Chapter 1. Drop Point Apocalyptica

Hayden         1889 After Expansion Generation (A.E.G.)

	Hayden’s amulet jingled on his neck, a family heirloom, overlapping bands of ebony metal enveloped a ruby in the shape of an eye. The middle of the eye held a black slit for a pupil, like that of a reptile. He gripped it tight, offering a quick prayer to Andras before stuffing it into his shirt. He burst down the narrow corridors. Alarms blared throughout the Ashuan transport ship ASF Redemption. It and the rest of the Ashuan fleet tore through the defending forces over the Ostrus-controlled planet of Vaemia. The impact of a magnetically accelerated shell nearly threw Hayden and many other soldiers off their feet.
	
	Hayden stopped his sprint to help stabilize a comrade. He was off again. Like water, he weaved and slipped around the dozens of armed soldiers rushing to their launch hangars. Ashuan transport ships eliminated empty space as necessary for more storage. Planetary invasions required much meat to be thrown into the grinder. This wasn’t even a purpose-built military transport but a retrofitted civilian merchant vessel. Hayden had already acquired his gear, mundane and sorcerous.
	
	Metal xanthium protected his vitals, while resilient fibers covered the rest. Slung across his back was a standard mag-rifle. Hayden held his helmet in his hand, an ugly but practical piece equipped with a face mask, full sensor, and communication suite. Hayden’s non-sorcerous gear was blocky and rugged, designed purely for the conduct of war.
	
	The same could not be said of his sword. Elegant and deadly, his single-edged weld blade hung from his hip. It was composed mainly from silver with gold dictums—the language of the gods—etched across its surface. A lyshan crystal fixed to the end of the handle acted as the power supply for the dictums. One could not face Inarus’s worshippers while displaying her silver metal, so he had painted it red and black—the colors of Andras.
	
	He did not pray for himself. Hayden and his squad would do as they always did. They would be attached to an army formation, and once formidable resistance was encountered, Hayden and his squad would flank and act as the anvil to the army’s hammer. Hayden hadn’t lost anyone on this multi-planetary campaign over many years. He would make sure it stayed that way.
	
	Some may call him defective, but while others here were about to puke, Hayden was merely waiting to get on the roller coaster. Hayden was a metaphysical, a rare breed of human who could wield the sorcerous power of craetus: imagination, knowledge, and will made manifest. A metaphysical could imagine a gun, and it would form in his hands. A gunsmith, with his far more intricate knowledge of the technology, would replicate it, costing less craetus. Craetus acted as an extension of the user’s will imposed on reality. The more harmonious a metaphysical was with reality, the less it fought back.
	
	They had done this a thousand times before. Hayden had that thought on repeat in his head. The rest of his friends were not metaphysicals. They were blanksouls—normals.
	
	Vaemia was one of the last steps to ending this war. High General Kephalos had led them to victory after victory. They were almost done. But as Hayden passed by a window, he saw the Inarus-worshipping Ostrus would not let them take this planet easily. Mammoths of metal engaged in a brutal brawl to the death. The Ostrus ships were angular, all right angles and points, while the Ashuan ships charged in, hammer-headed, meant for a full-frontal assault. Space choked with mag-shells and plasma bolts burning through meters of armor with each blast. Streaks of fire marked the hundreds of grav torpedoes shrieking toward their targets. Those who had adrenaline problems, like Hayden, piloted the strike craft that dodged and weaved through all this chaos. A titan among giants, the Ashuan flagship Wit’s End provided a screen for the transport vessels.
	
	Hayden got a small glimpse of himself in the glass as he passed by. His hair was unruly and brown, in stark contrast to his lidded blue eyes. A vertical scar crossed over the right edge of his lip. He could get it healed, but how could he get rid of such an excellent conversation starter? Hayden was by no means a bodybuilder, but fit to better deal with the strain of using sorcery.
	
	Hayden continued his sprint to the hangar.
	
	“ODV’s are away,” a male voice over the ship’s PA system called out to the sound of cheers around Hayden. The orbital drop vehicles would open a beachhead for the rest of the invasion force. The frigates—packed on the outside of the multi-kilometer-long transport ships like parasites—would launch next. The largest ships that could operate in atmosphere, they would dump the rest of the troops and vehicles, all while establishing air superiority. That was the plan, at least. Like dating a stripper, Hayden would wither and die before he could name all the ways it could go wrong. He and his squad were supposed to board one of those frigates.
	
	Hayden came to a widening in the hallway. This was the entrance to one of the hangars. Lines of soldiers, like rivers of meat, flooded into the boarding area. Hayden should see his squad soon.
	“Halt, Captain Grayson!” Hayden turned toward the imperious voice, stopping his momentum. He groaned internally as he confirmed it was indeed Major Orsik. Major Orsik’s uniform was well kept, the dull red fabric tight around the belly. Well kept, as he would not be down on the planet fighting today. Orsik might outrank Hayden, but he was not a metaphysical, lower on the social caste in every other circumstance. The Major took every chance he could to take advantage of this unique situation.
	“Sir,” Hayden responded in a dull, neutral tone.
	“You and your squad have been reassigned. You will be destroying a bunker complex to allow a breakthrough for our forces to take out a key airbase. Here are the mission details,” Orsik handed over a data pad. As politely as possible, Hayden snatched the equipment from him. He immediately grimaced as he scanned the information. Even from the orbital imaging, the complex looked like it could face off against a mechanized battalion and win. Did he read that there were an estimated four metaphysicals guarding the area?
	Once again, the theory was simple. Hayden and his squad would be dropped high above from a dropship. Hayden would slow their descent with craetus, kill everyone inside the complex, and return to drinks and enough medals to sag their clothes. Though, most likely, they would be earned posthumously.
	
	“This is a two-metaphysical job at least, sir,” Hayden kept his voice level. A favorable outcome from this mission meant only most of his friends dying. Though, he could not deny the quickness of his heart at the challenge.
	“Command recognizes the importance of this assignment, so they have given you a metaphysical under your command,” Major Orsik acted like the words were painful to get out. He turned behind him, “Here she is now.”
	
	Hayden’s eyes narrowed. Out from the river of infantry stumbled a woman who barely came above his shoulders. Her gear was similar to his, but she lacked a weld weapon. Hayden judged her craetus signature and deduced that her skill was moderate. She regained her balance and stepped next to Orsik, giving a smile that would have surely melted the hearts of all the boys in her hometown.
	She saluted Hayden, “Second Lieutenant Delani, reporting for duty.”
	
	While he did like her attitude, at this current moment, he would have much preferred scars and a frown as deep as a trench. Delani’s smile seemed to come from being well-adjusted and new, not because the high of combat was the only thing that got one going anymore. By the gods, looking at her made him feel old, and he was barely two years her senior.
	Hayden saluted back, “Captain Grayson.” He turned to Orsik, “Where is my squad, sir?”
	“Hangar four. They are waiting by the dropship that will take you down. You leave in ten minutes. Your country and god are counting on you,” Major Orsik huffed.
	Hayden’s amulet felt heavy. He gave a salute to the Major before turning around towards his destination. His long stride covered ground fast. Delani scurried to catch up to him.
	
	“Is this your first deployment?” Hayden asked. Even if she was new, a metaphysical was worth a dozen men at least.
	“Militarily, yes,” she said. Hayden groaned internally. “But I served in my planet’s police force before this. I am not a stranger to combat.”
	Something to work with, at least. Hayden nodded, “Similar story on my end. Was part of Terrestrial Security. Kicked the Carmine off my planet.”
	Delani’s eyes widened. She leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “The Carmine? Did you fight demons?”
	The Captain chuckled, “I’m standing here, so no, I did not fight any demons. Fighting the servants of the Chained Gods is better reserved for the Umbra and Templars.”
	Delani seemed a bit disappointed about the lack of any more interesting stories. “In any case, I have been waiting a while to repay those Monarchist bastards.”
	Hayden raised an eyebrow, “What happened?”
	“The Ostrus burned my city to the ground.”
	A small smile spread over the Captain’s face. Perhaps not so well-adjusted after all.
	
	
	                                                                                                            —
	
	
	
	Hayden and Delani briskly entered Hangar Four. The sheer space had a way of immediately making one feel like an insect. Docking clamps above held the smaller beetle-class dropships. Catwalks crisscrossed the upper areas. Glass-covered command stations hung above, directing everything. Tanks and other armored vehicles rolled across the ground to their transports. Groups of infantry moved in formation. A massive hulk-class bulk transport deafened the whole area as its eight wing-mounted engines propelled it out of the vacuum shield into the void of space. Three more waited in line to take off. Thousands of men and women ran about to fulfill their duties. It was controlled chaos at its finest. Delani took it all in, eyes wide, nearly tripping again as she tried to keep pace with Hayden, who only had eyes for the beetle transport on the ground. Six figures loitered around the open loading ramp of the dropship.
	
	Hayden slowed as he got close to the craft. His squad moved to greet the newcomers. Their combat suits were bulkier than Hayden and Delani’s. Metal armor covered a much greater portion of their bodies. They couldn’t dodge bullets like Hayden could, so they had to rely on more conventional means of protection.
	“Hayden!” Aradrew called out. He used to be almost unworkable, a draftee from a backwater planet. His facial hair was just narrowly below regulation. “What in Utopia is all this shit about reassignment?”
	“Nothing much more to say. It’s what it says on the box; our mission changed,” Hayden responded.
	“He’s asking because he can’t read,” Lika sauntered up behind Aradrew, putting a cybernetic arm on his shoulder, all smiles. Lika was a lanky guy, hair swept and oiled back. He had a disarming face that made you want to trust him. Several knives were plainly visible all around his person.
	“You’ll be reading your obituary if you don’t shut your whore mouth,” Aradrew fired back.
	“How am I supposed to read if I’m dead, dumbass?”
	
	Cutting through the commotion, Corbin took center stage up to Hayden. He was bald. He carried a xanthium harness on his back. Hydraulic supports connected from his arms to his back. Two metal legs carried his bulk.
	
	Corbin inclined his head at the new member, “Is this our new brighty?” He used the slang term for a metaphysical, playing off the technical term, “Brightsoul.” It was one of the kinder nicknames. Hayden nodded. Corbin turned, outstretching his large paw to her, “Corbin’s the name. You like killing Ostrurians?”
	Delani grasped his hand, hers being completely engulfed, “I want to be good at it.”
	Corbin gave a sage nod, “Good enough for me. Follow Hayden’s lead, and we will get through this just fine.”
	
	“All right, everyone,” Hayden cut in. “Listen up. This is Second Lieutenant Delani. She answers to me and will help us take out the bunker. Corbin already introduced himself; he is our heavy machine gunner. Aradrew is our scout. Lika, close quarters expert,” Hayden pointed to the back, “Gus is our long-range expert.” Gus nodded toward them. His eyes were small but piercing. Half of Gus’s face was mechanical, implanted with optical enhancements. He was on the shorter side, but very stocky. “Angelo, our technician,” Hayden continued. Angelo’s hair was just about as messy as Hayden’s. Angelo wore glasses, with his clothes and gear being immaculately kept at all times. “And last, but certainly least, Pollock, our demolition expert.” Pollock flipped him off.
	
	Pollock sported a handlebar mustache and always had a bit of belly fat that refused to go away, no matter how much cardio he did. Everywhere else was well-kept muscle.
	“Everyone acquainted now?” Hayden looked among everyone, “Good? Good. Now what are you all standing around for? Get on the damn dropship. Move! Move!”
	
	The dropship was one like many before it. It had a large middle section with two rotating engines on the left and right. The setup allowed for vertical take-off and landing. The boarding ramp attached to the back. Everyone grabbed their gear and weapons and rushed into the dropship. Ten seats lined each side with space in the middle for more people to stand. Four sat on each side. Delani sat to Hayden’s left with Angelo to his right. They all slid on their helmets. Hayden’s vision darkened. His full field of view came to life with the cameras outside the helmet feeding him information. Within moments, everyone was strapped in.
	
	The boarding ramp closed with a hiss. Darkness submerged them before the internal lights blinked on. The dropship’s engines came to life. Hayden felt the inertia change as they took off. They were hovering now.
	“Time to launch, twenty seconds,” the pilot communicated over the intercom. “Eighteen . . . Seventeen . . . Sixteen . . .”
	“Have you ever been in an orbital dive?” Hayden asked Delani. She quickly shook her head.
	“Ten . . . Nine . . . Eight . . .”
	“Here we go, here we go, here we go!” Aradrew yelled out, bucking against his harness.
	Hayden grinned, “Well, if you’ve ever been on a roller coaster, it’s like being on the worst part the entire time.” Delani swallowed.
	“Six . . . Five . . . Four . . .” Corbin and Pollock stomped with the countdown.
	“Hope you didn’t eat anything before this, miss!” Lika yelled.
	“Two . . . One . . . Launch.” Everyone was thrown against their seats as the dropship accelerated out of the hangar. Weightlessness took over, but no one could tell. The cacophony of the ship was replaced by the quiet noise of the ship rattling. This was always the worst part. Trapped in a small metal box, death could be approaching, and you would never know. Hayden could see it in his friends’ demeanors. They gripped the straps for dear life. Legs were tensed tight against the floor. Prayers were muttered. They had done this hundreds of times before. But nobody gets completely used to staring death in the face and hoping it blinks first.
	
	The craft violently jolted. “Atmosphere breached. Time to drop: three minutes,” the pilot relayed.
	
	Noise returned. The pops of distant explosions could be heard. Hayden’s stomach went to his feet as the dropship made a hard bank to the right. Something screamed right above them. Even as a slower dropship, they were defenseless. Their protective shielding would have burned away during entry. Hayden took a calming breath. He activated his spiderweb. It was one of the first things a metaphysical trained for combat learned. A metaphysical would send out hundreds of invisible craetus lines in all directions. It was a simple “If, then” statement. If something touched one of the lines at sufficient speed, then craetus went to the user’s brain. Craetus to the brain sped up perception by several factors. Too much, and you fried the gray matter. Delani had activated hers before they even breached the atmosphere. Hayden remembered when he used to do that.
	
	“We’ve done this over a dozen times before; just follow our lead,” Hayden tried to comfort her.
	“This isn’t even the worst one,” Gus added. “One time, we had to drop on a planet at night with horrible dust storms. Lika landed in a pit of blood-thirsty lizard things.”
	Lika shuddered, “Nearly feminized me, they did.”
	“Better than a pit of Ostrus, right?” Delani said weakly.
	Corbin nodded, “Precisely.”
	
	The dropship shuddered as explosions all around them buffeted the craft. The Ostrus seemed to have taken offense to their presence. Delani kicked at the floor to stabilize herself as they went vertical from the pilot taking a roll to the right.
	“Drop point approaching. It’s going to be tight, though!” the pilot exclaimed. Hayden looked ahead. Combat would begin soon. No matter how dangerous the situation, he would then be in control.
	
	In three measly milliseconds, everything changed.
	
	First millisecond: Hayden’s perception of time slowed to a crawl. His spiderweb had been tripped. Horror overtook the Captain’s thoughts. Emerging from the chest of Gus came the wicked point of an anti-aircraft mag-shell. Blood, viscera, and bone exploded in all directions. He didn’t even register that he was dead.
	
	Second millisecond: Hayden watched in silent terror. The shell continued its journey, right for Angelo’s head. Even in slowed time, the projectile flew at considerable speed.
	
	Third millisecond: Angelo’s helmet and head caved in. Brain and cranium spattered Corbin and Pollock next to him. A brutal fountain of gore. The shell pene trated the wall behind Angelo. The cabin depressurized. Hayden cut the spiderweb. Real time slapped back into focus.
	“Andras, damn it!” Hayden yelled as the dropship took a sharp dive downward. The air flooding into the two new holes overtook all noise. He saw his living friends flail against their seats, trying to adjust to the new situation. Curses and random shouts added to the chaos. They were lucky that the shell’s explosive did not detonate inside the cabin. Hayden wasn’t sure even he would survive that. Not even a metaphysical could do much unprepared.
	
	The gods then took a steaming dump on his luck. The dropship started to spin. Hayden gritted his teeth. The change in inertia threw them each into their seats. Even if they jumped out now, his squad would be flung in separate directions. He wouldn’t be able to slow them all down. Unacceptable. He wouldn’t fail any more of them. A plan formed in his head. He flooded craetus into his body. Hayden felt like he could lift a car—and he could. Hayden undid his straps. He turned to Delani.
	
	“Be ready for my instructions,” he commanded. She nodded, shakily. Praise be to Andras she wasn’t panicking.
	
	In one swift motion, Hayden leapt to the center of the dropship. Craetus empowering his legs, he stomped down into the hull, his boots crunching into the xanthium for stability. Hayden extended his arms to either side. From them, he shot out two tendrils of craetus, translucent steamers of purple energy. Hayden sent the streams out through the holes created by the mag-shell. Craetus spread over the outer surface of the dropship. Soon, he had a workable outline of the craft. He imagined a barrier of diamond surrounding them. Following his will, the craetus fortified. Hayden was subpar at barriers, but fate had forced his hand. The inefficient use of power would make any proficient user weep. On the bright side, his power plugged the holes, eliminating the screaming of air. Now for the second part of the plan.
	“Everyone!” Hayden yelled, “Hold your breath; we are going to get down safely.” He didn’t know the truth of his claims. But his friends took it in stride, quieting down. He loved that about them—the trust. Even now they trusted him. Sweat formed on Hayden’s forehead. “Delani, I need you to fill the cabin with a shock-absorbing jelly. Now!” Hayden took a deep breath.
	
	From her hands came two torrents of purple energy. Like a bucket filled by a hose, the cabin filled with craetus. The energy became a thick sludge. Hayden could barely move his arms, even if he wanted to. He couldn’t breathe.
	
	The anticipation hit him over the head like a sledgehammer. Any second, they would hit the ground. All of his preparations would be tested. Worst of all, the ground was an extremely harsh grader. Any second, they could hit the planet. Any second, his friends could di—
	
	They hit the surface of Vaemia.
	
	The impact threw all of Hayden’s thoughts out the window. The sheer kinetic energy of the collision assaulted his mind. Hayden’s craetus cracked. By proxy, it felt like several stone walls tried to crush him from all sides. A muffled screech of metal against stone and dirt reverberated through the cabin.
	
	The ship skipped across the ground like a rock across a pond. When points started to break, Hayden sent more of his power to reinforce it. It felt like trying to cook, juggle, and hop on one foot at the same time. His work was inefficient, but it held. Speed bled off with each skip. Finally, the dropship dug into the dirt, careening to a halt. Hayden dismissed his craetus. He shook Delani. After the third shake, she finally did the same. Her craetus dissolved into motes of purple light as physical reality asserted itself. Hayden took a long-awaited breath, along with everyone else. They all took off their helmets to gather themselves.
	“Sound off, everyone else okay?” Hayden called out.
	“I’m okay,” Lika said.
	“Nothing broken, I think,” Pollock responded.
	“In top shape,” Corbin said.
	“Feels like I rode through fucking Utopia,” Aradrew rubbed his head.
	“All here,” Delani coughed. Hayden nodded. He needed to get a handle on the situation. The sounds of magnetic weapons firing, from the high bursts of machine guns to the cracks of thunder from cannons told Hayden they did not land far from combat. Hayden took in the sorry state of his remaining squad. He could barely look at the corpses of his friends. Red-hot anger flooded his system. He would repay the Ostrus for this injustice.
	“Corbin, see if the pilot is alive. Lika, comm command and tell them our situation. Aradrew, assess what gear of ours survived. The rest, help lay Gus and Angelo to rest,” Hayden said. He moved to help Pollock gently lay Angelo onto the ground. He peeped out of the hole caused by the shell. What he saw gripped his heart with ice. They had landed not three hundred feet in front of the bunker complex.