XaiJu
Fabled Webs
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LT: 10.2 Inspiration

Inspiration 10.2

2005, November 14: Auckland, New Zealand

The day of truth had arrived. The rest of the world breathed a collective sigh of relief as Oceania threw up its hands in outrage. Twice in a row wasn’t the record for the most consecutive endbringer attacks in a region, but it wasn’t exactly the kind of record anyone wanted, either. Behemoth surfaced, three months since Leviathan’s demise, in the middle of Auckland.

As for us, we in Cauldron who knew what had been at stake felt a weight lift from our shoulders. Behemoth’s presence was, despite all the chaos and death, a welcome one. It was the first time anyone had celebrated an endbringer, because said endbringer wasn’t the worst case scenario.

Behemoth’s presence strongly suggested that David’s therapy sessions had proven effective. There was no fourth endbringer. No Khonsu, Tohu, Bohu, or some hitherto unknown construct designed specifically to counter Anivia’s Grace. David’s mentality had shifted, and the High Priest had not activated a fourth conflict engine in response.

I settled into the cockpit of Hextech: Gamera. I could have Doored there straight away, but there was no point. Seismic activity suggested Behemoth would arrive soon, and that gave us a bit of time to prepare. Evacuation efforts were already underway, made slightly easier by the fact that many humanitarian aid organizations had arrived in August and simply remained in the area.

I gave Gamera a quick look-see to make sure everything had been loaded. The interior of the shell had been lined on all sides with hammerspace storage containers. Those containers were filled to the brim with Nightingale’s idiot-proof syringes, each with precise dosages of either my restorative potions or an altered recipe designed to repair damaged intracellular components, which were the primary symptoms of radiation poisoning.

Unfortunately, there was no potion that could make someone immune to radiation poisoning in my current repertoire. I could make a person as durable as steel, but ionizing particles like gamma or neutron rays penetrated things like that anyway. There had been a tinker who’d been tapped to create radiation pills like in canon, but he’d been unable to follow through in time.

My own focus had been on stockpiling reserves of celestial god-metal, something I regretted a little now. I did have a dozen spare rings engraved with barrier spells, so they’d have to be handed out to the most useful of capes.

My mecha lifted into the air. A Door shimmered open, large enough to allow Gamera to squeeze through. It paddled the air on anti-grav thrusters, looking like a building-sized sea turtle.

Eidolon, Legend, and Alexandria had gone ahead to Auckland to coordinate with the locals, but we first had work to do in Toronto. That was the headquarters of the Guild, and the major gathering point for logistical support personnel in the western hemisphere.

Reactions to our arrival were… predictable. There was a lot of screaming. Some shot at the mecha. Others tried to run. Things only calmed down when Narwhal barked at them in her best drill sergeant voice. She really was the hardass Hero needed to balance his nice guy leadership.

“Please do not be alarmed,” Dragon said through Gamera’s loudspeakers, a bit belatedly in my opinion. No one ever said she didn’t have a sense of humor. “Gamera is here to act as the mobile operations headquarters and primary transport vessel for this endbringer battle. Please board the loading bay in an orderly fashion.”

“That’s right. Humans are friends, not food,” I muttered dryly.

“Hyunmu, your mic is on.”

“Oh, well, fuck. Whatever. Come crawl inside the turtle’s ass and listen to Narwhal and Hero; they’ll brief you lot while we make the jump.”

I could feel their looks of disapproval, but I was determined to remain my glib self for as long as I could. Death god-Andy could wait a little longer.

Hero and Narwhal snapped into action. They separated the volunteers based on what they expected to do. Those with significant mover abilities were given stocks of my potions and rings.

Those who could be trusted with operational command were led to the observation deck so they could gather intel in real-time. To avoid having too many cooks spoiling the pot, we made sure only four thinkers were involved, and strictly in an advisory capacity. There weren’t many thinkers whose powers worked on an endbringer, anyway.

Overall command of all units fell to Hero, what with his end-slaying cred. He then promptly insisted that he’d be directing and maintaining Gamera’s shoulder-mounted cannons. Tinkertech was unfortunately finicky like that, especially since the outpouring of mana provided by Gamera’s in-unit Nexus would need to be converted into an energy source Hero’s Shard knew how to use. That’d take time and oversight, so Narwhal was tapped to stay with the command center to help coordinate.

Still others were given the rest of the potions and told to be ready for dropoff. These guys would establish a series of medic stations far from Behemoth’s line of attack. Hopefully, with a full complement of Gamera’s drones in play, they’d have a slow day today, but I doubted it. I heard that the sheer panic caused by Behemoth’s impending arrival was already causing problems.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” Narwhal said as she approached the bridge. She was followed by two of the thinkers assigned to operations command, who gawked like children at a museum.

“I have, but Gamera isn’t my work alone. Hero and Dragon were also involved,” I replied. We’d met before, but we hadn’t interacted much.

“So I heard. I’m sure it’ll perform then.”

“We’re ready to go, Hyunmu,” Dragon’s voice called through the intercom. “Open the Door. I’ll follow along with my own dragonflight.”

“Understood, Dragon. Door opening. Let’s go save the Shire.”

That was another reason for Gamera’s stop in Toronto. This way, we could easily disguise Doormaker’s power as a macro-scale portal generator installed onto Gamera, especially since I’d already demonstrated an ability to make portal tech with the Worldstone Network and drones. When Cauldron members began using Doormaker in public in the future, people would shrug and say, “magic turtle.”

X

Auckland was perhaps the most photogenic city I’d ever been to. The sea stretched out ahead like a field of glistening gems. The metropolitan sprawl was at once modern and boasted enough urban greenery to make it seem as though the city had struck a harmonic accord with nature.

Or maybe that was the Tolkien fan in me. Whatever it was, I couldn’t deny that there was something infinitely more attractive about New Zealand than Australia. It was probably the lack of political kissasses.

As it was, we weren’t going to Mordor. Mordor was coming to us, single, glowing eye and all. Truly, Earth-Bet was the worst timeline.

“New Zealand acquires the vast majority of its energy from renewable sources,” Hero briefed our passengers. A hologram lit up in front of him, showing a map of the Auckland area. “Given the city's reliance on hydroelectric power, we believe that Behemoth is likely to target the dams. Hydroelectric power generation is concentrated in two mountain ranges: the Hūnua and the Waitākere, here, and here. Behemoth is likely to emerge in the center of the city before traversing towards one or the other.”

The problem was that the Hūnua and Waitākere Ranges were in opposite directions, with Auckland smack dab in the middle. One of the thinkers groaned in despair. “So we’re playing a guessing game. My power’s for managing small squads. It’s not good for this kind of thing.”

“We’re not without information,” Dragon chimed in. “The dams are Behemoth’s most immediate targets, but there are other possibilities.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes. See here,” a point on the map, a little more than halfway towards the southern tip. “That is the Kapuni gas field. Though it is unlikely for Behemoth to head down that far, he does not need to.”

“There are only so many ways to pipe natural gas to a major city,” the second thinker finished for her. “You think Behemoth is likely to head south because he can destroy two resources with one trip.”

“That is the working hypothesis, yes. There is also the worst case possibility that he will head further south for Rotorua, a caldera that formed two hundred forty thousand years ago. Though it is not considered active, it is the nearest of several large volcanoes in the region, the main one of which is considered a supervolcano.”

That got a quiet gulp of dread. It didn’t happen all the time, but Behemoth wasn’t as stupid or lumbering as people assumed at first glance. Traversing the distance from Auckland to Lake Rotorua, less than a hundred fifty miles, was well within his abilities. He could, and sometimes did, reactivate old volcanoes. And if he managed that, it could lead to a series of chain reactions that resulted in full environmental collapse.

No one needed to be told that this was our ultimate lose-condition. If Behemoth entered the mountain, or burrowed inside, we’d be forced to begin evacuation procedures for everyone on North Island, never mind Auckland. It was a sobering reminder that Leviathan wasn’t the only one who could redraw maps.

Narwhal, who’d remained stoically silent thus far, spoke up. “Then we will land outside Auckland Airport and use its airfields as our primary staging area. Medic stations should set up there, while fanning out to cover more sectors of the city. Two people with wayfinders will be positioned at each station as an additional layer of security should emergency evacuations be necessary.”

“Got it, boss,” I said, angling the turtle towards the airfields. “Taking us down now.”

Setup happened quickly and efficiently. Narwhal barked orders as though she’d lived in Auckland all her life. The staff I’d transported were mostly from the Guild and knew what to expect. Any tagalongs were simply swept up in the momentum. The military veteran-turned heroine was a relatively new face on the international scene, but had quickly made a name for herself as Hero’s second-in-command within the Guild. 

While we did that, Dragon’s robots, bus-sized constructs spread out to cover different areas of the city. They were four-legged and spider-like, with serpentine heads that split open to reveal highly sophisticated sensor suites. Their purpose was to set up more precise seismic monitoring hardware. If we could pinpoint Behemoth’s emergence point, we could better prioritize evacuation targets and establish safe routes. 

They’d be useful even when the battle began. Behemoth was known to pretend to retreat by burrowing underground, only to ambush the defenders. Dragon’s robots would not only prevent that from happening, they would warn participating capes of their proximity to Behemoth: One hundred feet was the recommended distance, with thirty-two feet being the threshold for his kill aura.

“Connection to the Protectorate contingent established. Local heroes patched in. Support staff, please begin distributing locator bracelets,” Dragon said.

The bracelets were a little bulkier than usual. This model had to be hardened extensively, not just against EMPs, but also against ambient radiation. The build wasn’t perfect, but given it was mass-produced, good enough would have to be good enough.

It felt a little awkward, sitting here in the cockpit. It wasn’t as if I’d be the one driving. There really wasn’t much to do until Behemoth surfaced. 

“Dragon, ETA on Behemoth?” I asked softly.

“Two minutes. It won’t be long, Hyunmu.”

“Thank you. I’ll get ready then.”

The brief continued apace. I zoned it out for the most part; I’d heard it all before. I instead looked inward and felt the Kindred stir.

Death was near. The hunt would begin soon.

X

Behemoth’s arrival was heralded by an almost persistent set of tremors that culminated in a massive earthquake that shook the entire island. He emerged in no location of particular significance. It was a residential neighborhood. The only thing noteworthy about it was that there was a Sikh temple a few blocks to the south.

The endbringer was an admittedly impressive sight. He stood forty-five feet tall and looked like a top-heavy cross between a bear and a bodybuilder. There were jagged growths along his body, almost as if he was wearing one of those spiked jackets worn by edgelord heavy metal singers. Made of hardened igneous rock or shaped obsidian, they were each sharpened to a razor’s edge. Some were as long as grown men and I could see rivulets of lava running down the valleys formed by the spikes.

Behemoth did not have hands. Or claws, for that matter. He had giant, irregular, truck-length spikes growing from maul-like knobs where his hands should be. They were reminiscent of medieval flanges or maces, with cores of orange heat that made the very air shimmer around them. They drove themselves into the asphalt, dragging the lumbering titan up in a shower of debris and melted street.

His most noticeable features were his molten-orange eye and jagged maw. The mouth reminded me of a geode, if geodes could articulate and were filled with sharklike, obsidian teeth rather than crystals of quartz. The eye, completely redundant, nevertheless cast an intimidating glow over the neighborhood.

Ranged artillery began to bombard him as his head emerged. Gamera’s own draconic head, floating more than seventy feet above, opened its maw. An overcharged Smite rang out. The beam was big enough to encompass Behemoth’s entire torso.

A deafening crash filled the air like a dozen thunderstrikes as the beam of pure mana suckerpunched the endbringer. The cloud of debris covered everyone’s sight but mine. The shockwave launched the less grounded heroes away. Some flyers were thrown clear several blocks and I saw a handful decide that they really weren’t durable enough to be here, after all.

But Behemoth was fine. Some of his stone spikes chipped. Broken shards of volcanic glass flew like shrapnel. And yet, that famous endbringer durability reared its head.

Even before the smoke cleared, he reared his head towards the sky and let out a deafening roar. It was less a sound to be heard than a force to be felt. Bones rattled. Glass shattered across all of Auckland. Eardrums ruptured the nearest brute had his eyeballs pop in a gruesome shower from the force. Dynakinetic meant all energy, sound included.

Legend blinked forward to get the brute out of the way, but I could see that it was too late. He’d been too close and the brain wasn’t meant to rattle like that in its juicebox. Alexandria warned me about this, there could be a small phonebook made up of people who overestimated themselves against the “slowest and dumbest” endbringer.

Behemoth was already starting to move. As Dragon predicted, he immediately turned southward. He’d never been known to sprint, but he was deceptively fast. The “lumbering” gait was more like a powerwalk, and one with such a long stride that he could cover several hundred feet in seconds.

That was my cue. I stood from the pilot’s chair and locked the controls behind me. Dragon would pilot it under Hero’s directions.

I held my hand out as mana roiled through my body like a storm. The Mask formed in my hand, a porcelain-white to the gnarled wood that it’d been before. Life and Death as one. Two paths, side by side. That was the Spirit Blossom.

As the Mask settled over my face, my eternal companions materialized beside me. Farya, with her bow in hand and messy, blue locks flowing in a nonexistent breeze. Wolyo, fangs bared and painted, white fur glistening like bleached bone. They looked so much more corporeal now, a result of an anchor who had fully embraced Death.

The air became still with a metaphysical weight. The mere presence of the Kindred was disquieting for mortals. Even without the ability to sense mana, people could sense that there was something abnormal about us.

“Guess your upgrade included a makeover, huh?” Narwhal said dryly, never one to be easily intimidated.

“At this point, is he even a tinker anymore?” one of her thinker aides asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What even are they?”

Hero chuckled nervously. The man had access to both my pipeline and chat logs. He was one of the few, even in Cauldron, who fully knew the truth. “It’s a bit more than a makeover, I’d say. You’ve got free rein, Hyunmu. Give him hell.”

It was only later that I’d realize I’d not spoken English, but Ochnun. My voice echoed, not through the air, but through every soul with an understanding that was born of existential truth. “Let the Lamb grant rest. Let the Wolf give chase. This Turtle is here to bear witness.”

Author’s Note

Short chapter, but very important kickoff to the Behemoth fight.

Simurgh in arc 6. Leviathan in arc 9. Now, Behemoth in arc 10. I’ve done it. I’ve officially tapped all three endbringers. I don’t know what I’ve won, but I feel like I deserve a prize.

Shut up, the other three don’t exist.

Anyway, so begins the battle. I initially wanted this to be an absolute stomp for Andy, but I felt that was boring. An endbringer should feel like an endbringer, even for someone with “infinite mana.”

Animal (Food) Fact: Everything tastes like chicken. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. No matter what kind of exotic meat you’re talking about, someone will inevitably say, “It’s like chicken, but more ___.”

The reason we tend to compare every meat to chicken is because it is a meat almost everyone can recognize. However, there might also be a chemical reason for this saying.

First, it has a mild, neutral flavor. Most of the flavor in meat actually comes from fat, not muscle fibers. Fat is primarily the reason you notice the difference between regular and grass fed cuts of steak. Chicken breast, being almost entirely muscle, lacks the distinctive flavor you might find on a steak, or even a duck.

A second possibility is that chicken breast is relatively lacking in myoglobin. Myoglobin is a protein found in muscle fibers that stores and transports oxygen. Yes, it contains iron. Yes, it is what makes “red meat” red.

Since chicken breast doesn’t have as much of it, it has a much milder flavor than say, duck. Note that snakes and alligators, which are almost constantly compared to chicken, also have relatively low myoglobin levels.

Comments

I never did understand why so many people compare food to chicken. I guess it make sense in a way, but I've never had that issue. I've never had snake but I've had gator and it doesn't taste like chicken to me at all. Everyone is different though. That said, dove tastes like a cross between white meat chicken and dark meat turkey. Not the worst thing in the world, personally I like squirrel better than dove though. I do love duck though mmm mmm good.

X Blade

holy moly I could probably count on one hand the longfics i read that manage to reach Behemoth at all xD

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