#EspecialNavideño2015 - DÍA 18

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DÍA 18

LA MÁQUINA M

METRÓPOLIS - PARTE 2

CAPÍTULO 5

REGODEO

Metropolis, city of dreams.

If you could do it, if you could shake off the suffocating drudgery of the Line and rise up into the air to view the city from above, it wouldn't look so different than before. Lights still glimmered; edges still gleamed sharp. Even if you spun in the air, arms outstretched, and swan-dove back down to the ground, you'd have to get quite close before you saw the scorch marks, the blown-open doors, broken windows and scattered debris that marked a territory at war. If you did get that close, your last thoughts before your death by high-impact collision might be... it looks much nicer this way.

* * * *

"THOSE WHO WISH TO RE-ENTER THE FACILITY MAY DO SO NOW, SINGLE FILE. YOU WILL BE SAFE IF YOU REMAIN CALM AND ENTER VIA THE MAIN ENTRANCE."

Lying flat against the dented metal surface of Milo's back, Seff snorted. Milo rolled his eyes in agreement as he watched an unfortunate Black Mask disappear under a swarm of Line Workers, whose murderous fury was palpable even from their high-up hiding spot. Those who wished to re-enter the facility probably wouldn't have nearly blown it up just to get out.

The rooftop was high enough that Milo didn't worry about being spotted, and lying prone with his face jutting just over the edge, it was a good vantage point for observation. The Kids had tried to bully him into the conflict zone the second they'd surfaced from the tunnels, but while the idea of stomping and rending his way through a throng of Black Masks grew more appealing with each Citizen they brought down, Milo wasn't as confident in his invulnerability as his gang of scrubby architects. He'd scouted a safe haven immediately and started climbing, Kids following even as they hurled insults and tried futilely to make him obey. Eventually he'd convinced them a little strategic planning wouldn't hurt. And besides, he'd pointed out, he might survive a direct assault on the City Guard, but the rest of them would absolutely be eaten by Dogs.

And speaking of... Milo cringed as the unmistakable metallic jingling reached his ears and a herd of sleek, armored quadrupeds came tearing out across the open square. They set upon the struggling Liners with swift efficiency, and whatever momentary advantage the CItizens had enjoyed was lost. The Dogs. They were more frightening than the Guard, with their animal viciousness. They had to be machines, but they bit like they were starving, and when they barked it sounded like a trash can hitting a window. It was the Dogs more than anything that kept Milo hesitant. There was no way he'd let these Kids, gross and creepy though they were, follow him into that kind of danger. Though he was a little worried if he kept up the "observing" much longer, they'd start throwing themselves off the roof out of boredom.

True to form, there was shuffling and bickering behind him and then the sound of something metal being wrenched out of place. Milo looked over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he said irritably. The three Kids yanking savagely at the intricate contents of a circuit box they'd pried open glanced guiltily at Milo for all of half a second and then immediately went back to what they were doing. "What are they doing?" Milo craned his neck to ask Seff, who was watching them with a considering look.

"That's Power Grid access," he said, cocking his head. "Or like, it is if you-- yeah they already-- no but you guys--" Seff sprang from his perch and scrambled back to join the others, fingers already twitching. Milo left them to their frantic huddle and turned his attention back to the fighting below. The Liners left standing were split up in two groups, one cornered by Black Masks, the other by Dogs. Backs against walls as the City Guard advanced. He closed his eyes. What could he possibly--

Seff ran over Milo's back with a series of hollow clanks and jumped down beside him into a crouch. "Check it out," he said, grey, cracked grin blooming huge on his face. Before Milo could raise an eyebrow in question, one of the Dogs was hit by lightning and exploded.

A cheer rang out from the Kids and Seff howled with laughter, rolling over on his back and kicking. Milo's mouth dropped open. "Wha--" he started, but there was a high-pitched "Ready ready readeeee--go!" from behind him and another Dog popped like a blossom bursting open. "How are you guys doing that?!"

Seff's eyes were dancing. "We're just overloading those flood wires, over there," he flung an arm out, indicating a thick twist of sparking lines stretching over the length of the square. There was some anticipatory giggling, and Milo watched astonished as another Dog passed under the wires and a crackling strand of light slapped down on it like a frog's tongue. Another victory cheer, and Milo shook his head. Seff pounded on his shoulder plate in manic glee.

"This is a good hiding spot!" he crowed. "We can have all sorts of fun up here!"

Milo watched as the confused Black Masks tried to corral the startled Dogs, Citizens taking their moment to scatter. He turned to face Seff.

"What else can you do?"

* * * *

There's not much room...in our cocoon...our little elevator to the stars...

Luma sat folded up, the glow from the Brothers' crystals so bright it hardly made a difference if her eyes were open or shut. There was a sensation of traveling while remaining completely still, the four of them encased in light, sliding through the layers of the earth. In contrast, her mind felt unfolded, spread out and draped over the entire city. A light touch and she could read everything.

The battle at the city center was a bright mosaic of anger and pain. It looked like waves crashing. It looked like water circling a drain. The citizens were like a fire trying to gain purchase on something too cold and wet to burn. Luma could feel the strength leaching out of them and pushed further, looking for help. Under the streets, just a short distance from the frantic conflict in the square, the hidden prison beckoned her with slow, rhythmic breaths. Time to get up...

She aligned herself with each sleeping prisoner, made her eyes their eyes and helped them awaken. She felt the shape of them, alien and familiar, felt the muscles stretch and sluggish hearts begin to beat again, in time, with purpose, for one single reason: to be free. Their rage was a howling wind that ripped through tubes and wires, tore off doors, and drove them to the surface, to the city. With Luma's light behind their eyes they marched toward the war.

IT'S NOT SO EASY AS THAT

The King's power descended like a curtain, an insect-like drone accompanying the feeling of slamming doors. Her warriors were halted, their escape route sealed. Luma gritted her teeth and spread the fingers of her mind out further, searching for something, for someone who could help...

* * * *

"--et them over to that side of the building and we'll knock the tower over on them." Seff's voice buzzed tinnily from the improvised speaker he'd rigged by Milo's ear. Milo shifted his grip on the two huge girders he was holding, arms spread out like wings, and advanced on the waiting guard. He swung the girders like scythes, forcing the Black Masks to choose between being threshed or or being herded. Step by step he urged them backward, setting them up for attack from above. He'd gotten pretty good at this people-moving thing.

The Kids had taken quickly to guerilla tactics, conjuring elaborate scenarios and setting traps, agreeing to keep their theater of operations at a rooftop level if Milo would do their dirty work on the ground.

"This is what you're for, you know," Seff had whined at him. "Go do something interesting or we'll take you apart!"

Is this really what I'm for? Milo wondered, dropping one of the girders and turning around, swinging the other in an arc up over his head and down. It slammed into the ground between him and the group of Black Masks that had approached while his back was turned, showering them with pieces of broken pavement. They got a few shots in, but it was really no contest. They were like ants to him. But there were just...so...many...ants.

When it had become clear to the fighting Citizens that Milo was both on their side and largely indestructible, they'd heeded his shouted instructions and retreated, putting their energy into building up a barricade while Milo tried to keep the Black Masks busy. But he wasn't fast, and the guard seemed to get more numerous every time he turned around. An uphill battle, sure, but you can't win if you never reach the top. Something was going to happen-- he couldn't keep them away from the barricade forever-- they were going to get past him, they were going to get--

MILO

It was like plunging into icy water. Everything around him was suddenly slowed, muted.

LISTEN TO ME

There was a fizzing feeling behind his eyes, then the world whited out and he was in some kind of dream. His vision stretched, somehow, and he could see the city from above and below at the same time. Beating hearts and marching feet, moving steadily to a dead end, no escape--

THESE ARE YOUR REINFORCEMENTS, MILO. UNBLOCK THEIR WAY.

The monument. The mountainous slab of stone just a short distance from the square, the King's words and visage carved upon it like a warning to the sky. They were going to come up under it-- his soldiers, they were his soldiers now. He had to get them out, had to--

HELP THEM

The fizzing stopped and Milo snapped back to the moment. He had a heady sense of foreshadowing, like the future was set and he could see it. If he took one step in the right direction, everything would fall into place. Black Masks swarmed around him, grabbing, climbing, trying to get to something vulnerable. He shook them off like water.

"Seff!" Milo yelled into his radio. "We have to destroy the monument! Like, totally blow it away. Can you do it?"

"The big stone thing?" came the answer, awash in static. "Why d'you wanna do that?"

"Can you do it?!"

"Well yeah, but I gotta go down there to--"

"I'm coming to get you," Milo said. He turned back toward the barricade and shouted to the Citizens behind it. "Hold the Guard back! Help is coming, I promise, just hold on!" Then he stomped and slashed his way through the advancing throng, trying to close his ears against the sound of their attack.

* * * *

The sound of Luma's breath came harsher and harsher in her ears until she realized it wasn't her own she was hearing. Her eyes flew open and she staggered to her feet, eyes adjusting to the dimness. The Brothers stood in a loose wall in front of her, crystals held steady, their light subdued. In front of them was the King.

He looked... so small. Body a wrecked piece of desiccated flesh, wrapped in black cloth and tilted awkwardly as if held up by wires or strings.  Tubes snaked in and around him, anchoring him in his throne and rising up behind in a dripping and blackened tangle. Disappearing up into the shadows that obscured where they joined the Machine.

It was massive, and immobile, fixed above the King by who knew what. Every cell in Luma's body was alert to its presence, dark and silent as it was. She took a halting step forward, joining the Brothers. Somewhere in the M's core a cold gleam arose, matching the King's eyes as he let out a low, crackling laugh.

"So you found us," he rasped. "Forgive me for not standing on ceremony."

He was like cobwebs stretched over brittle bones...it wouldn't even take the strength of one hand to crush the life out of him--

Luma didn't realize she'd been walking forward until she slammed against an invisible wall. The King's cold eyes were amused. Luma pounded on the barrier with her fists, a guttural scream tearing out of her as the wall of power held fast, indifferent. A hand clapped on her shoulder-- one of the Brothers-- and pulled her gently back.

"Enough," snapped the King. "Surely you didn't come here just to bore me with pathetic attempts at foolish bravery." He nodded slightly toward the M. "We've been waiting a long time for this. "

The hand on her shoulder squeezed lightly and Luma turned around to face the Brothers. "It has to be done this way?" she asked hoarsely. A nod from all three. "But we'll be giving him... so much power..." The Brothers held their crystals out to her and she held her hands out over them, their soothing energy curling around her fingers like smoke. She took a shuddering breath and concentrated, trying to reach out for the white light, the voice that had brought her here in the first place. "Set the machine in motion," she whispered. "Free the city--"

The crystals shook in the Brothers' grasp, a low hum resonating inside them, echoed and amplified by the M. Trembling veins of light began to stretch from the Machine, drawn toward the crystals and the four figures hunched over them. The vibrations rose up into an eerie, mournful wail, matching but not drowning out the triumphant laughter of the King.

Luma squeezed her eyes shut and reached out--

* * * *

"--but how did you KNOW they were in there?" Seff's words were choppy as he bounced against Milo's shoulder, holding on for dear life as Milo ran them back toward the square.

"I don't know! I don't know, I just-- something-- I saw--" Hundreds of prisoners-- some unlike anything Milo had ever seen-- had come streaming out of the ruins of the monument and gone racing toward the sound of battle. It was just like his vision, which meant it wasn't over, which meant he had to see--

Milo launched himself at the side of a building, grasping at the exposed wiring that tumbled down its side, and climbed feverishly. He needed a higher vantage point. He had to get a sense of...

Reaching the roof, Milo scrambled toward the edge and came skidding to a stop, taking in the scene that spread out below him. The prisoners had rushed in behind the Guard, effectively trapping them between themselves and the Citizens still holed up behind the barricade--most of which had been destroyed by now. Both sides fought savagely inward, wave after wave of surging violence crashing against an opposite force. Milo watched the faces of the Citizens and prisoners alike, watched them growing blanker, more mask-like. Eyes darkening until they looked dead, no matter how fiercely their bodies fought on.

No, no no. That wasn't what the vision had--

* * * *

With every passing second, the M grew brighter and the King's body restored itself, glowing and gloating. His raucous, cackling laughter rang out over the hum of rising power, making Luma's skin crawl. The genuine, twisted joy of it was enough to make her despair-- except that she couldn't help sharing it. She was growing stronger, too. The energy flowed back and forth between her and the M, amplified and refined by the crystals. She could feel the strands that connected her, the M's power spreading out like a vast web. Here was the King, wired up tight to the Machine, and here were the thousands of tiny lines twisting out from him, his harness on the city.

"It's not the feast it was when they were working," mused the King, as if sensing her thoughts. "But the war will serve as well... still they feed me, still they burn."

Luma stretch out along her own lines, felt the power moving. It went both ways; the M could give and take, why shouldn't she? She looked again at the King, steadily sucking power toward himself, then shifted her concentration. Focused...outward.

"What are you doing?" The King narrowed his eyes. Luma smiled sharply, pushed harder. "What are you--"

* * * *

Milo felt it hit him like a punch to the chest. He choked out a strangled cry and stumbled, falling to one knee and dumping Seff onto the rooftop.

THIS IS YOU, NOW. THIS IS US.

He knew everything. He could see it. The glowing Machine pouring power into him, filling him up. His mind unraveled and rocketed upward, weaving into a waiting pattern, welcomed into a circle of light. The power pulsed outward around him, looking for somewhere to go.

CONNECT

Pushing off from the rooftop, Milo landed in a crouch, dust flying up from the impact. He fixed his eyes on the battle in front of him and thrust both fists into the ground. The power surged outward, racing along invisible paths and making contact-- encircling each Citizen, every prisoner and Black Mask, weaving a web of light and heat around them.

STOP

Milo pulled at the strands, let the Machine's energy crash into him and flow outward until every single person was glowing, connected, and still.

They were his to command.

The fighting was over.

* * * *

This time the laughter that rang out was Luma's. The King's expression was sour, and the delicate strands that had connected him with the city were curling into dried husks, dropping away. On the one side, a circle in balance: the M, Luma, Milo and his frozen battlefield. Each pulled power from the others, joined it with their own and pushed it back. Not draining but resonating. Power spent was power gained. On the other side: a King, alone. Drinking power from the M. Growing stronger, growing brighter.

Luma stepped forward; the King sat up straighter. "Don't you think it's time you gave this up?" they said in unison.

"We're winning," Luma said breathlessly.

"You're dying," said the King.

His words sent a tremor through her. A host of sensations pushed away in the heat of mental warfare came creeping back. Her chest felt hollow, sliced through by broken glass. She wiped a hand across her mouth and it came away bloody. "No," she started. She looked back at the Brothers, but their face shields reflected nothing but her own sunken eyes.

"You may have noticed," the King went on, "that I am not. That I am in fact stronger with every minute. Stronger," his voice echoed and the light in his body gleamed evilly, leaking out from his skin, "-- than I have EVER been. Strong enough to withstand anything you could think to throw against me, so I think it's time you made the right decision."

Luma leaned forward. The King's barrier still held. She rested her weight upon it and stared hatefully at the shining figure sitting in his throne.

"Acknowledge the superior force," said the King, tendrils of light worming out from his eye sockets, "and be drawn to it. You can step down now, and live under my rule. Or die here and leave me equally victorious. It's not a question of winning, Luma." He turned his creeping gaze upon her. "Surrender to the victor or lose twice."

Luma took a heaving breath and pushed off from the barrier, standing unsteadily on her own power. "Pretty words," she rasped.

"Take my advice," said the King, voice deceptively kind. "Stop fighting." His skin had become translucent, and smoothed out, features losing their distinction as he glowed brighter and brighter.

"You know," Luma said, and huffed out a laugh. "That's the first time you've ever given me good advice." She reached behind her, placed a hand atop the crystals, and poured all of her strength into the M. Surrendered her power to it, accepting its magnetic pull. Allowed her very life's breath to be drawn to the superior force.

She could hear the King laugh as she did so, felt the power rise and rise within him. It filled up the space between each atom of his body and expanded, diluting him, diffusing his physical form until he was only power, only light. The Machine flared from within, at long last fully restored, and the King was lost in a burst of light on light.

Luma dropped to the ground, light from the M warm against her skin. Hot, too hot. She felt herself separate into her composite parts. These were her limbs, her teeth, her bones. Organ after organ making itself known, then fading away. She saw the Brothers move to stand over her, silhouetted in the glow of the Machine. Her molecules buzzed, then blinked out of existence. She melted into the light, and it was over.

IT WAS OVER