The Assault Team (Dream)

Around the city, countless mosquito drones flooded the skies, attacking the Fairies and in a blaze of glories.

Dream watched this development. Bodies of defeated Fellows, reduced into piles of meat and limbs scattered around the park. The flowery Dryad was behind him, having its upper body sliced away. The pillar of inky darkness the monster conjured vanished into nothingness. It disappeared like a bad dream after the hero baptized the area in violence.

El Acerbia’s aim was a mystery, but Dream had an inkling about what he was planning.

One thing was certain, Acerbia wasn’t here for the Conference.

Closing his eyes, Dream traced the current of possibilities.

[Tenshou]

He felt his soul — his mind — liberated from the confinement of his body.

Dream’s invisible ghostly body saw the entire Danghai from bird-eye-view, and the situation didn’t please him.

A hulking demonic monster with a giant shark’s jaw instead of head was making Harbor District, biting a chunk out of the city.

The Business District was hit the most badly. Three monsters assaulted the pulse of the city. A gigantic Moth size of a house. A humanoid flaming lizard-man was attacking both the Fairies and fleeing humans. 

Then there was a plant which Mamacia Cocogar had become. Atalante was currently combating her, and Dream had faith they could get it under control.

Finally, in the station district, a large humanoid with alarming rotund flab of fat sauntered across the district. His very presence was softening the earth and changing the air, turning the Station District into a swamp.

It was clear who unleashed this monster. Their arrival was too coincidental with the drones flying around them.

Dream resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Great, more distraction from his plan to pull the rug from under the Fea. Dream already needed to track down a troublesome key to victory, and Acerbia made life harder. He lifted his Shining Cloud communication device and made an update.

“This is Dream. We have a problem. Acerbia has released what I presume is his failures at the Genolord Program on Danghai. I’m betting Acerbia will be recording us, but we don’t have a choice. Be warned; the Fairy is still a priority, but if you run into any of the Genolord be sure to take them out before they stack the repair bills.”

Dream turned off the communicator and trekked to save the Station District from turning into a swamp. The Magnum in his hand transformed into the Annihilator; a sniper rifle designed for long range take-down.

With the Genolord being so large, it was impossible for him to miss, but containing the super soldier turning the Station District into a swamp would require creativity.

…

The Rescue Team (Requiem, Lena Atalante, Ayla Orman)

The Rescue Team couldn’t listen to Dream’s message. It wouldn’t matter anyway because they received the news faster than he did.

Mamacia Cocogar and her new Genolord augmentation was providing the challenge of the lifetime.

Vines and roots flew everywhere, and Atalante was putting in maximum effort fending off the attack. Her Adamakles — [Feather Edge] — danced in the air, unleashing blade after blade of winds. The weed whacking duty yielded some result by slowing down the assault of whipping vines cracking the devastated street. Atalante wanted to believe she was winning, but the rapid pace which Mamacia regenerated convinced her that was wishful thinking.

Those roots knocked down buildings like they were wooden blocks, crashing the obstacle down upon Atalante who effortlessly parkour through the falling hazard.

Atalanta knew she must step her games up soon. The glowing of greenish light already clued her to the coming bio-plasma beam.

The burst of plasma cut through the street, chasing Atalante who ran on foot from the green torch of death. Atalente’s body suddenly turned into a blur. Her incredible speed, boosted by mastery over air-resistance and wind-propulsion, carried her forth. She burst up the wall like gravity was meaningless, timing her counter-attack by a second.

For Atalante, it was now a question of mentally counting to that moment. The pulse of the energy. The beat of heat. The rapid hissing of air as it expanded. At that critical second, she paused and released her skill to the rhythm in which the plasma engulfed her.

[Feather Decoy]

The beam of plasma engulfed the false mirage of wind.

Mamacia’s shoulder exploded in green blood from the attack she couldn’t see as Atalante emerged from behind her with a bloody sword.

An explosion rocked the air and several grenades flew at Mamacia, exploding in a fireball.

Sword in hand, the young hero returned from his temporary burial. 

Requiem cut his way through the troublesome vine. He rushed from the ground, leaping from the earth with the momentum backed by ample air-burst. He flew through the network of flailing wines, leaping from one to another like a goat skipping across mountain rocks. Requiem closed in at a blinding speed, and drew his blade across the Genolord's chest.

It was then another visitor dropped by.

A spectral rose with the color of the soil bloomed from above, unleashing a javelin of earth onto the flowery monster. At least twenty spears landed in critical locations across Mamacia’s stalk and root. From there a thin layer of stone spread, crawling across the monstrous forms that was the half-Elf. Mamacia growled and howled, but that earthen rose sprouted its own barbed vines, tangling with the half-Elf. The very contact between them accelerated the petrification.

With a closing howl, all that remained was a spectacular statue of the plant monstrosity.

Requiem and Atalante watched a woman arrive from the sky with a squad of men.

“Hello, my name is Ruine,” the woman in a one-piece stealth suit introduced herself. “I am a member of Diogenesis. Our leader tasked us to aid your liberation attempt.”

Requiem looked up and down at the beautiful, tall bombshell with piercing eyes and no-nonsense attitude. He couldn’t help but wonder about Orwell’s taste in women. Requiem dismissed the thought. Ruine’s guarded body-language told him she didn’t get recruited for being fancy.

Ayla picked that moment to rejoin the group, landing from up high in the comet of icy flames.

“Sorry, that hit me dazed for a couple of minutes!” Ayla looked at the new arrival. “We have back-up now?”

Before the group could celebrate, Requiem felt a bout of vertigo. The world was turning upside down, and his knee threatened to fall over.

He wasn’t the only one. Ayla and Ruine’s men already collapsed to the ground coughing blood. Atalanta went down on her knees and even their newcomer herself was panting like several functions of her body gave in.

From the corner of his eyes, Requiem could see a tiny little girl with a yellow bang and pitch-dark skin. The girl was dressed in a green gown with no eyes, noses, ears or any human features. The only thing she had was a wide uncanny mouth tainted in toxic green.

“Hello,” said the little monster. “You must be the lowly pawn the Anomaly sent against us. My name is Illness — The I.” She smiled like a predator. “Don’t worry. Your rotting bodies will make nice decorations.”

Requiem flared as his body fought off the sickness.

This must be one of the ten S-Rank Beast Tribunes Dream had warned them to be wary of.
…

In the Harbor District, Shandler the Insect Praetor met an unexpected obstacle.

Would it surprise anyone that this obstacle was self-created?

His goal was simple, followed the traces of translocation and attacked the retreating El Acerbia. Such a simple time-killing goal had progressed pretty well until he ran to the flying-ship being attacked by a guy with blue flames. Shandler -- being Shandler -- didn’t bother to scout friend from foe and attacked the fastest moving things he saw.

It was a classical instinct of the predator to chase moving targets and marked their territory with its dominance. Fea might be an artificial species, but the predatory instinct was perfectly imported to make them an apex weapon.

Apex or not there was a reason Lions and Hyena never opened a cross-continent fast-food franchise, developed agricultural civilization or invented the atomic bomb. The world might be cynic, but there are strengths in cooperation and humility. Sometimes stopping and talking peacefully before throwing a punch would yield a surprisingly good result.

Shandler didn’t do that. He attacked the guy assaulting Acerbia ships for kicks and sadistic glee.

Two things resulted from that action. The least of the problems was that Acerbia managed to use the chaos to escape. Normally, that result would rank higher on Shandler’s fuck-up meter, if not for the other consequence being infinitely worst for the survival of his entire race.

The insect Lord had roused the Leviathan larger than the impressive turtle holding up the elephant carrying the mountain of Sumeru. In one attack, he dragged the man who was labelled by Orwell Mehest as ‘Do-Not-Dare-Fuck-With’ and considered as the esteemed Darkseid-threat by Dream. For the Diogenesis and Horizon Dawn, the man Shandler offended was considered the balance breaker whose involvement was akin to a leading indicator to the conflict.

During Venistalis, this monster--this warrior--utterly mauled Empress in combat. He followed the horrifying feat up by dropping the almighty Ace. He was the main reason Orwell nearly won Venistalis. Had Dream not negotiated a deal for him to leave the battle, Chronicler wouldn’t be able to grab two of the Dawn’s heaviest hitters back to the sick-bay in one piece.

The name of the beast feared by both good, evil, and in-between was Samuel Wayward, and Shandler had annoyed him.

The consequence of this action was unimaginable to an entire race of Fea.

Blue flames swallowed the world. A jaw of fires that devoured flesh and mind and the entire district roared in raging azure fire.

Shandler ate the raging inferno with the heat of 10000 degree Celsius. It was the heat of the extraterrestrial Nebulae with hypersonic velocity. The blue devouring fire carried the Praetor of Insect across the historic harbor by the sea, demolishing every landmark and material in its path. Resistance against the raw thermokinetic package was futile.

Shandler’s exoskeleton warped, and his skin boiled. Summoning the power of an S-Rank, he successfully lowered his altitude enough to hit the ocean.

Pillars of steam and flames erupted. The ocean vaporized from the bolt of flames.

Samuel Wayward walked on the water. Vapor rose with every step as the ocean hit its boiling point. The Harbor District was aflame around him. The ocean steamed and the azure inferno blazed. Concrete melted and bubbled. Hot air rose, darkening the cloud, generating the winds which blew the Azure ember into the Business District.

It was the image of hell.

Cloaked in blue fire, Wayward stopped above the Praetor, steaming like a boiling insect from Wayward’s almighty heat.

Samuel Wayward was furious. He didn’t let it show, but failing to capture Acerbia lit a flame under him. That was a once-in-the-lifetime opportunity where the Isle of Knowledge’s Director was both unprepared and convicted of international conspiracy. It was an opportunity Wayward had waited for forever, and now it was forever out of his grasp.”

“You know what you have done today,” Wayward glared at the insect who stopped him from his life-goal.

“Don’t know,” Shandler spat. His tail readied his pincered tail. “And don’t care.”

“You will,” Wayward replied sternly. “Personally, I don’t really have that much stake in Tengen. I believe Dream and Orwell will be enough to defend humanity from your dollar-store knockoff. Not anymore.”

A blue bird of azure flames flew from the burning harbor, standing over 278 meters tall and double that length in wingspan. The cries of the fire-bird cracked the several stones in Danghai from the catastrophic spike in temperature.

“I will personally wipe your annoying species off the face of the planet, starting with you.”