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B2 Chapter 26: Blade Fanatic

  As the transport drove into the Veilsurge, they emerged on the other side into a place that looked like the interior of a warehouse. Evantra stared at the tanks arrayed outwards on either side of the road, her grip around the seat in front of her tightening when she realised what they housed.

  Veilcreatures.

  They’ve captured the Veilcreatures holding open the Veilsurge, sedating them. That way, they continue to have access to the portal for travel for as long as they survive. It seems like Nezha has found a way to stabilise travel to some degree. Figures, given that they’re in the business of transport.

  She had always wondered about the viability of veil-assisted travel. Although it had been too unstable to be made available to the masses, it seemed like the megacorporations had found a use for them. In this case, it was being used to surmount space travel.

  If there have been portals to Mars…

  I wonder just how far the other portals have extended to.

  Evantra felt a chill run down her spine.

  But that also means… that whenever I’ve stepped through a Veilsurge, there was always the possibility that it led off-world?

  Then she frowned. The prerequisite for an operational portal was that there were creatures on the other end of it that sustained it. Only by killing those creatures would the portal fade. That meant that so long as the creatures were able to survive, the portal would remain.

  But if there are creatures capable of residing in the harsh reaches of space which accessed the Earth using veilsurges…

  “Welcome to Mars.”

  Evantra’s eyes widened as they reached the end of the temporary hanger, the doors sliding open and blinding the passengers within the transport. Evantra heard yells of surprise and amazement as the passengers took in the Martian environment around them.

  The red Martian soil coated the area around them; that much was familiar. But beyond it, was a large facility. Unlike the sweeping continental greenhouses, this was a fully-fledged research facility. The entire building was clad in glass and concrete, standing out starkly against the red soil which bordered it. It looked more like an enormous corporate headquarters than a greenhouse.

  But it was what was beyond it that captured everyone’s attention.

  “It’s real. They’ve done it,” Evantra heard another passenger whisper.

  There were many shots of Mars from a distance broadcasted on media channels. Demeteria made sure to advertise the progress they had made in terraforming the planet widely known. But they had never broadcast an image of what it looked like from the surface. Evantra also heard that they had set up an exhibit in Elsecaller’s museum.

  Evantra stared at towering trees that eclipsed the research facility in height. Thick, lush vegetation extended outwards behind the research facility. While vast swathes of the planet still remained barren, the megacorporation had been successful in its early terraforming efforts.

  The passengers gasped when the transport’s windows began to rise, the cabin within depressurising. Shouts of wonder emerged as they realised—

  We can breathe.

  They’ve gotten oxygen levels to a habitable threshold.

  Then, her breath caught as she saw something further above the planet’s surface.

  One of Demteria’s supercruisers – an enormous spaceship constructed by Tsukuyomi – loomed over them from Martian orbit. It was the largest vehicle that Evantra had ever glimpsed, eclipsing even the Spirit of Nimue in size.

  The image of the Spirit crashing down into the junkyard returned to her, bringing her a measure of peace in the face of the scope of the megacorporation’s activities.

  They all come down just the same.

  ***

  One month ago

  “Will you come out?”

  Evantra waited with bated breath, her heart hammering in her chest. She was seated together with Uriel, Jack, Noelle and Benjamin. Very notably, Jack had his canvas bag over his shoulder, and Uriel’s golden eyes were glowing a little more intensely than usual.

  They waited with bated breath.

  “They might be able to help you.”

  Silence.

  Her companion, the wraith, didn’t appear. Evantra let out a slow sigh, before shaking her head.

  “It’s temperamental. It showed itself to Carmen and Amy, but hasn’t really appeared since. I can still feel it. Its hunger and… desperation. But I can’t communicate with it directly. Did you ever come across magical girls with a similar… companion?”

  Uriel and Jack exchanged a smile.

  “Can’t say that we have, Dozza. Your companions usually take the form of a creature you find comforting in some way. Old mate was a huntsman. That's a spider about this big,” Jack said with a grin and gesture depicting a size that no spider had any business being, which was about the size of his large palm.

  Evantra could detect a hint of sadness as his eyes tightened while he spoke about his companion.

  “And I had…” Uriel cleared her throat, breaking away her eye contact. “A daschund.”

  “Amitabha… you certainly have an interesting conception of ‘cuteness’, Wraith.”

  Evantra let out a sigh.

  They had been over the events in Wisptown. Caliburn’s attempt to form a bond or contract with Galahad, the revenant from Avalon. How Uriel had covered her back when the PIU made attempts to investigate her role in the incident, just like she had with the laboratory.

  “Well… let’s put your ‘companion’ aside for now. Moving on to your friend... Trevor,” Uriel continued.

  “Spirits range wildly in their strength. But as you’ve noticed, they take possession of humans. Lower-class spirits drive their hosts to insanity. Higher-class ones – class one and two spirits can take over a human altogether, mimicking the individual and drawing on their memories. They can be indistinguishable from their hosts, walking in their skin.”

  “If that’s the case…” Noelle began, her brows furrowed as she ran her fingers through her hair.

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  “What’s stopping spirits from taking possession of the people in positions of the most power? From ruling megacorporations—”

  “Nothing,” Uriel said simply.

  The trio stared at their new mentors in silence.

  Jack shook his head, shooting a drawn smile at Uriel.

  “There’s a reason they’re as high up on the rankings as they are. We’re confident that spirits have infiltrated the highest echelons of society. Some taking up positions of power in megacorporations, and others…” Jack trailed off, his mirth fading and expression hardening.

  “Outright ruling them.”

  They were seated in Uriel’s dining room, with floor-to-ceiling windows which gave them an excellent view of their goal.

  Elsecaller City.

  Gargantuan Nezha transports circled the tall megacorporation headquarters projecting holographic advertisements. Tall towers of steel and glass carved into dark skies, modelled after the different megacorporations.

  Elysium’s building was covered in abyssal black panes interspersed with gleaming silver lines that ran over the exterior of the structure like an intricate web. Rumour was, that in the dark of night, a sprawling spider could be glimpsed creeping across it. The visage of Arachne from Greek mythology. A reflection of the Megacorporation’s vision and obsession with fate, immortality being their ultimate goal.

  Nezha corporation’s headquarters which sported a sprawling holographic red flood dragon which coiled languidly around the building, visible even from Bastion. A silhouette could be seen from the tower’s apex of a figure wielding a staff and a gourd – the statue of their ‘mascot’ and origin of their company words - Equal to Heaven.

  Sun Wukong – Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal.

  Demeteria Agricorporation’s own headquarters, with a sprawling white, square tower that cut into the skies alongside them. This one with a hollow exterior, from which giant trees emerged, covering the fa?ade of their Headquarters in beautiful foliage. The onlookers below would have glimpsed bioluminescent flowers of every colour adorning the various levels of the building.

  The City of Hope and Horror.

  Where legends were born, and ghosts roamed free.

  It was only when Noelle put a hand over hers that she realised it was shaking. But to hear it confirmed from two slayers who were legends in their own right…

  Evantra felt a chill run down a spine at the look on the [spirit] ranked Ghostslayer’s expression.

  “Jack,” Evantra said. “How did you get your rank?”

  The man fell silent but gave her a resolute nod, yellow eyes disconcertingly impassive.

  “You don’t get the rank if you kill a class 5, 4, 3 or 2 ghost of a given type,” Jack said.

  Jack was usually a rock to lean on. Both in the Rosewood veilsurge and since they had joined their alliance. Always ready with a quick quip and a grin to lighten the mood.

  Now, the Aussie’s face was devoid of his usual mirth and warmth. Now, Evantra was confronted with the [spirit] ranked slayer.

  “You have to kill a class 1 variant of the ghost. And the spirit I killed…”

  Jack’s eyes lingered on the horizon.

  “Took possession of my missus. She was a high-levelled magical girl with [rogue] abilities. A nightmare to deal with on the battlefield and while sparring. Don’t know what she saw in me,” Jack’s lips formed a wry smile while he wiped away an errant tear with a shake of his head. “I knew the moment she returned home. That’s the trick to high-levelled spirits… little things out of place, nuances to the person’s character that they fail to replicate.”

  Evantra felt Noelle’s hand tighten around hers as tears ran down her friend's cheeks.

  Thinking of their friend.

  “But however strong the person is – magical girl or not – the spirit amplifies their abilities. Even then, in most cases, a class 1 wraith or revenant could eclipse a spirit of the same class in raw power. A spirit’s true danger is their sentience and their ability to conceal themselves from detection,” Uriel said with a nod to Jack.

  “A class 1 wraith might wipe out a city. A class 1 spirit could lead a megacorporation, gradually increasing humanity’s dependence on their products and services, then crippling humanity by introducing harmful substances, or simply from removing said products which we grow to rely on. Weaponising capitalism,” Uriel continued.

  “How are spirits summoned and killed,” Evantra said softly.

  Seeing the look on her face, Jack gripped her shoulder with a reassuring smile.

  “Nah, mate. There’s nothing you could have done with Trev. The only way we know of is to kill the host once the ghost takes root. Old mate Galahad’s blade might be an exception to that rule, but we can’t be sure until we put it to the test. It would make it the bane of class 1 spirits with multiple hosts.”

  Evantra let out an imperceptible sigh, her shoulders falling.

  “As for the initial summoning and possession? The ritual involves a cursed artefact. One that’s imbued in power by certain means. The empowering ritual to draw the spirit to our realm can look vastly different, depending on the nature of the spirit. In your case, the spirit seemed to have some attachment to children. The murders around Wisptown seemed to feed on the agony of children from the deaths of their caretakers. As for the anchor? Or the main individual the spirit possesses? There must either be a link to the ritual, its victims, or the host must be weak enough for the spirit to override their will. In Caliburn’s case…”

  Uriel’s golden eyes met Evantra’s.

  “They likely did both. Pushing your friend to his limits when they captured him and then inducing the possession when he was at his weakest to ensure the ritual's success. He also had a deep sympathy for the victims and the children, and he was the prime target for possession.”

  “What’s to stop the spirit from jumping from body to body?”

  “That’s exactly why class 1 spirits are so difficult to kill. They’re fully sentient, highly intelligent, and prepare as many contingencies as they can afford to. The only way to kill them for good, is to identify all the other bodies they’ve prepared for possession by hosting rituals. Their ‘alts’ go about their life, none the wiser to the spirit’s presence.”

  “My [ritual of veilsight]. It helps me identify rituals. If their bodies are the site of a ritual… I might be able to identify spirits, maybe even their alts and anchors prematurely. If only we could find a way to drive them out… without having to kill the host.”

  The beautiful Ghostslayer’s red lips curled into a smile, which Evantra returned.

  “That’s bloody right, Dozza. Now, I’ve got a gift for you.”

  Evantra frowned as Jack reached into his pack. He extracted a curved black sheath from within, and Evantra’s eyes leapt to the grip – criss-crossing black threads covering the hilt. The pattern formed diamond shapes that ran down the middle of the hilt.

  “We know you’ll want to keep a hold of Galahad’s blade. The only way you’re going to justify bringing that along as a souvenir to Mars is if you sell yourself a certain way,” Jack said with a grin.

  They had spoken at length about whether Evantra should bring along Galahad’s blade. The risk that it fell into Demeteria’s hands if they were captured was plausible. But having a weapon capable of fending off ghosts far above her level was nothing to scoff at either. That aside, without her system, it was difficult to tell a mundane-looking artefact apart from a more... eccentric alternative.

  “Go on,” Uriel said with only the barest hint of a smile. Evantra was confident that the Ghostslayer was holding it in.

  Evantra unsheathed the katana. Its blade was a burnished black metal, honed into a razor-sharp edge. It was very light to wield, and there was an embossed golden serpentine dragon that ran the length of the blade.

  “Woah,” Noelle breathed.

  Evantra winced as she turned the blade over, inspecting it.

  “Isn’t this a bit... much?”

  “Kids these days, no bloody gratitude,” Jack grinned.

  Uriel smiled before gesturing to the sword.

  “You’ll find that most amateur Ghostslayers are… eccentric. You have the military types, with their own baggage and quirks. But the rest of them? Many of them gravitate towards concepts or particular weapons. Especially if they’re the kids of corpos. If you insist on bringing along Galahad’s Blade… then you’re going to have to play the part of the blade fanatic well.”

  “Blade fanatic?” Evantra raised an eyebrow towards Uriel.

  The Ghostslayer shrugged.

  “How else are you planning to explain why you’re lugging around two medieval swords with you? Especially when we have this wonderful thing called guns to rely on?”

  “Yeah, nah Dozza – she’s got a point there.”

  And I have a feeling Tai would agree with it too.

  “Jack… weren’t you the one who attached two heated blades to your arms before slicing the bloodspawn apart?”

  “Fuck yeah, that was a good time,” Jack grinned, as Evantra and Uriel sighed in unison. “If you pass me the artefact, we’ll forge a blade to complete the shattered blade.”

  Evantra felt the familiar sensation of distrust creep up on her as she extracted the artefact from her backpack. Noelle nodded encouragingly as Evantra slowly handed it over to Jack. Benjamin, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the scene immensely.

  “Amitabha buddha. You have grown significantly, Wraith. It is a beautiful thing to see such character development—”

  “Shut it, Ben.”

  Jack laughed before shooting her a wink.

  “I’ve got a mate who dabbles in forging, I’ll be able to get it back to you by this arvo,” Jack said with a wave.

  Evantra frowned as Jack left the apartment.

  “Arvo?”

  “It means ‘afternoon’,” Uriel muttered, pinching her temples.

  ***

  Evantra eyed the pair of blades in her quarters.

  It seemed like Uriel had been right.

  If you were exceptional enough, accommodations could be made for your quirks. But it also meant that you were expected to perform. And Evantra was met with her expectations quickly as her comm device crackled to life.

  “Operative Anderson, I’ve sent you your patrol route. Memorise it. Report to Doctor Antoine Venn at 1100 hours tomorrow. He’s the lead researcher in charge of Project Gaia and will be briefing you on protocol. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  It was time to get to work.

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