Chapter 38 - The Queen's Awakening

Near Gazier’s Location

A distant explosion rocked the street as part of a building facade blew outward, sending Gazier hurtling through the air. His body smashed through the wide glass windows of the adjacent structure, shards raining down around him. He crashed onto the floor inside, momentarily disoriented, only to roll to his feet in one fluid motion. Three armored soldiers appeared in pursuit, gliding seamlessly across the gap using ethereal wingsuits generated by their core-powered suits. The wingsuits shimmered, then faded away upon their landing.

They quickly surrounded Gazier, forming a tight perimeter. One soldier—their leader—slung a rifle from his back and pointed it straight at him, the others following suit.

“WHERE ARE THEY?” the leader barked.

Raising his hands, Gazier attempted a calm smile. “I’m not sure what you’re rambling about. We could talk this out like civilized men, yeah?”

The soldiers closed in, making sure he had no avenue of escape. There was a frustrated edge in the leader’s voice. “I lost men tracking them down. DON’T FUCK WITH ME. I heard you last night—your men were supposed to lead us astray. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

Gazier’s eyes flicked between their drawn rifles and the jagged hole he’d just flown through. “Look, I could’ve let you die back there. Why not call it even and—”

Before he could finish, a soldier thrust his rifle’s bayonet into Gazier’s back, the blade slick with fresh blood as it pulled free. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Gazier yanked the rifle closer, forcing the blade to cut deeper into his own flesh. The soldier stumbled in surprise, and Gazier looped an arm around his neck in an attempt to snap it. But the suit’s core discharged a violent shockwave, launching Gazier backward through the shattered window.

Below, On the Streets

Gazier slammed into a tattered store awning, which collapsed under his weight, somewhat cushioning his fall. He tumbled onto the pavement, dazed, his vision spinning with pinpricks of light. A chorus of low moans and screeches snapped him back to reality. He blinked, taking in a swarm of infected humans lurching forward—each disfigured by twisted tree-like branches growing from their bodies. Their hungry stares latched onto him, greenish veins pulsing at the promise of fresh blood.

Ignoring the dizziness, Gazier stumbled to his feet and sprinted in the opposite direction. Overhead, the three soldiers bounded across rooftops, hoping to corner him again—they still needed whatever intel he’d withheld, and they wouldn’t let him be devoured by the infected first.

Suddenly, Gazier’s foot squelched onto a tiny worm, crushing it in a single step. Like a macabre signal, the distant shrieks of rotvyrms erupted. A monstrous shape reared up behind the nearby buildings—a worm-like queen of colossal proportions, her bark-like hide lined with dozens of sickly green eyes. Jagged teeth formed a circular maw, and deep within her gullet shone a pulsating emerald glow. As she unleashed a thunderous wail, more rotvyrms erupted from the streets, each large enough to swallow a person whole.

The queen dove from above, slithering across broken rooftops in pursuit of Gazier and the soldiers, while smaller rotvyrms rampaged after them. The infected humans were either trampled or devoured, adding to the rotvyrms’ immense mass.

One smaller rotvyrm sprang at Gazier from behind, ready to clamp its jaws around him. A surge of flame roared from the side, obliterating the creature mid-lunge.

“Keep moving—I’ll handle it!” shouted Evee. Gazier glanced back to see her cloaked in fire, charging into the horde of infected and rotvyrms. She ignited them with intense heat, not incinerating them completely but transforming them into infernal slaves under her command. Meanwhile, sporadic flashes cut across the skyline: seers leaping between rooftops, each face drawn with terror. Yet they pressed on, bound by orders they couldn’t refuse—their soul brands glowed in protest.

Gazier found himself stuck at a dead-end alley—far from the chaos, but not far enough from the pursuing soldiers. They leapt down from a crumbling wall, weapons ready, blocking his escape.

Gunshots and a New Arrival

Bang!

A single shot rang out from an unseen sniper’s vantage. One soldier’s head snapped forward, blood spraying as his body slumped to the ground.

Click… Bang!

A second shot fired before the remaining soldiers could react—another fell, armor punctured cleanly through the heart. Shock rippled through the third, who landed heavily between Gazier and the distant shape of the shooter. He whirled, rifle raised—only to see Emily striding into the clearing.

He fired three panicked bursts, but Emily evaded each round, her limbs moving with an eerie precognition. Her eyes gleamed in a lurid red, the same crimson that once sparked in Hound’s reanimated body.

**Such are the benefits of owning a Hellhound—**a master-slave contract, a deal struck with darkness. Even a fleeting five-second glimpse into the future was more than enough to ensure survival.

The soldier’s mind raced; he squeezed the trigger once more—aimed directly at Emily’s forehead. She didn’t flinch. Click. Nothing. The weapon jammed. Fear contorted his features as Emily slowly redirected his gun until it pointed at his own temple.

She smirked, stalling deliberately so he would understand the finality of his fate. He fumbled, desperately trying to clear the jam.

BANG!

A short, vicious crack shattered the silence.