Isaac stood in terror at the two Phage-infested marines lingering next to the inquisitor. Her otherwise well-kept hair beneath her black and white officer’s cap now dangling and frazzled across her frenzied face, breathing heavily behind clenched teeth. Above, the sound of metal bending echoed throughout the space.
“Submit and be freed of mortal suffering.” The inquisitor, hunched over, reached for him as if he were an object on a shelf.
The offer repulsed him in the most primal way. One look at the contorted guards’ faces, permanently locked in torturous agony, their jaws distended and eye sockets empty, sent a shiver down Issac’s spine. In the viscous mire of the leftmost guard’s helmet lingered a worm-like creature that slithered around his glass visor before squeezing into his right eye socket and disappearing into his sinuses. The guard’s head bobbed as the thing entered his head, but otherwise remained still.
Isaac gritted his teeth and breathed heavy to ready himself. “Why don’t you come and get me?” He brandished his gladius at the inquisitor.
She laughed and sauntered towards him. “What exactly is that going to do?”
As the inquisitor closed in on him, he braced his sword arm, ready to stab if she made a move. But she only continued to advance. As she got within reach, Isaac wound up and readied to pierce her heart, center of mass just like Erik taught him. After another sluggish step towards him, he struck out.
The blow landed almost exactly where he aimed. Not that she was hard to hit. The weapon sank deep into her flesh, down to the hilt, and the sword tip burst out from her back, bathing the white of her jacket in rancid black blood. The inquisitor stopped mid-stride and looked down with a steely expression. Her lack of a reaction to being skewered stunned Isaac.
“It will only hurt for a moment.” The inquisitor’s voice grew calm, soothing as she yanked the blade from her chest and dropped it on the floor. As soon as the weapon exited her body, the wound closed.
Overhead, a slice of the bulkhead partition broke away and slammed into the floor. A shadowy figure fell through the hole and landed with finesse, as a cat would from a great height. With a small slap of a heel against the metal plate floor, a crystalline mist trailed the stranger, filling the room with an icy cloud. Each strobe of the emergency lights blasted the room like a camera flash, bursts of photons refracting off the frosty fog blinded.
The mystery arrival gestured as if an orb were in front of them and they were spinning it. As they swirled their fingertips, a blue glow emanated from the center point of their motions, revealing their previously silhouetted features. The inquisitor turned and pivoted away from Isaac, ready to strike with arched fingers.
“Glaciebus!” The stranger, a woman, shouted from behind a spacesuit visor. What light the orb produced grew brighter as the mist coalesced into its form.
The suit was something Isaac had never seen before. Almost form-fit, in contrast to the bulky second gen suit he wore, the visor was actually a dome, covered by a draped azure argyle cloth that was tucked under her miniature rounded pauldrons. The rest of her suit was charcoal with hints of navy blue, except for her boots which were white. From the orb between the stranger’s palms came an explosion as the rounded shape shattered and from within, burst forth a massive icicle.
As the bolt of ice rushed toward the inquisitor, she dodged but was too late. The mass pierced her gut and sheared a chunk of flesh from her torso and drove through, pinning the meat-laden icicle into the bulkhead, filling Isaac’s suit with an ear-piercing screech.
The inquisitor fell to one knee, grasping at the missing mass above her hip. “Kill them!” She shouted at her guards.
With more gesticulation, the stranger readied to evoke another orb but found herself only swaying with empty movement. As the guards lurched towards them, the mystery woman pivoted to look at Isaac.
“Balance!” She shouted at him.
“What does that mean?” Isaac hollered back.
The stranger motioned with her hands. “Do something!”
In revelation Isaac placed his gloved hand over his torso. Despite the distance, he could feel the mark radiating from his chest to his hands. Remembering what was taught to him in the shadow dream, he thrust his palms forward and shouted, evoking a momentary wave of fire that bathed the two guards in white-hot flame. The searing surge surprised the stranger, and she stumbled backwards in shock.
Gasping for air, the inquisitor couldn’t muster enough strength to stand. Seeing her guards incinerated and turned to dust, she panicked and with the whisk of her hand, her form fell to shadow, and she disappeared. As her shape dissipated, the inquisitor’s voice filled the space. “Know this, heretics: you can’t fight the inevitable. There’s no where you can run from me.”
With the inquisitor gone, the overhead lights ignited, and the emergency lights stopped strobing.
“What was that?” The woman spoke with a hushed, trembling voice. “I’ve never seen such raw power before.”
The doors on the bulkhead unlocked with an audible click and slid open.
Isaac looked down at his hands, unsure of what she meant. His gloves were charred. Rubbing his fingers together caused the surface to fall to ash and expose his skin underneath. The kind of fire evoked was no different than when he battled Slephna. And the Ordinal didn’t have much to say about it. Well, she had words, but they were mostly in anger.
“I don’t—” Isaac started.
“Get on the ground, get on the ground right now!” Marines shouted cacophonously as they filed into the antechamber with guns drawn.
Isaac instinctively raised his hands, shocked. The stranger begrudgingly followed suit.
We got another intruder here.” The lead marine trained his gun on the woman.
With a yank on the handle of his oxygen tank, Isaac was dragged out of the antechamber by Jakob.
“Where’s the inquisitor?” Jakob shouted.
The docking controller came in on the radio. “Second Expedition dispatch ship outbound.” That was the inquisitor leaving.
“She attacked me.” Isaac spoke flatly, still trying to process what had just happened.
“Say again?” Jakob leaned forward, to lock his gaze with Isaac.
With his brother coming into view, Isaac snapped his attention back to what was going on around him. “The inquisitor, she somehow locked me in there and—”
An automated warning blared over the intercom overhead. “Threat level red: Phage detected in Section B-12 to C-12 connector. All medical staff deploy quarantine immediately.”
“At least you got your suit on.” Jakob took a step back.
Isaac revealed his exposed palms, sheared gloves.
In shock, Jakob slammed his fist against the wall. “Shit!”
It was the first time in a very long while that Isaac saw any kind of outburst from his brother. In a way, it was comforting, like seeing his brother from the past, before everything changed.
“Medical response, what’s your ETA?” Jakob radioed, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“ETA two minutes.” The quarantine staff responded.
“Nothing takes two minutes, get your ass moving!” Jakob gestured ahead, as if who he was talking to was right in front of him.
The marines emerged from the antechamber and placed the mystery woman seated against the wall. Then a second, unknown man in a similar suit was sat next to her, both of their arms were bound behind their backs. Isaac thought the man looked familiar but wasn’t sure from where.
“Vulkan…” The woman hushed out, nervous.
“Just be quiet Embla, let me do the talking.” The strange man, Vulkan, responded.
“You infected?” Jakob squared off and bent down, almost touching helmet to helmet with Vulkan.
“No. Neither of us are infected.” Vulkan locked eyes with Jakob.
“You better hope you’re right.” Jakob spoke through clenched teeth. Then he turned to the response squad which included Erik and Helvig. “Marines, weapons in a row against the wall. I want armor plating stacked in front of them. Do not take your helmets or suit off.”
As he spoke, the marines did as ordered, lining their weapons up and disassembling armor plating from the harness on their spacesuits one by one. As the group disarmed, several civilians stumbled out from the bunkhouse only a few paces beyond the bulkhead.
“Stay in your dorms. We’re handling the situation.” Jakob pointed and spoke with authority.
The first resident, a man in a brown jumpsuit was breathing heavily, a large pustule pulsated on the side of his face.
"It’s already spreading.” Embla spoke solemnly.
