[409] 5.33 Assault on Bouvet II

I waste no time in attacking the masked figure.  She, or they— whoever, I don’t give a damn— doesn’t so much as flinch as my swordstaff stabs through the air, through their cloak, and into the surprisingly hard and brittle internals of a body which is even more robotic than my own.  I retract my weapon from the flesh of oil and copper, expecting the robotic body to crumple over.  It doesn’t so much as flinch.

Undeterred, I cut off the being’s head.  I cleave through cloak and mask and steel all, and drop the head of this madwoman onto the ground where it belongs, then I leap forward and stomp the sole of my boot into its oily flesh and banish it from this world.  But there is no kill notification, and the presence that surrounds this room does not fade.

“That was hardly called for, Seraphina.”  Oh great, this one’s smarmy, not just regular irritating.  The voice comes from behind me.

I twist around to find one of the other robots who had previously ignored me aiming straight for my head with a punch.  I headbutt the attack away, then kick the android right in the groin out of a girl’s instinct before cleaving it in twain horizontally at the waist.  Head and torso both roll, but the presence does not relent.

“I would have thought, given the circumstances, that you would have realized the futility of such efforts.”  The words come from the broken body on the floor.  “However, I am not without mercy or magnanimity.  Surrender to me here, and your life will be spared.  I will even spare the lives of your friends and provide them safe passage.”

I stab the robot in the chest, taking aim at the soundbox right above where a person’s heart would be.  “You don’t think me so naive as to believe you.  Not even a minute after you said that you, and I quote, ‘could not guarantee their safety’.”

More condescending laughter, this time coming from hundreds of robots throughout the room.  The room shifts.  The computers and cubicles descend into the floor, leaving only me surrounded by a robotic army of thousands.  Before, in the fields outside of Antwerp, I had thought them mere automatons.  Now, I wonder if perhaps all of them had been controlled by a person whose power I am only now catching the first true glimpses of.

I’m being toyed with, and I don’t like it.  The robots attack me one after another with simple attacks.  Just basic martial arts, punches and kicks that are quick by most standards but which are laughably easy for my eyes to track and no challenge to intercept and counterattack.  Black oil smudges my shelled armor, dripping off as the bits of copper wires and ceramic shells fall to the ground at my feet.

“Well done, Seraphina.”  Several of the robots have the indignity to slow-clap for me.  “Now that the warm-ups are concluded, shall we actually begin in earnest?”

The robots, previously content to attack alone or in pairs, now form regimented groups.  Simple metal spears appear in their arms as they attack me in groups of four-to-six.  Others conjure more of those [Simple Ray Blasters] that I found earlier and begin shooting at me.  None of the attacks damage me much, but their speed and frequency mean that I am unable to dodge or block all of them.  My [Cloister] absorbs the blows, but its strength is deteriorating more quickly than I would like.

I throw out a [Lightning]-type [Elemental Ether Strike].  Sparks fly as the electrical surge erupts out from my right palm and into the crowd of androids still blasting upon me.  Hundreds short circuit and a few more even spontaneously combust as the electrical discharge ignites and explodes their oily blood.  But more drones appear out of the walls and descend from the ceiling to replace the scrap being sent down beneath the floor.

I shoot another [Elemental Ether Strike], this time of [Fire] and empowered by my [Crimson Heart] with the intent to melt as much as I can.  Yet more machines are melted down in my outburst, but even when I shift from fire into [Infernal Element Manipulation] and then conjure an [Infernal Doppelgänger] to assist my dismantling, there are still more.

“Very good, Seraphina!  Very good indeed!”  Because apparently I need a little condescension with my battle.  “But enough of fighting just these base drones, Seraphina!  I know you aren’t challenged just by this!  So let us make this confrontation a little more interesting!”

I roll my eyes.  These theatrics…  I mean, a few years ago, I spoke that way, and I am looking back on myself with shame for it.  For an honest-to-goddess adult to talk like some childish anime protagonist.  Well, this guy has less shame than I do, and I’m not sure if I am ashamed for them vicariously or impressed by their lack of fucks to give.  The giant tank-shaped behemoth that thuds down on the floor interrupts that particular train of thought.

This is going absolutely nowhere.  Not a single point of Experience has been accrued and the only progress being made is my [Ether] dropping considerably and my [Cloister] losing half its strength.  So I rush back out the door from whence I came and prepare for a teleport back to where Chloe and Lindsey are still fighting in the deep ocean below.

In the instant before I make the jump, there’s a sudden shift in the flow of ambient Ether.  My [Veilsight] momentarily distorts, and I can no longer make out Chloe’s presence or position as clear as I once was able.  I pull my [Depth Suit] out once more and suit it up automatically through the System in the moments before I prepare to jump.

Leaping through subspace, I encounter a momentary bit of resistance like trying to walk through a sheet of plastic wrap.  The boundary briefly distends, giving a pair of pursuing drones a brief window in which to graze my calves with their [Simple Ray Blasters] before I dive into subspace and return to the Antarctic depths underneath this damned factory-slash-fortress.

Things aren’t any better down here.  While I was facing humanoid robots up in the lab, down here, Chloe and Lindsey are fighting through mechanical sharks by the hundreds.  Much like was the case for me back on the surface, each creature individually is no threat.  In tandem with smaller piranha-shaped menaces nipping at our noses and heels and everywhere else they swarm in to steal a bite, they manage to score the occasional hit.

However, with the three of us working together, each of us covering for the other two, we manage to formulate a defensive formation that is currently holding without more than a negligible loss of [Health] or [Ether] beyond our normal regeneration rates.

That does not last.  Ms. Fawkes’ voice echoes throughout a series of intercoms built behind the metallic walls of this undersea cavern.  “I am impressed that the three of you have held out for this long.”

They continue to aggrandize themself in that same condescending attitude like they’re the one in full control and the three of us are just dancing to her puppet strings.  It infuriates me, and I don’t waste anymore time listening to her before I bring the three of us back into the base proper to actually make some motherfucking progress on getting this asshole sent back down to hell as they seem to be demanding underneath those words.

“Wonderful, Seraphina.  Simply astounding.”  The robots standing all around stop.  “The three of you are worthy foes indeed.  Perhaps, if I were so inclined, I might even be convinced to come play with you myself.”  The voice pauses.  “I just had a wonderful idea.  Why don’t we play a little game?”

There is no pause for any of us to ask questions or raise objections before the voice continues from every wall, floor, and ceiling of the hundred-foot cubic room.  “Take a few minutes to prepare yourself before the first wave.”  Out of the floor emerges a timer set for five minutes.  “Once that hits zero, we will begin.”

The voice goes silent.  The robots in the room continue to stand motionless, as though frozen in time itself.  I take a [Mental Regeneration Potion].  Chloe and Lindsey follow suit, the former after restoring our [Cloisters] back to maximum capacity.

“Can you get us out of here?” Lindsey asks.

“Subspace is distorted in this facility.  I can get myself out of here without too much trouble.  I’m less certain about the two of you.  But even if we could escape–”

Lindsey doesn’t need me to finish that sentence.  “So it’s the deathtrap we know or the one waiting outside.  Hardly a good choice to be found.”

“We’ll win,” Chloe says.  Despite the situation, there’s not a shred of doubt in either her tone or her heart.  “We can’t brook any other outcome.”

“I’m with Chloe.  I’ve made it through every fight I’ve been in so far.  I don’t intend to fall here.”

“You know she’s still listening in, right?” Lindsey says.

“And?” I say.  “She or they or whoever is acting like a petulant, immature teenager.  One fixated on games and rules.  As long as we play along, I don’t expect she plans to break the rules just yet.”

“I admire your sense of youthful optimism, Seraphina,” Lindsey says.  “If only I could share the same.”

“I don’t care either way.”  Chloe conjures her blades, [Lumen] and [Aria], holding the former with her right hand in a traditional grip and the latter in her left in a reverse grip.  Both are coated in a thin shimmer of celestial light as she surveys the surroundings.

All three of us look at each other.  We’re all ready to begin, though we wait for the remainder of the countdown to tick to give each of us a chance to make any last minute preparations.  I give Chloe my [Ring of Replenishing Recoil] for this fight.

She gives me an odd look.  “Shouldn’t you wear this?”

“You’re the only one of us with any healing spells.  As long as you can keep your [Ether] high, you can heal all of our [Health].  I suspect this will improve our long-term survivability by a factor of five to ten.”

“Fine.  Just don’t…”  For a moment, her emotional suppression Skill wavers.  Then it returns in full.  “We won’t fall here, Sera.”

“No, we won’t.”

The timer ticks down to zero.  All of the robots activate, pointing their guns at us.  I ready to strike, but just before I do, the intercom blares, freezing me in my tracks.

“Ah ah ah, Seraphina, Chloe, Lindsey.  It wouldn’t be fair if we got started without first explaining the rules first.  They’re really quite simple.  I will throw a sequence of increasingly more powerful soldiers at you.  Defeat them all, and I will send another to face you.  Because I’m feeling particularly generous, I’ll even give you a few moments between each round to take a couple of potions, catch your breath, formulate your strategy.  Win ten rounds in a row, and I’ll face you myself.  Fail, and…  Well, you die.  Any questions?  No?  Good, then let us begin.”

The first wave is just the drones.  Five thousand of them to be exact.  Surely there has to be some sort of a trap, a gimmick, some sleight of mind or hand to make this into an actual challenge and not just a glorified waste of time.

Lindsey’s arrows each impact their cybernetic heads with enough force to shatter them and the next three beyond.  I spin in a frenetic blaze, coating my swordstaff in a rage of crimson flame to cut through the hordes.

And, in spite of my training, I cannot help but be enraptured as Chloe demonstrates the newest Skill she gained as a nascent [Lady of Blades], the [Blade Dance].  Her movement is entranced, her dodges as elegant as they are precise.  Never does she stop, every strike flowing seamlessly into the next in a rhythmic series of thrusts and spins and cutting edges.

It takes only three minutes before the entire horde is reduced to scrap.  None of us are fatigued, though I’ve expended a small amount of [Ether] from a couple of [Repulsion] spells during the worst of it at the beginning.

“Well done.”  And shut the fuck up already, Ms. Fawkes.  I liked my dungeons without a snarkbot, please and go fuck yourself.  “Though I was expecting you to finish ten seconds faster.  Anyway, you have completed the warm-up, so let’s move on to round two!”