Heir Of Chaos

Sera led Dale out of the meeting room and back into the labyrinth they called a base.

The path they walked through was even more complex than the one he had taken earlier with Toxin. As they moved, Dale couldn’t help but wonder why someone as powerful as Sera would be a mercenary.

She was talented, clearly. So why hadn’t she joined a guild or created her own?

If that was too stressful — and perhaps too limiting — she could just as easily join a large corporation. Any company in the present world would readily accept a powerhouse like her.

’Waste of talent.’ If he suddenly became an Ascended, he would most definitely start his own gang.

His gang would be different from the rest. Aside from being led by an Ascended, he’d rule over other gangs and prevent them from messing with the lives of normal people.

Well, it was either that or becoming a menace.

’That will certainly be quite a show.’

They walked in silence for several minutes and the only sounds that could be heard were the soft scrape of their footsteps against the earthen floor and the distant drip of water somewhere deeper in the labyrinth.

’Talk about poor maintenance.’ Surely they must have had enough money to fix the place up.

Even the walls were rough and uneven.

Sera stopped before a door that looked identical to every other door they’d passed. She didn’t knock; instead, she simply pushed it open.

Inside, a man sat cross-legged on the floor with his eyes closed.

He inhaled slowly and breathed out through his nose.

There was nothing exactly special about him except for his tanned skin. If Dale passed by him on a road, he wouldn’t even spare him a second glance.

"Porter," Sera said, her voice carrying no inflection. "We need a portal to the desert. Watchtower One."

The man opened his eyes. They were pale, almost white, and for a moment, they turned to Dale and then back to Sera.

"One moment," Porter said. His voice was soft and distant, as if he were speaking from somewhere far away.

He raised his hand and traced a circle in the air. Where his finger passed, the air itself seemed to tear, revealing a shimmering oval that rippled like the surface of a pond. Through it, Dale could see sand, heat, and the familiar outline of Watchtower One in the distance.

Dale’s eyes widened. ’A portal. Actual spatial manipulation.’ He had seen Lord Byron fold space, but this was different.

The similarities were uncanny nonetheless. It also explained how they had gotten to the desert so quickly and unnoticed.

Porter gestured to the portal. "It will remain open for exactly two minutes. After that, you’ll need me to open another."

Sera nodded. She stepped through without hesitation, her golden wings folding against her back as she crossed the threshold.

Dale followed. Based on his interaction with Lord Byron’s teleportation, he had expected nausea but there was none — the transition was seamless and instant.

The heat hit him immediately. The sun was lower now, casting long shadows across the sand. The desert was quiet, save for the whisper of wind across the dunes.

Watchtower One stood in the distance, a dark silhouette against the orange sky.

Sera turned to face him. Her wings unfurled, and maybe it was because of the shadows but they seemed even brighter than before.

"You asked about my power," she said. "Now I’ll show you."

She raised her hand, palm open, and a bow materialized in her grip. It was simple, elegant, and made of what looked like polished bone. She drew the string back, and a golden arrow formed at her fingertips.

Dale watched as she aimed at a distant dune. The arrow flew, and when it struck the sand, it erupted into a pillar of golden light that rose high into the sky before dissipating into nothing.

Sera released another arrow, then another. Each one struck a different target, and each one left a different mark.

One exploded, superheating the sand until it turned into molten glass.

Another sent a shockwave rippling outward that flattened a dune entirely and a third split into a dozen smaller bolts that rained down like stars.

Dale’s jaw tightened. ’Well, I was wise not to attempt an escape.’ That certainly would have been the end of him.

Sera lowered her bow and turned to him. Her expression was unreadable.

"Now you know what you’re working with," she said. "Do you still have questions?"

Dale forced a dry laugh. "Plenty. But I’m smart enough to know when to stop asking."

Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Good."

Porter finally stepped through the portal behind them, his pale eyes scanning the desert with mild disinterest. He waved his hand, and the portal behind him closed with a soft hiss.

"Watchtower One," Sera said. "We have unfinished business there. The deserter may have left something behind."

Dale nodded and started walking.

Maybe it was Sera’s presence or the might she had shown earlier with her display but no worms sprouted out, hungry for their blood.

It wasn’t long before they reached the watch tower.

Dale sucked his teeth as he stared at the broken door. Debris and dust had completely ruined the bottom floor.

Even his bed and food supplies were ruined.

Sera gestured for Porter to circle the far side. "Check the perimeter. See if anyone’s been here since we left."

He nodded and traced another oval with his fingers, stepping into a portal.

Dale turned away from both of them and continued looking around. He didn’t actually expect to find anything.

Only a fool would return after being missed by his assailants.

’At the very least, I can find the phone and perhaps reach out to the military.’ Just because he had agreed to help them didn’t mean that he couldn’t betray them.

There were merits and demerits to both situations.

Just as he placed his foot on the stairs, a glint flashed in the corner of his eyes.

Dale managed to swerve out of the way, causing a short knife to miss his throat. He glared at the person before him who was hidden behind a mask.

’Another masked person?’ He was getting tired of people hiding their identities.

His hands instinctively reached for where his sabers would have been. ’Curse them.’ They were still with his weapons.

"So I assume you’re the deserter?" Dale asked him directly.

It wasn’t hard to assume. In fact, it was rather obvious.

The deserter didn’t answer and charged in with his knife again.