Dark Omega

CHAPTER 46 - COUNTERSTRIKE

Marcus stood in the stone corridor, blood dripping from his hand, the dead heaped at his feet. He waited for the real guards to arrive, seeing them draw closer in time and space, his vision piercing stone, metal, and time with equal ease.

A squad of gold-cloaked Cerberi—real ones, not infiltrators—arrived two and a half minutes after the last of Marcus's assailant fell. There were six of them in total, moving as one, their ridiculous—yet deadly—weapons raised, ready to strike against any threat to the pentacle's security.

"Show 'em," one of them shouted.

"I am not armed," Marcus said and lifted his arms, slowly. The guards surrounded him, six matter-disruptive halberds pointed at his chest.

"What happened here?" The helmet's voice modulator couldn't conceal the fact that this was a man used to command, to having his orders followed. The leader of the pack.

"They lifted their hands against the Dragon, and reaped his wrath," Marcus replied and held out the golden signet ring with the dragon rampant—the symbol of Dragon Order. "I am Quaestor Marcus Aurelian. I'm on a mission for the Assembly," he lied. "I carry the Dark Omega." That part was real enough.

The guards went from hostile via confused and uncertain to subservient in the span of a heartbeat. They say the Order is a shadow of its former self, that we are a joke, that the Dragon is not real. But when push comes to shove, you're still afraid of His wrath.

"They were posing as Dragon Order agents. But I assure you, they are not. As you can see, the Dragon is on my side, not theirs."

"Yes, Quaestor," the leader replied.

Before he could say anything more, Marcus uttered the dreaded words: "I invoke the Right of Incision."

The six guards fell back a pace, their weapons pointed anywhere but at Marcus.

"To the first degree."

"Yes, Quaestor," the six men and women replied in unison. Electronic filtering couldn't keep the relief out of their voices.

"These impostors and would-be assassins have already been executed for their crimes. Now bear witness as I consign them to the Dragon's cleansing flames."

The Cerberi couldn't move away from the fallen fast enough. Two went down on their knees, praying.

Marcus called the flames, a roaring bonfire that feasted on dead flesh, bathing the corridor in a hellish glare. I cannot let them examine the corpses. It might cast doubts as to who's serving the Order and not.

"Two of you will go stand guard outside the interrogation chamber I'm using. Anyone tries to get in, no matter who: kill them."

The guards looked at one another, their confusion evident.

"You two," Marcu said and pointed at a pair. "Go."

They spun around and ran down the smoke-filled corridor. Somewhere nearby, hidden fans whirred to life, starting to clear out the contaminated air.

"You two," he pointed at another pair, "will locate Chief Librarian Pisonis. Bring her to her quarters and make sure she remains there until I return. If she resists, you may hurt her, but not kill her. Tie her up if you have to. Go."

They snapped off a salute and ran down the corridor.

"You," Marcus said, looking at the squad leader, "will come with me to the vehicle pool. I need to do a quick errand, and I don't have time for constant security checks. See me past them without delay, or watch your men burn. The Dragon has had about enough of this place."