Bad Blood (Animus Vox)

Down in the valley below, battle lines were forming. On one side, Sesilius’ newly reforged Abominations, who rippled the air around them as they moved. On the other, Guardians, led by the member of the Triumvirate who took to the battlefield the least often. Since Kan’s demise, Bril had resigned themself to a leadership position, even if their strengths and preferences would typically lead them to more covert affairs.

The Guardians were not alone, however. Colonel Osada and a fraction of AOSE forces held the flank, finally putting to use the heavy artillery they’d spent years training with. Remi hadn’t expected Osada to take to the field herself, but the Colonel’s mind was clearly made up: “We buy enough time to get the researchers and families off this planet, and then we can worry about an evac for the rest of us.”

Back at base, of course, the rest of the explorers that Remi had gotten to know were doing everything they could to facilitate that evacuation. Brandy had been pissed when she’d been ordered to stay behind, but was mollified slightly by the heavy turret she was armed with, and the danger she was warned of. And then there was Remi, standing here besides Glitch, feeling incredibly out of his league.

The mountain they stood on dwarfed all other formations in sight, and Remi was sure that he’d learned the official name for it at some point. He supposed that was proof of just how little that style of briefing mattered. After several torturous minutes, their foe finally appeared, warping into existence on the opposite side of the summit.

“It’s so good to finally meet, face to face,” Sesilius’ words oozed with ceremony and grandeur. “I feel like I’ve learned so much about you, Glitch, without ever having spoken to you.” Remi’s eyes darted between the two, trying to discern what sort of history there was here.

“Fascinating,” replied Glitch, “I’d never heard of you before yesterday.” So, that was a firm ‘no’ in terms of history.

“Yes, well, I suppose I hadn’t either,” said Sesilius. “But between the memories I tore from your companion, and the observations I’ve made in the last twenty or so hours, I think I have a fairly firm understanding of who you are.” The tension was growing, and Remi shifted anxiously. Sesilius’ gaze shifted towards Remi, and his brow furrowed. “And yet somehow you never came up.”

“I’m not really an individual of interest,” Remi quipped, “Mostly here for moral support.”

“I don’t particularly believe you.” Sesilius pointed carefully to Remi, to Glitch, and then to himself. “The three of us are connected. Both Glitch and I can tell, and yet you can’t. Why is that?”

Glitch stepped forward, “He does not listen to Animus Vox, he doesn’t understand the role he has to play.”

“Ah, yes, Animus Vox.” Sesilius snorted, a sound that felt incredibly forced to Remi. “I think this will be a very didactic experience for you, Glitch. I want to showcase just how apathetic the universe is to you, and your struggles. It does not care. It is not singing you a song. And your paltry understanding of ‘destiny’ holds you back.” In an instant, he slashed at the air, fingers curled like talons, tearing reality asunder and sending black tendrils across the summit towards Glitch.

Remi reacted without thinking, his right hand suddenly raised up, and his left one gripping the Slyten crystal he’d brought with him as tight as it possibly could. He could feel the ground tremble around him as he threw up a wall of telekinetic force in between the attack and his companion. And it held in the face of Sesilius’ assault. This was the part where he was meant to say something cool, something collected, but his heart was in his throat and adrenaline was shooting through his veins at a hundred miles an hour.

Sesilius looked at him with a rather bemused expression. “You know, I really didn’t expect to see any humans here. I thought the deal we’d made was adequate.”

“Deal?” Remi glanced down to the valley, at the Colonel, whose squadron was now being plunged into the thick of battle against the Abominations. Osada never would have even entertained such a thing.

“I spoke with a man who said very clearly that he would ensure that you’d stay out of my way, on the condition that I’d let all of you live.” Sesilius’ eye began to glow even brighter. “I think my interest in upholding my end of that deal has ended.”

“Remi, get back to base,” Glitch ordered. She didn’t need to tell him twice. He dropped the wall, and dived off of the edge of the mountain, curling into a ball and surrounding himself in a forcefield to roll descend it as fast as he could.

There was only one possibility here. What the fuck had Jasper Felix done?

It was late, and he couldn’t sleep. Jasper sat at his desk, staring at his instruments, and thinking about the conversation he’d had with Remi just a few hours ago. It was unprofessional, and stupid, and potentially created an opportunity for Remi to ask the wrong questions and tell the wrong people. But Jasper was sick of secrecy and obfuscation, at least for their own sakes’. In the decade since Sadie Dal had ascended, the AOSE and BEO had observed a grand total of zero other ascensions, and not for lack of trying. And of course, the only individual other than Dal whose energy signatures matched that level of atypicality was Glitch.

Glitch was the reason why Jasper so regularly couldn’t sleep. With every week, the end of the war drew closer and closer, and the event that the BEO was so afraid of loomed every closer. Eventually, once the Triumvirate no longer had the Abominations to contend with, they’d be idle, with a large active military force, individuals capable of instantaneous travel, and reasons to be angry at a variety of Terrans. Those idle hands would be a devil’s plaything, and Glitch was the largest concern there.

Both Jasper, and Osada, and their respective predecessors, had tried over and over to establish a rapport with the Muse, or at least a mutually beneficial arrangement. It had never gone anywhere. Fundamentally, her goals and way of understanding the world was too alien for them to connect, even more so than the Guardians. Glitch was a wildcard, and her continued presence in this galaxy was an unending source of stress.

The instruments flickered. It was just for a moment, and although Jasper’s heart already was starting to race, he reassured himself that it was more likely a power flux, or a bug in the system, than an actual reading. Although none of the other lights or powered devices had been affected. Then they flickered a second time, and Jasper immediately flipped open the broadwave scanner, and started to do the exact thing he’d practiced a million times. The energy wasn’t coming from inside the compound, which meant that Remi wasn’t the source, thankfully. Killing the kid would really have ruined Jasper’s night.

The secondary energy signatures also didn’t match Glitch or Dal’s readings, which made things far, far more worrying. An entirely new, unaccounted for ascended being. And based on the proximity ratings, they had appeared practically in Jasper’s backyard. Mumbling a curse, he rose, put on a fieldwork suit, and exited the compound.

It was a dark night, with all the stars feeling muted. And yet, sitting on a nearby hill, staring up at the sky, was a robbed figure whose presence felt like it was threatening to drown Jasper. The air around him was darker, denser, and every step forward felt like it was bringing Jasper into a deep, deep dream. Or nightmare.

Not even turning to look at him, the figure spoke: “Could you tell me a bit about this world?”

“I promise you, wherever you’re from is far more interesting,” Jasper gritted his teeth, and mentally reminded himself of how he’d draw his pistol if it came to it. “It might be a good idea to return there.” This wasn’t like him. This wasn’t cool. This wasn’t composed. This wasn’t professional. Why was he cracking?

The figure turned, finally, and stared at Jasper with a single glowing eye. “I think you misunderstand my aim here. This is your opportunity to negotiate, before I start taking matters into my own hands.”

And they talked through the whole night, with Jasper telling Sesilius everything he knew, unable to stop himself, his vision and mind continuing to blur. In return, he got a promise that Sesilius would leave the humans be, in an act of mutual nonaggression, and that Sesilius would make his appearance tomorrow evening, giving Jasper enough time to try to arrange things for the retrieval mission to be done by then.

But that was all he got. Not nearly enough. Sesilius left him with a parting gift, a black mark on the palm of his hand, and an assurance that failure wouldn’t be tolerated. As Jasper watched the man leave, his mind kept playing through the night, trying to figure out why he’d done all of this. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t him.

The speed at which Osada left the briefing room told Jasper that she’d seen the way he’d been looking towards her all throughout the meeting. She walked fast, fast enough that Jasper wouldn’t be able to catch up, if appearances and politeness were a concern. Under the circumstances, however, they were not. Here, he was willing to break into a sprint into the middle of the hallway, just to get to her, just to tap her on the shoulder, just to talk.

“Felix, I don’t have time for red tape,” the Colonel said, quickly rounding the corner. She wasn’t headed to her office, she was headed to the armory. “I’m commanding officer of this base, this is my call to make.”

“You’re not making an informed decision.” He couldn’t question her authority, but he could question her conclusion. “I couldn’t give a damn about red tape, given the circumstances. What I do care about is ensuring that we’re not all going to die because of a chronic need for bravado.”

Osada turned around and slapped him in a single fluid motion. “These are war times. I’m not willing to negotiate with you about this.”

Felix ignored the attack, and focused on trying to talk her through it. “If Sesilius is as powerful as Glitch, we don’t have a fraction of the troops necessary to stop him. And he could very well be more powerful, based on the descriptions.”

“We don’t need to stop him.” She shrugged, a gesture that made Felix’s fist clench tighter. “We just need to buy time to get all non-military personnel off planet.”

“The Guardians can do that themselves. They don’t need us. Did they ask for us?”

She stared back at him in silence.

“That’s what I thought. Bravado. You’re an old soldier that hasn’t had the chance to flex on the battlefield in years, and you’re willing to sacrifice lives to make that happen.” He shook his head. “You were better than that, Colonel. I’d want to believe that you still are.” Part of him considered telling her about the deal, about what she was costing them. But the odds of her listening were incredibly low, even if she believed him. They’d never seen eye to eye on subterfuge, backroom dealings, and the like.

His challenge hung in the air between them, and for a long moment, it looked like she was considering it. Finally, she spoke: “Go home, Jasper. Go back to earth, back to the Bureau, and do what you’re best at. I’m going to stick to what I’m best at, up here.”

And she left him, entering the armory, and immediately starting to bark orders about guns, about secret projects, about all sorts of tools for war.

Unaware that she was killing them all.

Remi was halfway back to base when his phone buzzed. He answered it immediately, and was greeted by the agent’s voice: “So, has it all gone to shit yet?”

“Felix, what did you do?”

“I don’t think I did it. I think someone else did it, while wearing my body. I just stood there and watched it happen.”

Remi cursed, and tried to run even faster.

“It’s starting to happen again, and I can’t stop it. It’s like I’m seeing the world differently, like someone swapped my brain out for a pile of carnivorous sludge.” Jasper’s voice sounded eerily calm, which might’ve been the disassociation. “I’ve been presented with a problem, and asked to find an answer.”

“What’s the problem, Felix?” Remi needed to keep him talking, keep him busy. He’d be at base in only a few more minutes.

“Fuck.” He sighed deeply. “Remi, do you ever feel like you’re a weapon? A tool?”

Should he make a joke? Call Jasper a tool? He had no idea how to navigate this. “Sometimes, yeah. More and more lately. Lots of people talking to me about my destiny, what I’m meant to do from here.”

“Mmm. Sometimes I feel like I’m the oxygen between a cigarette and gasoline.” There was sound in the background, screaming. Gunshots. Remi didn’t say anything, waiting to hear what happened next. He couldn’t do anything else. “Sorry about that,” Jasper finally said, “Think things are finally starting to catch up to me.”

“Jasper,” Remi said, emphasizing the agent’s first name, “This is you. You can stop what’s happening. Even now, you can stop it.”

“I know it should work that way, kid, but it doesn’t.”

Remi could see the compound now. He bent his knees, and leapt, soaring towards it in an arc, looking down into the base from the skylights scattered across the rooftop, trying to figure out where he needed to be. Just a few moments longer. “Jasper, what’s the problem?” He landed on the roof, and held back a scream. Jasper Felix stood next to a mass of explosive charges, looted from the armory, with the corpse of Lysander a few feet away from him. Jasper looked up at Remi, his eyes glowing the same color as Sesilius’.

The world went white, and Remi felt a wave of heat and energy hit his forcefield, and all he could hope was that this only knocked him out.

## Bad Blood (Animus Vox)

### Series

* Animus Vox (set) (previous story) (next story)

### Characters

* Glitch (previous story) (next story)

* Remi Amber (previous story) (next story)

* Sesilius (previous story) (next story)

* Jasper Felix