tanadin: The silhouette of a dragon clinging to the silhouette of a tower against a night sky. The windows of the tower and the eyes of the dragon are lit up. (Default)
[personal profile] tanadin posting in [community profile] saladlove
 In which Cataclysm tells a story and there's some radio chatter. I have the next two chapters prewritten so expect a Sunday chapter. ^^

Chapter list: 
https://tanadin.dreamwidth.org/650.html
World map: http://tanadin.deviantart.com/art/Kaldriel-RiR-map-594639189

Chapter Fifty-Five

Floodgate

Kyir’s temporary workshop, Sector TZI. April 11, 2272. Time instance 842N.

Emma rubbed her eyes tiredly as she approached Kyir’s current workshop. She didn’t have any plans for the day, as her friends were mostly busy, so she found herself drawn to Cataclysm. Their previous encounter had sent her heartrate through the roof but it had turned out okay, except for her pretty much being a creepy stalker. Cataclysm said it wasn’t awkward, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she believed him.

She passed a window on her way to the door and raised her hand to knock but paused at the sound of voices. It was early in the morning, and a quick peek through the window told her that it was only Cataclysm and Kyir inside before she ducked down to avoid being seen.

Eavesdropping wasn’t really her things.

Except when what she was hearing involved her. Then it totally was.

“You mean you haven’t told her?”

“Emma has enough on her plate, okay? I didn’t want to add more.” Despite the fact that Emma couldn’t see, she figured that Cataclysm had probably crossed his arms. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

“Dude, we’ve all got shit on our plate, but she can handle it. It’s not like hearing about you will have some horrible catastrophic effect on her mental health.”

“But what if it does?”

“How is she supposed to help you out with your destiny or whatever if she doesn’t even know what you’ve been through? It’s a painful subject, Cata. I know. I was there for part of it, remember? A good half. The past bites but she deserves to know if she’s getting dragged into this.” Kyir’s voice bit at every syllable, snapping to get his point across.

Cataclysm’s voice was quieter. “I don’t want to cause a problem.”

“You want a problem? I’ll punch your face in.” Kyir might have been joking.

Cataclysm sounded amused. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Why?”

Emma could practically hear the smirk on his face. “Because you need a less attractive friend to follow you around and make you look better. Trust me, bud, you need it.”

“If I punch you, you’ll be even uglier!”

“Oh yeah? Not if I die first, asshole!”

“Bring it!”

Cataclysm laughed, a surprisingly clear sound despite his rough voice, and Kyir joined in, two bells in the early morning silence.

Emma shivered. I shouldn’t be listening to them. I shouldn’t be here.

But what happened to Cataclysm?

She turned to leave and almost screamed as she found herself face-to-face with Dare. Her heart pounded as her muscles locked. I’m dead. I’m so dead. I’ve been caught I’ve been caught she’s going to-

Dare raised a finger to her lips in a ‘quiet’ gesture, winked behind her visor, stood up, and went into the workshop. Emma remained crouched there for what felt like an eternity, listening and waiting for one of the others to come racing out to confront her, but no confrontation came. She released a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding before straightening up and starting to leave.

Halfway down the street, she heard a door open and Cataclysm’s voice.

“Emma! Hey, wait up!”

Shit.

She slowly turned to face Cataclysm, sure that death was near, but relaxed when he saw that he didn’t look angry or upset. He almost seemed to be trying to hide a smile as he skidded to a stop beside her. “Hey, um. Hi.”

“Hi.” This is awkward.

“I just…” Cataclysm shuffled his wings, the bandages rustling along with his feathers. “I, um.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. What did Dare tell him in there?

“I was wondering if you wanted to do something,” he blurted. “Um. Just. Something.”

“Something,” Emma repeated. “Like what?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know how to socialize!”

“Who forced you into this?”

“No one! Well, Kyir, kind of, but I also happen to like spending time with you so it’s not like some horrible dreaded thing that I’m trying to avoid doing.”

“Why?”

“Because Kyir’s an asshole and also right, that’s why!”

“Not Kyir. Me. Why do you like spending time with me?”

“Oh. You’re interesting and I saw you in the Mirror and you probably should know everything else and man I can’t shut my mouth this morning, can I?” He shuffled his wings. “I don’t usually get nervous but thinking about telling you shit makes me nervous but Kyir insists its necessary and Dare agrees and Dare’s usually right about these things but I am not ready-”

“Hey. Breathe. It’s okay.”

Cataclysm took a few deep breaths before speaking. “Kyir suggested telling you a bit about what I’ve been through because it might help us figure out why I saw you in the Mirror.”

I know. “Oh. Well, it’s up to you if you want to or not. I don’t want to force you into it.”

Cataclysm nodded. “I...appreciate that.” He shuffled his wings again.

“You seem...really nervous. Are you okay?”

“No,” Cataclysm said cheerfully. “This is going to suck. Should we find someone to sit down?”

Emma blinked a few times before nodding and leading the way back to the building they had last spoken in. This is not the weirdest thing to happen since I was transferred to IAL, but it’s sure up there. She tried to figure out what the weirdest thing had been and decided that it was definitely the Valentine’s Day party. That had been a mistake.

She was pretty glad that Cataclysm hadn’t been there for that.

She noticed that he seemed relieved to get indoors and out of the sun, almost forgetting to shut the door as she watched him. He raised an eyebrow and sat down on the couch, next to the remains of her blanket fort. Emma sat on the blankets next to him, wondering if they were sitting too close but being distracted by him speaking.

“You know already that I was an angel.”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t anything special. Just a rank two avenging angel with a twin guardian in position to ascend to Archangel in the place of the late Myka and a younger brother, a watcher, who was regarded as some kind of sign by our parents. I was the unwanted one of the three, really- I wasn’t anything special. I wasn’t a go-getter, a determined, unstoppable force like Zi, and I wasn't immediately lovable and helpful like Srvliux. I wasn’t anything special to look at, really, unlike my brothers with their golden eyes and white hair or golden wings.” A symbol flashed briefly on his forehead, a bright white light, before he extended his hand outward and an image appeared in the air.

A small figure formed before them, an image of a short angel with bright white wings, dark hair, and pale green eyes. He seemed unremarkable but he carried himself with a familiar power and the sword at his hip indicated that he was a warrior. He spread his wings and took off, vanishing as he did so.

“Zyvren Calyon.” The name seemed to tumble out of Cataclysm’s mouth, a jumble of rocks that had been long-forgotten at the top of a hill. “That is who I was. Zyvren Calyon.

“It was Zyvren Calyon that Srvliux called to help him, and so it was Zyvren Calyon who met Kyir Lu’ann and learned of his brother’s early severance, of the child he would have with a human.”

Emma’s eyes widened. Kyir? A parent? The thought was both amusing and horrifying.

“Angel law dictates that all nephilim children must be left to die. They are a monstrosity. Srvliux explained this and Kyir immediately broke contact with him. He wouldn’t allow it to happen but, since he couldn’t stop it, the best thing he could do was break out of the whole situation.

“Srvliux told me later that he had seen Kyir in the Mirror of Ripples, and that was when I knew I couldn’t let the nephilim die. When she was born, I followed Srvliux to where he left her and picked her up, taking her to Kyir and his brother Corvus. I left her in their care, stopping by occasionally to check on her progress but mostly pushing the matter form my mind. It was over; my brother, one of the Watchers, got himself reassigned to somewhere else, anywhere else.

“A year passed. My paranoia about the entire situation grew; if any of the other angels found out about what I’d done, I’d be stripped of my angelic power faster than you can sneeze. My brother Zi, set up to become Archangel in just a few months, called Srvliux and I to meet him near the entrance of the Pit. He wanted to see Srvliux before me, but I didn’t trust him. I showed up early.”

Cataclysm wouldn’t meet Emma’s gaze as his voice lowered. “I don’t know whether or not I regret that. I… I showed up in time to see Zi kill him. To see my younger brother murdered.” His wings shook. “What could I do? I charged him, screaming in rage, but he had always been stronger than me. I lost. He broke my wings, drove a sword through my chest, and pushed me directly into Hell.”

Emma felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, at the broken look in his eye. What did he do to deserve this? Save an innocent life?

“That’s where Edme found me.” His lips rose in a snarl at her name, voice dripping with hatred and pain and fury, an image appearing of a demon, white as bone, before it vanished without a trace. “She turned me into what I am now. She took my eye, my name, my identity.” He fixed his claws and reached up to tug at the links of chain around his neck. “She took my choices. She took my humanity. It took Corvus sending Edme’s cousin in to rescue me to get out of there. I fled to the Lu’ann household and stayed with them after that.”

Cataclysm shook, trying to take a deep breath but failing. Pain echoed in his eye and Emma found herself leaning over to hug him, being mindful of his wings. He leaned slightly against her, shutting his eye and trying to block out what he had spoken of.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you with your destiny,” Emma said slowly, “but I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

Cataclysm sighed, a more relieved sound than before. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They remained that way for several minutes until Cataclysm finally pulled away, getting to his feet. “I need to walk. Move around. I can't sit still.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Please.”

Emma got to her feet and followed him outside, resisting the urge to take his hand reassuringly. They walked, together, down the streets and between the buildings. Emma waved to Clash as they passed him and Cataclysm ignored a group of mages that gave him a wide berth.

Is this what normality is? Is this how life is when you don’t have the Mainframe to fight against? Emma watched the passerby curiously, noting how many cyborgs they passed. Maybe not. There weren’t any cyborgs before the Mainframe, were there?

But, as she watched, the cyborgs froze, tilting their heads as if listening, and then exchanged glances.

Emma felt her stomach drop. She didn’t know what was happening, but she knew it was bad.

~~~

Nine was talking with Seven when the warning came.

They were discussing a possible project that Seven had been considering when their radios crackled to life. All they could hear was a short scream and what sounded like the beginning of the word ‘help’ before the radio cut out.

Seven and Nine exchanged glances while Nine flicked his radio on. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“Don’t know, sir! That was 7562-β, stationed at Cannon Three. I’m on my way to investigate.” Nine barely recognized the voice of the responding cyborg, placing him as a seven thousand unit but beyond that he had no idea.

“Take someone with you. I don’t like this.”

“Sir! This is 2249-β, Cannon One under attack, I repeat, canno-”

“2249?” No response. “2249! Do you copy?”

“I think she’s dead, sir,” the seven thousand unit said hesitantly.

“Someone investigate that!” Seven barked. “Something’s happening!”

“On my way,” rumbled another cyborg. “Javen, come with me.” This second sentence seemed to be mumbled to someone off the radio.

“Shit! Sir, Cannon Three is completely destroyed! 7562-β is dead, it looks like six thousand-”

“Cannon One is down as well!”

“Cannon Two is destroyed.”

“Who was guarding those cannons?” Seven roared.

“Two thousand units, mostly,” the initial responding cyborg told him. “Cannon Three had a single seven thousand unit.”

“WHO WAS IN CHARGE OF ASSIGNING GUARDS?!”

“I put Hazon in charge of that,” Nine muttered. “He’s too intelligent to assign those.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Hazon’s voice crackled over the radio, “but I took some damage and wasn’t confident in my calculations so I handed it off to 7833-α. I thought she told you.”

“No. She didn’t.”

“Sorry, sir! And my name is Faldra!”

“Faldra, keep me updated when you do things.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Focus!” Seven barked. “Are all cannons destroyed?”

“Yes,” Hazon responded immediately. “And-” He cut out.

“Hazon? Hazon! What’s going on over there?” Nine demanded.

“We have a problem coming over the ocean, sir.” Hazon’s voice was weak.

“Define problem.”

“There’s a veritable fuckton of eight thousand units incoming from the Mainframe,” Caroline barked. “I can’t get a good visual because of the clouds but there’s at least a dozen.”

“Shit.” Nine immediately began shouting orders and had Hazon flip on the sirens, alerting everyone in the sector that something was horribly, horribly wrong. He ran outside, Seven not far behind- although he seemed content to hold his head in his hands and look extremely disappointed.

Nine skidded to a stop when his eyes picked up on what appeared to be airplanes- most of the Mainframe’s aerial eight thousand units, he guessed- flying in over the ocean, likely carrying hundreds of cyborgs.

We’re so dead.

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