Genesis - the Battle Within (Pillars of Creation Book 1) (13 page)

Osiris smiled as his eyes glistened with these factual points of his sermon.

“
Interesting
, I see written upon your young faces. So what does it mean?

“Well from this we take from our SINAI’s interpretation, that our Creators have left us a gap in fate. A blind spot – if you allow me the crude analogy – where we can rectify past mistakes and complete our ascension to their doors and come to where our brothers already abide.

“And indeed this is happening, our remnant society which has now been free to flourish unhindered over the past millennia, aloof from the evil that once plagued us, has formed a new society. And under the exact teachings that were originally fought and won to protect, we have evolved as our Creators knew we would when we learned the truth.

“Our Creators’ foresight knew our civilisation would at some point be fractured or at least tormented in this way, opening the way to the Hel’zarta invasion. Yet what our Temple explains is that we too can one day be taken into the Creators’ love and care. Our future, our path if we stay the course, will collide with the brothers and fathers we lost an eon ago. Oh what great things they will surely be able to show us. We now only reflect but a fraction of what once use to be, imagine the advancements, the way it should have been, imagine where they can help guide us …”

“But how to reach them? How was the SINAI actually constructed and worthy to lead us?

“As mentioned a new Order has been adopted by the majority of us, and in these factions of the Terithian sector, especially here on Earth where we uphold its teachings stringently, our faith is unchallenged. All nations – no matter how strong they are – need proper leadership; man has proven he rules himself to ruin, a lesson the Temple details warn of clearly.

“Thankfully though, the alien race of Tel’nagara – which as I told you furthered our technologies and species after the war – had remedy for us. With direction from the Temple, they devised a way to direct our step.

“Through applying the Temple’s prophetical teachings, the Tel’nagara helped us rebuild the original and true religion of our brethren, and the Way of the Sacred was formed. These carvings from the Temple along with the Sacred Texts told us much about how to harness the power of the Sacred and how to develop our own technologies in harmony with them and our fleshly bodies. We even learned how to berth our early attempts of Immortals, shaping them into the advanced beings they are today.

“But most importantly, they showed us how we were to construct our appointed deity, the SINAI, into its grafted and omnipotent life-force. Because of this guidance, and
only
because of it, humanity now truly has a leader that cultivates us and allows us to flourish. As I said some think it as a channel to the Creators, others think it a deity in its own right, but regardless of which, it is intended to lead us, its people, to our High Creator’s salvation, its power promises this, and is discernible through its actions.

“This was not the only gift from the Tel’nagara. They also gave us the warnings left in the Temple that cautioned on the danger of powers to come. It spoke of the quest we would face once our leader, the SINAI, was in place, when we would be strong enough to follow it, and what would come thereafter to threaten us.

“Yes, my children, it explained that there may still be a taint at the place of Armageddon, which is why we fear our trials may be more than the Seekers of Truth. For the evil fought and defeated there had a lingering presence, which may never cease to be. Enough of a presence that it could attract those weak enough to succumb to its call,
and
which
, not surprisingly, eventually managed to re-emerge at one point in our own history; seen in the heretical path these powers extended, and successfully inserted, into our realm.

“These Stygian, or likely better known to you as The Way of the Dark Ones-

stemming from the residual taint of the Hel’zarta, we assume- were the twisted men who claimed many a misguided follower in humanity’s cloudier period and formed the very origins of the Seekers of Truth. These ones resulted in the necessity for complete eradication of their beliefs, in what you’d know of as the Crusade of Purification. From this purge, long ago, and upon heeding the Temple’s warnings well, our nations finally made it through and stood as one, crushing the Stygian. From this victory we were finally strong enough, with a united purpose and goal, to again look outwards, this earlier trial seeming to be just one of the tests we needed to overcome … unfortunately they left the scaffolding for the Skinks to rise, but they are nothing compared to what the Stygian once were.”

Osiris paused a moment, he had one portion left to deliver, but he still felt this was a good time for his students to stop and ponder the possibilities. Their future was something he’d been guardian over for many centuries now, and if they had to wait for this old Historian, well it was the least they could dignify him with. They never knew the sacrifices made in truth, nor should they ever know, it was his kind that wore the burden of such a trial, for the Fate of Fates was known to only them now, wasn’t it.

Before the six privates manning the bridge could even draw on the beast, they were lying in pools of their own blood, shot in the head,
as expected of an Immortal
, Salvador thought with cynicism. Without a word, or even a sound, the black form paced towards him.

Salvador watched mesmerised as one of their so-called
Sacred blades
seemed to materialise from hilt to tip within the monstrosity’s right hand and its pistols dissolved simultaneously into their holsters. The blade finished building upon itself; at its point it was a good three quarters of Salvador’s height. The red laser sealing flared over the exterior of the blade, closely followed by the Rieft powers of the demon, basking them in an eerie purple.

The general regretted that he’d sent all his security from the bridge to seal the door, but his fatal mistake, he knew, would be short lived. He’d studied these creatures before, when he was a cadet amongst the SED, many years ago. He had even spent days revering the way they were able to manipulate psychic energies to such an extent that it built and protected their weapons of choice, as it did now. But as a general of the Seekers of Truth, his newly adopted religion, his contempt for these tricky demons was bitter indeed.

Thousands of Seekers had fallen to their kind, many had been under his own command and now he’d come to loath and despise them with a pure hatred. He hated them with every fibre of his being. He knew his attempt would be futile, but regardless of why, the creature left him the dignity of being able to draw his own laser-sealed nano-sword. Salvador took up his preferred stance, steadying himself and finally flaring the weapon’s laser exterior to life—

The bridge became a warzone, flying debris and objects of various sizes exploded across its expanse. Salvador flew through the air, crashing painfully headfirst through several objects and finally into his own command chair with a thud. The first volley from the orbital disruptor must have hit somewhere near the bridge, Salvador realised, the impact feeling significant from his position.

Moments later, with adrenalin running and stars shooting through his eyes, Salvador looked across the chaos of the now utterly transformed and destroyed bridge. He searched the debris wildly. His head pounded, and it was hard for him to see, but eventually he found the Immortal’s crumpled form, lying face down amongst sheets of steel plating on the other side of the bridge. Many explosions from screens and electronic panelling made it hard for him to assess the Immortal’s condition; smoke belched from the many spot fires that were taking hold. Blood trickled down Salvador’s forehead and blinded his right eye. He tried to stand, but fell back. With painful realisation he looked down to see his own blade sticking through his thigh, his leg screaming with hot burning pain.

The blast had somehow forced his own sword completely through his leg, and he did everything in his power to will himself not to black out. Summoning all his courage, he pulled the sword out, screaming in agony and blacking out.

Seconds later, he came to and looked down at his throbbing leg … his head no longer concerned him – the pain from the sword’s damage overrode everything else. He saw little blood seeping from his wound, despite having torn through most of his major muscles and arteries; the laser sealing had cauterised it efficiently.

Fighting the blackness, he tried again to stand, using the navigation console for support. His right leg dragged behind him as he inched towards the dark form on the other side of the room. He wasn’t going to flee as his mind was telling him. Salvador had accepted his fate the minute he’d given the order to fire upon his own ship, but to actually take an Immortal down, with his own hands, would be an amazing way for him to go; his death would be honoured for generations.

Salvador wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by idly. He’d known the Immortal was in the room when he gave the order to fire; the Tel’nagara had felt his presence and warned him before disappearing with its uncanny rift transportation abilities. Salvador knew he had to remain behind and see this through; however, he knew too much to be captured, and the Tel’nagara was the only one able and quick enough to escape.

The determined general pulled himself above the black shape, the form even in its unconscious state looking deadly. He raised his sword with both arms, leaning on his one good leg, his blade poised for its downward moment of glory. He spoke harshly as his weapon quivered in front of him. “Back to hell you son-of-a—”

∞

Genesis awoke, the world catching up to him in an instant. The last thing he remembered was a large piece of plating hurtling off a wall and propelling him at breakneck speed into the opposite side of the bridge. He cursed; he knew if it’d been one of his brethren on this mission, they would have simply redirected the projectile with their Rieft power. But it wasn’t, it was him, so as a result he now was stunned and struggling to remain conscious, just like any other normal human being.

He realised he was lying face first in a pile of debris on the ship’s floor; he tried to blink the fuzziness from his head, but a voice fervently cut the air, forcing him to concentrate.

“Back to hell you son-of-a-bitch—”

Through the Rieft, Genesis only just saw the imminent danger in his mind before it was too late, all at once he knew he had to move with all his speed. Against his muscles’ protests, he spun swiftly onto his back, and with just enough time to deflect the general’s blade a fraction, preventing it from skewering his face.

Using his right, open hand, Genesis smacked the blade desperately down and away from his head.

The blade bit deeply through his right shoulder and into the steel deck beneath him.

Ignoring the pain and through sheer instinct, his foot sailed into Salvador’s chest. He hit him with enough force to send him reeling backwards, crashing over the consoles to the floor, visibly winded and shocked. Genesis had just bought himself more time and space.

Tearing the Skink infidel’s blade from his shoulder, Genesis regained his poise and flicked effortlessly back onto his feet. Me’lina filled his ears with the diagnostics of his wounds, and his suit’s status, and also reported that the next volley of fire would soon be causing havoc again – he had to move quickly.

As he leapt on top of the console, his blade rebuilt itself in mid-air before he’d even completed his jump. Genesis scanned the debris-strewn area and found the Skink propped up against the forward glass panelling on the bridge. He was framed in what looked to be a
portal,
monumentally positioned behind him, and which Genesis only just now noticed –
it’s certainly a day for firsts,
he thought with a shock.

Staring out at the view the Skink had likely instrumented, and surveying the decay of his once beloved ship, General Hroth Salvador, who Genesis knew from the SED’s top ten most wanted list, slowly turned towards him; a look of defiance and satisfaction playing across his blood-stained face, as he spoke quietly, “Here goes demon, let’s see if you’re as quick as they say.”

Genesis watched as if in slow motion, the Skink went for his pistol—

The spritely form of the Immortal closed the gap in an instant, spinning Katana as he met the general in a blurring leap. In her glorious beauty, Katana glinted with silver flashes as she always did when catching light on her near perfect and mirrored surfaces. In her final and flawlessly calculated upward spin, and as if dancing in her own macabre display, Katana hummed quietly to herself as Genesis darted forward with her. She changed out of her silver gown, flaring bright red in her final manoeuvre – striking against another object.

The nano-sharpened edge continued through the Skink’s pistol and flesh like they were made from water. The pistol hissed and popped as it vented in small explosions, a dying complaint at meeting Katana.

With a scream of realisation, Salvador looked down as he saw his forearm fall. With a determined resolve, he somehow caught his footing, just stopping short of collapsing as he almost buckled before Genesis. He looked up into the Immortal’s eyes, his severed arm completing its descent to the ground, its hand still clutching the dilapidated pistol. Genesis also came to a stop, centimetres from the general’s cold stare.