Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]

We waste no time in making it back home. Chloe is desperate for a bath, I’m hungry, both of us are tired, and somewhere in the back of my head, all of the events of the past few days are really rubbing me the wrong way. More than sleep or food or a change of clothes, what I really want is a few hours to just exist. Exist and process and try to come up with my next steps.

Which is why, in an act of the universe deciding to once again flip us off, we arrive back at Chloe’s house to see the front door busted open, multiple windows shattered, and smoke billowing out the back door. Goddess forbid the two of us get even a single minute to rest and figure out what to do before another problem comes walking right up to our front door— literally— and dumping a huge shit for us to clean up.

With both of us flying around at breakneck speed, though, and plenty of magic at our disposal, it doesn’t take more than an hour to clean the place up. The windows don’t stitch back together perfectly, but it’s fine. It’s good enough to tape everything into place, and then, with a bit of glyph magic, reforge them into some panels that can fit back on the thankfully undamaged windowsills.

The burning smell and the smoke coming out of the kitchen? Just an overcooked piece of fish taken out of the refrigerator and cranked on the broiler. The refrigerator, in turn, had been left open when we arrived, which provided one important clue that not all was as it seems.

The second clue is the thermostat. During the summer, Alicia— still hard to call her Mom at times— tends to keep the heaven-sent air conditioning on seventy-five. The inside temperature is eighty-one. A bit stuffy, less than pleasant to lounge in, but far from the near triple digits it is outside and would have been inside if the draft had been going since she left shortly after we did. Based on everything, this break-in happened recently. Within the last hour; maybe two. And that–

“Sera!” Chloe’s scream echoes through our bond. “I think we– Come on, hurry, we need to go find Mom as soon as possible. I– I think–”

“Let’s get going.” I respond, in full agreement with Chloe’s dictum

Everything is starting to fall into place, even without a [Strategist] like Nicholas untangling the strings. Why would someone attack our house, so suddenly, and so recently? It doesn’t scream opportunistic theft; none of the other houses were broken into. Further, I realize as we’re flying north toward downtown, the alarm system wasn’t active. Whoever broke in was either observant enough to know the code, or skilled enough— most likely in the System sense— to crack it.

Nothing looked out of place, either. The televisions and other electronics weren’t stolen or shattered. It was all as if…

“They were wasting our time,” Chloe says.

It’s the only conclusion I can reach either. If they truly wanted to make us rage, they could have broken the pipes and flooded the house, or ripped apart the central air units, or… I dunno, just brought the entire house down. This was too surgical. Inconveniences, the sort of thing one or two people could slip in, cause, and slip out in a matter of a minute or two, all before anyone would be any wiser. Before anyone would see them and report the burglary.

And it had worked.

“Agreed. I think they acted as soon as we emerged out of that crater,” I say. “As if whoever is after us was counting on us to die in that blast, but then, as soon as we were caught running off, they went with their secondary plan.”

“Although, that begs the question of why not attack us while we were incapacitated?”

“They don’t know our exact capabilities. And if they had watched our battle the other day— I suspect they had— they would have seen me use that Skill that allows me to fight on despite technically being dead. That, and they might even know about [Seraphina Overlimit], which, yes, just got off its cooldown a few minutes ago, though I hope we don’t need it.”

“Not to mention that if we were strong enough to survive that explosion, or evade it, as actually happened, then–”

“They’ll go with the backup plan. Go after someone weaker in an attempt to get to us.”

It’s an absolutely sick and disgusting tactic. Even in the hell that is war, deliberately attacking civilians and noncombatants is considered among the most heinous of atrocities. And yet, such hostage taking happens, precisely because it works. My blood boils, thinking about Chloe’s mother and my adoptive mother, who raised me almost as much as my biological parents did, and how she could be in danger because someone has beef with the two of us.

I quickly pull out my phone and send a text to Nicholas, explaining the situation and our concerns.

“You feel the same way, don’t you?”

“I–” I take a moment to think through the maelstrom of emotions, trying and mostly failing to process the grief and panic and rage and anger ready to boil over at the slightest provocation. Still, as I look at Chloe’s grim face, I have to defer to her judgement. Antipathy toward the undead aside, she is the better of us, and so I ask her.

“What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know. Part of me says we should kill every last one of them. Man, woman, if there’s children involved, maybe we spare their lives, but if they’re going to go after and threaten to kill Mom like this? I don’t know if I can play nice with them. But… Let’s try to avoid killing if we can help it. And as little collateral damage as possible. I don’t think either of us want to deal with kill notifications for a bunch of low-level humans again.”

How could I forget that horrifying truth during that harpy battle? It was the best I could have done at the time, given the circumstances, but it still feels so wrong. A loss. People paid with their lives because we were too weak to deal with the swarm otherwise. Alexey paid with his life because Chloe and I were too weak to deal with Forneith without him.

Is that the only way? The only way to protect Mom, protect my city and my home and my life and my universe, is to get so outrageously powerful in terms of physical and martial might that no one even thinks about raising a hand against us again?

It doesn’t sit right with me. I still think it should be the people, collectively, who defend our home from pricks like that smug asshole who called himself demon lord before we all dragged him back to hell. But if people are going to take our magnanimity and our desire not to get involved as weakness? If they try to get rid of us just because we might pose a threat to their own power? Then absolutely. The gloves are going to come off. Hell is going to be raised and…

Deep breathing, Seraphina. Don’t lose yourself to rage. I grip Chloe’s hand and she squeezes back. We’re making our way downtown. Almost to the office building where Chloe works and–

You absolute motherfuckers. Because why not just pile more shit on the sandwich after everything else we’ve already gone through today. A whole damn line of good-for-nothing cops just standing around like assholes, forming some sort of perimeter, watching instead of, I don’t know, chasing after whoever or whatever broke into the office and probably–

Let’s just make sure that I’m not getting ahead of myself. Another deep breath as we touch down. It might not be what I know it is. I mean, yes, I know it is what it is, but I still want to make sure I hear it before I jump to conclusions.

“Ma’am,” Officer No-Brains says as she approaches. “This is a restricted area subject to an active and ongoing investigation. Now I’m going to–”

No time to deal with this shit. I [Dimensional Slip] out of existence and hide out in subspace for a few seconds, then reappear before the dumbfounded good-for-nothing.

“Seraphina Mortensen,” I say. My hand gestures to Chloe. “Chloe Jacobs. You’re probably heard of us. Her mother, Alicia Jacobs, works here, and we’re pretty sure that she’s either been kidnapped or is in the process of being kidnapped, so if you would kindly tell me what information you have about the suspects and where they went, we would be happy to let you get back to wasting your time and taxpayer resources.”

“Officer Tamia,” a gruff man’s voice interjects. “Stand aside.”

“But–”

“But nothing.” An older officer, probably around fifty, approaches. His features are hardened and his eyes have the look of someone who’s seen more than his fair share of shit in the old world. Glad to see he’s got some brains on his head as well. Never go in with positive expectations of the force, but dang if I’m not happy to see my expectations proven wrong.

“The girl in the robes is about ten seconds away from turning the entire street red with blood, and I don’t know what the girl with the silver wings just did, but it wasn’t some ordinary stealth [Skill]; as soon as she blinked out, [Life Sense] just completely vanished. Some sort of teleportation trick.

“Besides that, every one of us owes our lives to these two ladies, at least twice, once in just the past week. Just give the girl the information we have on her mother, and let’s make this easier on everyone.”

“But–”

I suppress my grin. There is a certain amount of satisfaction that comes from notoriety. If only we didn’t have to be here and chasing down some scumbags in the first place.

“Fine. Unfortunately, it’s not much.” She— Officer Tamia, apparently— hands me a single photograph. “This is the only photo we currently have from the security camera. We would’ve had more, but the individual inside was moving so quickly that he was only caught for a single frame.”

I look down at my phone. No response yet from Nicholas. I go ahead and send a picture of the photo to him as well, see if that helps him help us.

“How did he escape? Accomplices? Direction last seen? How long ago was that?”

“Flight, unknown, and north. About forty-five minutes ago, maybe an hour.”

A full… A full goddess-damned hour ago? For the love of fuck! They could be in at least three other states by now. By night’s end, the other side of the country; if they had help, they could be across the world!

Nicholas finally gets off his lazy ass and responds back. “I’ll see what I can do on my end, but it may take some time.” No condolences or sympathies. No immediate leads.

I want to scream. I want to find someone responsible and tear a limb off. Maybe two. I want to have a nice day with my girlfriend where I don’t have to worry that our mother is being tortured as a way to get to the two of us. But more than that, I want to see Alicia back home, safe and sound, where she belongs.

“Sera?” Chloe says.

“Yes, Chloe?”

“I think we need to get away from this place.” She takes my hand. “Now.”

“Is something coming?”

“I need to get away from here. Now. Before I do something I’m going to regret all the way to the grave.”

“Yes, Chloe. Let’s take some time to plan our next move. And remember, love. She’s my mother too. I will spare no effort to see our judgement brought down upon everyone who was involved in this.”

“I–” She floats up, and I follow. “I know. And I don’t want to think about it, Sera. Not for a little while longer.”