“No.” Hayes leveled his handgun in Victor’s direction. “But I know I can’t stand any more of this bullshit. You’re behind the Aberration? That means you killed Lurch. Chen, Ariki, Charlie. Now it’s my turn.”
Guy hissed. “No, Hayes, don’t—”
Hayes opened fire. Victor jerked back with every shot, but gave no other indication he even felt the wounds that tore apart his shriveled flesh. His teeth flashed in a snarling grin, his arms spread wide as if inviting the pain.
The chamber came alive. The bioroids that had been silently working in the background snapped into action, streaming toward the trio like living shadows. Michael lifted his rifle and fired in sparse bursts, standing back to back with Guy and Hayes. The sound of gunfire was barely audible, muted by the sizzling cord of energy that blazed from the tower behind them. The deafening thrum was a voltaic soundtrack to the desperate battle.
Guy yelled in Michael’s ear. “We have to set off the nuke. It’s our only chance.”
Michael nodded, trying to find Victor in the rush of attacking bodies. The gaunt giant vanished, moving so fast that Michael only saw the flash of his yellow eyes streaking in a zigzag pattern among the bioroids. One second he was yards away, the next he was there, hoisting Hayes into the air with the greatest of ease. For a frozen moment he held Hayes like a monstrous priest offering a sacrifice to some bloodthirsty god. Hayes had no time to react. He could only widen his eyes when recognition dawned.
Michael tried to turn, aiming his rifle. “No, wait. Stop!”
His words fell on deaf ears. Victor yanked down with the same inhuman speed, slamming Hayes’ body against his upraised knee like a brittle piece of kindling. The sound of Hayes’ back shattering seemed to be the only sound in the world. A shuddering gasp escaped from his lips, his eyes filmed over as his body went limp, sliding to the floor and folding over like a discarded piece of luggage.
Victor took the point-blank barrage of gunfire from Michael’s rifle with a twisted grin before swatting the gun away with a casual swipe of his gnarled hand.
Bioroids seized Michael, pulled him away from Guy and Victor, who stood facing one another like a contemporary David and Goliath. Michael fought against the relentless hands, yanking himself away long enough to snatch his handgun from his leg holster. He whirled, firing repeatedly in a circle. For every bioroid that soundlessly fell, another took his place. It was hopeless, only a matter of seconds before he was overwhelmed.
He risked a glance at Guy, who seemed to have run out of ammo. A long Bowie knife flashed in his hand. Victor’s arm severed at the elbow, dry and bloodless. He seized Guy’s arm with his good hand, snapping bones like twigs. The knife took forever to hit the floor. Victor’s grin was frozen, his eyes flashing as he slammed his head into Guy’s face over and over with bone-crunching force.
The tower sizzled with a surge of voltaic energy. Michael winced, staggering as his skin tingled, head pounding as though something inside was trying to beat its way out. His fists clenched, the nails digging into his palms. A voice rumbled from somewhere in the mental storm, ancient and powerful.
You will kill them all.
He roared as he was swarmed, pummeled by merciless fists. The bioroids were unarmed, but they were seemingly endless, piling on top of one another to bring him to his knees.
In the background he heard Guy’s screams mingle with Victor’s laughter.
Fire exploded in Michael’s head, seared in his lungs. His teeth gritted as the blows fell heedless on his head and shoulders. He felt no pain. Pain didn’t exist in the void. He was the chamber. He was the tower.
He was the power.
Something pulsed from deep within. It exploded from him as a physical force, flashing across the chamber in mirage waves of warped light. The bioroids were flung away, broken toys floating across the chamber with exaggerated slowness as though gravity had been snatched from the room.
Michael’s bones were coated with dry ice, skin blazing with withering heat. His vision flashed in rippling shades of violet. He turned to Victor, who stood over something that once had been a man.
Michael roared. The force in his mind lashed out, seizing Victor, lifting him into the air as though weightless. Michael hurled him across the room, impaling the monster on a thick antenna protruding from a towering platform. The wires around Victor came alive, descending on him like serpents, snarling him in a Gordian entanglement that even his great strength couldn’t repel. He jerked spasmodically before finally sagging in defeat.
Head throbbing, Michael turned to the nuclear device. His vision blurred, the room grew hazy. It didn’t matter. He was the power. The device flashed on, the timer starting its rundown. The switch activated, sending the nuke shuttling down the spout that would take it deep into the ocean depths, to the tear in reality’s fabric that had its fingers sunk deep in Michael’s mind.
The rush was too much. Michael felt it slipping away, draining with merciless speed. He was left a shuddering wreck of meat and bone, weak and pitiful in the wake of his earlier magnificence. The chamber spun around him, blurring flickers of electric eyes and metallic towers. He gave an inarticulate cry and crumpled to the floor.
Thrum.
Thrum.
Thrum.
His eyes blinked open. He tried to focus, unsure of where he was for a moment. Not knowing how long he’d been there. The tower pulsed like a thermionic heartbeat, blazing in purple-white flashes. The chamber blushed with lavender glimmers of swimming light. Indistinct flecks hovered in the air, photoelectric butterflies fluttering in a cybernetic forest.
It was beautiful.
“Michael.”
Guy’s voice was a faint whisper from a thousand miles away. Michael slowly pushed himself up, wiped the blood that trickled from his nostrils and dripped from his chin. He looked the direction of the voice. A choking cry escaped from his lips, and he shut his eyes to erase the sight.
Guy had been torn in half.
“Michael.”
He shook his head. “No. It can’t happen like this. Not like this…”
“It’s… okay, Michael.” Guy’s voice shuddered as though it took all his effort to speak. “Don’t look… at what he did… to me. Look… at me. At me.”
Michael opened his eyes. Tears blurred his vision, and for once he was grateful. The hunks of spilled flesh were barely visible, though the smell of death was rank in his nostrils. He dragged himself over, focusing only on Guy’s face. Only on his plain and ordinary face.
Guy’s skin was waxen. His lips trembled in a smile. “I didn’t… tell you. About what I’ve… seen.”
“You told me, Guy. Don’t try to talk. You don’t—”
“No.” Guy’s eyes quivered, the light fading even as he spoke. “The Gestalt… is wrong. There is… still something worth… fighting for. I’ve seen it. The everyday miracles that we take… for granted. The bonds that… connect us, hold us together. They’re… worth it. Worth every bitter second, every… beautiful moment.”
His hand clutched Michael’s, squeezing painfully. “Worth… dying for.”
The room exploded with blazing light. Tentacles of purplish energy forked across the chamber. The entire structure rocked, seismic shudders rippled across the room. Cables swung like vines in a tsunami, consoles and guardrails wrenched free and toppled in a metallic shower, shattering against the metallic floor.
Guy’s gaze reflected the luminosity, his irises glowing with purple light. His bloody lips parted for the faintest of whispers. “Non omnis moriar…”