Day 178. 06:00 hours.
Forbes Park.
The Peacock Mansion.
The gate opened.
The Hellfire rolled in first. Six wheels crunching through the snow. The PROMETHEUS core humming. Matte black. Angular armor plating. A war machine that had been fighting for eight days and was home.
Aiko was in the gunner's seat. Her black eyes on the courtyard. Her loupe clicking up. A mechanic whose war machine was home and whose eyes were wet and whose loupe was fogging. Different tears now. The tears of a woman who was home. Whose captain was alive. Whose war machine was intact.
Mark Jordan was in the driver's seat. His amber eyes on the courtyard. A professor who had been measuring for eight days and was not measuring. Was just home. A man whose brain had been healed by the Healing Hands and whose body was weaker and whose everything was, for one moment, okay.
The strike team dismounted. Jae-min. Ji-yoo. Yue. Gabriel. Mark Jordan. The woman in white. Five people who had gone to the crater and fought the Snake Woman and won and were home.
The snow bikes followed. Paolo. Mei. Chocho. Alessia. Jennifer. Elena Cortez. Six people who had held the crater rim and the field hospital and the comms and the thermal rig and the supply line and were home.
Rico was at the gate. His M4 across his chest. His dark eyes on the convoy. A Colonel who had held the compound for eight days and was seeing his household come home.
Marie was beside him. Her hand on her stomach. Six months. Her black eyes on the convoy. A woman whose family was home.
Hua was behind them. Her crimson hair pulled back. Her hand on her stomach. Three and a half months. Her violet-blue eyes on the convoy. A chef who had been cooking for two hundred and forty-two people and sending thermos containers to a crater rim and was now crying. Again. The tears of a pregnant chef whose family was home.
The compound breathed. The gate closed. The war was over. The household was home.
— • • • —
Day 178. 08:00 hours.
Ground Floor.
The Atrium.
The narra table. The Steinway piano. A room that had been a command center and a supply depot and a field hospital staging area and was now a room. A room with a table and a piano and a household sitting at it.
Jae-min at the head. Alessia beside him. Ji-yoo across. Rico at his right. The wives along the wall. Jennifer. Yue. Hua. Gabriel. Mark Jordan, arms crossed, his amber eyes steady. Mei at her station, Chocho in her lap. Aiko beside Mei. Paolo and the Orgy Five in the corner. Marie in her chair, hand on stomach. Elena Cortez at the thermal console.
And the guests. Commander Reyes. Captain Vasquez. Corporal Reyes. A coalition that had fought a war and was now sitting at a table in a mansion in Forbes Park discussing the cost.
Commander Reyes stood. His notebook in his hand. A commander who had been filling it with names and numbers for eight days and was now going to read the names.
The Atrium went quiet.
"The cost." Reyes offered, his dark eyes on the notebook, his voice flat. A commander who had learned to not feel because feeling was not helping.
"The ridge group deployed two hundred and twelve soldiers to the crater rim on Day 172." Reyes offered, his voice flat. Reading. "The ridge group lost twenty-four soldiers. Seven on Day 175. Four to minions. Three to cold. Seventeen on Day 176. To the wave. Minions. Acid. Constrictors. Cold."
He paused.
"The ridge group has one hundred and eighty-eight soldiers remaining."
The Atrium was silent. A room hearing numbers.
"The names." Reyes offered, low. He turned the page. Not the numbers. The names. Because the numbers were easier. And the names were not.
"Santos. Reyes P. De Leon. Bautista. De Vera. Cruz. Lim. Mendoza. Aguilar. Villanueva. Dela Cruz." Reyes read, his voice flat. "And forty-seven more. Forty-seven names. Forty-seven soldiers. Forty-seven people. Who went to the crater and did not come home."
He closed the notebook.
"Vanguard Six." Vasquez offered, her pale brown eyes on the room, her voice steady. "Vanguard Six deployed twelve soldiers. Eight died in the first weeks. Four survived to the crater. Corporal De Dios. Wounded in action. Bullet through the vest. She is stable. Healing. But out of the fight."
She paused.
"Private Agbayani. Killed in action. Day 176. The wave. Constrictor." Vasquez offered, her voice steady. "Vanguard Six has two soldiers remaining. Captain Vasquez. Corporal Reyes. Two. Of twelve."
The Atrium was silent. A room hearing the cost.
"The compound." Rico rumbled, his dark eyes on the room. "The compound held. No casualties. The compound is intact. The household is intact. The compound lost no one."
"The strike team." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on the room, his voice low. "The strike team is alive. All six. Injured. Healed by the Healing Hands. The Healing Hands have consequences. Aging. Mutation risk. Cellular damage. The strike team is healed but weakened. Not at full capacity."
"The Healing Hands." Alessia offered, her voice clinical. Her blue eyes on the room. Her hands still. "Yue. Gabriel. Mark Jordan. Healed. The cellular damage is present. The aging is present. Months. Maybe a year. Each. The cancer risk is present. For the rest of their lives. The strike team is healed. But the cost is there. In their bodies."
"The war is over." Reyes offered, his dark eyes on the room. "The Snake Woman is dead. The crater is clear. The cavity is dead. The minions are gone. The war is over."
The Atrium exhaled. A room that had been holding its breath for eight days and was now breathing.
Over.
— • • • —
Day 178. 09:30 hours.
The frozen city.
Three kilometers north of Forbes Park.
Sixty-seven of them.
Not an army. Not a faction. Not a group with a name. A horde. Sixty-seven Enhanced who had, for five months, moved through the frozen city like locusts. Eating everything. Taking everything. Breaking everything. And fucking everything.
They were outlaws. Every one of them. Men who had been criminals before the freeze and criminals after. Men who had been nothing before the freeze and were something after. Men who had been regular assholes before the freeze and were Enhanced assholes after. The freeze did not make them what they were. The freeze gave them the power. They chose what to do with it.
And they chose.
They chose to take. To prey. To hunt. Not to survive. To take. From people who could not stop them. From regular humans. From survivors who had food and supplies and warmth. From people who had built something. From people who had shared. From people who had helped. From people who were human.
These men were not human.
They moved south. Through the snow. Through the minus-seventy. Men who did not feel the cold because they were Enhanced. Sixty-seven men who walked through minus-seventy in stolen clothes and bare hands and did not care.
At the front, Big Rex. Seven feet. Three hundred pounds. Enhanced. Superhuman strength. A man who could punch through a wall. And did. Regularly. To get at the food behind it. A man who had, for five months, punched through walls. To eat. To take.
"How far." Big Rex offered, his voice loud. A man who did not whisper. Because whispering was for people who were afraid. And Big Rex was not afraid. Of anything. A man who had been preying on regular humans for five months and had never met anything that could stop him.
"Two kilometers." A man beside him offered. Thin. Fast. Enhanced. Speed. A man who could run at sixty kilometers per hour through the snow. The scout. "The mansion. Forbes Park. Big. Walls. Lights. Thermal exhaust. They have heating. Geothermal, maybe. The compound is active. Been active for days. Lots of movement. Lots of people."
"People." Big Rex offered, his mouth wet. A mouth that was watering. Not just for food. Also for food. But not just.
"How many women." A man behind Big Rex offered. His voice not low. Not quiet. Hungry. A man who was asking about women. Not subtle. Direct. A man who did not pretend about what he wanted.
"I saw them." The scout offered. His voice also not subtle. A man who had scouted the mansion through binoculars from a rooftop. "Eight. Maybe ten. Women. On the walls. At the gate. Inside. One with crimson hair. One with knee-length black hair. One pregnant. Two pregnant, maybe. One in a wheelchair."
"Pregnant." A man behind offered. His voice not low. A man who heard the word pregnant and was not deterred. Was more.
Big Rex laughed. Not because something was funny. Because he could. Because he was big. Because he was Enhanced. Because he was the biggest thing in the frozen city. And nobody stopped him.
"Pregnant or not." Big Rex offered, his voice loud. "A woman is a woman. And a woman is warmth. In minus-seventy. A woman is a hole. A warm hole. And we have been walking for days. And we are cold."
The men behind him laughed. Not all. Most. Sixty-six men laughing at the joke. Men who were also cold. And also hungry. In a way that was not just food.
"We hit the mansion." Big Rex offered, loud. "We kill the men. We take the food. We take the supplies. And we take the women. All of them. The pregnant ones. The crippled one. All of them."
"Fuck them!" A man in the back shouted. A man who was not patient.
"Fuck them!" The horde echoed. Not all. Most. Sixty-seven men shouting about women. A thing that was not human. Was animal.
"The last group was good." A man beside Big Rex offered. His voice not low. A predator remembering. The last group. A cluster of survivors they had found two weeks ago. In a basement. In Makati. Twelve regular humans. Men. Women. Children. A group that had food. And supplies. And warmth. And women. And children.
"The women were tight." Another man offered. Also remembering.
"The children were tighter." The first man offered. His voice not low. Not quiet. Not ashamed. A man saying the thing about children out loud in front of sixty-six other men who were also not ashamed. Sixty-seven men who had, for five months, done things to children and had not felt anything.
Men who were not human. Were pests. The word pest too kind for what they were.
Big Rex laughed. Again. Not because it was funny. Because he could. Because nobody stopped him. Because for five months nobody had stopped him. Nobody had stopped any of them.
Because they were Enhanced. And the people they preyed on were not.
"This mansion." Big Rex offered, loud. "This mansion is the same. Regular humans. With food. With supplies. With warmth. With women. With children, maybe. The same as the last. The same as all of them."
He paused. Not worried. Cocky. A predator who had, for five months, never lost. Never been stopped. Never met anything bigger than him.
"We hit the mansion. We take what we want." Big Rex offered, loud. "Move. Two klicks. Fast. I want to be inside before noon. I want the food. The supplies. The warmth. The women. All of it. Before dark."
The horde moved. South. Sixty-seven Enhanced. Through the snow. Through the minus-seventy. Men who did not feel the cold. Men who did not stop. Men who did not know what was waiting for them.
Sixty-seven men walking toward a mansion in Forbes Park. A mansion that held the void. Oblivion. The Healing Hands. The Black Hell Flame. The dimensional edge. The wind cage. The Blink. A mansion that held a strike team that had just killed a Snake Woman. And a captain who had absorbed a god's essence. And a woman in white who had danced a tango on a battlefield and cried behind goggles and carried three people out of a blender.
The raiders did not know. Men who were cocky. Because they had been, for five months, the biggest thing in the frozen city. And they thought they were still the biggest thing.
They were wrong.
Sixty-seven Enhanced. Moving south. Two kilometers from the mansion. Hungry.
For food.
For supplies.
For warmth.
For women.
For children.
— • • • —
Day 178. 10:00 hours.
Ground Floor.
The Atrium.
Jae-min's spatial awareness was always on.
Not a choice. Not a switch. A passive ability that was always there. A three-kilometer radius that mapped everything. Every heartbeat. Every mass. Every thing within three kilometers.
At 10:00, Jae-min's dark eyes went flat. A captain whose spatial awareness had detected something. Signatures. At the edge of his radius. Three kilometers. North. Moving south.
Jae-min stood. A captain who had detected and was not sitting. Not discussing. Not breathing.
"Jae-min?" Alessia offered, her blue eyes on him. A doctor who had seen her husband stand. A captain who was not okay.
"We have a problem." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on the room, his voice low. "My spatial awareness. Three kilometers north. Multiple signatures. Moving south. Fast. Not scavengers. Not regular humans. Enhanced. The signatures are strong. Powerful. Multiple."
He paused. Counting. Mapping. Each signature.
"Sixty-seven." Jae-min offered, his voice low. "Sixty-seven Enhanced. Moving south. Toward the mansion."
The Atrium went still. A room that had heard. Sixty-seven Enhanced. Not the Snake Woman. Not the war they had just won. A new war.
"Sixty-seven." Rico rumbled, his dark eyes on Jae-min. His M4 in his hands. A Colonel who understood. Sixty-seven Enhanced was a problem.
"Sixty-seven Enhanced," Ji-yoo confirmed, her dark eyes on Jae-min. The void bond humming. A twin who could feel her brother's concern through the bond. Not the signatures. The concern. A twin who could feel her brother was not okay.
"Who are they?" Reyes pressed, his dark eyes on Jae-min. His notebook closed. Not the subject. The subject was the sixty-seven.
"I do not know." Jae-min offered, his voice low. "I have never detected them before. They are not from the area. They are coming from the north. Moving south. Fast. With purpose. Not scavenging. Not wandering. Coming. Toward us."
"Sixty-seven Enhanced." Rico rumbled, his dark eyes on the table. "Moving south. With purpose. In minus-seventy. Enhanced do not freeze. Enhanced do not starve. Enhanced who move in a group of sixty-seven. Through the frozen city. With purpose. Are not survivors. Are not a faction. Are."
He paused. A Colonel who was calculating.
"Are raiders." Rico rumbled, low. "Outlaws. Enhanced who prey on survivors. Who take. Food. Supplies. Warmth."
He paused again. His dark eyes on the wives. On Alessia. On Jennifer. On Yue. On Hua. On Gabriel. On Marie. On Elena Cortez. A Colonel who was looking at the women of his household and was understanding.
"Women." Rico rumbled, low.
The Atrium went cold. Not the Oblivion cold. Not the minus-seventy cold. The cold of a room that had understood. A household that had heard the word. Women. The reason the sixty-seven were coming.
"Fuck." Ji-yoo breathed, her dark eyes fierce. The void bond humming. A twin who had understood. Sixty-seven Enhanced. Raiders. Coming for the compound. Coming for the food. Coming for the supplies. Coming for the warmth. Coming for the women.
Coming for her family.
"How do you know." Reyes pressed, his dark eyes on Rico. "That they are raiders."
"I do not know." Rico offered, his voice low. "I am guessing. Based on what I know. Sixty-seven Enhanced. Moving south. Fast. With purpose. Not scavengers. Scavengers do not move in groups of sixty-seven. Scavengers do not move with purpose. Scavengers do not move toward the only active compound in the area."
He paused.
"Raiders do." Rico rumbled, low. "Raiders move in groups. Raiders move with purpose. Raiders move toward compounds. Because compounds have food. Supplies. Warmth."
He paused again. His dark eyes on the room.
"And women." Rico rumbled, low. "In minus-seventy. Warmth is survival. Body heat. Shared body heat. A person alone freezes. A person with another person lives. And raiders do not share. They take. They take the food. They take the supplies. They take the warmth. They take the women."
"And the children." Vasquez offered, her voice steady. Her pale brown eyes on Rico. The steady of a captain who had been a soldier for fifteen years and had heard about raiders before. In briefings. In reports. In the particular reports that described what raiders did to survivors. To women. To children. "Raiders do not just take women. They take children."
The Atrium was silent. The silence of a room that had heard the word children.
Gabriel's gold eyes went dark. Not flat. Dark. The dark of a woman whose bright was gone. Replaced by something else. The something else of a woman who had heard the word children and was not going to let.
Yue's marble eyes went hard. Harder than before. The hard of a woman who had heard the word children.
Jennifer's icy-blue eyes went wet. Not from sadness. From rage. The rage of a telepath who could feel the room and was feeling.
Hua's hand tightened on her stomach. The tightened of a pregnant chef who was carrying a child and had heard the word children. The hand of a mother. A mother who had heard what raiders did to children. And was not going to let anyone near her child. Near any child.
"They do not know." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on the room. On the wives. On the twin. On the Colonel. A captain who was seeing his household. His family. His everything. And was going to protect it. "They do not know what is in this mansion. They do not know about the void. They do not know about Oblivion. They do not know about the Healing Hands or the Black Hell Flame or the dimensional edge or the wind cage or the Blink. They do not know about the strike team that just killed a Snake Woman."
He paused.
"They do not know they are walking into a mansion full of Enhanced who just won a war." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on the room. "And they are cocky. Because they have been preying on regular humans. Who cannot fight back. And they think we cannot fight back either."
He paused. Ready.
"They are wrong." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on the room. "And they are going to die."
— • • • —
Day 178. 10:15 hours.
Ground Floor.
The Atrium.
The briefing was short. A briefing that did not need to be long. Because the enemy was pests. Not soldiers. Not a faction. Not the Snake Woman. Pests. Sixty-seven Enhanced. Cocky. Coming for food and supplies and warmth and women. And about to die.
"Uncle." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on Rico. "The compound. The perimeter. The gate. The defense. The same as the crater rim. But here. At home."
"The compound holds." Rico rumbled, his M4 in his hands. A Colonel who was not discussing. Was preparing. "LINDA on active scan. Full lockdown. The gate is sealed. The walls are sealed. The compound does not fall."
"The compound does not fall." Marie echoed, her voice soft. Her hand on her stomach. A woman who was six months pregnant and was hearing that the war was not over.
"Strike team." Jae-min pressed, his voice low. "We do not need the full team, we need — ."
He paused. Assessing. The enemy. Sixty-seven Enhanced. Cocky. Not trained. Not soldiers. Pests. Not the Snake Woman. Going to be simple.
"Me." Jae-min offered. "And Ji-yoo. And the woman in white. Three. The same three that killed the Snake Woman. We go out. We meet them. We handle it."
"Copy." Ji-yoo confirmed, her voice fierce. The void bond humming. A twin who was ready. A woman who had heard the word children and was fierce. The fierce of a woman who was going to.
The woman in white nodded. Once. A woman who did not speak and was accepting. A woman who was going to.
"The rest." Jae-min pressed. "Hold the compound. The perimeter. The gate. If any of them get past us, you handle it. But they will not get past us. Three Enhanced who just killed a Snake Woman. Against sixty-seven pests who have been preying on regular humans. This is not a battle."
He paused.
"This is pest control." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on the room.
"Fuck yeah." Paolo breathed, his black eyes wide behind his cracked eyeglasses, his hand on his Sailor Moon doll. A quartermaster who had been shaking for days and was not shaking anymore. A quartermaster who had heard the word pest control and was. Was ready. Was. Something. Was not afraid. For the first time in eight days. Was not afraid. Because the captain was going out. And the captain was going to handle it. And the pests were going to die. And the quartermaster was not afraid.
Sailor Moon watched from the table. Her vinyl smile permanent. Her painted eyes steady. The steady of a doll who had been through the apocalypse and was now watching the captain say pest control and was. Was. Was.
The Atrium heard. A room that was not afraid. Was ready. A household that had fought a war and won and was now fighting another. A war that was not the Snake Woman. Was pests. And pests were going to be controlled.
"They are at two kilometers." Jae-min offered, his dark eyes on the room. His spatial awareness mapping. The sixty-seven. Two kilometers. Moving south. Fast. Cocky. Coming for the mansion. Coming for the food. Coming for the supplies. Coming for the warmth. Coming for the women.
Coming for death.
"They are at two kilometers." Jae-min repeated, his voice low. "And they are dead. They just do not know it yet."
The war was not over. The Snake Woman was dead. But the pests were coming. And the compound was going to hold. And the strike team was going out. And the pests were going to die.
The war was on.