Shouts resounded as overhead speakers old and caked in dust crackled to life. The hustle and bustle consumed the sound before letting it go out in bursts. Soldiers were mobilized as large cleaning crews while at the same time establishing defenses.
As with many a location scattered across the ravaged land of the United States a former military outpost dwelt at the edge of town. It was close in proximity to the towers that were once used as weather and radio stations. A few of the higher ups had sought out rooms for the week there leaving the general populace to their cots and old mattresses.
Concrete made up the bulk of the building with only the front being built out in wood. At one point a failed attempt to make housing. The state had resumed ownership after it defaulted. It was perfect as a staging area for the parade. No base would be close enough to the town to act as a proper rallying point and just as the former base showed they were unneeded.
Mech units were corralled off to the south where they stayed depowered. A small group of masked men worked on tuning and repairs all the while a few soldiers kept watchful eyes. All those involved had long since grown accustomed to the charade but performed nonetheless.
Blake observed them as he stepped inside the rear entrance. Several men worked at repairing the safety doors. If they could clear the rust it might become useful in an emergency. Why they might be having such doubts without the information he carried was plain to see for him. They had been attacked by rogue groups of mages, Necromancers, and Paladins. None had posed a real threat with the mech units and the trained anti-magic units. That said nothing of the Elite Team that traveled with them.
Inside rooms were fumigated, cleaned thoroughly, and then made into accommodations or storage. At the center of the complex a well refurbished home was built that the general was currently using as an office for the staff. The front greeted Blake with a large place mat reading "Welcome Gnome" he didn't find any humor in it.
After the formalities with the make shift front desk, he made his way into the office. General Servantus sat straight but sagged with a slight amount of age. He had been lucky that even late into life he dawned salt and pepper hair not quite going fully white. Only the necessary medals needed hung at his chest. Blake knew that the man had cabinets full from the war.
In spite of his age a fire blazed with his eyes as he watched the man enter. Time might have attacked his body but he fought with all his might. Most of the newer recruits still couldn't keep up with his training regiment, Blake being one who could surpass him if only slightly. If there were ever whispers about his advanced age among the men it never made it far before someone would shut them up.
Blake, as with everyone that spent any time under Servantus' command, had a fierce loyalty and respect for him. Which could not be said for some of the other current generals who were politicking and trying to wield their power over the Swallowed Cities.
A small salute preceded their talk but the old man waved it off before leaning heavily back in his chair. He eyed the strange expression on Blake's face but didn't push him to speak. Instead slowly moving the papers on the make shift work table as he waited.
"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Blake asked.
"Granted you brat. What bad news do you bring me this time?" He asked it jovially but only gave a half smile.
"I wouldn't say bad nor good just news."
"Then say it and I'll judge if you're being a fool." He narrowed his eyes at the younger man before feeling for his pocket. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he placed a pair of glasses on his face.
"I've located another Pseudo-Mancer location, along with signs of recent battle activity."
"Another? We are serving as a partial survey corp. We can have one of the representatives reach out about the changes to come. What of this battle are you certain it's not a remnant from training? The last time we jumped the gun those Witches made coffee taste like rust for a month." Blake shook his head at the man's words.
"I doubt they would use such a public parking lot as a training ground. Furthermore, I could feel medium or high grade magic traces."
"Which was it?"
"I can't say. They were faint, maybe a few days old at most. Someone is covering it up, likely the hospital Mancer. I wouldn't have noticed either if I hadn't visited."
Servantus shuffled another stack of folders before locating one, flipping it open. Scanning down the page he double checked the location and shook his head. It was a list of names, towns or cities, and addresses. Off to the side was a small amount of reference info that would lead to other documents.
"The Council seems to have neglected to tell us of this hospital. How inconvenient."
"If they were working to cover up the damage and not leaving it for the town then that is a positive. If they are of the Mancer faction we can ask for an explanation in regards to not registering their place of operation." Blake replied positively.
"Hah, youth always seeing the bright side. They may not have been contacted for a number of reasons, that much is true. On the other hand they might be an operation that the council would prefer not outed. However, it is as you say, they seem to have some decorum. It's worrying to think that a battle occurred so close to our arrival. Not to mention those buildings crumbling."
"Buildings sir?"
"Here." Servantus passed over a fresh file. It detailed the buildings that had been crushed during the day and residual amounts of magic having been detected all around the location. Obviously another battle had taken place but he wondered when it could have happened. He never heard the buildings collapse.
"It happened around when we arrived, for now the official stance of the mayor's office is that it was an old building that gave out. We backed up their statement implying it might be due to our military arrival."
"I will make sure to reprimand the mech unit later." Blake said sharply.
"Leave those boys be, they have been through far too much to be yelled at for announcing our arrival. In the meantime we'll consider a turf war is occurring. If we can determine the players before the Parade that would be preferable."
"Should we send out our Elite unit to take a look?" Blake's question caused a grimace to pass across the old man's face. Seeing the younger man's look he sighed heavily.
"The called back Pyris. Her unit moved out from the last location toward one of the cities. A monster flood is a higher priority."
"Did we at least get a replacement?" The old man's lips and nose scrunched up as he attempted to keep his breathing in line.
"Instead of that old cranky woman they sent out Noah's squad." The old man was not happy over the matter in the least. To which Blake gave a knowing look.
"I thought you would be overjoyed sir. Weren't you the one always complaining about her nagging? Now we will have to endure the long stretches of dalliance that comes with Noah's Squad. Wonderful no more nagging."
"Don't be cute with me kid. The lout is still lazing around in the last city. Damn, man couldn't even show up for the departure."
"Women, drugs, or fighting this time?" Blake asked.
"Alcohol and his normal squad filling philandering. His newest addition has been giving him shit so he's staying away from meeting with any others right now."
"Some men just can't be tamed it seems." Blake mused.
"Either way he won't be here till tomorrow. At which point I'm placing you in charge of the investigation. You're local so I doubt you'll have as many issues." The General stopped thought for a long moment before giving a warning. " Keep Noah and his people away from any local hot spots. Even those not within his gaggle of women aren't to be underestimated. We can't let the ground work break apart here."
"Yes, Sir." Blake saluted dutifully. Servantus turned away, staring at a screen showing the security cameras set up around the base. A hard look assuming his face. His voice grew tired.
"Not long till the next step comes only a few stops and then the ground work will be over. You have been away but is there a report on the acceptance rate?"
"Yes, Sir. It was delivered during my drive over. We are at a sixty percent dissemination rate, among that reasonable estimates place us in the seventy percent range."
"Then we haven't wasted our time at least. The Spirit ACT will bring in the forces that we'll need for generations to come, that's all we can hope to accomplish. You are dismissed, maybe call your wife while you still have some time on your hands." The General seemed to age thirty years at that moment. Time weighs heavy on his shoulders. Blake did not leave immediately but instead cleared his throat.
"Before I go sir, I am still concerned about my sister. As it may have relevance to the Hospital and the turf war, Noah's help with inquiries about her would be appreciated."
Instead of giving a verbal answer the old man simply grunted in affirmation. Blake had seen this a number of times. The man wasn't dull or broken, he was deep in thought. Coming in at the tail end of such ruminations was always insightful but the start of them was often less so. Still with permission granted, he removed himself from the office. He beelined toward the mech unit, still going to give a light scolding to them.
***
A haze was now constantly over Kent's mind. Even the chains that bound him had loosened. The power within the altar has bleached clean aspects of his personhood. Long periods of time seemed to pass for him, longer then should be occurring, yet faster then he could perceive. An illusion of his damaged existence.
"Hello? Are you a friend of my fathers?" Allison stood in the doorway with a bright smile across her face. Somewhere deep within her eyes he could feel something pulling at him a familiarity.
He attempted to speak to break free from the haze but it was all for not. Everything came out as grumbles or muffled slurred speech. She eyed his motions and sounds with a slight wariness. Seeing him not taking action Allison stepped inside.
It was a useless effort on his part. Nate had found him once, and deep down that was all he held onto. A final string that bound him to conscious thought and resistance. Little that he could impose with his controlled body. The girl, fragile looking as she was, came up to his cage.
"Are you also trapped by something that you can't quite explain?" Allison asked wistfully.
Kent managed a difficult nod of his head. To which the girl's eyes lit up in delight. Seemingly not over the circumstance but that he had been able to reply at all. Inching ever closer she stopped just a hair breath from the cage.
"You can answer me. That's wonderful. My friends Nate and Karah, they used to be the only ones I could talk with. Father has been spending a lot of time on his work these few days. Leonidas says that I should just eat and train. I don't quite get what he means by that but he seems nicer now. Is it ok if I talk with you?" She spoke with a small pout.
He replied with another strained nod. The effort had him sit upon the ground and bringing him down closer to the girl's height. He still towered over her simply sitting there.
"Great!" Allison set about telling him every detail that she could remember from her travel books. Nods became less frequent as his strength was sapped but he found solace in her nonstop talking. Her bubbly energy overflowed as time went on. At a particularly interesting part Kent let out a surprised oooh. That even he didn't realize he could manage.
"Well look at that you can do more then nod or shake your head. But why do you look so in pain? Can I help?" She asked worriedly.
Kent nodded at the altar, the thick veins of energy pulsing slowly into his body. They were weaker now, less of whatever fueled him left in the artifact hidden within. Allison stepped around to look at the thing before shaking her head ruefully. She returned back to her spot on the floor.
"Sorry, Father told me that I can't touch anything that was connected to his story. He says it could taint my power for when he fully activates the anchors. I'm not sure what that means but I don't want to lose him again. I lost so much time with him over the years, but they had taken me from him. That's right they knew, my friends probably knew, or not. Father says they did, that I shouldn't listen to what they said. But how could I not want to remember them? We were going to travel once I was all better." The girl bundled herself into a ball, fingers shaking against her arms.
Kent could feel the influence around her. Whatever had compelled him to follow the orders of his master. It was weaker, no doubt something to do with him being attached to the altar. He looked between her and the artifact that lay just beyond a small crack in the cabinet's doors. She'd said it was an anchor and he believed it with how it weighed down his mind.
It was something. He couldn't be sure what. Back when they were part of the gang he was never the idea guy, he left that to Mandy and Nate. Once his best bro saved him then he could tell him, surely he would know. He grasped onto that straw. Before that moment he only had a small grasp upon himself. At that moment he became aware of what he would have to do. If he was a captive then he would learn everything he could.
Once Nate saved him, he could tell him everything. If that guy was still alive he wouldn't stand a chance at least probably wouldn't stand a chance. A memory drifted lazily in his mind, voices, no, another voice, a woman's voice. Not Allison's, that was right another person had visited. He'd heard them through the door.
He clutched tight to the memory as if at any time the things he learned would leak away with the rest of himself. A deep voice resonated from beyond the door.
"Allison dinner."
"I'll visit again, promise. Uncle Leo will get upset if I don't eat." The girl stood happily staring at her new friend and made her way back inside.
The whole time Kent began to recite what he knew, not just who he was, but what Nate would need. Even if he was to lose parts of himself along the way there was no chance in hell he'd let these few things slip away.
Laying down he huddled against the waves of energy crashing into him polluting his mind. Infecting his body with power. Drifting back into a more stable existence then he had the whole time of his capture.