Spectre of the Sinner - Chapter 1 part 5: An unexpected disaster

Soon enough, we also learned why they trembled at the sight of their allies. A humanoid abomination, whose height easily reached just short of the frame of the armored bulkhead of a door. Stomping its log-like leg down the floor, the abomination started to beat its chest while letting out an ear-shattering roar, announcing its grand entrance into the party. I almost chuckled at the sight of the big wigs, now whimpering in a corner of the underground space, cursing themselves for their rotten luck.

The instant I caught its eyes as I aimed my buzzsaw at it, the spine of my fatigue got further drenched in a cold sweat. The abomination’s labored breathing soon picked up the pace as its pupil, a grotesque amalgam of an irregularly shaped mess of bloodied black mass, licked over my being like a predator eyeing its prey.

Ever heard of the phrase “deer in the headlights”? Because at that moment, I, no, our unit felt the intense pressure emanating from that cursed being. No doubt, we all instinctively understood that even with all the gears we currently had with us, bringing it down was a tall order, to say the least.

“Leave that son of a bitch to me,” a radio transmission from my vriend reached my headset, “make sure that the [Sanchez’s Gate] is captured intact. Oh, and those rats too. Seems that today we got a big haul here. Other than them then… take no prisoner.”

A couple of tennis ball-sized fireballs furiously slammed into the monstrosity’s broadside, forcing out a deafening rumble from the monster’s jaws, which had the side effect of drowning out my curiosity. As its back turned away from us, we also sprang into action, not wasting any precious moments. After all, we all had the pride of being the best of the bests, and we wouldn’t let the other side undo us first. Besides, I hoped that I could force out the answer from the man himself once this mess was dealt with. Probably.

Intermittent streams of tracers, packets of grenades, red hot fireballs, wicked bolts of lightning, and gusts of wind were thrown at each other, with destructive and deadly results. Fortunately for us that as we had already thinned their ranks considerably beforehand, thus the effect of their bite was reduced substantially. The human opposition was soon crushed under the overwhelming weight of lead, explosives, and magical spells that our unit unleashed upon them.

Normally it would be the end of the active combat phase of this operation, yet the appearance of this abomination now took our attention as well. And another piece of bad news that we now had to grapple with was that we were now running low on ammunition, and our wands’ battery was depleted, which was not helped by the fact that our commander was busy engaging that monstrosity in a duel to the death. And that’s not to mention that some of us were lightly wounded, and now we had to deal with those annoying big wigs.

Another rumble shook the underground space, revealing the intensity of the duel ongoing right in front of our spectating gaze. Our commander deftly avoided yet another assault from the abomination by jumping high overhead, not forgetting to leave a parting gift of a rhino-sized fireball and a burst of an automatic firearm. The rather distinctive brass shower showed that he was using the Czech golden shower, which while it was a bit lacking punching power, the insane ROF was its main selling point.

“Those who can still fight, secure the device! The others evacuate the wounded and the prisoners! I’ll contact the regulars for support!”

Not wanting to waste time, I decided to speed up the progress. As I moved to secure the big fishes, I also aimed a few bursts of thirty-aught six toward the monstrosity, timing the trigger with my vriend’s movement in the vain hope of at least damaging the monstrosity somehow. As for his part, so far it seemed that while he wasn’t hurt in the slightest, the amount of damage he had inflicted on the abomination was still not enough to kill it outright. Not to mention that the number of magical attacks was also drastically reduced, thus reducing the effectiveness of his bites.

Just as the situation was about to be tipped in favor of the monster, my vriend suddenly stopped dead on the track. Ignoring the monster’s incoming swing, the lone cyborg commando instead solemnly genuflected while putting away his sidearm. The other members of the unit with me already noticed the unusual action. And yet, I sternly stopped them from moving an inch from their position despite the protests, thus it was natural that I received indignant stares from my comrades. Look, I’m a human too, and right now I was exercising utmost control to rush in to do something about that monstrosity, praying that he had an ace ready to deploy at his leisure.

At the very last moment, a bright light glowed from underneath the abomination, followed by a sudden outburst of metallic chains erupting from the floor. One of the chains swiftly intercepted the blow by forcefully pushing the monster’s fist away from our vriend, while the rest slithered their way around the monster’s frame, restricting it completely.

Even when observed from its rear quarter, I instinctively understood the kind of situation that the monstrosity found itself walking into. With every attempt made to free itself from the bindings, the chains constricted it further. With every breathing cycle that the monster attempted, the death grip tightened further, dyeing the abomination with a paler color as each moment passed by. A chilly sense of uneasiness crept through my being, forcing out an involuntary gasp from my mouth as I watched the abomination struggle against the judgment that my vriend had pronounced upon it.

Just as the executioner lightly leaped upon the dying beast to finish his job, a loud rumble from the mechanical contraption of Hell grabbed our attention. Ominous darkened lightning bolts continuously danced around the air, threatening to strike us even though we were a decent distance away from it. The contraption itself was shaking furiously, wanting to end its miserable job of being a vessel for whatever dark arts its masters were performing. But what was more worrisome was the state of the energy ball itself: a mass of increasingly unstable vortex of unholy energy, emitting the beforementioned lightning bolts like a deadly disco ball. Every sane person would have already been evacuated long ago from the sight of mess, and yet there we are, trying to secure this unholy contraption that the enemy side was forced to leave behind.

“Mate, before you shoo out the clowns here”, I hurriedly grab the chance to throw a question at my vriend, “what in the fucking Hell is [Sanchez’s Gate]?”

Even underneath his skull-patterned ballistic mask, I could already make out his rather interesting reaction to my question. Damn it you bastard, what the Hell you’re still hiding from us here?

Knowing that the clock was ticking, he decided to carefully spin the truth out while not hiding his negative thoughts. Man, you’re quite a handful here. Don’t make this little old me want to beat your arse there, I glared at him to convey my deepest feelings as I followed my comrades in herding the prisoners toward the still-opened bulkhead door.

“Based on the kind of magic that those fucking bastards employed, and with the formula of that fucking mess,” he pointed the bird at the contraption in utter disgust, “it seemed that they’re thinking about creating a gate to another world.”

The last 4 words caught everyone’s attention, regardless of their affiliation. Gasps of astonishment mixed with the sound of groans of a dying monster, sparking lightning, and vibrating metallic structures made a rather interesting piece of BGM.

“Wait… how did you… figure out about our… purpose?”

The crowd steered away, revealing a man in a somewhat disheveled scientist-like coat. Trying to squeeze the question out of his shaken body, the man stepped forward toward my vriend, one step at a time. Including my nearly dry buzzsaw, over two dozen firearms of various calibers were warily trained upon him, grinding his feverish state to a halt.

“Stand down, stand down guys.”

He calmly signaled us to lower our weapons while he was planting his talismans around the contraption’s premise, ignoring a near miss from one of the many dark bolts. The frail-looking man’s facial color was restored as we slowly lowered our weapons.

“Before I answer about that… I’ll be frank here.”

As soon as my vriend rolled those words out, we the veteran members of our unit immediately offered the man a pitying gaze. Puzzled by the strange atmosphere, both the newer members of our unit and the escorted prisoners could only speculate about what would the resident expert on these matters could offer to teach these amateurs.

“Look at those inscriptions engraved on those arches,” he pointed at the now heavily twisted metal arches, “if they’re not magic inscriptions related to [Sanchez’s Theory of Interdimensional Travel] then what the hell they are?”

Now that’s the first time that I’ve heard about whatever theory there, color me surprised. Just as everyone was trying to make sense of what my vriend had just spilled, the inscriptions shone brightly, temporarily blinding the congregation.

“And then look at this fucking sorry piece of junk here. Sure, I commend you guys for being able to pull this feat off when others had failed before. And yet if you call that thing your genius attempts in magical engineering… then clearly you’re way over your damn feeble head,” the expert slowly shook his head horizontally in utter disappointment as he dressed down the team behind this cursed project from hell, “and now I have to fucking clear this fucking mess. Before I have to let my druziya drag your sorry arses out of here…”

He suddenly leaped forward, landing just inches away from the head scientist’s face. The poor guy understandably fell on his buttocks, squeezing out a pitiful squeal. Seeing that their fellow man was treated like that, a wave of agitation and rebellion enveloped the well-dressed prisoners, forcing us to point the muzzles of our boomsticks at them.

“What… do you… want…”

Like a classic large-framed Disney villain, our commander swiftly moved in, used his left arm to grab the poor guy by the collar of his shirt, and lifted him upward. Astonished by the abruptness of the situation, the group of prisoners’ drive to resist faltered through, easing our job a bit.

“Name. Name of the guy who taught you guys about this. And if possible… who started this whole mess named magical warfare in the first place.”

Just as the poor project’s head was about to spill the bean, a thundering roar from the unholy mechanism disrupted the interrogator’s balance, forcing him to drop his poor prey onto the floor. A loud annoyed click could be heard from him, as he turned around to assess the situation.
Even the phrase “wrecked beyond recognition” was still insufficient to describe the state of the contraption. Only traces of the machine remained after the explosion, with the mass of energy now growing its already immense size. Sparks of darkened lightning danced with utmost recklessness, with occasional bolts struck near our positions. Some of the prisoners, frightened by the unfolding scene before their eyes, started to either sob or scream incoherently.

“Evacuate every damn soul from this fucking pit of odiousness. I’ll do something about this piece of shit.”

The commanding operative finished planting his talismans onto the ground as he issued the order. Noticing the determined gaze behind the goggles, I could only silently offer a solemn nod. Turning toward my subordinates, I made the call while swallowing my boiling emotions.

“[Eagle Nest], [Bloodhound Zero Two], over.”

“Go ahead [Bloodhound Zero Two], over.”

“Priority evacuation of all personnel from site [Uniform Lima]. I say again, priority evacuation of all personnel from site [Uniform Lima].”

“Wilco, over.”

“Roger, out.”

With the evacuation order given out, I turned my head one last time to check up on my vriend.

Amidst the apocalyptic scene of disintegration and destruction, sat the figure of a man in the lotus position. While one could be forgiven for thinking that he had given up on doing anything, in reality, he was concentrating on fixing the problem that the enemy had created, like a diligent street sweeper doing his job at the end of a wild party. The litany chanted in the unknown language strangely reached my ears despite the thunderous roars of the out-of-control mass of energy, carrying a serene sense into our souls. Even the rest of the formation, pretty far at the end of the hallway, also couldn’t resist the urge to collectively turn their head toward the scene and admire the serene sight in front of their eyes.
The ground around the mass of energy abruptly shone intensely as the ball expanded its size, blinding our eyes. Then a deafening explosion erupted, knocking all of us into unconsciousness.