Chapter 4: Orlando Szohr We Craita book One: The awakening of idols --- Cross Ponte air smelled of fear. Not a metaphorical fear - a real, chemical smell, which Kaelen could feel with her new aroused senses. Civilians locked themselves in their braided grass apartments, closed windows, the lights off. Outside, the silence was broken only by the occasional teginal tinnitus, the colossal sphere, and the rhythmic sound of the dipil paws against the cobblet. "He's coming," Derrin murmured, his eyes decent fixed on the street below. Kaelen did not have to ask who. She felt the vibration on the floor, the change in air pressure. Dipil, the end of chaos, advanced toward their building with the patience of a predator who knows that the prey has no way to run away. Then a new sound. Metal steps. Firm. Rhythmic. "It's not just him," said Thessa, his three heads turning into unison to the east. Shearing in the empty square, coming from the direction of Hell Fort district, came a figure that Kaelen had already seen in the stadium, but never close. Orlando Szohr. Her red and blue striped animatronical body shone under the pale Tedetre sun. His huge mouth - which in the pamphlets seemed exaggerated and "fun" - now it was closed on a given line. His eyes, strangely alive, examined the square, they found Dipil and did not hesitate. "Kaelen?" Derrin held his arm. "Is he?" The mascot? "It's Orlando," Kaelen replied, his eyes still partially dilated from the vision he had had minutes before. "And he came to get us." --- Orlando Szohr vs. Dipil, the end of dipil chaos was the first to move. His quadruped shape of Scorpion shot the square with a speed that contradicted its size. The four paws scraped the floor, lifting sparks of the stones. The sting - that tail replaced by a sting that drained vital strength - rocked menacingly. - Get out of the front, Animatronic - Dipil's voice was a noise of stones being crushed. "My mission is Hoslin. You're just an obstacle. Orlando did not answer with words. He attacked. His metallic fist fired on a punch that should have destroyed the rocky dipil shell. But the scorpion moved - not behind, but up. Membranous wings, invisible until then, opened on his back, and Dipil plucked with a serious tinnitus. - Flight, "murmured Orlando, more to himself than for the enemy. "I was not in the reports. "Nothing is in the reports, Dipil dipped, your jaws open. - I'm chaos. I am unpredictable. The bite hit Orlando's shoulder. The teeth of the scorpion - covered with thorns and tips - pierced the metal housing where it should be invulnerable. Sparks jumped. And Orlando felt something she did not feel for years: pain. Local weakness, he realized. My weakness. They know where it is. Dipil stepped back, hovering at five feet high, his sting now shining with a black light. "You bleed, machine. How interesting. Orlando touched his shoulder. His fingers came out of oil and short wires. His healing factor began to act - artificial fabrics recomposing, the circuits turning around - but slowly. Slowest than they should. Deterioration, he realized. My own body is wearing out while I use my powers. "No matter," he growled, raising his hands. Electricity jumped from his fingers toward the dipil. Blue rays cut the air, looking for the flying scorpion. But Dipil was quick. His enhanced surprise - that tactical advantage that made him three steps ahead of any opponent - made him desved each ray with precise movements. "Slowness," hissed Dipil. And the world slowed down to Orlando. Not completely - but enough. His movements became heavy, as if he were fighting an invisible current. Each step required folded effort. Every punch seemed to travel through honey. Dipil took advantage. He plunged again, but this time not with the bite. The sting advanced. Drain force. The sting pierced Orlando's chest - not deeply, but enough. And Orlando felt something sucked. No blood. No oil. Energy. Vitality. The very essence of his transferred consciousness. "You ..." Orlando gasped, falling on her knees. "You're killing me." "I'm sparing your life," Dipil corrected, hovering again. There's a difference. I could have pierced your core. He could have destroyed his consciousness. But no. You are living useful. An example. A message. The animatronics tried to get up. His healing factor struggled against drainage, but deterioration worsened every second. His senses were failing - the vision blazing, the hearing reduced to a constant tinnitus. Weakness of my powers, thought bitterly. The more use, the less I see. The more mourning, weaker. Dipil landed before him, his four real estate. "You lost, animatronics. Accepted. "Still ... I'm standing," Orlando replied, effort. "Technically, you're on your knees." The scorpion turned away, his eyes composed shining with a cold intelligence. - Live. Talk about this day. Count on others that Synraevraer are not just rumors. We are the will of the king. And no one - neither hybrids nor animatronics nor asleep - will be on our way. Dipil opened his membranous wings and smoothed again. But not toward Hell Fort. Not towards the underground factory. He flew towards the Kaelen building. "Meanwhile, in the alleys of Aniaburg ... Talulah Voelkel knew it was a trap. But she came anyway. Emilio Coster-Waldau waited for an abandoned square, surrounded by brown grass constructions number 1 that had been evacuated in a hurry. The cyan and black robot was still in the center, its metallic horns shining under noon light. His zipper - that sinister opening on his trunk - it was half open, as if something was about to leave. - Talulah Voelkel - Emilio's modulated voice echoed through empty space. - The perfect hybrid. The creation that rebelled. He tilted his head. - I'm impressed. And flattered that you came in person. "Where's thesa?" Talulah asked, his four eyes of Kla sweeping the environment in search of ambushes. "Rere?" She's not here. Never been. Emilio smiled - a strange smile on a metallic face. I invented her. The messages you received, the "information" on the loyals, everything was planted by me. I wanted you to come. Alone. Vulnerable. Talulah felt something cold run through his spine. "You lied. I manipulated. There is a difference. No warning, Emilio attacked. Spider webs - no common webs, but psychic energy filaments - fired from his hands toward Talulah. She flew up, her six-wings of hummingbird vibrating in high frequency, but the webs followed as if they had a life of its own. Solid light constructions. Hardened photon shells materialized around Talulah, blocking the webs. But the webs were not physical - they were psychic. They crossed the shells as if they did not exist and curled up in their arms, their legs, their wings. "You can not block your mind with light," Emilio said quietly. "I know all about you." Your powers. Your weaknesses. He took a step forward. "You're fragile, Talulah. Your body is a genetic patchwork. You get tired fast. And when you use your powers for a long time ... it is slow. Exhaustion. She already felt the weight. Fragility. His yellow skin and rose burned where the webs played. "I can go back in time," she replied, concentrating. The air around her rolled up. She began to retreat, trying to reverse the last few seconds, undo Emilio's attack. But Cibopata was faster. - Psionic explosion. Mental energy wave hit Talulah before she completed the temporal journey. His concentration broke. She fell on the floor, panting, her four-eyed eyes. "Your time manipulation requires focus," Emilio watched, approaching. "And you lose focus when you're in pain." It's a vicious cycle, is not it? He raised a hand. Modified plants - the same as thesa (the false thesa) had shown Kaelen - sprouted from the floor and rolled in the legs of Talulah. They shone with a green-sick light, draining their energy. "I was going to kill her," Emilio said almost thoughtfully. "That was the original order. Eliminate the rebel. But now ... "He tilted his head. "Now I think I'll own it." Think? Talulah Voelkel, the symbol of resistance, fighting alongside loyals. What a delicious irony. He held out his hand to touch his forehead. And then the world darkened. --- Intervention: Addison Abdalla was not common darkness. It was a dimension of darkness - a veil of absence of light swallowed the whole square. Emilio staggered, his photonic sensors useless. The psychic webs have dissolved. Modified plants wilt. - What? He fired, trying to activate his thermal vision. Nothing. The darkness blocked everything. - Who's there?! A voice replied. Female. Calm. With a strange echo, as if it came from far away and very close at the same time. "Someone you did not count." When the darkness dissipated, a figure was between Emilio and Talulah. ADDISON ABDALLA. She was ... disturbing. Yellow and pink, like Talulah, but with dark spots scattered throughout the body as a unhealthy constellation. More than two legs - six, eight, it was difficult to tell, for they moved constantly, changing position. Twisted horns grew from his head, and his eyes ... His eyes did not have pupils. Affect darkness. "Addison," Talulah whispered, relieved. You came. "Did you think I was going to let you face a Cibopata alone?" Addison smiled, and his teeth were sharp as blades. "We are the same factory, Talulah. Even Kla DNA. Same experiments. The difference is that I ... I never wanted to be hero. "What do you want, then?" Emilio stepped back, his hands held up, ready to attack. Addison turned to him. - I want to survive. And to survive, I need the consortium to continue working. I need the king to remain on the throne. I need the loyal ones ... lose some battles, but they see the war. She raised a hand, and something shone between her fingers. "And you, Emilio, is a threat to balance." "I am the will of the king." You are a broken tool. Addison attacked. Atomic manipulation. Emilio's right arm atoms began to vibrate - not enough to explode, but enough to destabilize their internal connections. The Cianeto and black robot shouted - a metallic and sharp sound - and fell to his knees. "Your body is sturdy," addison remarked, approaching. "But your atoms ... Atoms are fragile. Just a small fit at the vibrational frequency, and everything falls out. "Wait," Emilio tried to raise his hand, activate another psychological explosion. Addison did not wait. Cure others. Instead of damage, she channeled energy to Talulah. Hybrid felt her strength to return - exhaustion diminishing, temporary fragility disappearing. She stood up, her four eyes shining. "Together?" Talulah asked. "Together," addison confirmed. Emilio tried to run away. His psychic spider webs fired in all directions, creating a curtain of confusion. He ran to the nearest alley, his irregular steps, his internal systems in Pane. But it did not arrive far. Magnetic manipulation. Addison raised his hand, and Emilio's metallic body stopped in the air, suspended as a puppet. He struggled, trying to break free, but the magnetic force kept him still. "What do you want from me?" He gasped. "A message," addison replied. "Tell the king that the sleeping are awakening." Tell him the consortium does not control everything else. And tell him ... "She smiled, that blades smiling - ... that Addison Abdalla is on the side of who pay more. She released it. Emilio fell to the floor, staggered and disappeared in the alleys, his steps echoing until they disappear. Talulah watched Addison with a mixture of gratitude and mistrust. - "On the side of who pay more"? He repeated, incredulous. "Is that serious?" Addison shrugged, his multiple legs adjusting. "I'm realistic, Talulah. You fight for ideals. I fight for survival. But today, our interests lined up. She looked toward the building where Kaelen and Derrin were. "Now, I think you have a sleeping sleeping." And I ... I have a factory to protect. "Are not you going to help?" - I already helped. Addison began to retreat to the darkness that still hovered at the edges of the square. "The rest is with you." She disappeared. Talulah was alone in the square, the body still hurting, the mind stunned. But she could not stop. Kaelen needed her. Derrin needed her. And somehow, whole tedetre needed her to continue struggling. --- In Kaelen building ... Dipil landed on the roof with a thud that made the walls shake. His four scorpion paws pierced brown grass number 1 covering the surface, and his stinger swung menacingly. He did not enter - not immediately. He waited. - Hoslin Kaelen - His voice echoed through the whole building, penetrating walls and doors. - Derent Derrin. Real therssa. On behalf of King Aldric IV, I command them to surrender. Resist, and I will be forced to ... Extract them. Inside the apartment, Kaelen looked at Derrin and thesa. His eyes - still partially dilated, still seeing more than they should - they detected something that others could not. The weak point of dipil. Not in rocky carapace. Not in the poisonous sting. But in membranous wings. There, the armor was fine. There, a piercing attack could ... do not kill him, but disorient it. Sucky time to get away. "I have a plan," she said. "Is it a terrible plan?" Derrin asked. "Probably. "Then it's a good plan." She picked up the fragment of Onolyn that thesa had given her the blue crystal that emitted disturbing frequencies for creatures with insect DNA. He held him steadily. "When I say" now, "you run to the fire stairs. Do not look back. Do not hesitate. "And you?" Thessa asked. Kaelen smiled. His eyes - now completely withdrawn, kla pupils shining - reflected the blue light of the crystal. "I'll give him a distraction." Outside, on the roof, Dipil tilted his head of scorpion. He could feel something changing inside the building. Something ... awakening. Interesting, he thought. Very interesting. He lifted the sting and advanced. --- End of Chapter 4 --- In the next chapter: Kaelen faces Dipil using his newly awakens imitation ability - and discovers that the asleep genetic marker is much more powerful (and dangerous) of what she imagined. Meanwhile, Orlando Szohr, wounded but alive, gets help from an unlikely source. And in the depths of the ocean, the eyes that observed now have a name.