Revelation (M/F) (F/M) - A sequel to Devastation

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wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

Flight Commander Galen settles in her seat and runs a final check of her instruments. “This bird was not designed to fly at this altitude, I have no idea how we are still flying straight and true.“

The aircraft rattles alarmingly and various alarms are sounding and flashing. The aircrew in the back of the broadsword shaped bomber, all shift nervous in their seats hearing the klaxons and alarms from the cockpit.

Galen lets her crew sweat a few moments more, before she adjusts the power going to the kinetic field generators and lets out the breath she seems to have been holding since takeoff. “This might be OK. Power output holding steady and course is stable.”

She takes a moment to appreciate the view of the whole of Atlantis laid out before her in the distance. “It really is beautiful up here. This is the best office in all the world’s.”

The display in front of her, shows all of the aircraft in this formation, swept back into a perfect chevron, streaking across the skies.

A light on the command console turns red and she nods to herself. “This is it.” She thinks, pressing the button that empties the thousands of tonnes of ordinance from the bomb bay, at the same time as every aircraft in her formation is as that moment.

With a hint of relief she drops her airspeed and altitude already thinking of drinks at the officers bar.




A lone Annunakin stands atop a cliff looking out to sea. Its grey chitin, blends perfectly into the rock as it lays in wait. It rests back on its four hind legs, whilst it’s chest is raised up arms reaching for the sky as it basks. Compound eyes catch a glint just above the water, moving in fast. It grinds its rear feet together with a rasping screech which wakes its brethren.

Across the five mile wide island of Daemos, the ground appears to churn as the tens of thousands of Annunakin, begin to move.

On powerful legs, the horde surges forward like a herd of insectoid bulls, charging towards the incoming craft, bringing their next meal. Their fanged maws wide, screaming and chittering.

The dozen heavily armoured landing craft touch down in the heart of a baying, chittering and screeching mass of otherworldly predators.

The creatures climb over each other to slash at the sides of the craft with two foot long talons. The air is filled with frenzied screech of claws on steel, thunderous charging beasts and mindless howls on the wind.

Creatures fly back off of the craft, as their hulls are electrified with a thunderous crackle of electricity. Meanwhile, silent panels slide back revealing autonomous guns, to blaze away at the ever charging tsunami of death.



One creature at the edge of Daemos’s central plain, far from the centre of the chaos unfolding at its heart, looks skyward hearing a low whistle, it turns to signal its brethren but it is already too late.

A geyser of fire and molten Orichalcum erupts on the far edge of the plain, tearing all Annunakin nearby apart and showering all around with metal and their fallen comrades body parts.

Those creatures nearby turn away to run, only to be greeted by more geysers and the bombs begin to fall en masse.

If viewed from above, the plain seems to burst into flames, with a relative few pockets of unburnt earth.




On cue, every aircraft in Atlantis takes off and glides across the water towards Daemos. Before the dust has settled on the island, it is surrounded by a floating ring of steel.

On the military transports the cargo bay doors open, whilst on the civilian craft any door facing the island is opened. Within each craft in the ring, soldiers are in position, rifles raised and poised.

The aircraft are held in position by powerful ion thrusters, locking them in position, providing a stable platform for everyone aboard.

Across the fleet of craft radios squawk in unison, signalling the soldiers aboard to fire at will.

Off shore and elevated, it is like shooting fish in a barrel. The surviving Annunakin explode, when volley after volley of shots savagely tear into those that remain standing.

Less than an hour after the remote piloted landing craft touched down, the island is a grave. Those that made it to the safety of the caves are barely a percentage of those who charged on the plains.

A chill wind blows across the plain, carrying dust, smoke and the stench of death. Nothing moves above ground. The only sound, is the keening of the wind, mournfully howling, like a widow’s lament.



Nikita shudders slightly at the spectacle of such death and destruction. “It’s over. At least for now.” She thinks lighting a cigarette and inhaling shakily.

She scrutinises the remaining lifepulses on the island, finding it easier to see them now that the number of creatures is so greatly reduced. “Their life pulses are not like ours.” She thinks, detached.

Terrestrial lifepulses are shades of yellow, even for Atlanteans and human Annunakin like Nikita and her sisters. However, the otherworldly creatures on the island all have emerald green lifepulses.

“Injuries show as marks in the lifepulse, as they do with us. They are obviously not from earth, but they may not be as different from us as they appear.” She muses, idly before she frowns.

“That said, there is something different.” She focuses in on one of the creatures as much as she can. “Their seat of consciousness is empty. They are not self aware, at best they are drones like bees and ants. It may even be that something is controlling them.”

She is pulled from her ruminations, by a hand placed gently on her bare shoulder.



“We did it.” The King says, almost shocked by the outcome of the engagement, “We have quelled the threat with no Atlantean casualties. It was worth staying up all night, buttoning down the details.”

Nikita smiles up at him and nods, collecting herself as he continues, “It was a crazy plan, but against all odds it worked and you are a national hero. ”

Her eyes widen at this, “No, your majesty, this victory was down to the skill of your soldiers and pilots. Not to mention your call to arms to the people to lend their ceaft to the mission. I just had a few ideas.”

“No Nikita, this is not a time for false modesty. In our hour of need, you showed us the path to victory.” The King says, earnestly.

“I just looked at things differently.” She says, stubbing out her cigarette.

“You saw, what we needed to see.” The King says, thoughtfully, “We need someone like you.” He hesitates for a moment, “I need someone like you by my side.“

Nikita looks up at him almost nervously, “Your Highness?”

“Once everything calms down, I would like to talk to you about becoming my tactical advisor.” He says, keeping his voice low.

Nikita sits agape, unable to answer him. Taking her silence as surprise, he apologises, “I am sorry if this is unexpected, but even in the short time I have known you, I have come to value your counsel. You are not afraid to tell me the truth, not just what you think I need to hear. Everyone else bows and scrapes. Telling me how great I am. Feeding my ego. Pursuing their own agendas. However, despite everything, you have been straight with me.”

“I am flattered Your Highness. I would need to consider the position before I could accept.” Nikita says, thinking, “Don’t be stupid Niki, you are a combat trained hair stylist, he only wants you for your tactical expertise, however much you might want something else.”




Early evening, later that day.

King Halpron of Atlantis, stands resplendent in ceremonial uniform on the podium before the cameras. To his right, his generals and viziers. To his left High Priestess Angela of the Phlogiston Order and Nikita in the purple and black Nirvana operations uniform, standing at ease with her hands behind her.

The King draws a slow breath before he begins his address, “People of Atlantis, I speak to you today following a great victory for our forces, over the otherworldly forces that would destroy us.”

He places his hands on the edges of the podium, “A horde of massive size was gathering on Daemos. A force of such size that had we not acted decisively, we would have faced our destruction.”

“Steady, don’t paint to bleak a picture.” He thinks, before continuing, “However, act we did. Not as an army, but as a nation united. To our brave pilots, we salute you.” He changes his tone, steadily raising his voice, with each word, “To our brave soldiers, we salute you. To every civilian volunteer, who stepped up to do your part, we salute you.”

He pauses, to allow the echo of his voice to fade, then continues with passion and power in his voice, “We. Won. Together. That is our strength. We have won the battle. The war will rage on, but we will continue to fight and defend our birthright and the planet of our birth from the other worldly Annunakin who would do us harm.”

“We will change the structure of our forces to become more responsive. We will change the way we monitor Daemos, to prevent large scale build ups. We will protect all we hold dear and we will find a new greatness.” He pledges, earnestly, “We will secure new resources to make philosophers stones and defend ourselves. We will seek out new ideas and strategies, to enhance our manufacturing and food production. We will protect the lives of all who call Atlantis home and usher in a new era of safety.”

He slows his flow, taking a more measured and even tone, “My father had a vision for a peace in our time. Sadly, he was not able to see this age come to pass in his lifetime, but together, we can see it in ours. A new age is coming. An age of prosperity and peace for all. We must be ready to face this future and do whatever it takes to see this dream become real.” The King is in full flow again as he blasts on, “This is our time. This is our moment in history. The moment our children and our children’s children look back and say ‘This was when the new age began.”




The Grand Ballroom, Royal Palace of Atlantis.

The King glides around the room, meeting and greeting the attendees, taking their praise for his speech and vision for the future.

Behind his smile is a need for validation and an ocean of self doubt. All night he subtly scans the crowd for the one person other than his sister who will be straight with him.

Angela stays close, presenting a united front between the order and the Monarchy. When the conversation gets too heavy, she expertly extricates him and they move on.

“Where’s Nikita?” He asks, under his breath in the void between the endless parade of sycophants.

“She said that this is not her type of thing and wanted a quiet evening to take everything in.” Angela says, quietly.

“I hope this is not too much for her. The feeling in my gut is that we need her.” He confides, with a whisper.

“I agree. We have enough material from her blood to build a city of pure Orichalcum. If she would allow us to have one or even two more sessions, we would be set for a decade.”

“This is not just about that. She is a trained soldier with a wealth of experience. She could help us rebuild our approach from the ground up.” He says, thoughtfully, “We need her.”

Angela smiles at him and scrunched up her nose, “We. Or you?”

“What do you mean?” Halpron asks, getting a little hot under the collar.

“It’s OK. I have seen the way you look at her.” She says, with a smile.

“What do you mean, the way I look at her?” Halpron protests.

“Oh come on. You look at her as if she is the first woman you have ever seen.” Angela whispers back.

“No I don’t. Do I?” He asks suspecting the answer.

Angela nods, “You know you do.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” The King says, defensively.

“She is a very smart and beautiful woman. Where others see her as an outsider, you and I see her for who she is.” Angela gives a million watt smile and continues, “You have nothing to be ashamed of if she has turned your head.”

“There is just something about her. On the one hand she is wild and untameable and yet, at the same time she is thoughtful and focused. She is indeed remarkable.” Halpron says, with a tilt of his head. “That said, I do not wish to do anything to jeopardise her continued help.”



Halpron turns his attention to the approaching cadre of Generals and other military dignitaries, greeting them with a warm smile, “Excellent work today, one and all, your soldiers performed beyond the call of duty today.”

General Cassius grins back, “You gave us orders which made history. For the first time ever, we repelled a superior force without a single casualty.”, he says warmly and raises his glass.

“The plan may have been mine, but the execution was yours.” Halpron says, shaking his hand. “I must admit, I had some help.”

“Ah yes. I have heard tell of a mysterious earthborn Annunakin, I and the other pillars are curious to meet her and thank her for her contributions.” Cassius says, know

“I am sure you all will meet her soon enough.” Halpron says, with a smile.

The back and forth of mutual appreciation flows like gentle ripples, between two shores until Angela turns him aside and guides him across the room.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
GreyLord
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Post by GreyLord »

[mention]wolfman[/mention], this was an incredible, powerful chapter. I feel the need to say something profound but I know that I am not a profound person. All I can do is to compare you to the writer that I have always considered the greatest of the great, E. E. "Doc" Smith. I discovered Doc Smith in the early 50's when I was a teenager. His Lensman series resonated with me and I have measured all science fiction that I have read since to his works. Some, today, might call his writing adolescent or immature. But there are layers in his writings that speak to the striving nature of humanity.

You, sir, have hit the mark. You have created a fantastic world based on the legends of Atlantis culminating with an epic battle. New challenges are ahead. Many kudos!
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

GreyLord wrote: 10 months ago @wolfman, this was an incredible, powerful chapter. I feel the need to say something profound but I know that I am not a profound person. All I can do is to compare you to the writer that I have always considered the greatest of the great, E. E. "Doc" Smith. I discovered Doc Smith in the early 50's when I was a teenager. His Lensman series resonated with me and I have measured all science fiction that I have read since to his works. Some, today, might call his writing adolescent or immature. But there are layers in his writings that speak to the striving nature of humanity.

You, sir, have hit the mark. You have created a fantastic world based on the legends of Atlantis culminating with an epic battle. New challenges are ahead. Many kudos!
What shall I say? Sometimes mere words are not enough. [mention]GreyLord[/mention] has said it all.
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wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention], your words humble me. I am familiar with his work and would never presume to even come close to its nuance and depth. I merely endeavour to create a tale where the reader goes on a journey and has fun on the way.

[mention]Caesar73[/mention], thank you for your kind words and continuous support on this journey.

And to all the uncommenting readers, it is my hope that you continue to follow this tale as it unfolds for we are far from done and Nikita's battles are far from over.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

The dagger shaped craft streaks across the water, keeping low enough to kick up a wake, but high enough to stay dry. Ducted fans in each wing can provide hover or forward thrust with a tilt of its wings.

The pilot and co-pilot sit up front, eyes on a swivel, surveying the sea and landscape like hawks, hunting prey. The communications officer, closely monitors the radar and comms traffic.

A four man security team, sit nervously, in the central cabin, ready at a moments notice.

By contrast the main cabin has a more relaxed air, with only three passengers, enjoying the view.




“That was a heck of a speech last night.” Nikita says, with a smile.

The King looks wearily back at her, “It seems to have energised everyone. I have a few ideas for the future, but nothing I would call a plan.”

“Sounds interesting.” Nikita says, reaching for her cigarettes and lighting one when the King gives a nod, “We have a little while before we get to Daemos. I am all ears.”

Halpron smiles back at her, and says, “I would appreciate that.” Whilst thinking, “I appreciate your outfit too.” He subtly takes in her appearance from her freely flowing black hair, to her blood red, halter neck, sleeveless, NAKI suit, hugging every curve, down to her heavy duty boots.

She blows a stream of smoke, down toward the floor, her eyes sparkle brightly as she speaks, “What have you got?”

Feeling nervous, he begins, “I think we should do more to prevent large scale build ups and have a better response in case of large scale exodus from the portal. I also think it might be wise to do a full sweep of Daemos and clear out all Annunakin, but out troops are not ready for it.”

Nikita watches Halpron as he speaks, thinking, “He looks good. In his ceremonial uniform and with that sword, he looks like an old school nobleman.”

She snaps herself out of her reverie, “Have you considered permanent aerial platforms? With a small compliment of troops and weapon emplacements, they could do the work of several units and would be able to respond to surges anywhere on Daemos.” Nikita says before taking another lungful of tobacco smoke.

“I like the sound of that, we have a few solar-powered ion craft, that could fit the bill. We could retrofit artillery and other heavy weapons, to lay down heavy fire and crew each platform with a mix of weapon specialists and sharpshooters.” He says, thoughtfully.

Angela sits back watching the exchange, with a small bit knowing smile, “The feeling is mutual, she seems to like him too. A part of me wishes that things were different for them both.” She relaxes back in her seat to enjoy the exchange.

“Maybe for times when there is a large scale deployment of Annunakin, there could be a more structured defence. What about naval bombardment from off of the coast? Do you have any large ships that could act in that capacity?” Nikita asks, blowing smoke towards the floor.

“Not really. We tend towards air power, with ships mainly used for cargo between the rings, we don’t have any in the seas around Daemos .” He says with a subtle shake of his head.

Nikita nods, with a squint and begins slowly, “OK, that is not an option. At least not a quick one. What about...” She pauses, gathering her thoughts, “What about a fleet of smaller aircraft? Maybe sky cycles or small cruisers, with gyrojet weapons and independent targeting. That way you could have rapid and flexible response and be able to laydown heavy firepower to support the on station platforms.”

“OK. Let’s say we do that, maybe also equip them with a heavy ordnance item. We would need a lot of them, but we could start rolling them out quickly.” He says, thinking of the options. “That might be workable. General Cassius certainly wont object.”

“Which takes care of build-up and sudden surges, but then there are those embedded in the caves leading down to the portal.” Nikita says, taking another lungful of smoke, exhaling as she speaks, “That is high risk and the gyrojet rifles will be a liability. The explosions might cause rock falls and the rate of fire is too slow to stop a close range charging group.”

“This is the problem, I cannot get past. The men all have sidearms but they are limited in their own fashion.” Halpron says, throwing his hands up.

“How familiar are you with military weapons from earth?” Nikita asks, considering the best weapons for close quarters combat.

“I know the basics, rifles, submachine guns, machine guns etc.” The King confirms.

Nikita nods, “Excellent. I am thinking submachine gun. Something compact, quick to produce, reliable and accurate up to say a hundred or so metres. But able to fire ten or more rounds a second.”

“Maybe. But it would have to be relatively small and there is the issue of ammunition.” He says, trying to be pragmatic.

“Well, what about modifying the sidearm your troops use. Trim some weight off of the slide, and switch the bolt and trigger group for one that allows full auto. Then switch out the barrel for one that’s a little longer, to improve muzzle velocity. Maybe add a built in recoil compensator. Fit it with a collapsible but sturdy stock and you are about there and can even use the same magazines.” Nikita says, thinking of how Carl might approach the problem.

With raised eyebrows, Halpron nods, “That could work. We could churn them out fast and begin training units on them within the week.”

“It might be handy if you could fit them with aiming torches or laser sights to aid rapid target acquisition at close quarters. I have a sample chest mounted snatch holster that you could use as a blueprint for carry.” She says, with a gentle smile. “Hell you could even mount a sturdy spike or bayonet for close quarters.”

“All this talk of guns and warfare, could make a girl hot under the collar.” Angela says, with a giggle. “All joking aside, you both work really well together.”

The three of them begin to laugh, when the pilot chirps over the intercom, “We are on approach. Thirty seconds to Daemos.”



The low but imposing cliffs, loom large in the path of the rapidly approaching craft. With effortless grace, the bird sweeps up gracefully clearing the rocks to soar over the central plains, with the many forces of buzzard and crow like birds, circling the carnage.

“Maintain altitude fifty metres up. I want to see the aftermath and the damage we have wrought.” Halpron orders, over the intercom.

“As you command, your majesty.” The pilot, squawks back.

“Cassius would have a fit if he found out we were doing an unescorted flight over Daemos.” Angela says with a smile. “Yesterday was a bloodbath, but there are still a few thousand down there.”

“He would not allow me on Garnos without a twenty strong escort due to its proximity to Daemos.” The King says, with a wink. “I want to see the aftermath of the battle before the bodies dissolve.”

The aircraft sweeps back and forth across the plain revealing the carnage below. Scorched earth and sand blasted to glass covers the landscape, with the shattered remnants of the their fallen foes still smoking in places. Until they come to a stop, near to a large tangle of bodies, near the centre of the plain.

“By the gods what hell did we unleash?” Halpron says, shaking his head in dismay.

“It’s one thing to give the order, but quite another to see the aftermath.” Nikita says, surveying the carnage, imagining the last moments of the creatures she sees.

“It was them, or us.” Angela says gently, feeling her brothers pain.

“That’s why I needed to see this.” The King says, in a sombre tone, “To rule, I must know the cost that is paid. Either by the citizens of Atlantis, or those we fight.”

“The truth is that if it were not these creatures, it would be the citizens of Atlantis and in time possibly even the world, that would pay the price.” Nikita says, softly.

Halpron nods sagely, staring at the field of bodies, for a moment, letting the point hang in the still of the cabin, before breaking the silence, “What must they have thought in their last moments?” He asks, unable to tear his eyes away.

“Probably nothing. They were not self aware.” Nikita says, absent mindedly, before explaining, “As part of what I can do, I am able to sense lifepulses and can see the seat of consciousness within those I see. These creatures didn’t have that.” She pauses, for a moment, “They are either being controlled and their free will suppressed, or part of a hive mind.”

Halpron glances at her, quizzically, “That is interesting. Our scientists has theorised this but it has never been confirmed.”

“I am not sure if this is a help or hindrance but.” Nikita starts before her eyes go wide, “Oh no.”




The flock of crow like birds wheel about the sky, weaving back and forth. Keen eyes seeking signs of the mice and other creatures that might sustain them, among the bodies of the extradimensional Annunakin. After so long aloft above the inedible blood and flesh, their bodies feel the need to rest.

Beneath them an odd looking rock hangs in the air invitingly. Across the murder of crows, a cacophony of rasping caws ascends to the heavens until first one, then many swoop down to take roost.

Nikita lunges for the intercom, as the first birds are sucked through the ducted fans holding them aloft. Too late, she cries, “Evasive manoeuvres.”

The pilot fights the controls in the moment she sees the warning light, indicating that the fan blades are damaged. The bird plummets from the air, signalling the pilots last broadcast, “Atlantis one to all units. Ditch. Ditch. Ditch. Location pulse attached.”

On Garnos the flight controller, hears the call and begins scrambling flights to assist.

Nikita splits her arms into tentacles and pins Halpron and Angela back in their seats, much to their shock. “Try to relax, as much as possible.”

The pilot and co-pilot stare in wide eyed horror, as the craft screams nose first towards the ground.

Atop a low hill a lone Annunakin watches the craft plummet to the ground. With a howl part way between a eagle’s cry and a bear’s roar, it charges on six powerful legs down the hill towards the source of it’s next meal.

Less than a minute later, it is no longer alone.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

Quite the cliffhanger at the end - this tale is truly intriguing. And it will we interesting where you will take us readers! Can Nikita save the day?
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wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

Indeed [mention]Caesar73[/mention] , will this be Nikita's last stand, or will she be able to defy the odds once more?
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

Nikita tears through the hull of the craft making a and guiding her companions out of the rear cabin. Barely pausing for breath she tears open the crew cabin to allow the soldiers to climb out of the wreck.

“We need to arm ourselves. The horde is coming.” Nikita says, feeling more than seeing the horde approach and trying to keep calm for everyone else.

“What about the aircrew? We should get them out of the craft.” Angela say, approaching the nose of the craft.

Nikita hangs her head sadly, “It is too late for them.”

Angela closes her eyes and says a silent prayer for them. The King casts his gaze about and summarises, “We are far from home, there is no cover and our enemies are closing in.” He snaps his focus to the soldiers readying their weapons, “Gentlemen, get on top of this craft, divide the field into sectors and cover your sector. Keep them as far back as we can for as long as we can. Help is coming, we just need to repel borders.”

To their credit, the soldiers spring into action without hesitation, with each offering their sidearm to Angela and Nikita, which Angela accepts and Nikita declines.

Angela pops the magazine from the weapon, to check it then slams it home and pulls back the slide smoothly. Halpron raises an eyebrow, to which Angela simply shrugs, “Priestess not pushover, I served in the Holplites before accepting my calling, remember?”

Halpron turns to Nikita and Angela and nods towards the roof of the craft, “We should get up there too.”

Nikita half smiles and already knows what she needs to do, “I’m not getting on the roof, I’m going to run interference, see if I can buy some time.”

“Don’t be foolish, Nikita. There are too many of them.” Halpron says, in disbelief.

“When the transport comes, if I am not back don’t wait.” Nikita says, turning away and starting to run.




The King’s calls fade on the wind as she runs. Anyone watching from the craft, would swear she is a mirage, when she splits into four versions of herself with each growing tentacles and chitinous armour. “I have so little left, but I will make a difference this day.” She solemnly, pledges.

Taking a chance and peeling left towards the thinnest part of the horde, she is gratified, when the rest change course to intercept her.

She skids to a halt some five hundred metres from the craft and decides, “This is as good a spot as any.”

Nikita waits calm and ready in four parts, back to back with each other. Tentacles ready, each sucker with a lion’s claw at its heart dripping venom that many be useless against the horde. Dermal carapace, covering her body in thick natural armour. Senses, strength, stamina and speed augmented.

In each form, the tentacles grasp two 5.56mm light machine guns, one on the left and one on the right, each weapon has a two hundred round belt and is primed for use.

She is of one body in four parts and she is at peace. “Simple plan, draw them away from the King and his sister, make a lot of noise, hold the line till help comes.” Nikita says to herself, taking in the massive number of Annunakin heading towards her.



Two hundred metres out, the horde roars as one as it approaches the loose circle Nikita has made. Nikita, Nikitwo, Nikithree and Nikifour throw their heads back and roar back in defiance.

This alone gives the horde pause, not halting their charge but slowing it. Nikita exhales slowly and whispers on the breeze, “Let the overture, begin.”

In unison, the guns bark into life, sending several lines of tracers to stitch across the leading edge of the approaching mass of roiling flesh. If the slow thump of the gyrojets being fired behind her is a drum beat, her barrage is a lunatic drum solo from a metal band storming the gates of hell. Nikita feels the life leave the bodies of the Annunaki, as they fall. “They at least can die by earth weapons. That’s something.”

Nikita crosses her firing arcs, creating several killing zones across the field, filled with withering firepower. As the mass of creatures is so packed together, there is no escape for those trapped with their imminent deaths, until, CLICK.

With a flourish, Nikita stores the machine guns away, but welcomes the feel of their replacements. Each of the four tentacles on the four versions of herself, wraps around the comforting weight of a Kalashnikov assault rifle. She smiles to herself. “I hope this works.”

In sequence each of her begins with a three round burst from each gun in turn. Some drop their targets, some miss wildly and as the first magazines empty, she realises, “This is not going to cut it. Need to slow them down a bit more.”

Flourishing fresh mags into the weapons, she aims low and empties each weapon, aiming low, cutting through the legs of the horde like a scythe cutting the front line down. Those behind stumble over the bodies of the fallen.

Nikita nods to herself, “Better.” And continues to unleash a storm of lead, with tongues of fire from each weapon. Until her ammunition reserve is expended for the weapons.

For a split second, she pauses, dismayed that she is barely making a dent in the ever advancing mass of Annunakin, “This is not going to work. There are too many of them.”

Galvanising herself into action, she plucks fresh weapons from her reserves. “Fuck it. The only way, is all the way.” She spits on the wind.

She launches grenade after grenade at the front lines. Fragmentation grenades, shred. White phosphorus grenades release incendiary projectiles. But to her surprise, it is the tear gas that is most effective, choking and killing the alien mob.

Without missing a beat, she brings out automatic shotguns, which create a wall of lead to devastate the mob baying for her blood. Where the other weapons cut the Annunakin down, the shotguns shred them, taking down wave after wave.

All too soon, they too are depleted and she is left with machine pistols. They hold up admirably, but are no match for the sheer weight of number which now surround her on all sides until they too run dry.

Leaving Nikita with only the natural weapons, she can bring to bear in her four forms.




They hold back waiting for the next weapon to emerge. When it doesn’t, they circle preparing to charge, rearing up on their four hind legs, presenting their wicked claws on their forelegs for attack. A lone Annunakin lunges forward.

As soon as it is within range, Nikita lashes out. With a flick of her tentacle, the creatures neck is ensnared and with a heave, it is decapitated.

The effect on the horde is electric, and they surge forward, to be decapitated by the dozen. With absolute focus Nikita in her many parts, becomes an abattoir. A place of death that all may enter, but none may leave.

Each part of her works like a machine, with the upper two tentacles dealing killing blows and the lower tentacles flinging bodies as far as she can.

Nikita focuses on the next strike, fearing that doing other wise will result in her demise.

“If I can just keep them occupied, the King and his sister can get away.” She repeats like a mantra, crushing the skull of an incoming attacker and deciding to change her tactics.

Each Nikita now lashes out with all four of her tentacles, pulverising the skulls of the horde, deciding, “This is more efficient. If the bodies build up, they can deal with them.”



Halpron watches agape at the fountains of blood and gore. With the viewfinder of one of the soldiers rifles, he sees the fountains of blood and the dead that Nikita leaves in her wake. With admiration he whispers into the wind, “She is magnificent.”

He turns to the soldiers, ordering. “Lay down suppressive fire, targeted ten metres away from the melee. Thin the numbers before they get to her.”

Like a well oiled machine the men redeploy and open fire, sending gyrojet rockets into the surging horde. Each explosion seems to create a vacuum in the mass, soon filled by others.



Nikita registers the change in the flow easing slightly and redoubled her efforts. Combat becomes a moving meditation. Lunge, wrap, squeeze, release. Lunge, wrap, squeeze.......

In the eye of the storm, Nikita feels the lifepulses around her, registering the ebb and flow of their energies in perfect harmony with each other. She smiles to herself, “The are a hive mind, but they fight like individual creatures.”

She feels a subtle change in the crowd, a greater sense of urgency, as the horde presses in and Annunakin begin climbing over each other to get to her.

With a ripple down each of her tentacles, their tips transform into three foot long pincers. “From four moves to just two, the rules change. Lunge. Snip. More efficient, same result. This works. But I don’t know how long I can keep this up, they really want me dead and I am burning out.” The cold realisation, gives her pause for a moment before she makes peace with her choices.

Dozens fall in the first minute of this new defence, until, the horde surges forward as one, washing over her. “Four of me, means I am burning through all I have quicker.” Nikita thinks and reforms into one and thrashes wildly, throwing her attackers several metres in the air with her full strength. “This is not my best plan, but it certainly is keeping them focused on me.” She thinks, trying to be brave, but knowing the end is nigh.

She pulls her tentacles to her chest and lashes out sending her foes flying so she can get back to her feet. With spiders eyes peppering her head, she sees all around her. Lashing out in front and behind until. “Dani if you decided to tag along unseen, now would be a really good time for you to lend a hand.” She says under her breath, with a tear in her eye.

Nikita lunges at a small Annunakin raking its chest from collar bone to what serves as its sternum. It flies back, flailing and somehow manages to catch her pincer wielding tentacle after impact and dig its claws into her flesh. A wave of agony sweeps through her body, unlike anything she has felt before, but she manages to throw it off and maintain her composure. However, this pain is enough to break her rhythm and the horde closes in. “Of all the times I have been hurt, this feels different. It both freezes and burns. It’s more intense than being flayed alive.”

With other-worldly poison coursing through her veins, her movements are less precise, but no less deadly to her foes. Her tentacles lash like clawed whips, rending carapace, flesh and bone alike. “It is like a toxin, but like nothing on earth, I can’t fight it. But if I take their resistance to it, I might become like them and if I don’t this could kill me.”

Nikita feels her strength sapped but feels a fire burn hot in her heart. With tears of rage and pain in her eyes, she screams, “Fuck you!!!! I am Nikita Green.” With the strength of the damned, she withdraws her tentacles and presents her arms, with lion claws for hands.

In her mind, she moves in slow motion, a right backfist detaches a jaw from an Annunakin. Her left claw, tears the throat out of another. A left claw pierces the heart of the next, then her right fist smashes the face of a fourth.

Empowered by the pain she stands tall. She ducks back from a clawed blow intent on raking her face and taking her eyes, only for a blow to slam into her back, unable to penetrate the NAKI suit.

She grunts in pain, ducking another blow only to rise and slam her fist under the insectiod chin of the nearest Annunakin. The creature sprawls back to be enveloped by the crowd, soon replaced by two more.

Nikita roars and then bellows, “Come on then, I will take all of you fuckers.” She smashes her fist down on to the top of a nearby creatures skull, ending its life.

Blow by blow she pushes into the crowd, as the sky goes dark and the poison in her veins burns every inch of her body. She fights for all she is worth, but the NAKI suit can only protect so much before it begins to tear. Her muscles can only resist the toxin so much before they start to tire.

Dimly, she is aware of gunfire behind her. The faint cracks and pops of handguns and gyrojets. In the distance she hears the faint whoosh of ducted fans, signalling the approach of an aircraft.

“Help is almost here. I have just got to but the King and the others a little more time.” Nikita thinks in desperation. With all her might she digs deep within herself and renews her attack on the horde. She smashes her fists and claws into those around her, heedless of the grievous wounds she has sustained. She fights against the pressing mass of her enemies, feeling it yield to her efforts, as they start to disperse.

Nikita leaps onto the back of a retreating Annunakin, plunging her claws into its neck and twisting. The beast collapses onto its side, trapping her leg under it. Sensing weakness the surrounding Annunakin descend, raining blows down upon her.

She hears the distant raise in pitch of the aircrafts rotors, and smiles to herself, “That is dust off. Everyone is safe. Just need to rest for a bit now.” Under the barrage of blows, she closes her eyes and allows herself to be still for just a moment.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

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Post by GreyLord »

Unbelievable suspense. The tension never stops building. When she has gone to the limit, then she goes some more. Kudos, [mention]wolfman[/mention]. Many kudos.
ImageA List of my stories:
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Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

GreyLord wrote: 10 months ago Unbelievable suspense. The tension never stops building. When she has gone to the limit, then she goes some more. Kudos, @wolfman. Many kudos.
There is nothing more to add - another grandiose Installment [mention]wolfman[/mention] - the last paragraph was touching and kind of scary. Nikita allowing herself pummeld like a punching ball. If I recall the first appearance of Nikita and see her now? What an development. But it is sad to know that this wonderful being lives on borrowed time.
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Post by wolfman »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] and [mention]Caesar73[/mention], thank you again for your kind words.

Nikita was a checkout girl and trained hairdresser, when she watched an assassin disguised as her mother, murder her father . Then she was tortured and experimented on.

Ever since she was freed, she has been fighting to overcome her demons.

Her tine might be limited, but it is not over yet.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

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Post by wolfman »

The Royal party watch in horror as the horde envelopes Nikita. The soldiers redouble their efforts trying to thin the crowd from a distance.

The King looks on helplessly seeing the scene unfold. He fails to see that Angela is no longer dressed in mere robes, but robes of woven Orichalcum. She takes the philosopher’s stone mounted in her ring and touches her brother’s clothing, quietly chanting in a language before humanity.

Halpron shoots his gaze to her as he feels his clothing stiffen slightly and take on the silver-gold sheen of Orichalcum. He thinks for a moment, then nods towards the soldiers with them, “Them too.”

Angela nods and when the King’s clothing has transformed she moves to the closest soldier.

“Your Majesty. A craft approaches.” Another of the squad confirms, pointing to a spot in the sky.

Halpron nods, before ordering the soldier, “Get to the hold, fetch six arrestors. We are going after her.”

“Your Highness, it is too dangerous.” The soldier says, fearfully.

“The risks pale in comparison to letting an ally perish, due to our inaction.” The King says, gently.

The soldier nods, with a smile and a salute and disappears over the side of the stricken craft.

By the time he returns, the speck is now a recognisable craft and Angela has completed the transformation of the others clothing into woven Orichalcum. The soldier passes out the six belts and gives the King a handgun with extra ammunition.

“When the rescue craft lands we get in and when we pass over the melee, we jump. The arrestors will slow our descent enough for the gyrojets to make a hole in the horde we can land in. Then we get to Nikita and get picked up again.” The King says, calmly.

Everyone nods, and prepares in their own ways. The soldiers, fix Orichalcum bayonets to their rifles. Angela arms herself with the handgun she was given and a spare knife, gifted by one of their guards. The King checks the handgun and draws his sword, muttering a litany of war under his breath.




Commander Arc cuts power to her craft forcing it to drop the hundred plus metres to the ground, like a stone, coming to a gentle stop and landing when the ships arresters engage.

The King barely breaks his stride stepping onto the loading gantry of the craft. As the others board, her punches the intercom, “This is King Halpron, we need immediate dust off with sortie over the horde for emergency drop, extended loiter and pick up.”

Commander Arc frowns, keying her microphone, “Your Majesty. Our orders are....”

“Your orders are what I tell you they are. Do not fear, you will not face any repercussions, but we need to move. If you please?”

“Immediately, Your Highness.” Arc says with a smile, thinking “Always wanted to fly into combat.”

She quickly keys her microphone again, “All crew. All crew. Emergency response and evac, all hands on station. Egress stations, weapons hot. Firing ports, go live.”

The compliment of soldiers on board grin at the chance to support a military action with the King and prove themselves. Weapons are readied and firing ports are opened in readiness.

Halpron looks each of his Orichalcum clad comrades in the eye as he speaks, “This is strictly voluntary. If you stay, I will respect your choice.”

His men all snap a sharp salute and step towards the still open bay doors, calm and ready.

Arc keys the comms again, “We are circling the thickest part of the melee.”

“Very good. Hold position and wait for our signal.” Halpron orders, stepping out of the craft into the air, closely followed by the his soldiers and High Priestess Angela.

They form a star formation in mid air with Angela at its heart and drift lazily down with the soldiers volleying gyrojets at the ground beneath them.

The crew of the rescue craft provide additional fire support, cutting a swathe through the Annunakin, pushing them back.

The Annunakin react to the landing of the Orichalcum clad warriors in their midst backing away slowly from the loose star of men in their ranks.



Arc switches to the radio and calls in, “I need danger close support for ongoing ground based rescue under my position. Over.”

“Negative. Your orders were to bring the King straight back.” An agitated voice, barks.

“I am sorry General Cassius. His majesty insisted that we act to save the foreign advisor.” Arc says, with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The sound of soft laughter, plays over the radio, before General Cassius says, “Of course he did. When he gets back on board, tell him he owes you a medal.” There is a moment of static on the line and the General adds, “Tell him he owes me one too.”

A call follows on the open channel, “This is General Cassius. His Majesty is engaged with the enemy on Daemos. All units in the area, expedite. Coordinate firing solutions with Commander Arc.”



Halpron strides at the head of the chevron, two men either side and hanging back with his sister behind him. The Annunakin back away warily in the presence of Orichalcum.

The party presses through the throng, towards the pile of frenzied creatures atop Nikita. “On my signal, charge.” Halpron says, gladius in his right hand, sidearm in his left.

Bayonets glint in the sunlight, on gyrojet rifle barrels like spear points. The party strides forth, each member at once terrified and calm.

Halpron roars and charges forward slashing with his sword. A swing to the left, splits the chest of one creature and a slash to the right severs another creatures leg, whilst a follow up thrust pierces the throat of the next. He leaps over the body, heedless of those around him.

The four soldiers thrust, high aiming for necks and paces of their foes, whilst those to the rear aim low slashing at legs, to slow possible pursuers. Meanwhile, Angela provides cover from inside the formation, taking headsets at any who get too close without intervention.

Halpron delivers a mighty downward slash, bisecting the creature in front of him. He steps between the split halves, as ordnance begins landing around them, hammering the remnants of the horde.

The soldier to his left, jams his blade into the chest of an Annunakin, using his momentum to vault over its head and slam his blade into the equivalent of another Annunakin’s collar bone.

The man to the Kings right swings his weapon in a wide arc, catching two creatures in the throat, as he sweeps past them.

A smaller Annunakin lunges at the King, raking his chest. The blow does not penetrate the Orichalcum weave, but the impact is such that at least a couple of ribs are broken, drawing a grunt from the Regal warrior. The creature reels back in pain from the touch of Orichalcum, then flies back with a bullet from the King’s sidearm, between its compound eyes.

With a slower pace the party battles through the melee, each sustaining through own injuries, but none succumbing to them.



“No. I might be dying, but not on my back. I am an unkillable maniac. Always and forever.” The knot of creatures surrounding Nikita explodes from within, with an agonised roar. Nikita staggers to her feet and begins slowly stumbling towards the party. “Oh you silly sod, Halpron. Why didn’t you let me end this on my terms?”

The struggle. Eternal. Yet fleeting. Lash out at the approaching mob. One foot forward. Other foot forward. Each step a battle in its own right, between her will, her fatigue and her injuries.

Annunakin loom over her and assail her at every turn. She back fists the first to the jaw, separating it from the creatures skull. She punches the next in the chest with the strength of the damned, liquifying its heart. She grabs the head of the next slamming it into her knee and stepping over its body. She grits her teeth and roars, “Pain is power, mother fuckers.”

There is no finesse, no frills and no mercy only death.



Halpron and the party surge forward with renewed vigour seeing Nikita emerge from the fray. He sheathes his sword on the move and catches her before she falls. His Atlantean strength barely managing, her almost four hundred pound dead weight.

The soldiers surround them and his sister lunging out at any creature that approaches, emboldened by her display of raw power.

Halpron holds Nikita, cradling her head as she ruggedly breathes, sucking in air in gasps. He looks up at his sister, eyes verging on tears, with a simple plea, “Help her.”

Angela kneels at her side, trying to hide her horror, at the wounds she sees. She takes a deep breath and swallows, “If she has come this far, I have to at least give her a chance to get a little further.”

Angela begins with the deep gouges on her chest, exposing bone. The flesh darkens where it bubbles and hisses with alien toxins. Angela takes out a small Orichalcum blade and excises the infected flesh, discarding the corrupted meat.

Next she excises ruined flesh from Nikita’s arms and legs, shaking her head in dismay, “I have never had to remove this much tissue before. I have no idea how she will recover.”

Angela feels Halpron's hand on her arm, “You are doing brilliantly.” He says warmly and gently.

The High Priestess smiles weakly and begins to work on the damage to Nikita’s face and neck, before removing her ruined eye.

As if on cue, a dozen craft descend and use their turbofan to blow crowds of Annunakin back and clear a space, whilst countless guns open fire on the retreating horde.

In the relative safety of the evac craft, Halpron looks down, feeling his hand squeezed. He sees Nikita’s lips tremble and he leans down.

With all of her remaining strength, Nikita whispers, “Thank you.”

Halpron smiles gently down at her and whispers back, “Your actions saved us all. Thank you, Nikita.”, before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, as her eyes flutter closed.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

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Post by Caesar73 »

I am at loss for words. This is so touching. You are a true master [mention]wolfman[/mention] who has honed his craft. If I take the end of this chapter one might think, that this is Nikita´s end. It reminds me of the Epitath of the Spartans at Thermophylae. Was this Nikita´s final stand? Future will tell.
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Post by GreyLord »

Poignant, @wolfman. I must start referring to you as doc wolfman.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
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Post by wolfman »

Thank you [mention]Caesar73[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention] once again your kind words leave me humbled.

It would make a fitting end for Nikita in some ways to end it now.

However, she is tenacious and full of surprises.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

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Post by wolfman »

One week later

The quiet of the hospital ward, deep in the infirmary, is cool and dimly lit at this hour of the day. A soft beep, regularly pierces the silent still air, punctuated with the low soft hiss of an air regulator.

A member of the Phlogiston Order enters the room, in a pure white tunic. She plucks the patients chart off of the foot of the bed and reviews it, with a shake of her head.

“Four broken and five fractured ribs, punctured lung, broken tibia, left arm amputated just below the elbow, right hip dislocated, left eye missing, left cheek shattered.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, “She should be dead and gone, but she is actually stable, if barely alive.”

The doctor takes Nikita’s temperature and pulse and notes them on the chart.

With practiced skill, the doctor places a hand on Nikita’s shoulder and another under her left knee and, with some effort rolls her patient onto her side to reduce the chances of pressure sores from being in one position for too long.

Before she leaves, she places a hand on her patients shoulder with a silent prayer, before, whispering, “Stay strong, Atlantis holds its breath for news of your recovery.”



In the plains of her mind, Nikita stands tall in the midst of the creatures that surround her. However quickly she despatches them, the creatures are all around her, their breath hot on her skin.

“This is not real.” She says between ragged breathes.

She can hear their clawed feet thundering on the plain around her and can smell their pungent, sour smell hanging in the air like a pervasive fog. “They almost killed me. But I survived and got away.”

Without thinking, she deflects all of their attacks, rending her foes with raking blows from her pincers. “Just like before, they make a beeline for me, ignoring the Kings party. But why did that work?”

She snips the arms off of a Annunakin as it lunges for her, with the easy of snipping a thread, “They are seeking to take out the greatest perceived target, to leave the others as an easier target. Rather than go for the easy kill and leave themselves exposed. That is the only reason I can think of that they would go for me over other targets.” She nods in comprehension, “They seek to exterminate, not just to kill.”

“Is this a trick? Is this the afterlife?” She wonders, snipping a foe in two and discarding the halves of it.

“This might be a dream. Or maybe something else.” Nikita muses, thoughtfully, before coming to a realisation. “I have experienced this before. In Cambodia, when I got shot in the head, I came here and spoke with Dani.” She stares, agape, “This is a death trance.”

“I stayed in it before, until I had said what I needed to say to Dani.” She spins on the spot, tearing into several of the Annunakin. “I have done all this. Why am I here again?” She thinks, landing and snipping the heads from the shoulders of two more foes.

Nikita loses herself in the act of combat, submerging her thoughts beneath a layer of strikes, counterstrike, bites and slashes, before she has a realisation, “Maybe I am here again to see something, I missed first time around.”

The scene freezes and she steps out of her body, floating above the scene. She moves in closer to the Annunakin examining them closely. “First the obvious, they have the build and bulk of a pony, but with six legs and the chitin of an insect.”

She glides around one of them , “The armour is thick, but not so thick that my claws cannot penetrate it. The neck is definitely a weak point in their armour. That could be why my pincers were able to clip their heads off.”

Nikita moves in close to the creatures claws and nods to herself, “There is a venom channel. That could at least in part be the source of the crippling pain from where I was hit.”

She examines the arm of the creature, looking close, she sees a small protuberance just past the wrist, “That must be the venom sack.”

“I wonder.” She thinks, watching close as the scene blurs into motion again. She watches herself trade blows with her other worldly foes. She watches numb for a few moments, before turning away.

“This is stupid. What am I missing?” She curses herself, bitterly. “I know how they fight and how I fight. So what am I looking for?”

“Don’t look at the physical. Look beyond the surface.” She thinks, calmly.

Nikita closes her eyes and focuses on the lifepulses before her as the fight continues. The vibrant yellow of her own and the bright green of the Annunakin. With a smile, a dawning realisation occurs to her, “When I hit them, my targets lifepulse flares slightly. Likewise when they hit me, mine flares. The pain is not just from the toxin, it’s from the interaction of our lifepulses.”

She leans in close examining the lifepulse of the creature she just struck, until she sees the feint rivulets of yellow running through it. Then she turns her attention to her own life pulse seeing the thin veins of green and the ephemeral wisps of green, running deep into her lifepulse.

Nikita allows herself to drift on the breeze, turning it over in her mind, “So where human soldiers are injured and don’t heal, it is could be because somehow their life energy is being siphoned off by the Annunakin.”

“That is why I am still here, my healing has stalled and it is why the soldiers are not recovering.” She thinks, centring herself.

Nikita reaches inside herself and sweeps the green wisps from her lifepulse and releases them. A clap of thunder crashes above the plain and she smiles, letting herself be pulled down at impossible speeds towards her body.



Alone in the dark, Nikita's body lays still. Her pulse begins to quicken and her heart thunders in her chest. Her body burns, almost as intensely as the fire in her heart.

The air is filled with the sound of flesh knitting together and bones popping back into position. Across her body, a maelstrom unfolds, sutures pushed from her skin, pins forced from bones and expelled from her body. Bones knit together, stronger than before.

Flesh and skin bubble and writhe with new growth, spanning the chasms of her injuries. Her left eye burns, reforming in its socket.

Nikita arches her back and writhes uncontrollably, as if trying to twist away from the ocean of pain within her, before she drowns.

Then as suddenly as she started, she stops and the room is still once again. She opens her eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment before a smile splits her lips, “I’m back, baby.” She whispers.

She lays back on her bed taking stock of her condition. “This was a bad one. I have not been this banged up in a long time. Even with my healing abilities, it will be a couple of days before I am fully on my feet.”

Nikita frowns for a moment, seeing the lifepulses in the area, “The four soldiers that escorted us to the plain? What are they doing next door.” She shrugs to herself, “I guess I will find out soon enough. By the looks of it, they have each aged at least six days, since I last saw them.”

She takes a deep breath and begins pulling the needles out of her arms and girding herself, before removing the catheter. “These people have a thing about catheters, they need to get a grip.”

Nikita takes another moment to catch her breath before swinging her legs off of the bed and tentatively places her feet on the ground. Nervously she takes her first step.

Tentatively, she staggers across the room, taking a bottle of water and returning to bed. She gulps down, the bottle without a break, allowing the ice cold water to cleanse her. With a second bottle she starts to feel her thirst slaked.

She lays back in the bed and lights a cigarette and stares at the ceiling without speaking, sending cloud after cloud of smoke upwards. She closes her eyes and tries to force the memory of her life ebbing away from her mind.

Nikita finishes the cigarette and takes stock of herself again, thinking, “This was close. They nearly beat me.” She exhales slowly, trying not to cry, “I don’t want to die.”

“I want to live. I want to love. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to die.” Nikita thinks, rolling onto her side and softly beginning to cry.

Nikita holds herself and simply rocks until the place where her tears come, from dries up. In the aftermath, she lights another cigarette and thinks to herself, “You ain’t dead yet. Live whilst you have a life. Do something babe. There are people who need you.”

She lays still with that thought for what feels like an eternity, before she rouses herself. “OK, let’s do this.” Nikita says, breathing as deeply as her sore ribs will allow.

She sits on the corner of the bed for a moment and allows her senses to extend. “I sense others with the Annunakin taint in the building next door.” She thinks, reaching out and clearing the taint from their lifepulses, “Let’s give them a chance at least.”

With a small flourish, she clothes herself in a loose fitting red and black tracksuit, with a pair of comfortable trainers. “Time to move.”

She braces herself for a fight, not knowing the intention of the soldiers on the other side of the door. Without warning she opens the door and steps through.



The four men immediately, drop to one knee and bow their heads, with their right fists pressed hard to the chests. As one they say, “Blessed are the God’s. The Champion of Daemos has risen.”

Nikita looks on in stunned confusion. “What the hell?” She says, under her breath before speaking softly, “Get up guys, you don’t need to kneel before me. What are you doing?”

“You actions saved us all. We maintain the vigil awaiting your return and have pledged to act as your heralds.” The tall Teutonic man says, proudly. “I am Wulf.”

“Across Atlantis your name is revered and tales of your great battle are sung.” The man with Mongolian features says, with a wise nod. “Xang.”

“Footage of your valiant defence has spread across the realm and you are a national hero.” The dusky Mediterranean says, with a smile. “Aldo, at your service.”

“We are here to provide anything you need and act in your stead in official engagements when you are not available.” The unreadable black man says, respectfully. “I am Herald Oscar.”

Nikita shakes her head in denial, “This is too much. What the heck is going on?”

The men exchange a glance and Wulf steps forward, “Your actions allowed the King and High Priestess to survive and you saved us into the bargain. Your bravery is an inspiration to us all.....”

Aldo interrupts, “Steady on, brother.” He pats Wulf on the shoulder, “Your stand has been seen by most citizens and is being viewed by some as a call to arms. In many ways, you are a hero to our people.”

Feeling a weakness, not of her body she sits on one of the chairs in the room, shaking her head, “No, this isn’t right. I did what I had to, in order to give you all a chance. I didn’t intend to become some poster child for a war.”

“Please understand. We have kept them at bay for so long, but you fight with the power of the ancients. We are a people in need of heroes and here you are. Powerful, unstoppable and yet humble despite the greatness of your actions.” Xang says, calmly.

“He is right.” Aldo says, gravely, “Every time the horde builds, it is stronger than the last. When we crashed, the horde had already swelled to horrifying numbers.”

“You don’t understand what you have done.” Wulf says, in a matter of fact tone, “You stood tall and did not bend. You fought to the end, without faltering. Your bravery is an example to everyone.”

Nikita sits quietly and thinks to herself, “I could have died and they think I am a hero. Are these people nuts?”

“The truth is, everyone is waiting on a knife edge. Despite the vibrant life in the streets, everyone has the same fear about what may come. The unending horde. A wave of Annunakin that keeps on coming and cannot be repelled.” Oscar says, beseeching, “Everyone wants a role model who will stand and not break in the face of what is to come. That is what you have given us.”

She sits for a few minutes, not speaking or looking up. The Heralds wait nervously before Xang places a hand on her shoulder. “Is there anything we can get you?”

“No, but thank you.” Nikita says, quietly, “This is all a bit much. You guys don’t need to hang around. I will be OK.”

The men nod and salute. Wulf hands her a communicator and says, “If you need anything, just call. Our credentials are programmed in.”

Nikita accepts the phone with a weak sounding “Thank you.”

The men move to leave before she stops them, “Wait guys I do need your help. I need to check in with my family. I also need to get some serious protein and a place to exercise, away from prying eyes. But mostly, I would like to speak to the King, you guys and High Priestess . I also need to thank you for coming for me when you could have just left.”

“You have nothing to thank us for. The other things we can get for you.” Oscar says, gently. He reaches into his pocket and she smiles accepting the cigarettes and lighter. “I think the phrase is, we’ve got your back.”
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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Post by GreyLord »

This is magnificent, "doc" [mention]wolfman[/mention]. Not an ending but a beginning.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
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Post by wolfman »

After an assault of unprecedented savagery, the buffet of fruits, meats, seeds and cheeses lays in devastated ruins.

Nikita stands in the centre of the room, her body already burning through the protein she has gorged on. She begins to move slowly at first. Measured, graceful movements flow from her, as she begins a Tai Chi routine.

Wulf, Xang and Aldo watch agape, trying to follow the movements, when she gradually increases her pace, when she switches between fighting styles, from Tai Chi Chuan to Muay Thai onto Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and beyond. She moves like a blur, faster than the eyes can see, striking innumerable invisible targets with swift precise strikes.

She crosses the room, to the punching bag and peppers it with strikes, at a machine guns pace. The strikes begin lightly, but soon increase in power to the limits of her unaugmented power, hammering and mangling the bag.

She spins away, with a knife in hand, exploding into strikes and defences. Over the next two hours, she drills in sword, testubo, daikatana, manriki gusari and spear.

By the time she has finished, Oscar has joined the others watching the display of skill.

Nikita stands for a moments, smiling to herself, thinking, “Everything seems to be working OK. I have lost some flexibility and stamina, but have built on raw power and toughness.”

She wipes the back of her neck and sees her Heralds watching her, “My abilities are part of what I do, but they are not all I can do. I value practical skill as highly, if not moreso than my special abilities. All the power in the world is useless without precision. I train in precision first, then force.”

“I would have thought, that with your abilities, you would just go all in on developing them.” Aldo says, without irony.

Nikita shakes her head and smiles, “That is a trap. If I were to do that and lost my abilities, I would be in trouble. This way, I always have another path to take.”

Wulf steps forward, “Will you teach us?”

Nikita pauses for a moment and nods, “I will, but only on the condition that you pass on what I show you.” She pauses for a moment, until they nod their ascent, “If you are my Heralds, I would like you to carry my message.” She pauses, searching for the right words, “Be humble. Be open minded. Be calm. Be kind.”




Whilst the Heralds work through the first Tai Chi kata, Nikita retires to her hospital room and pulls out the phone that Oscar secured for her. “I think on some level, I was hoping that there was no way to call home. But no sense putting it off.”

“I can make a real difference here. But this place could be lethal for the others. They will want to come, but the hordes seem to be rebuilding their numbers at their fastest rate and they will just keep coming. If Dani and the others come as things are now, it could be a death sentence for them.” She thinks, grimly. “I want them here, but I can’t have them here. Besides, if this is bigger than me, they will need to be ready.”

Nervously, she places a video call and waits for it to connect, silently hoping that it doesn’t.




Dani lights another cigarette and stares out of the window at the bleak November evening. Her house is silent, in contrast to Sasha’s home, next door.

She exhales slowly, then takes a mouthful of ice cold vodka, “Where the hell is she?”

“It has been almost two weeks since the Stag came to us to say she has been taken and there is no trace of her anywhere. Carl sobered up enough to check the weave of fate for her and there is nothing. Its like she vanished off the face of the earth.” She takes a deep drag of smoke and rubs the back of her neck.

“Jim is going all in and there is no trace of her on any electronic systems. Sasha is putting a brave face on it, but even she is starting to think that Nikita is gone.” Dani takes a slug of vodka and winces at the burn, “The girls are quiet, as if they think that if they don’t ask, the no one will tell her she is gone.”

She rises from her bed and wanders across the room, loosely holding the neck of the vodka bottle. “The thing is they don’t know what I know.”

Dani glides through the house like a ghost and enters her armoury, “I know she isn’t dead, because if she was, I would have felt it.”

She stares at the weapon racks and thinks to herself, “There must be either something preventing her from calling or she is unable to call. Either way, we need to be ready for when she does show up.”

She proceeds down the weapon rack, methodically swiping the weapons into her own pocket dimension.

In the empty echo of the vault, she leans against a concrete support beam, taking a large slug of vodka, “Dozens of weapons and thousands of rounds.” She closes her eyes and rests her head against the stone, “I hope it is enough.”



Dani sees the call from an unknown number of her phone and shrugs, taking the call.

“Dani?” Nikita says, almost nervously.

“Been wondering when you would call.” Dani says, calmly whilst feeling a wave of relief fill her heart.

“Sorry. Things have been crazy, babe.” Nikita says chewing her lip.

“Are you alright? Where are you?” Dani asks, listening out for clues of her sisters location and staring at the screen.

“I am alright, but a bit banged up.” Nikita says, sheepishly.

Dani notices the faint tracing of scarring around her sisters left eye and says in a jokey tone, “Yeah, yeah whatever, you are an unstoppable beast.”

Nikita narrows her eyes and frowns, “Err no. You are an unstoppable beast. I am an unkillable maniac.”

Dani breathes a small sigh of relief that Nikita corrected her. “My bad, babe.” Dani says, before her features harden, “Where on earth are you?”

Nikita hesitates for a moment, “I’m not. Look I erm, I am OK. But I have something I need to do and I may not be back for a while.”

“Whatever you need, I have your back.” Dani says, pleadingly as she realises what her sister is trying to say.

“I know, but this time.” She pauses, “I need to do this alone.” Nikita says, the crack in her voice matching the pit open in her stomach. “There is a foe here unlike any we have faced. If I fail, you need to be ready.”

“Hell no. Tell me where you are babe? We are stronger together and you bloody know it.” Dani pleads.

“I am in a place where there are things that can kill me, in ways that I can’t come back from. Things which cannot be allowed to run free.” Nikita says, sadly, “If I fail, it will be up to you.”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t do this Niki. Let us help.” Dani begs with tears in her eyes.

“I love you all so much.” Nikita says choking back tears of her own, “Know that, wherever you are, whenever it is, I am thinking of you all. What I do, I do to keep everyone safe.”

“Fuck that. We need you Niki.” Dani pleads.

“I am needed more here.” Nikita says, trying to stay calm, “This place is on a knife edge and I can make a real difference here. My whole life I have been looking for something. A sense of purpose and I think I have found that. I need to do this.”

“You don’t need to prove yourself, you dumbass. You have always been awesome.” Dani says, with a bitter laugh.

“Thanks babe, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that it has come to this for me to realise it.” Nikita confesses.

Dani tales a deep breath and thinks, “She wont back down. She has made her mind up and nothing I say, will change that.” This realisation hits her like a thunderbolt. She sighs heavily, “I am sorry too, babe. Whatever it is that you face. Know I am with you in spirit and if you need us, say the word and we will be there.”

“Thanks babe.” Nikita says, regretfully, almost wanting to tell Dani everything.

“You can do anything and beat any challenge. Just come back safe.” Dani says, wiping her eyes.

“Keep everyone safe for me. Knowing you are there protecting everyone, gives me the peace of mind to do this.” Nikita says, pausing to take a deep breath, trying not to cry, “Love you Dani.”

“Love you too Niki.” Dani manages to say, before the call cuts out, leaving her alone and crying in the dark.




The hollow silence of the room, in the wake of the call, presses in on Nikita oppressively.

She exhales slowly and centres herself. “That was awful. I hate shutting Dani out, but I can’t risk the others coming here, at least not yet.”

“The Annunakin came for me. It could be to take the strongest on the field or it could be that they are drawn to me, if they are drawn to me, then they will be drawn to my family.” She thinks, lighting a cigarette plucked from thin air.

A soft knock at the door, breaks her flow and she turns to face it, “Yes?”

Oscar nervously walks in, “I am sorry to bother you. However, the King has received word of your recovery and has asked to see you.”

“Thank you Oscar.” Nikita says, looking down at herself, detecting the faint whiff of sweat and blood, over the scent of tobacco smoke, “I just need a shower and I will be ready.”
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
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Post by GreyLord »

The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife, [mention]wolfman[/mention]. Great writing.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
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Post by Caesar73 »

GreyLord wrote: 9 months ago The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife, @wolfman. Great writing.
Nothing more to say [mention]GreyLord[/mention] ! This is so intense!
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Post by wolfman »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Caesar73[/mention], thank you for your jibd words and support.

There is much ahead of Nikita, her journey is far from over.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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Post by wolfman »

Nikita sips an ice cold pineapple and papaya drink in the cool interior of the shuttle bearing her to the Palace. Wulf pilots the vehicle, with her other Heralds in attendance.

She tries to relax, but despite the appearance of being comfortable, the tunic she wears keeps riding up her legs. With a flourish she changes into sleek black leather jeans and red silk blouse, with a black leather corset cinching her waist and accentuating her chest. Thinking for a moment, she changes the sandals for black leather ankle boots with a one inch heel.

Feeling more at ease, she allows herself to relax and cracks her neck. She looks up at Aldo acknowledging his attempt to get her attention.

“The King is in a meeting with the pillars of Atlantis and has requested your attendance.” He says, “We will not be able to attend, as we do not have clearance.”

“The pillars of Atlantis?” Nikita asks, confused.

“Key figures and people of power. Angela, high Priestess of the phlogiston order, in charge of transformative services such as alchemy and medicine. General Cassius in charge of rapid response operations and military actions. Corven, bastion of manufacture, he runs most of the industries in Atlantis either directly or indirectly. Galton, Lady of the fields and farms, runs agriculture, farming and fisheries for Atlantis. Then there is Phobos.” Aldo explains, pausing to find the words.

Xang picks up the mantle, “If I may, Phobos is a master esoterican and runs all of the education in Atlantis. His followers research esoteric arts that are lost to time and those that are common here. As a result, he can be a little strange. Last but not least, there is the toughest to get onside, Neophytos voice of the people.”

“Don’t get me started on her. She is prone taking public opinion as fact and argues based on that opinion. She manipulates Atlantis’ social media to her own ends and is too powerful for her own good or the good of Atlantis.” Wulf calls back from the cockpit. “She is dangerous and her vote can make or break a motion.”

“Sound like an interesting bunch.” Nikita says, thoughtfully. “Am I walking into a lions den?”

“It’s hard to say. It could be that they just want to see who all the fuss is about. Or, they want to judge if you pose a risk to Atlantis.” Wulf offers, “It could go any of a number of ways.”

Nikita smiles to herself, “Once more into the unknown.”




A tanned man in a gold tunic opens a heavy Orichalcum door and steps to the right of the doorway, “Miss Nikita Green, Champion of Daemos.” He announces, in a professional tone.

Nikita steps into the palace’s high ceilinged, airy conference room. Sunlight streams through the large open windows, to the soundtrack of bird song and the wind in the olives groves outside.

Every surface in the room gleams, polished to an almost supernatural shine. Nikita takes a moment to absorb every detail about the room, “Polished wood and marble, elegant and expensive, but understated at the same time. This is a practical room, not for show.”

Halpron stares at her wide eyed, “By the Gods, you have indeed risen. Please join us.” He says warmly, indicating a seat to his right.

Conscious all eyes are on her she makes her way to the seat, getting the lay of the land, “The guy with slicked back hair and the flight suit, is probably, General Cassius. Corven must be the older bald guy, with hairless arms and a scent of ozone. Galton could be the middle aged woman with the callouses on her hands and the deep tan. Neophytos on the other hand is presented and manicured, never done a day’s manual labour in her life. Which leaves the old guy everyone is trying to ignore, who must be Phobos.”

She bows “Thank you, your majesty.”, then takes her seat, smiling at Angela and exchanging nods.

“How are you feeling?” Halpron, asks, looking into Nikita’s eyes.

“Still a bit sore, but much better.” Nikita says, softly, “How are you, your Highness?”

He rubs his side and smiles, with a slight wince, “Still quite sore, but on the mend. Most importantly, we are alive thanks to you.”

“Thank you for coming back for me.” Nikita says, her heart full of words, she dare not utter.

“Thank you for saving us all.” Halpron says, with a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry your majesty, but we still have much to discuss.” Corven, interrupts the moment.

“We can take a moments break from you complaining, that the deadlines are too short for production.” Galton languidly, dismisses him.

“Isn’t there a flower for you to water?” Corven hisses, back.

Nikita spots Angela rolling her eyes, a split second before Halpron slams his palm on the table, “Enough.” He says, with an edge to his voice, “This bickering solves nothing. We need to come together. Cassius, would you please confirm what is happening on Daemos?”

Galton and Corven shrink back in their seats, cowed for now.

“Thank you sir.” The general says, standing. A hologram illuminates the centre of the room, displaying the layout of Daemos. The single mountain looms above the plain with red dots on and around it. “This was two days ago and this is today “ The image changes to show swathes of red under the surface and hidden in the crevices of the mountain. “They are building their numbers and it appears that they are preparing to move. The frequency of these build ups has been slowly increasing over the last year and they appear to be speeding up.”

Corven stammers, “B-by the gods. How long do we have?”

“Could be an hour, could be a week, or anywhere in between.” Cassius sighs, before continuing, “However, we have forty platforms up and running and in the few skirmishes we have had over the last day or so, they pack a heck of a wallop. The rapid strike force is not yet up to full strength but, early trials are promising. We can get a wing on station within three minutes of an alert and Corven's people have gone over and above so far with what we have seen.”

“Are you confident that you can contain the horde?” The King asks, levelling his gaze at his general.

“Yes.” Cassius says calmly, with a gentle nod, “But that is not the problem.”

“Oh please, what is it this time? Need more soldiers? More guns. Why don’t you just get back to your cage and whip the soldiers into a rage like your father did?” Galton savagely, sneers.

The room erupts into cat calling and shouting with accusations and insults flying. Nikita watches the room and thinks, “Just like any corporate meeting. Bubbling resentments. Perceived slights and points scoring.”

Nikita sees anger boil in the King’s eyes and dares to place a hand on his arm. His eyes snap to her and she smiles and winks, mouthing the words, “Allow me.”

Her smile infects the King’s lips and he nods and settles back in his chair, to Angela’s amusement.

Nikita throws her head back and roars, stunning the room into silence. She takes a breath and smiles, “I am loudest, does that mean, I win?”

Aside from Angela and Halpron most of those in the room have stark fear in their eyes. The only exception is Cassius, who just looks amused, “Well Nikita, it appears no one else wants to speak, so you have the floor.” General Cassius says, warmly.

“Thank you General.” She pauses for a moment, to consider her words, before she speaks, “I think you are right, the problem, is not knocking them down. The problem, is that they keep getting up. Air power and long range munitions can win a battle, but they cannot occupy territory and permanently stem the flow of the horde at source.”

Cassius nods and indicates that she should continue. Taking another breath, she addresses the room again, “Until that can happen the cycle will continue. When forces are engaged, resources will be used and the pressure is on to produce more, putting more stress on production for consumables to replace supplies used and take resource from other projects.”

Corven purses his lips and speaks, his voice gravelly, “You are not wrong there. How could you know that?”

“I have seen it the world over. When a society has finite resources and there is a crisis, everything else is deprioritised.” Nikita says, remembering the horrors in the wake of COVID. “But, when the crises pass, the manufacturing sector is leaner and more effective than ever.”

Corven nods sagely as Galton snaps, “Who are you to address us?”

Halpron speaks quietly and firmly, with a low threat in his voice, “She is the warrior, who advised on a bloodless means of repelling the horde and saved my and my sister lives and slaying almost a thousand Annunakin. You would do well to respect all at this table.”

Galton swallows, her mouth suddenly dry, “I-I’m sorry, Your Highness.” She blinks rapidly for a moment, “I apologise to you too, Miss Green.”

“As I say, I have seen this before.” Nikita says, ready to take a gamble, “Usually, in times such as these, it is agriculture that suffers the worst. As manufacture struggles, people get pulled from the fields and into the factories, until the factories thrive and the crops die. However, I have seen the people in the streets, well fed and nourished.” She turns to look Galton in the eye, “The farmers and food producers of Atlantis are to be commended for all they do.”

Nikita casually glances at Neophytos, noting her sitting poised like a cobra, “It is good that the people have full bellies, but what is in their hearts? How do the people of Atlantis feel?” she asks aloud, giving Neophytos a chance to take the floor.

The lithe predatory woman, takes a sip of red wine and links her lips, as if the words she is about to utter are a feast she is to consume, “Approval ratings for the King, since his direct intervention on Daemos, are at their highest levels since his coronation. Overall levels of happiness are high across Atlantis. Some concerns are being raised about the frequency of the horde, but confidence in the military is high. For the most part all is well.” She pauses, for effect before finishing, “Until we get to the subject of you.”

Nikita maintains a calm expression, waiting for the other woman to continue, whilst thinking, “Here it comes. Brace for impact.”

Neophytos appears to show neither pleasure or dismay, as she resumes, “We have young girls across the realm, dressing in skin tight red suits and dyeing their hair black. They are practicing martial drills and war cries and forming action and neighbourhood watch groups. At the same time, teenaged boys and young men have pictures of Nikita adorning walls, phones and in some cases tattoos.” She pauses, letting the words sink in, “However, there is some dissent about the convenience of that Nikita showing up at this moment in our history with all the answers, like a shining light. This dissent is neither isolated nor concentrated among any specific demographic, just the occasional dissenting voice, for now. However, we should get ahead of this.”

Nikita nods, listening, then closes her eyes to ask, “What would set their minds at ease?”

Neophytos pinches the bridge of her nose. However, it is Phobos that speaks, his voice thin and reedy in the air, “To prove that you are pure of intent, the best way would be to undergo the rite of mirrored self.”

“No!” The King days emphatically.

“She is too old, with too much darkness in her past, it will destroy her.” Angela, says, shaking her head.

“If you want to prove purity, this is the way. By discarding the fetters of her past, she can prove she is ready to face the future.” Phobos says, in a calm, gentle voice.

“There must be another way.” The King says, hanging his head.

Neophytos wears a grave expression, chewing her lip before she speaks, “I have probed and pushed, however, the perception in those that have it, is that the timing is too perfect and Miss Green's successes could be due to her being aligned to the horde in order to set a trap to crush us.” With a look of guilt, she cannot meet Nikita’s eyes.

“Absolute nonsense.” The King protests.

Angela places a hand on his arm and speaks softly, “Of course it is, if the dissenters are few, we can ignore them and move on.”

King Halpron shakes his head, slowly, “That is a dangerous path. Once you ignore one concern of your people, when do you stop? This is a headache we could do without, but it is one we must face.”

“Your majesty, you have placed your trust in me and listened to my counsel. We have taken to the field of battle together. My fear now, is that if people think this of me and I stand at your side, this will cast doubts upon you by association. You are a great man. You don’t deserve that.” Nikita shrugs and looks at Phobos, “What do I need to do? I mean how bad can it be?”
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
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Post by GreyLord »

Nikita says,
I mean how bad can it be?
I suspect that there is no end to how bad it can be. Amazing story, [mention]wolfman[/mention].
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
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Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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Post by Caesar73 »

GreyLord wrote: 9 months ago Nikita says,
I mean how bad can it be?
I suspect that there is no end to how bad it can be. Amazing story, @wolfman.
I fear so as wall - if anybody fears this Ritual it must really bad .....
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Post by wolfman »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Caesar73[/mention]

Thank you for your comments gentlemen. I wouldn't say that therr is no end to how baf it will be, but it may be quite bad.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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