Sofia was at his side, skipping Ragers in strategic locations. One of them balled up into a sphere of ground and rock and destroyed two Denters and a Ranter in one fell swoop.
But people were dying, getting hurt. The Fifth Army was getting smaller and smaller. How much longer could they hold out?
Paul shot a Metaspide to his left, a Ranter spinning in from the front, and then blasted a Denter to his right. Sofia threw an entire handful of Squeezers at a pack of machines that had somehow slipped behind them. Paul gave her a quick cheer.
They kept fighting.
Sato pushed out of his mind the screams that kept piercing the air and invading his thoughts. They were an army. This was a battle. People would die. All he could do was try to prevent as many deaths as possible. He ran across the fields, shooting his Shurric at the creatures of the Void, aiming for any that looked ready to open those mouths of theirs and spit out fire. The other soldiers had caught on as well, taking care to kill the monsters of mist before they sent out streams of flaming heat that were almost impossible to defend against.
A beam of fiery orange came sailing through the air, straight for Sato’s head. He dove to the ground, spinning onto his back just in time to see the terrifying flames swoop over his body and land in a patch of flattened grass. It caught fire but was soon put out by his soldiers running across it, looking for something to shoot. Some soldiers tossed Ragers, which proved very effective, often taking out five or six of the Void creatures in one destructive roll.
Sato leaped to his feet and rejoined the fray.
Master George had given up on doing much other than shooting his confounded Shurric weapon when he had a very clear shot. Otherwise he was too scared he might lop off the heads of his own people. He was no soldier, and he had begun to greatly regret thinking he could help. If anything, he felt as if he was a terrible hindrance.
Mothball and Sally fought ferociously beside him, attacking any threat that came close. He knew they were trying to protect him, and it touched his heart. Though if they died doing so, he’d never forgive himself.
The battle raged all around him, an awful experience that made his insides tremble. Beams of fire shooting through the air from Void creatures on one side, horrific machines stomping and scuttling and spinning all over the place on the other. Brave soldiers fighting with everything they had; brave soldiers dying. Shurrics pounding, Ragers smashing, Squeezers breaking apart machines, people screaming.
The battle was everywhere.
There was a squeal of metal against metal next to him, followed by a solid thump and the quake of earth at his feet. He stumbled as he turned to see what had happened then almost fell at the sight of a huge machine, silver and black with dark rubber wheels, appearing at his side. The robot had two huge mechanical arms that ended in spiked fists of steel. George looked in fright at the letters written across the chest of the beast:
Denter
Manufactured by Chu Industries
He’d barely read the last word when the robot raised an arm up into the air and swung it back down. The metal fist and its spikes dug into George’s chest, and then lifted him up and threw him through the air like a discarded piece of trash. Pain erupted through every single cell of his body, a flashing burn of hurt that made his mind want to shut down. He flailed with his arms as he flew, saw blood dripping from his skin, watched as the ground rushed up at him. He slammed down, and every last ounce of breath escaped from his lungs.
He landed in a way that turned his face to the fields beyond the battle, toward a spot that had been empty when the fighting started. But now he saw a sight that lifted his heart despite the pain that ripped through him. A short, round ball of a man, waving his little arms frantically, as if giving orders. Behind him, hundreds—maybe even thousands—of people had appeared, wielding all manner of weapons.
Rutger had done it. He’d found the other Realitants and come to the rescue.
Master George ached like the end of the world. He closed his eyes, wondering if it might be the last time he ever did so.
Chapter 68
A Dead Body
The Void was throwing everything it had at Tick. He doubted if he’d ever understand how the thing worked—if it was alive or a mindless pool of unchecked power. But it seemed to be thinking now, and it didn’t want him to take another step toward the elusive core that made up its heart.
The ground exploded all around him, like the spray from a breaching whale. The bubble he’d created with his Chi’karda did nothing against that, throwing him left and right. He’d get up only to have it happen all over again.
Great spouts of flames and lava rained down from above, like descending angels of fiery destruction. Tick had to stop and focus each time they hit, throwing his power out to keep the shield from breaking down. Lightning split the air in any direction he looked, its sound like a thousand locomotives next to his ears. His head felt numb through and through.
Balls of mist solidified, pounding on his protection like an angry kid trying to break through a piggy bank. Each wallop sent a vibration of pain through his bones, and he threw even more of his thoughts into controlling the flow of Chi’karda. All while the ground continued to explode and throw his body around, all while fire rained from the sky, all while lightning tried to strike its way into any opening it might suddenly find. All with the horrible, horrible noise of the world breaking in half. Tick was rattled, and he knew it. But he forced himself to keep his wits intact, to not let the fear and panic win over his nerves.
He dealt with the chaos, doing his best to keep moving in the general direction he thought Jane had indicated, and relying on his instincts. Relying on some inner sense that he didn’t even comprehend. He was just moving now. Moving forward, not backward. Guided by what, he didn’t know. But guided by something.
A body lay up ahead, its arms and legs sprawled in impossible positions. Lifeless. A silver cube was perched in a pile of rubble right next to it.
Tick walked up to the spot and stood over the dead form of Reginald Chu.
Paul heard the shouts and cheers first. Then he noticed that most of the machines had stopped in the middle of whatever havoc they’d been inflicting. His soldiers turned to look at something in the distance.
Haggard, beat, exhausted. That was Paul. His arms and legs felt like rubber, and he hurt in roughly seventy-five places. He’d run and jumped and dodged and dove and shot both of his Shurrics almost to their limit. He’d been hit and swept aside by machines. A spinning Ranter had almost taken his head clean off, but Sofia had saved him with a quick burst from her Shurric. It had been her last charge, because she then tossed the weapon aside and started throwing the few Ragers she had left.
It was a miracle, but both of them were still alive. And now something new was happening. Something was going on.
He ran up to her, grabbed her by the hand. She was filthy and bloody and bruised. But she didn’t protest and went with him as they zigzagged their way through the crowd of tall soldiers from the Fifth Reality. It was as if the very air had changed—gotten brighter. The mood had visibly lifted.
He saw why, when they finally made it to a break in the people and machines. Hundreds and hundreds of people—dressed in oranges and reds and browns and blacks and turbans and robes and jeans and sandals and every color and type of clothing he’d ever imagined, and many that he hadn’t—were charging the enemies on both sides. Somewhere in the middle of all that, he thought he saw Rutger.
Rutger.
He and Sofia exchanged a glance, then turned to look at the churning hurricane of fog and mist and lightning. It was still growling and angry. Getting bigger.
Then Paul spotted Master George, lying on his stomach.
Not moving.
Sato had been on the verge of giving up. He hated to admit it to himself, but the truth was the truth. Cold, hard Reality. They were outnumbered, outmanned, and almost out of weaponry. The creatures from the Void kept coming, shooting their beams
of flame. The world rocked with thunder and screams.
But now they had help.
A sea of people, dressed in all kinds of clothes, surged forward. They carried all kinds of weapons, some of which Sato had never seen before: red tubes looped around shoulders, connecting a backpack to nozzles held in both hands; long poles with electricity sparking on the end; cubes of blue metal that glowed with a brilliant light. The people came down the slope to join the battle, most of them roaring, eyes aflame. Sato saw Rutger in their midst, cheering them on.
The tide had turned.
Jane limped up to Tick as he stared down at the lifeless face of Reginald Chu. She slipped through the protective bubble of his Chi’karda and put a scarred hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her and saw the mask, which was half-melted. There was only one eye now, half a mouth. Everything else was a smeared ruin of metal. He probably would’ve gasped from shock if he hadn’t felt so numb inside.
“He never had a chance,” she said.
Tick looked over at the silver cube, a third of it buried in a pile of rock and dirt. Something had taken ahold of him inside. A presence. An unmistakable feeling in his heart and unexpected thoughts in his mind that he knew weren’t his own. It was pure power—a lot like Chi’karda in how he could sense it. Where it had come from, he had no idea. But a clear path had suddenly opened before him. It hurt him—hurt him deeply—but he knew he couldn’t stray from it.
Karma. Sofia had called it Karma. He touched a finger to the bag she and Paul had tied to his wrist. Everything in the world was now crystal clear in his mind. He knew his destiny and how to find it.
He walked over and picked up the cube. He turned to Jane.
“I need your help!” he shouted.
She nodded, and he wondered if she felt the power’s presence as well. It was like electricity in the air, and warmth in his veins. Unmistakably there.
Jane pointed to her right. “The heart of the Void is that way. We’re close now.”
Tick and Mistress Jane headed for their destiny—and their doom.
Chapter 69
Becoming One
The ground trembled and shook as they walked across it. Tick’s mind was more focused than ever now, as if some miracle drug had been pumped through his veins. His hold on Chi’karda was absolute.
He was ready for anything.
The winds swept past in torrential gusts, but they did nothing to even stir his clothes. Without hardly thinking about it, his bubble of protection stayed true, as did Jane’s. They’d even learned to control the earthquakes beneath them, squashing their force before they could lift their feet off the ground. The Void noticed, and quit trying. Fists of fog continued to form in the mist, pounding at their shields, thumping and bumping. Nothing broke through.
They kept walking. Tick hugged the silver cube to his chest. That unseen presence that had filled him left him with no doubt that the object was vital to what awaited. Everything was about to come to a head.
A brightness began to lighten the air, like the beginnings of dawn. It had a blue tint to it, and it either thinned out the fog and mist or just made it easier to see. But the feel of the air around them was changing. And then it appeared before their eyes. Not gradually, and not from a distance, growing in size. It was suddenly just there, as if they’d been catapulted three miles forward without feeling anything.
A thick shaft of pure blue light, blinding in its brilliance. It came from the sky and tunneled into the ground, running in both directions as far as Tick could see. The perfectly round cylinder was at least fifty feet wide, the radiance within its core pulsing like a heartbeat.
Tick squinted and held up his hands, peeking through his fingers. It was impossible to look at the light for more than a second or two, but there was something incredibly beautiful and mesmerizing about its steady beat of flashing brightness. The purity of its blue. The hum and buzz emanating from it. Tick felt it in the air and in the ground beneath his feet. The steady roar and pounding of a thousand waterfalls.
It was energy and life and power, unlimited and daunting. Tick had to fight to not lose himself to the awesomeness of it all.
“The core of the Void!” Jane shouted.
Tick nodded. He knew that already. Just as he knew what needed to be done. Just as he knew that Mistress Jane would never leave this place, and that he’d never be the same.
He turned to her, finally breaking his trancelike state. “I need your help to harness its energy! I need you to break apart the cube. And . . . me.”
Her half-melted mask stared back at him, saying nothing. Showing nothing.
“You know it’s the only way!” he yelled. She had to know.
“It’s going to fight us,” she finally replied.
Tick nodded.
She paused again. “You have to promise me, Atticus! Promise me!”
“What?”
The roar of the Void shook the air.
“You know!” she shouted. “You know what my heart has always envisioned! It’s always been about the end, Atticus. Tick. Always the means to the end!”
“Utopia.”
“Utopia!” She stepped closer to him, only inches away. “I need your word if you want me to do this. Otherwise nothing matters!”
“I give you my word that I’ll devote everything to it. But in my own way.”
“Swear it!”
“I swear.”
She stared at him a long time before nodding. “Then let’s go.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond. She turned and sprinted for the blinding, brilliant shaft of pulsing blue light. Tick ran after her, hefting the cube in his arms. The Void immediately retaliated.
Things started flying out of the core, all shapes and sizes, some alive and some not. Dozens of man-shaped creatures like the Voids who’d attacked them at the ruins of Jane’s castle came first. Their mouths gaped open as soon as they appeared, yawning wide to reveal the furnaces that burned inside. Beams of lava and flame shot out all at once in an organized volley of heat.
Jane stopped to face the threat, as did Tick. With flicks of his eyes, he directed the power of Chi’karda—bursts of brilliant orange—to shoot forth and meet the attack in midair, obliterating the streams of lava before they could fall toward the ground. The two forces met in a shower of sparks and a burst of explosive sound. Jane and Tick swept their gazes left and right, destroying them all. Then they focused on the creatures themselves, wiping them from existence with one brutal assault of Chi’karda. Wisps of fog flew in all directions.
Jane moved forward again, and Tick followed. They’d only taken a few short steps when all kinds of animals made from the same gray substance emerged from the blue core. There were tigers and dogs and snakes and mad bulls. Alligators. Giant scorpions. They mixed together into a crowd of monsters, scurrying about the ground, all of them bent on attacking the two humans close by.
Jane and Tick stopped again and fired away with Chi’karda. The creatures’ eyes had that same bright look of flames, vicious and angry. Snakes slithered across the ground; tigers leaped forward; everything came at them.
Tick could feel pressure mounting inside him as he picked apart the unnatural creations with his power. Sweat poured down his face. Every blast that took down one enemy seemed to reveal three more—they just kept coming and coming. Jane’s arms were whipping around, back and forth as she aimed and fired, like her hands were weapons. Tick just looked, killing with a glance. Zap, zap, zap. The sounds of explosions and the roar of the core filled the air.
Heaving deep breaths, Tick wiped away all of the enemies on his side then helped Jane destroy the last few on her side. They ran a few steps closer to the blue light.
A massive tree trunk, gray but looking solid enough to smash a truck, came hurtling out of the core, end over end. Tick dissolved it into wispy nothingness with a burst of Chi’karda. Next came a huge chunk of steel and concrete, the jagged and broken remains of an old skyscraper. Jane destroyed it. C
ars came flying out. Busses. More trees. Homes, ripped from their foundations. Boats. Planes. Telephone poles.
Now yelling with each blast, Tick attacked the objects coming at him, annihilating them all. Nothing came within ten feet of him. Jane seemed just as strong, throwing her spurts of power out like grenades. Chaos reigned, noise battered the world around them.
Still the core continued to throw things at them, and on some level, Tick understood that the Fourth Dimension sucked things away from the Realities and transformed them into these projectile weapons. All of the matter they were fighting against had once been real and whole in a world somewhere.
He’d had enough. He couldn’t keep it up forever. Exhaustion was creeping in.
“Jane!” he yelled. “We need to rush the core! This has to stop!”
She answered by moving forward, still waving her arms as she directed her powers. Tick followed, taking step after slow step as he focused with all his might. One slip, and he’d have a crushed head.
Still enemies flew at them, relentless and unstopping. Huge rocks. Giant Dumpsters. More beasts and man-like creatures. Some monsters shot back with streams of lava flames.
Tick wiped them away with nothing but his thoughts, exploding Chi’karda out of himself. Jane did the same.
They made it to the blindingly bright core, its pulsing blueness as hot as the thrusters on an alien spaceship. Tick couldn’t look at it directly. He screamed as loud as he could and sent out one last detonation of pure Chi’karda, obliterating every single gray creature and monster within sight.
And then there was only the light and the roar of the core.
Jane quickly stepped next to him and grabbed the cube from his hands. For an instant, he wanted to rip it away from her, but he knew what she was doing. What she had to do.
“It’s the only way!” he yelled at her.
“The only way!” she shouted back. “Atticus Higginbottom! Don’t you dare forget your promise! Don’t you dare!”