In a dark tower, a red hologram of an asteroid rotated as a pod attempted to land. Six individuals joined their collective mana pools to manipulate their instrument, a space drone named The Last World on a deep space comet. Decades and millions of dollars had gone into a single moment. After matching the rotation of the deep-space object, their pod landed. Engines fired altering the comet’s path.

 

On a massive clock hands moved, slowly counting down the seconds until their plan came to fruition. The hands of the second, minute, hour, day, and month moved constantly. Only the year and decade hands remained stable. The new age was assured, and their mage culture would take the planet. There would be no more qi, spirit, energy, or technology more advanced than in the Middle Ages. The time until the birth of the new world counted down. Upon the clock the symbol that appeared as a crossed cursive n with a tail at the end lit for a moment.   

 

The group waited for a sign of damage to the construct before they collectively sighed. None in the room held a rank below Archmage. Isis glanced at her fellow members, the enigmatic Isaac engineer and master of magitech. Samuel, the most powerful necromancer in the United City States, wore black robes fit for a death march. Edward was a philosopher with a grey mullet who cut his teeth on telekinesis and mind arts. He was known as a master of mutant breeding. She shivered at the noises that emerged from that man’s workshop. Joseph Kennedy was a man from old money who was responsible for most of the funds behind their venture. If she didn’t look too closely, she could let herself be fooled by his glamour. Only when she let her other senses take over did she see the tentacles underneath. Alexander was a redhead who appeared as a young man and often surrounded himself with beautiful women. Those accessories often made young mages jealous, enough to try and sleep with them. She cleaned up many of those messes in her early years at Wichita Tower. Alexander Anderson was a powerful warlock who dealt with beings beyond their world. Then there was herself; she was Isis Stark, sister of Ra and self-proclaimed lover of mage culture. After she abandoned her roots, she found a group that loved mage culture as much as she did.

 

“It seems we are under budget for once,” Joseph said.

 

“That would be what you care about. Maybe we could light this candle if you stopped getting on our asses about money.” Alexander said.

 

“Our time will come exactly when it’s supposed to, not a moment before,” Samuel said.

 

“We’re only under budget because we’re great pilots; come on, guys, let's party. World Gov is destroying the android's most faithful weapons against us. They think a few cheap drones can fill the vacuum. Isis could probably wipe them all out herself.” Isaac said.

 

As a pure healer, they believed she was their weakest member offensively. There were some secrets even her cabal couldn’t know. Her last PL scan clocked her at around 550,000; theoretically, not much could challenge her. Just because she no longer believed in their culture didn’t mean her power vanished. As an Arch Mage, she was lvl99 in her beloved culture and only needed to use a dragon’s heart in a ritual to break the level cap. She had the preparation but not the opportunity to make the leap to Wizard King.

 

“When your enemies are killing each other, leaving them to it is best. Wipe out their drones, and they will take the vampires back and give them even more power.” Edward said.

 

“We have enough trouble with the conservatives; Congress has refused to declare war, and dictator  Augustus hesitates to use his executive powers. He fears radicals will exploit the situation and spark a war with the UCS government.”

 

“Those pigs in robes think we can keep to the status quo forever. None of them will do what it takes to put us on top.” Alexander said.

 

“What do you propose we do?” Edward asked.

 

“I have an apprentice down south hiding north of Jackson Megacity in a little town called Tishomingo. Let's have him summon some demons and raise hell. After we park a legion of demons all over the state, the other treaty with the VHA will force Augustus to send more powerful mages south to deal with the problem. With so much movement, what will it look like to the Borgs?” Alexander said.

 

“I disagree,” Isis said.

 

“What’s wrong with his idea. Many conservative mages will die.” Samuel said.

 

  “They are still our people and deserve your respect,” Isis said.

 

“When the meteor strikes, they will be sacrificed regardless to usher in a new age of plentiful mana. Filters and pumps will no longer be needed to live in comfort.” Alexander said.

 

“That is still years away, and we may need the conservatives to sacrifice elsewhere. Let's not use them up if we don’t have to.” Isaac said.

 

Of course, the engineer would see only the pragmatic side of things. Isis watched the man pull at his power armor chassis. He was uncomfortable and unused to meeting or wearing anything lighter than a full mobile suit.

 

“Then I will have her spin his wheels and await further orders. She’s making sport of the local inquisitors from his last reports.” Alexander said.

 

She had to send one of her apprentices to intercept Zerg before the elf started a war. Thankfully, it no longer mattered; even if the Isekai order fell, nothing would stop the meteor.

 

…

 

Lights from the city came into view as we trudged along the road.

 

 

“Why did you insist on skinning them? We’ve lost an hour we could have spent partying.” Ember asked.

 

I dragged a makeshift sled behind us. 25 werewolf hides with a few exotic colors would sell for a few grand each. We were hurting for cash, and I planned to stock up on some fish to pad out our food supplies. Maybe hire some escorts for Ember to hypnotize and invite back home. We couldn’t do this every week, and she needed human blood. Maybe with enough strippers, she wouldn’t have to drain them all; instead of saying that, I decided to go with something classier.

 

“It’s getting cold soon. I thought you would like a coat.” I said.

 

She narrowed her red eyes, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t buy it.

 

“You’re sweet, but I don’t like their smell any more than you do.” I snapped my fingers and sighed. “We could still sell them. The VHA would certainly take them.” Ember said.

 

“Well, if you’re sure. Maybe we should be a little more pragmatic then. I saw this ad for Tishomingo escorts.” I said.

 

“Awe, that’s so sweet of you. I haven’t had a good escort since I left the Jackson Megacity. What flavors do they have?” Ember asked.

 

I don’t know why, but after we murdered the werewolves together, she opened up. She was so much freer with her nature than before.

 

“Can you feed a little from them at a time and make them last?” I asked.

 

“Oh, how many were you planning to buy for me,” Ember asked.

 

“Um, as much as we can afford. You can hypnotize them into following us once we have them.” I said.

 

She gave me a look like I had said something right. It was the weirdest feeling.

 

“You are trying, so I will meet you halfway.” Ember said.

 

“I prefer Asian, elves, Latinas, and blasians. Now, don’t be fooled by the ads. Asians are only of Japanese, Chinese, Korean, or Thai descent. I don’t want Arabian blood; if you don’t know, blasians are black African and Chinese Asian mixed; they are my favorite. Go easy on the Latinas; they often cause fights and don’t get any elves with cut ears; their spirits are most likely broken, and their blood will taste weak.” Ember said.

 

My vampire was clearly more opinionated than I thought. Using my money as a lure would still cost me on our date. But really, what was this to her except bringing her dinner. I couldn’t believe halfway was finding out she had picky tastes.

 

 

Ember’s appearance shifted. Her entire bone structure changed; the almost glowing crimson in her eyes settled into a blue, and her hair lengthened and bounced. Soon, she looked like an East European woman with long, glossy black hair and chilling blue eyes. Her red dress made her appear foreign in the dirt-covered landscape; no one would believe she came from the road. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on her clothes.

 

I scooped up some dirt and threw it at her. She gasped as the dirt fell on her red dress. 

 

She gripped the handle of her weapon until I raised an eyebrow.

 

“For what reason did you dare to despoil my dress,” Ember said.

 

“You wouldn’t have passed the first inspection without some dirt on your clothes. We just came from killing a legion of werewolves.” I said.

 

She held out her hand to me, and I took it. Warm was my first thought.   

 

“Those werewolves have helped me blend in better than ever before,” Ember said.

 

We approached the gate manned by 20 men in power armor. On the walls, several mounted rotary canons aimed down, ready to open fire immediately. Small blue particles danced in the air. Tishomingo had MN particle-powered defenses.

 

The inspection was quick and thorough. Coming in with 25 werewolf skins ready to be processed almost made us VIPs. We weren’t rushed through security, but there were no hangups or second glances except at our haul.

 

Werewolves were nasty pieces of work that preyed on farms and settlements outside the protected walls of cities. When Father left, they were a real problem, and we had to set up special seals that targeted them specifically. Once, we left for town, and one made it past our fence and killed every animal on our farm. That’s when I first got into gunsmithing. With a 3D printer and a dream, I crafted my Ts off a blueprint I bought online.

 

Once inside, the city opened up with cars passing through the streets, mostly taxiing people from place to place. Military carriers were needed to safely travel outside the city with any hope of surviving. Civilian cars were mainly used in cities. The rich had the Musk Ultras, Super Smiths, and the blue and orange Optimus Prime convertible. I saw a boxy 2781 Optimus Super, and from the sound of it still had its old nuclear engine. A gentleman with 12 pointy-eared escorts clinging to him in the back seat parked near one of the better Casinos in town. The AI driver was as sharp as when installed off the assembly line.

 

“Do you want me to glamour him into being our sugar daddy tonight?” Ember whispered huskily in my ear.

 

She was positively evil, and I liked it.

 

“No, but do you want me to beat him until he agrees to be our sugar daddy for the night,” I said.

 

“Oh yes, I would love to see you punch that smug man until he breaks. But I believe we are trying to go unnoticed.” Ember said.

 

“No one will say a word, I assure you,” I said.

 

They probably wouldn’t in these towns; people despised the rich. For someone poor wanting to one day be rich, I couldn’t understand their hate.

 

“Let’s get some money, then let's explore the escorts. We have bars to visit and women to liquor up.” I said.

 

We entered a massive cathedral in the middle of town, and Ember didn’t flinch. She smiled at me, revealing perfectly flat teeth with no edge. I dragged in our skins until we reached the mutant trade desk.

 

A green-haired elf girl with thick glasses, a line of gold earrings in her ears, and massive breasts smiled at me.

 

“Hey, my name is Olympias. I’m a lvl20 mage assigned to purchase mutant parts as penance for my piercings. Look at how sorry I am.” Olympias said.

 

In her brown eyes, I saw the boredom only working at a service desk can bring. This was bad; she was bored enough to be nosy and look too much into my business.

 

“Look, lady, how much can I get for the furs,” I said.

 

“You sure have a lot of them, and that cutting you must have some experience. I’ve never seen cuts on such tough hide so clean. Did you waste the holy blade spell on cutting hide? It’s your mana unless you’re a believer in the orthodox, so you should run now before Father Gustov gets here.”

 

“What is this creature here to tempt me from the lord, my father?” A tall blonde man with too wide a grin said as he approached.