The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]

“ANASSA!” Elassa screamed. “TO ME!” Arascus felt the massive shift in the air pressure as Elassa was already beginning to channel a spell that would dwarf Continent Cracking. He turned from Squadron Mors and towards the Goddess of Magic and the chaos of the incision that the battle had been. Another ICDT tower was landing, deploying its toxic gas and fumes inmediately, sending countless demons into the air as it landed in their mass. Another set of strategic bombers were coming. To the south, the roar and heatwaves that accompanied nuclear explosions had come over them. Kassandora was sending everything they had.

“How long Elassa?” He asked. “To annihilate here.” The FPN-1 could not be risked exploding, they would close and destroy the portal, they would leave, and they would deal with Tartarus in the future. But for now, the greatest threat was that bomb, not the countless demons, nor the princes, nor whatever else Tartarus could claw into existence as it sat on the edge of annihilation. It was the Ardan creation, that could not be allowed to explode on Ardan soil.

“Anywhere from minutes to an hour.” Elassa said. “Don’t hurry me, don’t speak to me, don’t disturb me. If I can’t clear it, I will rip out this entire landmass and send it into orbit.” Arascus turned back, he caught the flashes of Irinika’s swallowing shadow in the distance, the dances of crimson sorcery that followed Anassa across her simultaneous existences, desperately holding against a swarm of bodies to keep the remaining towers up and pulsing, terraforming the ash to diamonds as long as possible.

“ANASSA! IRINIKA! TO ME!” His voice boomed over the horizon. This time, they had heard him.

And then, over the open local comms: “Dragon-One reporting, we are still in the air.”

Captain Deferre pushed the acceleration even faster as every control light in the cockpit of his bomber started to flash red. The engines were aflame, the left wing was damaged, the right was running out of mana. Catalyst-batteries five through eight had shattered, one of the bomb-bay crews had been caught by the shrapnel, the fuel temperature had already gone fast past its safety limitations. He gave it all the power he could, to outpace the burning of magical Tartarian flame that had come to intercept him.

Dragon-One crossed back into cold air of desert in utter chaos. Atmospheric bombers flew above them, the ICDT towers had been pushed back to lone islands even as more were landing. And from this high up, he could see ICBMS, smaller than ICDTs but still huge, make landfall around them. The tips of mushroom clouds, risen to their peaks were visible to the south, a set of bombs straight above Dragon-One, dropped from a contingent of bombers soaring high above the atmosphere, was knocked away by hammers as sword and spear came to fell the demons that were rising to chase the plane.

The Imperial troops on the ground were getting swarmed, lone pockets of resistance from the endless horde that was returning to protect its precious opening onto their far more precious world. Tartarus was throwing everything they had, at everything that remained. The rift had been ripped apart by a hurricane, now collapsing, the ash once again falling half-way to the deeps and bubbling again, waiting for whatever foul magics sent it into Arda’s atmosphere.

Captain Deferre saw the sight and made the call in his head, the idea of it not being a one-way mission had been a farce. They had known it from the start. He turned to his co-pilot, Captain Allegret. “We can still deliver it.” Before Allegret could respond, Arascus’ voice came over the local comms.

“Dragon-One status check.” His voice boomed through the radio as another trail of flame came to swallow Dragon-Two. The nuclear bomber saw its wing shift under the weight, the magical circuits enchanted onto its wings burning and cracking with blue lightning as their power was swallowed by.

Allegret moved his fist mid-way through the massive cockpit, through the glass, some demonic monstrum on black wings was already throwing itself at the plane. A blade shot out of the golden sky and sent it back down to the scarred earth of Arda. “Hell’s a one-way trip.”

Better words could not be said, Deferre returned the fist. “Hell’s a one-way trip.” He turned on the radio. “We can hand-deliver the FPN-1 to Tartarus Sir.” The battle surged around them, Irinika’s swallowing spheres of darkness that left nothing but broken bodies and shattered metal were approaching the rift, getting closer as the Goddess of Darkness slowly returned to the chaos at the very centre. A dozen Anassas, all the same person and yet split across different points in reality had conglomerated in the air.

“Deferre.” Arascus said. “Will you hit?” Another blast of fire came to swallow Dragon Three. The bomber lost control, its radio on one of Deferre’s side-screens going dark, its icon disappearing from the display grid. Another hail of steel came close to Deferre’s plane, a pillar of metal that suddenly descended from the sky to strike at something else chasing them.

“We will hit.” Deferre said. “Keep the gateway open for us.”

And for a moment, no reply. Deferre pulled his flight wheel back to him. And Arascus returned. “You have Arda’s blessing.” End of communications.

Captain Deferre pulled back the flight wheel, smattered with controls and lights that were all flashing deep reds in panic as Dragon One’s six engines sputtered out long trails. As far back as he could manage and then some, until it almost touched his chest. “Accelerate, all fuel to engines, turn on emergency power and switch to electricity if needed.”

“Two, three and five are already on electricity.” Allegret replied as Dragon One began its tilt upwards. A screech came from the skies, Raptor One dove past them, wings already tilted to a degree that a plane should not possess, the cockpit swivelling around as its chassis was a real neck. Steel poured from its jaws as Raptor Two circled above, coming down for its own flyby. And above them, another squadron of strategic bombers dropping pay-load after pay-load, simply opening their bomb-bays and not even bothering to aim their explosives into the general flood of Tartarus below.

“Hold off Elassa.” Arascus said. “Open the borehole again. They’re hand-delivering the package.” Elassa groaned, her body stopped its shaking and she took a deep breath of relief. Immediately, the air pressure dropped once again.

For once, there was no snarky reply or retort from her, the Goddess of Magic got to work immediately, her eyes barely open as she heaved the hurricane below their feet into existence again. She was re-channelling the power, Arascus felt it immediately, the storm shifted and started immediately and grander than before. Ash shot upwards, spiralling along the edges of the hurricane Elassa’s winds cracked the ground all over again and started to claw at the edges of the sandstone cliffs emblazoned with Tartarian redstone.

But behind it all, his eyes found Dragon-One once again, flying straight up like a rocket being sent to space, carving trails of red flames and black smoke from its six blazing engines; the colours of an Imperial funeral. “HOLD!” Deferre screamed to his own plane as the wheel rattled beneath himself. He looked up, or down, or behind him, to see the rift. Up, at the world as it swivelled around him, up, to gaze upon the Imperial forces desperately holding ground, up, to see the pulsing ICDT towers still work their magic and keep the ashen skies in the horizon at bay, up, across a field of diamonds and ash twinkling crimson.

And up, towards the hurricane submerged into the ground that was drilling a borehole to another world.

Elassa’s shining blue eyes, overspilling with the raw magical energies that wildly spilled from her, grew wide when she saw the what the demons were doing at the bottom. The ash that was being spilled into this world had stopped flowing some time ago, before, she had thought it was a mere disturbance caused by the ICDT towers. Now though, she could see clearly, the mile-wide portal to Tartarus had shrunk to half its size. They had realised that something was going to be sent through and… she screamed. “THEY’RE CLOSING THE PORTAL!”

“ANASSA!” Arascus shouted. “HOLD THE ASH! ELASSA KEEP THE RIFT OPEN!” He spun around, blades already striking past him like lightning as he pulled upon more of his own power. The monsoon of steel swarmed down past him like an endless swarm of locusts, piercing and shattering through everything it touched. Anassa disappeared from nearby one tower, and Anassa disappeared from another tower, and Anassa disappeared where she was ripping through a Tartarian magical communion, and Anassa disappeared from the air besides Arascus, and Anassa disappeared from behind a set of Imperial Knights she had been helping fend off a team of Greater Demons.

And Anassa reappeared in the centre of the hurricane, her crimson dress ever untouched even as her hair was caught by the winds and started to whip about like a crazed horse. Elassa shot past her, a shining comet descending down to the bottom of the world as the boring machine of the hurricane was replaced instantly by tunnel walls of red sorcery that swallowed and devoured the ash, wiping it away from reality.

Captain Deferre felt every muscle in his body scream as the sheer speed of Dragon-One threatened to rip the plane apart. He saw the channel open up for him, guided by a lighthouse of a shining star at the very bottom, the walls of his flightpath illuminated with crimson sorcery instead of magic. “It was a pleasure flying with you captain.” Allegret said from the side.

“The pleasure was all mine.” He pushed the acceleration down as the nose of Dragon-One began its tilt downwards. The bomber immediately started to pick up speed, one of its guiding wings set alight from the tiny set of explosions as the plane’s enchanted circuitry burned out, trying to keep the entire structure together. It didn’t matter at this point, they weren’t flying this anywhere. It was a dive, nose first, straight down, into a portal a hundred-metres wide at the most. Deferre locked his hands, his elbows, his knees, his neck and his eyes on the target.

It was the easiest flight manoeuvre of his entire life.

Irinika watched a spear descend from the sky, its tip a burning flame, its shaft pure black smoke, descend from the sky. Arascus saluted the flying hulk of wreckage at this point as it screamed past him. Anassa watched with wide eyes, her lips curling into a grin at the sheer honesty of madness in display before her. And Elassa groaned, channelling all she could, as she single-handedly kept the portal stable.

Knight Julius watched as Dragon-One, every single of its six engines aflame, disappeared beneath the surface of Arda. Vanishing behind the black silhouette of cracked cliff that lined the edge of the rift to Tartarus. Six trails of flame carving a black cape into the sky below it. A cape of royalty, or a black spear sent from the sky and down to Tartarus.

Captain Deferre felt the world’s gravity shift, from down to up again as he looked in awe at the hellscape before him. Grand towers, that reached from the floor to the ceiling with patterns of flowing magma trailing down them. Roads utterly overflowing with bodies, all armoured demons that had momentarily paused their endless stream onto Arda. Massive canals filled with flowing ash, blocked off by huge steel gates.

Arascus’ voice boomed across the world, even though Elassa was already on it. “Close it!” Elassa cut off the magic flowing from her with a snap of her fingers.

And as it shut, one last gasp over the local comms. “Dragon-One reports, mission success. Au revoir Arda.”

Arascus saw a flash of the Nene awakening. An oaken tree swallowed the bomber in an instant, its bark setting alight immediately as the Tartarians immediately targeted with their own magic. Roots out of those flames, swallowing the heat as if it was, dropping seeds and miasma, branches shot out like bullets in all directions even before the wreckage of the bomber touched the ground. In an instant, a forest had appeared, in the next, they would be dealing with a jungle. By tomorrow, they would be swallowed by an ever ravenous, ever devouring, ever unsated concoction fashioned from the depths of Baalka’s and Iniri’s minds.

The gateway to Tartarus slammed shut immediately, Elassa heaved and dragged the portal shut. It simply disappeared without even a crash, just blinking out of existence in silence.

Apocalypse returned.

- - - End of Arc 20: The Unworthy Apocalypse - - -