Chapter 139
Arc 9 - Ch 6: Escape the Apocalypse
Location: Lamentis-1, Edge of Kree Space, 2075
"I think Amora sees what she wants to see. But I'm not sure I want to be anyone's king."
"And yet you wear it well. The way you handled those creatures earlier, the way you move through a room. There's something... Regal about it." The train swayed around another bend. A distant explosion illuminated the sky. "So this Amora, she has powers similar to mine?"
"Similar, yes. But different in execution." Tyson leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Her enchantment is... seductive. Yours seems more direct."
"Self-taught versus formally trained, perhaps."
"Maybe. Or just different approaches. But you're right, Amora is formally trained, and while she primarily uses Enchantment, she's well-versed in many other forms of magic."
"And what was it like?" Sylvie's voice quieted. "Having someone else in your head like that? Someone who knew everything about you?"
"Freeing." His eyes grew distant. "To be completely known and not rejected? That's rare."
"And did you reject her? After seeing all of her?"
"No. How could I? I understood her completely. Her motivations, her fears, her desires. Even when I disagree with her methods, I understand why she chooses them."
"Do you think," Sylvie paused, choosing her words carefully, "that understanding someone completely removes the possibility of betrayal?"
Tyson considered this. "Not necessarily. Understanding someone doesn't change who they are or who you are fundamentally."
"That's... surprisingly cynical."
"Realistic. People act according to their nature. Amora always put her ambitions first. I know that. But her ambitions have aligned with my well-being, and she's come out the better for it."
"And when they no longer align?"
"We'll see. I get the sense that our paths are entangled."
Sylvie nodded slowly, as if filing this away. "And what about me? What's my nature, as you see it?"
"You're a survivor. Someone who's been hunted for so long that the hunt has become your identity. You're driven by a singular purpose that's sustained you through unimaginable hardship." He paused. "But underneath that, there's a longing for something you've never had, or something you lost so long ago you can barely remember it."
Sylvie blinked. Her composed facade cracked, just for a moment. She shifted in her seat. Her fingers tightened around her glass.
"Sorry. This wasn't my first encounter with Loki. Plus, I spent a lot of time with a psychiatrist these past few months. Makes you notice patterns."
She shook her head, but when she spoke, her voice was softer than before. "You're not wrong."
Tyson held out his hand across the table, palm up. In offering, in invitation. "But that's just what I've learned from observation. If you want me to truly see you, all it takes is a touch."
Sylvie's gaze dropped to his offered palm. Her hand moved fractionally toward his before stopping. The stillness lasted three heartbeats. Four. Her fingers trembled against the table's edge, barely perceptible, but there. Want warred with self-preservation across her features, each emotion chasing the other in rapid succession. Her hand lifted to hover in the space between them, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. So close.
Then she pulled back. Fingers curling into a fist.
"I think not."
Tyson withdrew his hand. Some boundaries weren't meant to be pushed.
"I get it." He settled back in his seat, reading the relief and regret that flashed across her face in equal measure.
"Do you?"
"We're still strangers, even if we're sharing drinks at the end of the world."
"Besides," Tyson continued, "having someone know everything about you? I don't hold on to it for long." He gestured to his head. "But all the memories, all the choices, all the things you wish you could forget? It's not always a gift."
"No. It's not." Sylvie stared into her glass, and something in her expression shifted. The playful mask she'd been wearing cracked, just slightly. "But at least you've had it. Someone seeing all of you and choosing to stay. You talk about having Amora waiting for you. Someone who knows you completely, even if that knowledge was manufactured through magic." Her voice dropped lower. "Do you know what it's like to never have that? I've never managed to maintain a serious relationship whilst running across time from one apocalypse to another. Hard to build trust with someone when you can't stay long enough to have a second conversation. To never stay in one place long enough to be known at all? I envy you." The words came out as a whisper. "Even if it's been manufactured, you have someone waiting for you at the end of all this. Even if it's not love." She met his gaze with an expression that made his chest tighten.
His expression softened. "That's a bit sad. You're quite charming." His gaze traced over her features, lingering just long enough to make his appreciation clear. "I'm sure in Asgard you'd have many suitors."
A passenger at a nearby table stood abruptly, knocking over his chair. He stared out the window, face pressed against the glass. "What the hell is that?" His companion tried to pull him back down, shushing him urgently, but the man pointed at something in the darkness. "There's something moving out there. Something big."
Tyson glanced out, but whatever the man had seen was gone, swallowed by the purple-tinged night. The passenger's companion finally succeeded in pulling him down, whispering frantically about not causing a panic. Around them, other passengers deliberately looked away, returning to their drinks with increased intensity.
Sylvie leaned forward, and a mischievous glint replaced the momentary vulnerability. The shift was deliberate, a mask sliding back into place. "Are you flirting with me?"
He matched her movement, leaning in. "Would that be so terrible? We're supposed to die in the next few hours." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, warm and playful despite the dark truth in the words. "If I'm going out, I'd prefer to do it in good company. Maybe even royal company. You are a Princess. If I were to become Prince, together we could rise, and I'd be King." His lips quirked upward. "Amora would be happy. But then I suppose you'd be the Queen and I'd only be the King Consort." He tilted his head. "What would that make her?"
Sylvie posed mockingly, one hand positioned under her chin. "Maybe I'll take her as my Queen instead and you can be the Mistress, or Mister—"
"I'd prefer the title Paramour."
Sylvie laughed, the sound genuine and unguarded. The kind of laugh that made the dimly lit train car feel less like a journey toward oblivion. "Paramour. I like it."
"I could see it now." Tyson warmed to the scenario. "The three of us, ruling Asgard. You with your enchantment, Amora with her magic, and me with..." He gestured vaguely to himself. "Whatever this is."
"Your charming personality?" Sylvie's tone carried exaggerated innocence, but something shifted beneath it. "It's a nice fantasy. Better than the reality of dying on a moon no one will remember." A hollow laugh escaped her. "But this is all we get. A few hours on a doomed moon, pretending we're people who could have futures. I suppose that's what fantasies are for. Somewhere to exist when reality is unbearable." She swirled her drink. "You know, for someone facing certain doom, you're remarkably optimistic."
"I've faced certain doom before. It rarely turns out to be certain."
"Is that so? Care to share some examples?"
"Well, there was the time I was banished to Limbo, a timeless dimension filled with demons being invaded by an ancient mutant." Tyson counted off on his fingers. "Then there were the vampires trying to summon the demon blood god. Oh, and let's not forget being hunted by a psychotic mutant with metal-controlling powers, and I have a metal skeleton." He paused. "Right before I ended up in the TVA, it was the alien invasion in New York. Hive-mind creatures, actually, though nothing like—" He stopped, frowning. Through the window, something dark and multi-legged skittered across a distant rooftop.
"And yet here you are."
"Here I am." Tyson spread his hands. "On a train hurtling toward an evacuation ship that probably won't save us, on a moon that's about to be destroyed, in a timeline I never belonged to, sharing drinks with a variant of Loki who might be using me or plotting to kill me."
Sylvie smiled. "When you put it that way, it does sound rather dire."
"And yet," Tyson raised his glass, "I'm having a surprisingly good time."
Sylvie clinked her glass against his. The crystal rang clear and bright despite everything. "To unexpected companions at the end of the world."
"I'll drink to that." Tyson took a sip, then set his glass down. "So, Your Highness, if we're playing out this fantasy of royal Asgardian politics, what would be your first decree as queen?"
Sylvie considered the question, her playful demeanor giving way to something more thoughtful. More honest. "Everyone free to forge their own path."
"A noble cause."
"What about you, Paramour? What would your first act be in our new regime?"
Tyson leaned back. "Maybe I've had enough excitement. I think I'll just spend the days lounging and the nights enjoying the Queen's company."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
"I'm counting on it. After all, I need to secure my position under the Queen, or on top of the Queen, whatever her tastes."
Sylvie laughed again, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."
"Perhaps. But admit it, you're entertained."
"Momentarily distracted from impending doom. There's a difference."
"I'll take what I can get. Distracting beautiful women from impending doom is a specialty of mine."
"Now you're definitely flirting."
"Just practicing my paramour skills. I need to be prepared for my new role."
Sylvie rolled her eyes, but her expression remained amused. "Building castles in the air. That's all this is." She gestured between them, the movement encompassing their conversation, the train, and the doom awaiting them outside. "We're playing pretend like children because the alternative is sitting here watching death approach. What would Amora think of your... preparation?"
"She'd probably approve. Especially if it advances her ambitions. She's practical that way."
"Practical is one word for it."
"She's complex. But then again, aren't we all?"
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the sky had darkened further. "Some more than others."
"For what it's worth, I think you'd make a formidable queen."
She turned back to him, her expression softened into something almost wistful. "In another life, perhaps."
"Why not this one?"
"First things first. We need to survive this apocalypse."
"And then?"
"And then we'll see about overthrowing the Time Keepers. After that... who knows? Maybe I'll consider your proposal."
"I'll hold you to that, Your Highness."
Sylvie raised her glass, the gesture both playful and regal. "As any good paramour should."
After another sip, she covered her mouth, trying to hide a yawn. The warm liquid and gentle rocking of the train were working against her, making her eyelids heavy despite every effort to stay alert. She blinked hard, once, twice, but the exhaustion crept back in like a tide.
"Feel free to get some rest."
She straightened, forcing her spine rigid. "I can't rest around people I don't trust."
Tyson raised an eyebrow. "Ouch."
"I don't truly know you."
"Fair." Tyson took another sip, then set the glass down with deliberate care. "How about this? A bit of trust. You try to enchant me, which will give you some insight into me, and then you can get some rest."
"You'd let me try?"
"I think enchantment only works on those who aren't strong-willed. I've had similar problems using my illusions. Like I said, Amora was able to use it on me, but that was long ago. Since then, I've resisted one of the strongest psychics on my planet. Magic is different... but I'll give it a shot."
Sylvie studied him, weighing his offer against the bone-deep weariness pulling at her. The train car swayed, and her head swayed with it before she caught herself.
"Alright."
Her palm began to glow, eerie green light spilling between her fingers. She reached forward and stopped just before touching his face. His eyes flashed green, the color swirling like smoke before fading back to normal.
Sylvie frowned, pulling away. The green light dissipated from her fingertips. "I didn't get much."
Tyson blinked a few times, clearing his vision. "Seems my will is sufficient."
"You probably knew I couldn't affect you." Suspicion hardened her voice. "How am I supposed to trust you?"
"Knowing something for sure doesn't involve trust. I promise I'll protect you and safeguard you. I don't need to sleep. You can rest knowing that I'll be diligent."
Her lips thinned. The fatigue was evident now in the slight shadows beneath her eyes, the way her shoulders had begun to slump despite her efforts to maintain her guard.
"I'm not sure if you play the fool, or you are the fool."
"Maybe a bit of both. But right now, I'm the fool who's offering to keep watch while you sleep."
Sylvie glanced around the car, taking in the exits, the other passengers, the servers moving between tables. Her gaze returned to Tyson, assessing him one more time. Looking for the lie she couldn't quite find.
"Fine. But I'm a light sleeper. If you so much as breathe wrong, I'll know."
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
Sylvie shifted in the booth, positioning herself so her back was against the wall. She folded her arms and tilted her head slightly, still wary.
"If you betray me, I'll make you regret it."
"I believe you."
He turned in his seat, positioning himself to monitor both entrances while keeping Sylvie in his peripheral vision. The other passengers continued their revelry, oblivious to the two strangers in their midst. Her breathing gradually slowed. Her eyelids fluttered closed despite her best efforts, then opened again. Closed. She caught herself, head jerking up, before the exhaustion dragged her under once more.
"Just sleep. I've got this."
One final glare tested his sincerity before she finally surrendered. Her chin dropped to her chest, and the tension in her shoulders eased fraction by fraction until she looked almost peaceful. Even in sleep, though, her face maintained a certain wariness, as if part of her remained alert and ready.
Tyson's enhanced senses monitored the car. He could hear the conversations around them, smell the expensive perfumes and colognes of the wealthy passengers, and feel the subtle vibrations of the train as it sped toward the evacuation point. All the while, he kept watch over the sleeping Loki Variant.
A server approached with fresh drinks, but Tyson waved him away. The man nodded and moved on without disturbing them. Guards came around checking tickets, but he easily deterred them with his illusions.
One guard lingered longer than the others, staring not at Tyson but past him, out the window. His hand rested on his weapon. When he finally moved on, Tyson caught fragments of his muttered conversation with his partner.
"...reports from the outer settlements... scouts… stripped clean..." The words faded as they moved to the next car.
— Rogue Redemption —
Tyson let her sleep for maybe two hours before the train began its deceleration. Around them, passengers were stirring, gathering belongings with the manic energy of people who needed to stay busy to avoid thinking.
He touched Sylvie's shoulder gently. "We're almost there."
She came awake instantly, no grogginess, hand already moving toward where her weapon would be. She scanned the car, cataloging threats before settling on him. "How long?" She assessed the situation immediately, the thinned crowd, the nervous energy of those remaining. "We lost time."
"A couple of hours. You needed rest. Come on." Tyson stood, offering his hand. After a moment's hesitation, she took it, letting him pull her to her feet.
Sylvie rolled her shoulders to work out the stiffness. Through the windows, the evacuation site was visible now, the massive Ark rising above the settlement like a monument. Or a tombstone. "Then let's go see if we're going to live through this."
Tyson and Sylvie exited the train and headed for the Ark. Outside, chaos had already begun. People poured from every car, pushing and shoving toward the evacuation site. Someone fell, was trampled. Guards shouted for order, but their voices were drowned in the roar of desperate humanity.
"Stay close," Sylvie said, already moving. She didn't wait to see if he'd follow, weaving through the crowd.
Tyson kept pace, using his size to create a buffer zone around them both. The air smelled of smoke and ozone, and something else, something organic and wrong that his enhanced senses couldn't quite identify. He looked up at the planet dominating the sky, filling nearly half the visible expanse. It hung dangerously close, impossibly large.
"We need to hurry." Sylvie pushed through the throng of desperate evacuees.
Families clutched meager belongings, children wailed, and guards struggled to maintain order as they funneled people toward the Ark.
Suddenly, someone screamed.
A beast erupted from between two buildings. It stood nearly twelve feet tall on six jointed legs. Its body resembled a fusion of scorpion and mantis, with an elongated thorax covered in overlapping plates that clicked and scraped as it moved. The creature's head swiveled independently from its body, featuring multiple compound eyes and mandibles lined with serrated teeth.
The thing should have been lumbering, slow.
It wasn't.
The middle-aged man had no chance. The beast was on him before he could scream, before he could run. Snatching him with appendages that unfolded from beneath its thorax. These limbs resembled praying mantis forelegs but were tipped with barbed hooks that sank into the man's flesh. The creature lifted its prey toward its maw. The man's screams turned gurgling as the beast began feeding, blood spraying in an arc. Tyson smelled the copper tang of blood mixing with the creature's acrid scent. His enhanced senses forced him to experience every detail, the crack of bone, the man's abbreviated cry as he was consumed.
The feeding process took mere seconds. When finished, the beast's thorax expanded slightly, and its mandibles worked mechanically to clean remnants from its face, not unlike a cat grooming after dinner.
"Move!" Sylvie grabbed Tyson's arm. "There will be more."
The crowd scattered. Guards abandoned their posts, firing wildly at the creature with energy weapons.
"We can take it."
"No time. These people are already dead. Focus on what matters."
The cold calculation in her voice snapped Tyson back to their mission. She was right, they needed to reach the Ark to charge the Tempad.
They ducked into an alley as more screams erupted behind them. The narrow passage wound between towering structures, offering momentary shelter.
"Half a mile, maybe less to the launch site." She glanced upward at the looming planet. "These creatures hunt by sensing vibrations and body heat. Illusions won't fool them."
"Actually, they will, but I guess we should get to the launch site fast. You're not afraid of heights, are you?"
"No, but I don't know—" Her words cut short as Tyson stepped close and hugged her tightly against his frame. Before she could protest, they lifted into the sky.
The wind whipped through Sylvie's hair as Tyson carried them upward, his magnetism manipulating the planet's magnetic field. Below, the desperate crowds looked like scurrying ants.
"You can fly? Why the hell did we take the train if you can fly?"
"I was following your lead, my queen."
"Well—" Sylvie's retort died as a blinding flash erupted from the launch site. A massive explosion tore through the Ark, sending a shockwave rippling outward. The detonation ripped the vessel apart from within, flames bursting from every seam before it collapsed in on itself. Secondary explosions followed as fuel reserves ignited, creating a hellish inferno that consumed the launch site and everyone near it. The sound, a thunderous boom, reached them seconds later.
Tyson hovered. His magnetic sense felt the structural collapse, the metal tearing itself apart in patterns that spoke of deliberate destruction. That was not an accident. Not a malfunction. Something had destroyed their only escape route.
They had a plan. Get to the Ark. Escape. That was the plan. He'd survived so much, pulled through so many impossibilities, because there was always a way out. Always an angle, a backup, something.
The heat from the explosion reached them even at this distance. Below, thousands of people had been at that launch site. Families. Children. All of them gone in seconds. He could hear the screams carrying on the wind, smell the burning fuel, and something worse, something organic. His enhanced senses cataloged every detail of the disaster, forcing him to experience it with an intensity no normal person would have to endure.
The tightness spread through his chest and down into his stomach. Not fear, exactly. He'd been afraid before, knew how to function through it. This was something else.
Finality.
Just the slow countdown to extinction unless there was some other clever plan he could implement.
He forced his breathing to steady. Panic served no purpose.
Sylvie pulled away slightly. "Put me down."
Tyson descended to a nearby rooftop, gently setting Sylvie on her feet. She walked to the edge, shoulders slumping in defeat as she stared at the burning wreckage.
"We're doomed." The words came out flat, final. She sat down on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the side as she tilted her head back to look at the planet filling the sky above them.
Tyson settled beside her. The silence stretched, filled only by distant screams and the rumble of collapsing structures. The city burned below them, illuminating the night with an orange glow. Ash floated on thermal currents, dusting their shoulders and hair with gray particles.
"If we stop the apocalypse, it'll get the TVA's attention, right? They'll show up, we can grab a TemPad or go with them."
"You can't stop an apocalypse." Bitter amusement colored her tone.
"I mean, I don't know if I can stop the entire planet from colliding with this moon, but with my magnetism, I might be able to slow it down. If I can push it back a day, or more, that should cause enough ripples to get their attention, right?"
Sylvie studied him.
"Tyson, the planet colliding doesn't destroy Lamentis."
Confusion crossed his features. "What?"
Sylvie turned her gaze back to the burning city. "Sure, that would happen in 2077, but it's only 2075." When she spoke again, her voice was hollow. "Lamentis-1 doesn't survive that long."
"Okay, so then what causes the apocalypse here?"
Sylvie pointed down, and Tyson followed her gesture to where another insectoid creature stalked through the burning streets. It tore through a collapsed wall to reach screaming survivors. "Those do."
"Bugs? Really?"
She sighed heavily. "It's not just bugs. It's the Annihilation Wave."
"You say that like I should know what it is."
She shook her head. "Annihilus leads them. He's a being from the Negative Zone, a parallel universe of antimatter. Think of him as a cosmic conqueror, but one obsessed with destroying all life. He believes the only way to ensure his survival is to eliminate everything else that lives." She gestured at the insectoid creatures. "These are just the scouts. The main swarm hasn't even arrived yet. When it does, it will block out the stars themselves. Billions of these things, along with worse creatures, all linked into a hive mind controlled by Annihilus."
"The Annihilation Wave is unstoppable once it starts. It moves through space like a plague, consuming everything in its path. Entire civilizations fall within hours. The bugs strip planets bare of all organic matter, breaking down everything they consume to fuel their reproduction. They're not just eating people, they're converting biomass to feed the soldiers of their swarm."
Tyson watched as another creature emerged from between buildings. "How does anyone fight something like that?"
"They don't. Not here, anyway. Lamentis never stood a chance. In an hour, the surface will be carpeted with these things. In twenty-four, there won't be a single living thing left on this moon."
"I thought the apocalypse had to be naturally occurring. But I suppose that's not true. If there's nothing and no one left, it doesn't matter."
"Exactly. The Wave is supposed to happen, supposed to destroy this place. It's a fixed point." She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "And now we're stuck here to experience it firsthand."
"What about your enchantment? Could you control one of these things?"
"Their minds are alien, connected to the hive. It would be like trying to control billions of minds at once." She rubbed her temples. "I tried once, all I got was feedback, flashes of hunger and destruction. They're not individuals. They're all one. All serving Annihilus. If you try to use illusions on them, and others are nearby, unless they all see the same thing, it won't work either."
"The Wave is just the beginning. Annihilus follows behind his swarm, leading an armada of warships that harvest whatever resources the bugs leave behind. By this time tomorrow, there won't even be ruins left. Just a stripped, lifeless rock."
Tyson stood. "Well then, I guess we'd better get to work."
Sylvie looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"Well, if we can't charge that TemPad, and we can't stop the Annihilation Wave, then we need to delay it. The same butterfly principle I mentioned earlier applies. If Lamentis is supposed to be swarmed in an hour and dead in a day, we just need to delay it that long. Something on a galactic scale like this, if we can slow it down, the effects will ripple out incredibly. Halting the Annihilation Wave on a small moon has to get noticed and have effects on an unfathomable scale. If we take something less than a footnote and make it notable, the TVA will have to come and investigate or prune."
Sylvie rose to her feet, a spark of hope igniting. "You're right, but there are billions of these things coming. How many do we need to kill to make an impact?"
Tyson flashed a dangerous smile. "Let's start with one, and see."
He leapt off the roof without hesitation. Nexus, his ninjato soulsword, appeared in his hand, materializing from nothing as he fell. He executed two perfect backflips before leaving his tuck and slicing right through one of the giant insects below, cleaving it in half with a single powerful stroke.
The creature's carapace split with a sickening crack. Viscous yellow fluid sprayed from the wound as both halves collapsed to the ground, legs twitching spasmodically.
Tyson landed in a kneeling crouch, his sword dripping with the creature's ichor. He shook the substance from his blade and looked up to see Sylvie descending more cautiously via a fire escape.
"One down. A few billion to go."
Sylvie jumped the last few feet to the ground. "Don't get cocky. They communicate. Kill one, and others will come."
As if on cue, a high-pitched chittering filled the air. From the shadows of nearby buildings, three more insectoid creatures emerged, their compound eyes reflecting the fires. They moved with eerie coordination, spreading out to surround the pair.
"Good. Saves us the trouble of hunting them down."
The creatures attacked simultaneously. Tyson felt the attack before he saw it, his spider-sense screaming a warning as the creature's claws cut through the air where his head had been. He pushed against the planet's magnetic field, launching himself upward. The motion felt like diving into a current, letting the invisible force carry him up and over the slashing appendage.
His stomach lurched as momentum shifted, gravity reasserting itself. He came down hard on the creature's back, boots finding purchase on the chitinous plating. The surface was slick, and he had to magnetize his feet to maintain his grip. Nexus materialized in his hand, the blade's familiar weight centering him even as the creature bucked and writhed beneath him. The blade sank in with no resistance.
Sylvie faced her own attacker, ducking under its initial lunge. She produced her scimitar and drove it into one of the creature's legs, severing the limb at a joint. The insect screeched, a sound like metal grinding against metal, before adjusting its attack. It swept its remaining legs in a wide arc, catching Sylvie across the midsection and sending her flying into a nearby wall. She hit hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs. The creature scuttled toward her, mandibles clicking. Sylvie rolled to the side as it struck, its appendage embedding in the wall where her head had been a moment before.
Tyson finished his opponent with a twist of his blade. He turned to help Sylvie but found himself facing the third insect. This one was larger, its carapace marked with streaks of crimson against the black. It reared up on its hind legs, towering over him, and the smell hit before the creature could. Decay and ammonia, something chemical and organic mixed together in a way that made his eyes water. Its mandibles opened, revealing layers of serrated teeth. Tyson didn't give it time to strike. He dashed forward, magnetism propelling him faster than any human could move. The acceleration pressed against his chest, force and counter-force working through his body as he threaded the needle between the creature's forelegs. Nexus led, and he felt the moment the blade connected, resistance giving way as the weapon cleaved through chitin and whatever passed for organs inside these things.
Immediately, he turned and threw Nexus, using his magnetism to guide the weapon right through the one Sylvie was fighting.
"You're going to need a sharper sword." He flicked his wrist, splattering yellow ichor from Nexus onto the ground.
She looked at the clean slice through the creature's carapace, then down at her own blade. "What the hell is that thing made out of that it cuts through them so easily?"
"Adamantium, monomolecular blade."
"Do you have another?"
Tyson snorted. He had his claws and the stinger, the long spine that extended from his wrists, inherited when he absorbed Kaine. Both were effective enough, but neither was something he could hand over. He looked at Nexus, then he looked at Sylvie, covered in yellow ichor. Watching her struggle against creatures that Nexus could cut through like paper made the decision simple, even if it felt heavier than it should.
He sighed heavily. Flipping Nexus in his hand, catching it by the blade without cutting himself. "Here." He extended the hilt toward Sylvie, the gesture deceptively casual, as though he were offering her a borrowed pen rather than something infinitely more significant. The weight of the moment pressed down on them both, heavy and unspoken. "It's more than just a sword. This weapon was forged with a piece of my soul. Do be kind to it."
Sylvie's hand hovered above the grip. Inches away. Close enough that the blue shimmer from the blade reflected in her palm. She searched his face for something. Understanding, maybe. Or permission. The seconds stretched, punctuated only by distant screams and the crackle of fire. Her throat worked as she swallowed.
"You're giving me your sword?"
"Lending." Tyson's voice was firm, but not unkind. "And only because the situation calls for it."
She wrapped her fingers around the hilt. A faint blue glow pulsed once through the blade, then again, like a heartbeat responding to her touch. The light traveled up the steel, illuminating the runes etched along its length before fading to a gentle shimmer. Her breath caught. Audible. Real.
Tyson released his hold. Sylvie tested its weight with a few experimental swings. The blade sang through the air, leaving faint blue trails in its wake.
"It's lighter than it looks." She executed a perfect thrust-and-slash combination, her movements fluid and practiced. The blade hummed in harmony with her motions.
She stopped and examined the weapon more closely, running her free hand just above the blade without quite touching it. "I can feel it like it has a presence of its own." Her voice was quieter now, almost reverent. "But it feels like… you."
The admission hung between them, intimate in a way that had nothing to do with the apocalypse burning around them. Tyson felt the connection through his magnetism, a thin thread linking him to the sword even while it was in her hands. He could sense her grip, her intent, the way she held it with both respect and determination. Something in his chest loosened. Not relief, exactly. More like recognition. She understood what he'd given her.
A distant screech drew their attention. More creatures were converging on their position, drawn by the death of their brethren. Shadows moved between buildings, accompanied by the clicking of exoskeletons against stone and metal.
"We should move. Find higher ground, somewhere defensible."
Tyson nodded toward a partially collapsed tower about half a mile away. "There. We can see them coming and control the approach."
They moved swiftly through the burning streets, avoiding open areas. The insectoids seemed to prefer ambush tactics, lurking in shadows before striking with devastating speed. Twice, they encountered smaller variants of the creatures, no larger than dogs but just as vicious. Sylvie dispatched them efficiently with Nexus, the blade slicing through their carapaces with minimal resistance.
More insectoids emerged from the shadows, drawn by the death of their kin. Five of them, then seven, moving with eerie coordination as they surrounded the building. Tyson and Sylvie moved back-to-back without needing to discuss it, falling into a combat rhythm that felt instinctive despite having just met. They worked in tandem. Tyson would magnetize one creature's legs, throwing off its balance, while Sylvie struck. She'd feint left, drawing an attack, while he severed the appendage mid-swing. Within minutes, they'd carved through all seven, yellow ichor painting the street in splattered arcs.
Tyson surveyed their work. "We make a decent team."
Sylvie nodded, wiping her scimitar on a relatively clean patch of her jacket. For the first time since they'd met, she looked almost confident. Almost hopeful.
Then the chittering started. Not from seven creatures. From hundreds.
By the time they reached the tower's base, they'd killed another dozen of the smaller creatures. Tyson's confidence had grown with each kill. They'd developed an efficient system, his magnetism controlling the battlefield while Sylvie's precision strikes finished what he'd set up. The creatures died easily enough once you understood their anatomy, where the armor plates joined, how to exploit their alien physiology.
"We can actually do this," Sylvie said, examining Nexus with something approaching satisfaction. "If they're all like these, we might be able to hold them off long enough."
Tyson wanted to agree. Wanted to believe the confidence building in his chest. But something felt wrong. These creatures were scouts, she'd said. Scouts didn't constitute an apocalypse.
He placed his palm against the metal framework of the building, feeling for structural weaknesses with his magnetic sense.
"Structure's compromised, but once we're up there, I'll see what we're working with and create a defensible position."
He grabbed hold of Sylvie and flew up to the observation deck near the top of the tower. Floor-to-ceiling windows, now partially shattered, offered a panoramic view of the devastation below. Fires burned unchecked throughout the city, and the streets teemed with the insectoid creatures. In the distance, the wreckage of the Ark smoldered.
But it was what lay beyond the city that truly captured their attention. The horizon was dark and shifting like a living thing. And within, countless dark shapes moved, a seething mass that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"The Annihilation Wave." Her knuckles whitened around Nexus's hilt. "The main swarm is arriving. Once they reach the city limits, it's over. They'll strip this place to the bedrock before dawn."
Tyson moved to stand beside her, his expression grim as he surveyed the approaching horde. As he recognized that he was staring at the swarm, his stomach dropped. The idea of fighting billions of insects was a concept he didn't truly understand until he saw the black horizon. He tried to muster more courage than he actually felt.
"We'll make our stand here." He rolled his shoulders. "All we need to do is create enough of a disturbance in the timeline to get the TVA's attention."
Sylvie pointed Nexus at the horizon. "Do you see that? Do you realize what you're proposing? Standing against the Annihilation Wave? Even the most powerful beings in the universe have fallen before it."