Chapter
CLXXVI: The Death Timer ~Multehx
Multehx lay on his back on the ground, looking at the sky. He whistled through his teeth.
“Gaw...this is DULL.” He turned an eye to his companion. “Tell me we get to move soon?”
C.R. had his eyes closed and raised his hand to silence the agent. “Tehx, quiet, some new events are coming into play. I’m trying to see what they are...”
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Fanah sighed exasperatedly. She put her hands on her hips, frowning. “Alright, Sir, you called us here ages ago, now what is it?”
Malachai’s voice came from a large
object with a tarp draped over it. “Just the greatest
invention to Twilighter kind since the Magik containment unit! Necronimus,
take it off now.”
The council watched in fascination as the white plastic sheet was pulled off the object. They then looked in wonder upon it.
Vole was first to speak. “What...is it...it looks to be some sort of...cannon?”
Malachai grinned as he leapt down from the top of the device’s barrel. “Yes, it is a cannon, but not any old cannon–“ he turned, waving a hand at the machine, “–this is the cannon! Behold; the main weapon of the warship Genesis!”
The group was taken aback by this announcement. Malachai turned, fixing his beard with a hand.
“Of course, the
Genesis was scrapped back during the Zolott affair,
five years ago. Necronimus and I have had to rebuild
missing parts from scratch, and then there was the base and targeting screen
and such...”
“But...how were you able to recover this?” Nictem asked. “The lot was sucked into the Corrupted Rip.”
The elder of the Council waved a gloved hand and grinned. “As you know, Nictem, the Corrupted Rip is simply branches and areas of the Cosmic Rip that are infested with the evil of our Ex-Master, correct?”
“Well, yes, elementary physics.”
“Well, if anything makes it through the Corrupted Rip in tact, then logically, it should make it into the Cosmic Rip.”
Nictem frowned, rubbing his chin. “I see....but...wouldn’t the Corrupted areas have chewed it to scrap, and the blast from that alien ship hitting it; that would have atomized it on the whole I would think.”
Malachai nodded, smiling slyly. “Yes,
by all means, it should do
precisely that,” the demon chuckled. “But, remember, Pseudo Havering’s energies
were surrounding the planet to keep the heroes in; they acted as a prohibitor to the damage that should have been caused,
thus, a good deal of wreckage was left in the rip. I simply found it, and
brought it back here, and Necronimus, with his
technologically aware mind, was able to figure out materials needed to make
repairs.”
Nictem quirked a brow. “Make repairs...sir, you meant the cannon, didn’t you?”
Malachai chuckled. “Not quite.”
Nictem paled. “Then...you–“
“Yes, three-fourths of the Genesis, excluding the towers and the weapon, which you see here, have been rebuilt. We would complete the missing fourth, but we hit a bit of a snag.”
“What would that be?”
Malachai frowned. “The missing part was entirely destroyed. We can’t figure out how to build it in a way that will coincide with the systems of the other parts. We need to get our hands on the original blue prints.”
“And where are
they?”
Malachai ignored the question, turning back to the cannon. He folded his arms and snickered.
“And now, for the piece de resistance! What we have constructed this weapon for.”
He strode over to a control panel on the machine and began to type in several calculations. NecronimusII came from around the side of the machine and took place at the targeting scope. Malachai continued to type away as the cannon slowly aimed itself, and finally stopped when NecronimusII said it was aimed properly.
Malachai stood back and chuckled to
himself. “Good, all is set.”
Nero raised his brow, shuffling through a deck of playing cards he held. “All? What is set?”
The lead Councilman turned to him and grinned sinisterly. “Why else did we create a weapon of such magnitude? We’re going to blow Xel’neh Mi to space dust and those troublesome heroes along with it! They’ve gone there to revive a late comrade. We’ll give him a festive Council welcome; namely leaving the particles of his friends and the planet there to greet his arrival!”
Orson grinned wryly. Jadea adjusted the glasses made to fit her noseless face (contacts were so last Tuesday after all; or at least Fanah had said they were) and took a step forward. “Sir?”
Malachai turned slightly. “Yes? Something the matter?”
The demoness shook her head. “No, not really, but just asking, Sir, are you sure that this weapon is of the proper calibre to cause the damage intended, and make to fire enough times to avert possibility of failure?”
NecronimusII looked over at this and
spoke up. “You have nothing to fear. With the additions we gave the weapon, and
its inherent power, there is no reason for it not to be enough to destroy a
single planet. As for the ability to fire continuously, I assure you, I worked
on this myself, and we Infects are no slouches of technological know-how
ourselves, but unlike the movies, this is one weapon that could fire for near a
half hour straight before needing to recharge lost energy. Unlike the ship,
this weapon alone is too small to be a threat easily seen, and our position on
these mountains make for perfect cover for such an attack.” He looked back to
the scope, narrowing his eyes. “Believe me, in a matter of moments, we will be
troubled no more.”
As the robot’s hand closed in on pressing the trigger, another fell on his, moving it aside. The Infect looked up to his new master who only grinned slyly.
“Let’s have a bit of fun. Make them suffer before they perish. Tell me, what was the recorded time from the rise of the Genesis on Zolott until its destruction?”
“I have listed it was three hours, twenty seven minutes, nine seconds.”
“Then, we will send them an ultimatum stating they have that long to live.”
Malachai chuckled evilly and NecronimusII nodded, walking over to the communication
device in the cavern. He got the signal for the Spectrum, punched in a message,
then sent it along.
You have exactly
Sincerely Yours,
The Twilighter
Council