Hell Off-World

“Theresa! Blaine! Monty!” Amy beamed to see her friends relatively unharmed, albeit covered in alien blood, in two cases. “Can you guys hear me?” She asked uncertainly, waving her hand experimentally.

Although it was nighttime, Amy wasn’t sure if the crew would be able to communicate with her as effectively as Atlas could. On their first night on the planet, the squids had been unable to talk to any of the crew. Sure enough, Theresa looked vaguely in her direction and squinted.

“Amy?” She called out. “We can’t hear you, but don’t worry! The Reapers don’t have to kill you any more!” She turned to Blaine. “Go and find Atlas.”

Amy was torn. She was worried for Atlas health, but she couldn’t help but wonder how they had repaired the portals without tearing her limb from limb. She noticed that, at Monty’s feet, was one of the Comet’s spare fuel tanks, with a shower head crudely welded to the mouth, from which a red liquid was gently dripping. Amy dreaded to think.

Without further hesitation, Amy followed Blaine out of the Spire and towards where Atlas had fallen. Her heart sank as she saw her best friend still lying motionless on the ground. Their eyes rotated slowly under their visor and a buzzing, whirring sound could be heard from their chest, like an over-worked computer.

Blaine collapsed to his knees and ran a data pad over Atlas. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just about see Amy, standing over them worriedly.

“I... I think they’re going to be okay, Amy.” Blaine said, hopefully. “A couple of their processors are broken, but they’re re-allocating processing power, and those nanobot antibody things are working on patching them up. They’re trying to boot up again, but it might take a while... They’ll have to set some time aside later to reattach that arm, too.”

Blaine didn’t know much about robotics or Atlas specifically, but he read the information as it appeared on his data pad. Blaine sighed sadly as he looked over the robotic body. Amy felt bad for Blaine. He and Atlas had never been especially close, so he must have felt terrible kneeling over them in this condition, while their best friend could only look on helplessly.

Amy placed her hand on Blaine’s shoulder, without thinking, which was probably just as well, since if she’d stopped to think first, she would have remembered that she couldn’t touch Blaine, in spite of the fact that right now, she could. Blaine’s head snapped upwards and he looked Amy in the eye. Amy looked back and shared his disbelief.

“Amy!?”

Amy put both hands on Blaine’s shoulder, then down his arms and across his face.

“BLAINE!” She cried.

The two threw their arms around each other and hugged tightly. Amy quickly pushed Blaine off her and turned to Atlas. She knelt down and ran her hand over their faceplate gratefully, gently brushing dirt and grime away from their eyes. With a few more precise twitches, Atlas’ eyes stopped rotating, and the noise in their chest quieted down to a steady hum. Atlas quickly sat up, and realised Amy’s hand was on their visor.

“Amy!” Atlas remarked, gleefully.

While Amy reprised her reunion with Blaine, squeezing Atlas’ metal body tightly, Blaine updated the rest of the crew, and Theresa and Monty came sprinting out of the spire. Theresa collapsed to her knees and, with a tear in her eye, threw her arms around Amy and Atlas, winding the former slightly.

“Amy, I can’t believe... how is this possible!?” She almost wept, joyously.

“I thought you guys did something!” Amy said. “Didn’t you fix the portals somehow? Incidentally, how was that?”

The other four members of the group shared an awkward look. “Well, we heard that the egg needed to be doused in your blood to bring you back, and we had some time on our way over here...” Blaine began.

“... we synthesized about three Amys worth of your blood with the blood template we have in the ship’s medical bay, just like a transfusion.” Atlas finished.

“There was some doubt that it would actually work.” Monty signed, with clear relief on his face.

“But we were told that that alone wouldn’t bring you back...” Atlas elaborated.

“By who?”

Before Amy’s question could be answered, a spine-chilling roar came from the spire. Like some colossal dinosaur’s roar that inexplicably echoed without end. As the group looked over, they cringed to see that a pool of red liquid was seeping from the hole in the building, and the thud of something heavy hitting the ground came from inside. It seemed as though the egg inside had hatched, 4.2 million souls shy.

The group jumped as a deep, course voice sounded from immediately next to them, and they all turned to see the rag-coated immortal from the crystal chamber. “You’re all going to want to run.”

No one in the group seemed inclined to argue, or question the strange turn of events. As the group shot to their feet, Blaine cradled a still mending Atlas in his arms, and Amy picked up their severed limb.

“Towards the ship!” Theresa ordered.

The order wasn’t entirely pointless, since the ship was closer to the spire than they were, and most of the crew felt the need to run as far as they could, in the opposite direction. As they approached the ship, it seemed like that might not have been a terrible idea.

The wall of the spire dented outwards with an ear-splitting bang, followed by a second. On the third crash, a mighty hand with three black, razor-sharp claws burst out. Before the crew ran aboard, the head of something from the pits of hell began to force its way through the gap. It was almost skeletal, save for a thin layer of coarse, black skin, had a long snout with rows upon rows of jagged teeth, glowing balls of green light for eyes, and spiraling horns. It screeched at the crew as they frantically boarded the Comet. Theresa had Atlas lift the ship into the air remotely, propelling it recklessly upwards in a desperate bid to flee for their lives.

The six of them ran into the cockpit, and the Constantines took more stable control of the ship. They swung it around and pointed the nose downwards slightly, so they could see what they were dealing with. The new Destroyer was around thirty feet tall, it stood on two spindly legs each balancing on three black claws, and a long tail. Its back jointed in three places, with which it hunched forwards, it had a second pair of arms, much shorter than the pair with which it had torn through the spire, seeming deformed, since they were too small to serve any purpose, and from its back, were the skeletal structure of what could have been an impressive pair of wings, but thankfully had very little skin on them.

“I don’t understand...” Amy breathed. “I thought the Destroyer couldn’t hatch yet...”

“The creature down there has no soul.”

The group jumped and shouted in alarm as they realised that the immortal Guardian was on the ship with them.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?” Theresa demanded.

“When you killed what you’ve been calling ‘the surrogate destroyer’, you severed the link between the Reapers, and my master. All of the Reapers are now dead. As of that moment, my master’s only chance of sating its hunger for souls would be if the remaining 4,205,915 souls simply walked through the portals of their own accord. As such, it has hatched, a hollow husk of what it could be, it shall not be able to leave this planet.”

“Again, what are you doing here!?” Theresa repeated.

“Sorry, who’s this?” Amy interrupted.

“Amy, Captain Snugglewumps. Captain Snugglewumps, Amy.” Impressively, Theresa was still able to crack jokes and sound furious.

“He’s the monster’s whipping boy.” Blaine explained.

“I was... it’s loyal follower...” The Guardian hissed. “Except now, and do bear in mind that I am immortal, so this is rather more significant, My. Life. Is. Meaningless!”

“Are you honestly trying to make us feel bad for vanquishing an entity that feeds on entire planets and their occupants’ souls!?” Monty asked.

“Guys, can we get back to the matter at hand?” Amy suggested.

“Well as far as I’m concerned, the matter at hand is getting the hell off this planet, now that we’re back together.” Theresa stated, with some relief.

“No wait!” Amy cried, before the ship moved from its stationary position in the air. “There are 800,000 of the planet’s citizens on the other side of the portals. Unless...” She turned to look at the rags covering what was left of the Guardian’s face.

“My master cannot have anything but a complete soul... the locals are still alive, but the pocket dimension is deteriorating. They will be no more within minutes.”

“Theresa, we have to do something!” Amy begged.

Theresa cringed apologetically. “Amy... Even if that thing wasn’t down there... what are we supposed to do?”

“Do whatever you did to get me back!”

“Amy, we fixed the portal so the Reapers would stop trying to kill you, we have no idea how we got you back!”

Every eye in the room slowly made its way to the Guardian. He was silent for several seconds.

“What happened is unprecedented. A soul can only be recovered with seven sacrifices, no one died.”

“Well... didn’t you say the Reapers all died?” Amy asked.

“The Reapers were spread out across the planet, and they don’t have souls...”

Silence resumed.

“I died...” Atlas quietly realised. “My brain functions were entirely suspended after the Vampire Reaper attacked me. I tried to force a faster reboot and failed, arguably, I died at least seven times.”

A hoarse, rasping sound came from the Guardian, which it took the group a few seconds and a collective shudder to realise was laughter. ”You are an appliance. You don’t have a soul either.”

Outrage erupted around the room, especially from Amy, but it was Atlas who delivered the first coherent retort. “Even after all of this nonsense, I am dubious that anything so fantastical as a soul exists, but I can say with some certainty that I am far more justified to call myself a living thing than you are, simply because I am capable of death.” They emphasized their point by thrusting a finger in the Guardian’s direction. “I’m every bit a living thing, but it takes more than death to stop me.”

Before the Guardian could reply, Atlas left the room with purpose, taking their severed arm with them. Amy was quick in pursuit.

“Atlas, what are you doing?” She asked, worried that she already knew.

“To put it in the words of those comic books you enjoy, I’m ‘saving the day.’”

“How? You gonna turn yourself off and on again 5.6 million times?” She asked. “You’ll overheat!”

“Not with this.” Having arrived at their bedroom, Atlas lifted what looked like a bulletproof vest from one of their cabinets. In fact, it was a harness for several additional processors and coolant dispensers. Atlas saved it for emergency situations where they had to operate mentally and physically like never before. This was the first time they’d had to use it.

“Yes with that!” Amy retorted. “How quickly are you planning on getting this done? Even with the vest, it’ll take you hours to reboot that many times without blowing a hole in the back of your head!” Atlas and Amy shared a look, even without looking at an actual face, Amy knew what the look meant. “No! No no no no no! Atlas you can’t!” She insisted.

Atlas placed a hand on Amy’s chest and firmly but gently pushed her back across the room and stepped out the door. The door slid shut before Amy reached it, and Atlas destroyed the opening mechanism with a swift punch.

“Amy it’s fine.” Atlas insisted, over her screams of protest. “You know what happens when I die.”

“That’s not the point!” Amy cried through the door.

Atlas turned to walk down the corridor, only to see Theresa leaning against the wall, with a smirk on her mouth, and sadness in her eyes.

“Am I going to have to lock you in a room, too?” Atlas joked.

“I’d like to see you try.” She grinned.

The two of them made their way to the loading ramp, and the ship slowly descended.

“So... 800,000 lives, eh?” Theresa muttered, as the ramp lowered.

“Not a bad trade for an appliance.”

Theresa placed a hand on Atlas’ remaining shoulder. “Atlas...” She began, but Atlas knew what she was going to say.

“The four of you have been the most compassionate organic life forms I’ve ever met, especially you and Amy... Thank you for treating me like a person for all these years.”

Theresa wiped a tear from her eye. “Alright, let’s not get mushy! We’ve got a monster to kill!”

The ship lowered further, the Destroyer was prowling around underneath them, no matter how Blaine and Monty tried to shake it. While they waited at the ramp, Atlas noticed Theresa had a large, cylindrical power cell strapped to her back, the kind used to power the ship for short periods of time during emergencies.

“What’s that for?” They asked.

“Oh, call it an optimistic leap...” She winked.

A moment later, the Comet hovered over the mighty surrogate carcass, the smell of rotting flesh hit Theresa’s nostrils like a truck. The new Reaper was sniffing at it suspiciously, reluctant to pursue the ship by climbing it. Seeing their opportunity, the duo leapt from the ship and onto the soft, boneless mass of tentacles beneath.

“Okay Blaine, stay low, but out of its range, and keep it busy.”

On her command, a barrage of laser fire rained down on the prowling monster, it howled in pain and leapt through the air, towards the ship. Surprised by its jumping capacity, Blaine and Monty frantically blasted the Comet backwards and upwards. The beast's mighty claws just missed the hull.

“Okay Atlas, get to the Spire and do what you’ve got to do!” Theresa ordered. “I’ll cover you!”

Just as she’d feared. The Destroyer didn’t seem to want to stray far from it egg. As the Comet slowly flew backwards, trying to lead it away, the monster stopped and turned around. It’s blazing green eyes grew and shrank as its focus was returned to Theresa.

The Captain sprinted through the jungle of tentacles and slid down the carcass’ back. The Destroyer had lost all skittishness about its predecessor, as it leapt towards Theresa, tearing tentacles aside in its bloodthirsty pursuit. Even the Comet raining laser fire down on it didn’t seem to discourage it now, since it seemed to have found far more easy prey. Theresa shot backwards on the balls of her feet, while giving the Reaper the full wrath of her duel pistols, reasoning that she had much better accuracy than the Comet did, but wherever she aimed, she seemed to have just as little effect.

As the predatory beast lunged, Theresa shot her grapple to the top of a nearby building and was pulled out of the Reaper’s path, as the monster pursued her, she darted across the roof and dove across the adjacent alleyway, into a neighboring building. But despite her best acrobatics, the Destroyer was an unstoppable force which wouldn’t relent. The floor beneath her crumbled as she darted across the second floor, desperate to keep the monster from turning on Atlas. It didn’t seem likely that saving the citizens would also slay the monster, but Theresa had to hold out hope, if not for that, then for the stroke of luck she had planned ahead for.

Theresa kept running, her plans of so much as stunning the Destroyer with her lasers, abandoned. Eventually, she ran out of buildings. She leapt into a wide street which ran down the city, the massive tentacles which made up the surrogate’s feet were pointed at them, and the spire with the egg in it was a suitable distance away.

She backed away from the monster slowly. Although she had her agility and stamina to thank for the fact that she was still alive, she couldn’t deny that the Destroyer had been slowly gaining on her since they had crossed paths, and she was beginning to tire… Before she could concoct a new plan of escape, she tripped over backwards, and the monster was quickly towering over her, blotting out the dim moonlight. Blaine ceased fire, for fear of hitting his mother.

Theresa flinched as three jet black claws were lifted into the air, but the strike never came. Instead, Theresa heard a sound, like a fizzy drink bottle being opened, and then another, and another. On the seventh occasion, it came from directly next to her, where, with a brief glow of blue flames, a real life squid person materialized on the ground, running their tentacles over themself in disbelief.

The Destroyer threw its head into the air and shrieked. It turned and leapt through the air towards the Spire. Theresa climbed to her feet and uttered a Greywolf profanity. Atlas was in trouble. Although the squids were appearing by the second, they clearly had a long way to go. Before sprinting after the monster, Theresa took a moment to look down at what she had tripped on, and gave an involuntary, triumphant laugh. Atlas needed help, and they would have it.

-x-x-x-

The interior of the spire was a gory sight. The egg had been reduced to a tapestry of mangled skin, hanging from limp strands of flesh, the portals were gone, but the air seemed to shimmer, which could have just as easily been fumes from the rotten meat, as the remains of the portal, and the floor was at least a few inches deep in destroyer blood. Regardless of the state of the portals, Atlas had come with a purpose, and they were going to at least try.

The first thing they had done was set themselves to restart one hundred times, then reactivate fully. It took them just a few seconds, but after which, three squid people were in the chamber with them, and they could sense the heat signatures of more beyond. Without taking the time to explain the situation to their new associates, Atlas initiated the New Day Protocol, and then set themselves to reboot without end… until they overheated, and then even after that…

Every light and feedback output on their body flickered faster and faster until they were just blurred colours. They fell to their knees as squid people fizzled into being all around them, slowly spreading out across the city. No longer conscious, Atlas was oblivious to the sounds of laser fire as the Comet pursued the Destroyer across the city, with Theresa hanging from her grapple beneath, her ace in the hole bundled under her arm.

As a last ditch effort, Blaine fired upon the RG Wyvern’s engines, detonating them and sending the ship sliding across the ground, blocking the hole the Destroyer had made. The rapidly reappearing squid people scattered as the fight made its way towards them. Blaine’s obstruction barely slowed the monster down, it swatted the Wyvern away like it was made of cardboard, and continued inside.

Theresa ordered Blaine to lower the ship slightly and fly directly towards the spire, stopping just shy of hitting it. As the retrothrusters pushed forwards, to prevent a crash, Theresa swung forwards on her cable, and let go, at just the right angle to send her flying through the hole, after the Destroyer. Not without injury, she fell to the floor, her knees buckling beneath her and sending her splayed across the blood-covered ground.

The Destroyer didn’t even spare her a first glance, and continued to advance on Atlas, but that was its downfall. With her muscles screaming, more than a few cuts soaking in alien blood and probably a sprain or two, Theresa heaved up her discovery- the severed crystal turret from the Comet, now connected to the power cell strapped to her back. With a crude slam of her fist, a beam of purple and red light exploded from the end of the weapon, and sent the Destroyer flying across the room and slamming into the opposite wall. Theresa knelt over the gun like an artillery cannon, keeping it trained on the monster’s chest as it struggled to its feet and tried to shield itself with its hand. Theresa lifted the gun just slightly, and seconds later, the Destroyer’s headless corpse collapsed to the ground, with a splash of blood.

As the power cell drained, the laser beam slowly faded into nothingness. Theresa dropped it and, ignoring her many injuries, ran over to Atlas, who had begun twitching and exuding steam from their head.

“Atlas, you can stop now!” She said, quickly. “Atlas it’s over! The Destroyer is dead!”

Atlas couldn’t hear her, of course, and the sound of overworked electronics persisted from within them. One by one, the lights and displays began to pop like bubbles.

“Atlas, power down, that is an order!” Theresa screamed. “We’ve all the time in the world now, you don’t have to do this!”

Theresa could still just about make out the sound of the locals rematerializing, but it was slowing down. Some of them had begun to gravitate towards the spire, and were peering their masked heads around the holes in the wall. Theresa tried to run her hands along Atlas’s plating, hoping to find some manual override, but her hands burnt on impact.

Theresa could only look on helplessly as Atlas began to shudder, their glass visor shattered violently, and plates began erupting off their body as they expanded and the hot air within pushed out. As soon as she saw an opening, Theresa lunged forwards to start mauling Atlas’ body, in the hopes of preserving the CPU in their head, but no sooner had she knowingly burnt her hand on a cluster of cables, did a flash of sparks erupt out of Atlas head, and Theresa’s mechanical crewmate fell forwards, seemingly in slow motion, into the pool of blood on the the floor.

Theresa knelt next to them in silence, in the back of her mind, she could hear the thoughts of the confused and alarmed squid people, but she didn’t question it. After a while, she contacted the Comet.

“Blaine…” She whispered. “Do a scan on heat signatures… How many are there?”

Blaine’s reply came within seconds. “A lot, thousands… hundreds of thousands… more than 800,000, I mean, not a lot more but… I think Atlas did it… They got them all…”

Theresa smiled weakly and ran her hand along the back of Atlas’ rapidly cooling head. “Way to go Atlas…” A tear rolled down her cheek. “You beautiful person, you.”