Spires

Mindanao, Philippines, December 2053

“So, when are you and Kat going to get married?”

“Uh…”

What the heck, Grandma?

As far as non sequiturs went that was up there.

Alin instantly thought about what his grandmother had said to Kat when they had been chatting at the little family gathering a few days ago back in Manila.

Kat hadn’t said anything about it and he hadn’t asked her because he didn’t want to look like a paranoid weirdo, which he was in regards to that topic.

Regardless, this didn’t seem like the right time for his grandmother to be asking that question.

They stood in some muddy ground about half a football field away from the edge of the swamp where the river water pooled in swallow ponds filled with mangroves and such.

One particularly large pond held a sort of ritualized combat exhibition.

“We’re not. I mean, we’re good.”

He watched his grandfather brawl in the muck with a young werecrocodile.

For pushing 90 years old grandpa was still yoked. He had a much younger and swoler man’s body. Only his white hair and the lines on his face hinted at the age.

It was the same with his grandmother minus the swole-ness.

Indeed, grandma only looked about 15 to 20 years older than Madalena, who was his dad’s cousin and close to a decade younger than his dad.

“Go, Crisanna! Get Tito Phillip!” Madalena whooped. “Use bite flip to tail smash!”

“Wait? Whose side are you on?”

“It’s just for fun.” She waved a hand at him dismissively. “Cris was super nervous.”

“Well, she’s not doing too bad.”

The werecrocodile’s fully transformed state was a bipedal monstrosity of green armor plate-like scales and muscle topped by a crushing maw filled with scary-looking teeth. It was hard to gauge her full height since she had a naturally aggressive forward lean to her stance, hunched almost. She looked to be a little taller than his grandfather.

“How old is she?”

He had missed that bit of information in the introduction.

“16 next year,” Madalena said.

Crisanna chomped down around his grandfather’s arm and threw her head back violently.

Maw released.

Tail whipped.

The slap echoed across the mangroves, sending birds flying from the surrounding foliage.

The other crocodile men and women gathered around the pond stomped their feet and slapped the water with great big smiles and cheers.

“What about kids?” his grandma said.

“Errr…”

How to say we don’t want kids? he thought. Without saying the main reasons.

One was because he didn’t want to pass on any fog related issues to the poor kid. Two was because the world was too dangerous. It didn’t seem fair to him to do that to a kid that had no choice in the matter of existence.

Kat was on the same page, particularly with the second concern.

“We don’t want kids just, uh, cause…” He shrugged.

“Maybe now, but you might change your minds and you’re almost 30. It’ll be harder the older she gets.”

“Uh…”

Oh sweet superpowered Jesus! Please, tell me grandma didn’t say this to Kat!

He silently uttered what some might consider a blasphemous prayer.

Not his grandmother though.

She had been desensitized to casual blasphemy by her sons since before the spires.

“Well, we’re not actually close to 30. I just turned 23, remember?”

“Sure, sure, but time flies. Doesn’t it? I remember you were 3 or 4, this high,” his grandmother placed her hand to about her mid thigh. Grandmother was a very short woman. “You always held on so tight because you were so scared of the oceans.”

Madalena snickered.

“There were sea monsters!”

“We killed them first, didn’t we?” Madalena said.

Yes.

That was factually correct.

However, a child should be forgiven for being scared of monsters. Even if his family killed them and his dad or Aunt Rayna made all the blood and guts stay far from the beach.

“Don’t wait too long, Boy,” his grandma said. “You never know if there’ll be a tomorrow.”

“Tita, stop that,” Madalena said.

“Huh? He had noticed a few times over the past couple of weeks that his grandmother had a melancholic look on her face when she thought no one was looking at her.

“I’m just saying we should cherish everyday we have,” his grandma said. “I’m almost 90,” she sighed.

“And what did your last check-up say?” Madalena said.

“That could change at any time,” his grandma said.

“Grandma, you’re like superhumanly healthy. You’re not even close to the end.”

“Well, thank you, Boy. That’s why you’re my favorite grandson.”

“I’m your only one.”

“I know what I said.” His grandma reached up to pat him on the head like always. He leaned down to make it easier for her. “Hmmm… tell me when you’re planning to propose. I have a gold necklace I want to pass down to Kat. It’s been with the family since my great grandfather bought it for my great grandmother.”

“Yes, Grandma,” he sighed.

The crocodile men and women groaned.

His grandfather held the struggling werecrocodile above his head, ignoring her lashing tail as it whipped against his legs and body.

The announcer shouted to 10 and a loud bell was rung.

His grandfather tossed Crisanna into the main body of the river almost a hundred meters away with a laugh.

Alin shuddered.

There were a lot of saltwater crocodiles basking themselves on the river banks. Even the smaller ones looked enormous. At least there weren’t any of the mutated or monstrous analogues. Those were killed on sight.

The crocodile men and women were just ordinary Earthians with classes that let them thrive in the environment. That included making the natural wildlife leave them alone all the way up to controlling the wildlife. Werecrocodiles were a minority. 1 in 50 at the most.

It was a bit of a struggle for them to maintain control of their animal side since it was wild. Not domesticated.

The combat exhibition played a part in that.

His grandfather asserted dominance, which meant they’d listen.

It was mostly for the younger ones.

The ones that hadn’t tested themselves.

“There’s a lot more this year,” Madalena said.

Alin had counted 20 teenagers and young adults gathered in a roped-off circle.

Each would get a turn.

After that the pond was open to all.

Madalena sighed. “I hope that doesn’t mean there’ll be more coming the rest of the week.”

That was right.

She was supposed to trade-off days in the battle pond with his grandfather as contingents from other villages and small towns arrived in Cagayan de Oro from the rest of Mindanao.

As for him, he had another day before his Uncle Eron was supposed to arrive and take him to a few failed ritual sites hidden deep in the island’s rainforest.

“I’d offer to help out, but… you know how it is…”

“Thanks, little Boy!” Madalena tousled his hair. “But we’ve got it covered. You just worry about your little scavenger hunt. Watch out for the aswang. And don’t take anything the tikbalang say personally.”

“Eron won’t let you out of his sight.” His grandmother considered it a moment. “I’ll tell him to stay close to you at all times.”

He decided to remain quiet and nod.

Anything he could’ve said would’ve sounded like a child’s whining.

Tokyo, Japan, January 2054

New year, different location.

The Imperial Palace compound.

Currently vacated because of him.

Well… technically because of his dad.

Nepotism for the win!

He sighed.

So many eyes on him.

Undisguised judgment.

At least Marloes was there to grease the gears, so to speak.

Kat’s presence was also sort of helpful on account of her being a samurai and nobility despite this being only the second time she had step foot in Japan.

It was the nepotism thing again.

The class had eluded her despite her best efforts.

She had been stuck on katana fighter for the longest time. She had picked up the bow, the spear and even horsemanship. She had steeped herself in Bushido.

It hadn’t been enough.

Thus, his dad had used his connection to the Emperor of Japan to ask for information on how they went about getting the class.

The emperor, wanting to curry favor, just straight up gave Kat a noble title including a small home in Tokyo.

Instant samurai.

Nepotism for the win.

There was some concern about conflicts of interest and such, but the emperor assured them that wouldn’t be a problem.

In fact, making her a noble and helping her gain the class was just one small part of what the people of Japan owed his dad.

Nope, there were definitely no other ulterior motives.

Oh, by the way… when are you two getting married? Are children in your future? They’d inherit your title, just so you know.

The JSDF general looked like he was chewing a handful of glass named ‘Alin’. The old man was the definition of grizzled. “The Imperial Palace is yours. Don’t break anything.” He turned on his heel and strode to a waiting armored truck.

“Who are you? And how’d you make him be so nice?”

A mahou shoujo standing next to Marloes practically vibrated.

From excitement or fear?

He didn’t know because he wasn’t releasing the gray until he was alone on the Imperial Palace grounds.

Dashing Bandit Celebration, that was her mahou shoujo name, had full Threnium armor custom made to resemble her old mahou shoujo uniform complete with a masked tanuki-like faceplate with ears on top of the helmet.

He vaguely remembered the fabricators discussing the unnecessary expenditure of Threnium compared to the standard streamlined helmet and flatter faceplate.

The faceplate slid up to reveal a smiling Japanese woman a handful of years younger than him wearing a black domino mask.

He knew that the mahou shoujo wore elements of her class uniform underneath the Threnium because it provided benefits the armor didn’t.

Marloes had explained it once.

“The super team is ready to assist in any way needed, Boy-kun!” Dashing Bandit Celebration saluted.

Her supertanuki plushies copied her.

Yup.

Just as weird as his uncle had said.

He recognized them all from the ancient movies his dad loved.

Except for one.

A new addition?

The plushie wasn’t wearing red and blue or red and gold or just red or had a red cape or a hammer. It had a simply black bodysuit on and nothing else.

He wondered if his uncle knew.

Kat giggled.

Marloes sighed. “Remember the briefing…”

“Of course, of course! But, if Boy-kun—”

“The. Briefing.” Marloes said flatly.

Alin regarded the street and the rooftops.

They were filled with a motley assortment of JSDF soldiers and teams of varying degrees of independence.

From young boys and girls to old men and women.

They wore colorful costumes that seemed to bare too much skin for combat. They wore armor that shined like glossy plastic. They held ridiculously over-sized weapons of many types from their culture. There was a giant robot.

They all stared at him with judgment in their eyes.

Probably, also upset about the whole emptying the Imperial Palace thing. They were undoubtedly worried that he was going to bring trouble to the city and people they protected.

Which was fair.

He glanced to the sky.

The R.S. Raynagon loomed, casting a large shadow.

Somewhere higher a second skyship, the R.S. Spirit of Rayna waited. Normally, she would’ve already been on her way to her next stop, but she waited for them.

The JSDF lacked skyships despite having been given several chests worth of float stones a few years ago as part of the loose alliance. They had rather come up with their own designs than copy the rangers. Their first attempt had been to retrofit one of their old destroyers, but what had been built to sail the seas couldn’t do the same in the sky despite all the tricks their engineers and magic users had tried due to structural integrity issues. Fixing those hadn’t proved cost effective.

Marloes shooed everyone away from him and Kat.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“The kekkaishi will put up a barrier around the compound. I argued against this,” Marloes said.

“It’s fine. Safer. Just in case.”

“And he’s watching from… somewhere?”

“Yeah.”

His dad had spoken to him briefly in his mind.

Close enough to help in an emergency. Close enough to deter demigod interference, if Suiteonemiades was even aware of what he was about to try.

But, far enough that his hand wasn’t being held like a child.

That was important.

If he wanted his dad to green-light his plan then he had to show he could operate without his dad looking over his literal and figurative shoulder.

“Boy, you better bail the second you feel something off, okay?” Kat said.

“I will.”

She kissed him.

The judging eyes of his watchers felt like they judged harder.

“Don’t worry.” He smiled.

Boot jets and microthrusters carried him over the canal and into the Imperial Palace compound.

Shanghai, China, January 2054

Specifically, one of the small, abandoned islands off the coast.

“How did you get them to agree to this?” Haruo Tezuka said.

Cal shrugged. “I gave them stuff and I killed a thing for each of them that had been a bad match up. Styles make fights, you know?”

“Yes, Cruces-san.”

“To be fair I’ve given stuff to your government too and even more stuff to your independents.”

“Yes. They aren’t happy about that last part.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care if your government wants to control the doling out of goodies to keep all the ‘disrespectful’ young people in line.”

“Their recruiting has, coincidentally, taken a small hit lately.”

“They just have to make it worth it.”

“I am indifferent to all of it.”

“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you.”

“My body has healed. It’s my mind that… I’m working on it.”

A few years of torture wasn’t something a person could simply shrug off.

Haruo had emerged physically stronger from the experience, but as a normal person, he didn’t think that worth the trade off. Nightmares continued to plague the man. And it took so much effort to work through the multitude of seemingly random things he could encounter as part of a normal day that could trigger the waking versions of those nightmares. Consequently, he continued to sleep in an isolated and shielded chamber to protect the outside world from uncontrolled radiation discharges. And he limited his time in populated areas. Only really going out to fight the worst types of monsters and outworld invaders far from other people.

Strength at all costs didn’t truly work in the vast majority of real world scenarios.

“Patience,” Cal said. “Progress isn’t linear, but you have plenty of time.”

“That’s what my therapist says. And I believe him. I might have thought otherwise when the spires first appeared, but I can’t deny it anymore. I’m going to have to live a long time unless something stronger gets me.”

Cal didn’t say anything to that. He wasn’t Haruo’s therapist. He knew that the therapist was already aware of that longing tone creeping into Haruo’s words when discussing mortality.

“It’s quiet,” Haruo said.

They were alone on the tiny island.

Just the wind and the waves.

No monsters because Cal had killed them all with a thought on their approach.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” Haruo stared into the dark sky. “So many stars.”

There were a few lights to the west on the shoreline of Shanghai.

Cal imagined that it looked like a tiny flickering candle flame next to the blazing bonfire that he would’ve seen in the pre-spires days.

Had he had normal human eyes he would’ve missed the small lights in the larger island between them and the mainland.

“We’ll let them take a bit longer to look at us.”

“Why? This meeting has been arranged beforehand.”

“It’s a pride thing. They’ll feel more confident if their spells, Skills and tech can see us. Less tension for the meeting is good.”

“And the Koreans?”

“They’re going to be fashionably late.”

“You know, my government was unhappy with you that you didn’t include them.”

“Me?”

“Well… they weren’t pleased that you allowed the hot woman to dictate terms.”

“‘Hot woman’?”

“I refuse to call her ‘Phoenix Empress’. Since she’s too good to share her real name then she’s the ‘hot woman’.”

“That’s fair. I wouldn’t ask you to be friendly to someone that called you ‘subhuman trash’ at one point.”

“I remember distinctly that it was ‘subhuman filth not fit to lick even your dog emperor’s excrement encrusted paws’.”

“I wasn’t there, but I heard you laughed at her when she asked you out.”

Haruo snorted. “Is that what some people say? She demanded I jerk off into a cup. Said it would be an honor for me.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let this meeting stray into that sort of bullshit.” He eyed the clock in his glasses before taking it off. Recording said meeting was off the table. He had promised. Besides, he could review his memory as many times as he wanted if it became necessary. “I think they’ve had long enough. Would you mind sending a signal?”

Haruo stilled.

“Just a little puff of that atomic breath straight into the sky. A split-second should be enough. Don’t worry. The radiation won’t be an issue and I’ll take care of it if it becomes one.”

“You have a flare or something in that bag of holding.” Haruo pointed out accurately.

“Sure, but some people might need a reminder. It’s unfortunate, but strength still buys respect. Actually, more these days.”

“Okay…” Haruo took a deep breath. Then several more.

Cal kept quiet.

No need to prod and rush the man.

Minutes passed before Haruo threw his head back and spat the smallest bit of atomic breath he was capable off.

The blue-white flash blinded.

As promised Cal kept the radiation contained until it passed the clouds and dispersed into the troposphere.

Not that it had been necessary.

“Nicely done. Good control.”

Haruo’s eyes were wide as he breathed in deep gasps.

Not a physical issue, but a mental one.

“Just keep breathing. Find that center and focus.”

An answering flare erupted from the other island.

A column of plasma burned air in the shape of a bird.

“How much time do I have? I can’t let her see me like this.”

Weak.

That was what Haruo thought, what the Phoenix Empress would think.

Cal didn’t. “Don’t worry about it. She won’t notice anything off.” He refused to elaborate.

The empress’ flight across the dark ocean took a few minutes when she could’ve done it in a second or two.

Undoubtedly to force them to gaze at her burning majesty as she shaped her aura into the shape of the eponymous phoenix of myth.

The fire vanished abruptly as she landed a short distance away from them.

Imperious eyes narrowed.

“He isn’t here yet?”

“Sorry, looks like you got out fashionably lated.”

Of course, Cal already knew that. He had picked up on the iceberg submarine submerged a few hundred meters off the island’s eastern coast long before he and Haruo had descended.

Not that he’d tell her that.

It served his purpose to have her irritation spread out rather than focused on him.

“I’m sure he’s almost here.”

The submarine breached like a hungry shark.

A figure emerged, leaping into the sky.

A slide made of ice crystallized from the abundant moisture in the air beneath the man’s bare feet.

“Slow,” the Phoenix Empress muttered.

Slow, but stylish.

Much like the empress, the man didn’t go by his real name.

Indeed, only a handful of people still knew it and when they passed it would be lost to history.

Unless Cal decided to write it down or tell others, but that was a dick move. He wouldn’t do it unless the ‘Unkillable Cryonic God Emperor’ dicked him over first.

Yeah, the man had been an edgelord shut-in back in his teen years when the spires had appeared and changed his life’s trajectory.

The name he had given himself stuck. Fortunately, the attitude had not.

Still, the three polities weren’t friendly.

Conflict in the form of skirmishes over the years built bad blood.

Only Cal’s loose involvement and the challenges brought about by the Terminus Decree and the Bountiful Decade had cooled down the animosity.

“Cryonic,” Cal nodded.

There was no way all those words were ever going to come out of his mouth.

The man nodded.

There was a slight sheen to his pale skin and black hair.

An impossibly thin and strong layer of ice so clear that it was hard to spot even with superior than baseline Earthian vision.

Young in appearance.

They all were.

Physical looks decades younger than their chronological ages.

Some, like the empress and Cryonic, clearly loved that fact. Unlike Haruo, who grappled with the existential questions that the other two didn’t.

Cal’s views tended to lean with the Japanese man’s even if his mental powers insulated him from those questions.

What happened to a functionally immortal person’s memories as the centuries turned into millennia?

Would it be the same for a superhuman Earthian as it was for the High, the eidolons and demigods? Or would they eventually forget earlier memories? Where was the line?

How could one accept that friends and loved ones would pass from both life and memory?

History.

One answer lay in preserving said memories.

He made a mental note to get some people on creating a method to save memories. He’d have to be heavily involved. Another plate to spin.

“You floated your little ice cube into my territorial waters,” the Phoenix Empress said.

Cryonic’s eyes flicked over to Cal for a split-second. “I was invited.”

The air around the empress shimmered with invisible heat.

Cal cleared his throat. “Thank you to everyone for coming at my request. Special thanks to the empress for agreeing to host.”

Technically, she had been the only one to refuse every single one of his suggestions for a neutral site including a skyship, a temporary platform in the middle of the ocean equidistant from their three nations and literally any other location on the planet that was mostly safe.

“The Phoenix Dynasty is gracious beyond compare,” she said. “We are honored to host such a powerful and august assemblage.”

Cryonic rolled his eyes. “Great, yeah, thanks. How about we get to the point, yeah? I don’t know about you, but I’m busy.” He regarded Cal. “So, what do you want from me?”

The empress bit back a retort and settled on an imperious gaze at the three men as she regarded them like simple swine beneath her nose. “Yes, we are in agreement with our lesser cousin.”

Cryonic chuckled. “We’re not cousins, ‘cousin’.” He eyed Haruo. “You look terrible. I guess those rumors were true. The question is how many of them?”

“All of them,” Haruo grunted.

Cryonic’s brows raised. “In that case, my condolences. I guess I owe you a bigger debt, Cruces, for warning me about that ritual thing. Which is why I’m even here in the first place. However, I really am busy. Wars don’t fight themselves.”

“Having issues?” Cal said.

“It’s a little annoying how you can pretend with all apparent sincerity that you actually don’t already know even more things than whatever you get from your spy satellites and Omninet,” Cryonic said. “It’s hard to keep things quiet when my people just love recording and posting everything while you keep us from censoring things that should be censored. Takes me back to the old social media days. You know, that was one thing I didn’t miss.”

“If it’s any consolation, no one is making any sort of profit on anyone’s data.”

“Yeah. The Omninet and the spires marketplace. No more middleman. The old capitalists are very unhappy, but they’re a dying breed. Just a few 90 year old businessmen and CEO’s clinging with brittle fingernails to a long dead dream.” Cryonic laughed. “Huh? I guess I might owe you an even bigger debt for giving me their sweet, sweet tears.”

“Sure. Then I guess you’re at least not going to complain about what I’m about to say?”

“I can do that,” Cryonic said.

“I didn’t come here for pointless socialization,” the empress said. “The next words out of your mouth better be the reason you prostrated yourself at my feet to gain my largesse.”

“Have you three had the chance to review the footage of my fight with the demigods?”

They had.

He hadn’t edited it to conceal his abilities because what the satellites and drones managed to record wasn’t half of what he had used.

It was important that they understood what a demigod was capable of.

“Could you have done the same?”

Three sets of eyes glanced at each other with mutual enmity and suspicion.

“You don’t have to answer that. I’m sure you’ve thought about it. Shared the footage with your tacticians and strategists. Come up with a game plan.” He let them mull that over for a moment. “I’ve learned a few important things about the pantheon’s potential plans and I’m willing to share it… for a purpose and a price. A simple promise in good faith. I’m not going to require magically binding oaths or Skill-enforced contracts because I don’t believe there is any Earthian powerful enough to enforce them at the magnitude required.”

“I owe you.” Haruo shrugged. “So, as long as it doesn’t mess with the people I’m supposed to protect then I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks, dude, appreciate it… but you’ll want to hear me out first.”