T—OM…
The voice dragged through his skull like a blunt knife.
Tom jolted awake.
Pain hit first. Not as sharp as before. It felt weak—distant—Like the thing speaking to him was far away now. Tom's mind lingered in a haze, caught between waking and the memory of the voice.
…CAN Y–OU… HE—AR… ME…
Tom stared at the assembly hall ceiling above him.
…ULTR—U… 'IS… C–ONT—ROL…
Static swallowed the words.
…NEX—US…
Then silence.
Tom blinked slowly.
"…Right."
He rubbed his forehead.
"You vanish for ages, then come back chatting cryptic shit about a Nexus."
Nothing answered him.
Typical.
What is a 'nexus' anyway? The word echoed in Tom's mind, strange yet familiar, as if it resonated internally. Was it a place? A person? Lost in thought, Tom missed the slow warmth spreading through his leg. He looked and saw the bandages shifting; the flesh underneath moved.
His leg—
was healing.
Bruising faded. The bone straightened. Muscle fibres knitted. Heat emitted from the wounds, not overbearing, but sharp like small pins poking at his flesh. Tom noticed that the nurse from before was standing a few beds away.
Staring.
Her clipboard slipped slightly in her hands, but she clenched it tight to stop it. In an instant, looking to either side, she scurried over to Tom.
"…What the fuck?" she whispered.
Tom glanced at her with a smile.
"What's wrong, mush? Never seen a leg heal in real time?"
The nurse just stood there. Mouth slightly open. Trembling slightly, her eyes were locked on Tom's leg, bewildered as muscle fibres stretched and flesh moulded around it. A foot formed swiftly, and toes shot out at the end. He twitched the new toes before moving the leg around.
Good as new.
Tom sat himself up and nearly giggled as the pain faded to nothing. The rush from healing left him light and almost giddy.
The nurse fell backwards slightly, but caught herself.
"How… did you…"
"Did what?" Tom stretched his arms overhead. "What you on about?"
"You need to tell some—."
Slow and relaxed, Tom leaned closer—stopped. The poor woman looked like she'd seen a ghost. He grasped her soft chin with his index finger and thumb. She froze, her eyes shifted between one eye and the other. Tom leaned in again—
and kissed her.
Quick.
Soft.
Her eyes shot open, then closed as her system rebooted. Tom pulled away slowly. Her skin glowed redder than a cherry as she slowly opened her eyes.
"Promise you won't tell anyone?" Tom whispered gently.
The nurse stared at him in stunned silence.
Then slowly nodded.
"Mhmm"
Tom slipped a pen out of her pocket and scribbled a number on her clipboard.
"There." He winked. "I'll tell you all about it over dinner."
"Mhmm" Air passed out of her nose giddily as she tried to contain herself.
"Anyway, where's your toilets, darlin'?"
She lifted her hand mechanically.
"…th-that way…"
"You star. Thank you."
Leaving the nurse and the hall behind, Tom jogged over to the bathroom, one leg poking out of his ripped trouser leg. The bathroom was empty—just as he hoped. But he checked the stalls anyway; it would be a pain in the arse if anyone caught wind of his other identity. And thankfully—
it was empty.
Tom stepped toward the mirror and observed his appearance.
His clothes were worn and covered in blood. So too was his face; dry blood permeated his lips, nostrils, and forehead, and some even leaked into his hair and painted red highlights among the brown. And his eyes. Dragged down by dark bags and wrinkles. Tom looked at his reflection for a long time, unable to muster a single witty remark. It looked like someone dragged him off the street.
Oh Wait…
They did, didn't they.
Tom took a deep breath in—out. Counting to ten in a whisper, he relaxed his body and mind. A tickling sensation walked from his fingertips to his head, then back down to his toes.
He opened his eyes.
Red—Red as the roaring fires of hell. Aura exploded outward in burning waves that cracked across the tiled walls. Red energy crawled over his skin like living flame. His reflection vanished beneath the glow.
A thought echoed in his mind. Where did this actually come from? He caught a brief, searing flash—the memory always came disjointed.
Cold rain.
The stink of burning metal in the air.
The burning pain in his chest.
The taste of blood in his mouth.
He bit his lip so hard that a single bead of crimson rolled down his chin, buried under the sea of violent red.
The bathroom door opened as a man stepped inside—stopped dead.
"…Holy shit."
One foot after the other, Tom walked to the bathroom door. The man flattened himself against the wall immediately—Good boy—Tom didn't give him so much as a look.
Tom emerged from the bathroom a new man. Instantly, people turned. Phones whipped out of pockets as quickly as whispers spread through the hall. A smile slowly crept across his face. The red aura rolled off him in waves as he strutted through the shelter.
The nurse from earlier stared at him. His mind felt clear. He pointed at her, then shifted his hand into the shape of a phone with his pinky and thumb—placed it against his ear.
She nearly collapsed.
Suddenly, he was interrupted. A woman stepped in front of him, and her long black coat followed. Her sharp grey eyes—that matched the white dye in her hair—gazed straight into Tom's.
"You're him, aren't you?"
Tom looked her up and down.
"Move, love. I've got shit to sort out."
Voss stepped aside immediately.
"…Thank God."
Tom paused.
"Hm?"
"With you here, I think this war is just about over."
Tom blinked once.
"…Guess we'll just have to see, won't we. Anyway, toodles."
He kept walking.
The shelter exit opened—the fresh air of the outside that he'd craved for so long embraced him/
MEI soldiers turned instantly. They were spread out in specific positions—not too close, not too far. The whole street fell silent as their eyes widened out of their sockets. But after a few seconds—
They cheered.
Loud.
Boisterous.
Tom stopped.
"…Ohoho. Don't worry, fellas, felitas, I have returned—"
A woman pushed through the crowd.
Older.
Sharp posture.
Authority bled off her.
"—and these dickheads ain't—huh?"
She stopped the second she saw him.
"…It's you."
Tom tilted his head.
"What, the handsome one over here? Yeah, that's me."
"The…the one from the school…"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Tom waved a hand. "How can I help?"
She swallowed.
"You're far more crass than I expected—but I digress—The University of Arts campus. We lost contact with multiple squads."
Tom frowned slightly.
"Where?"
She pointed across the skyline.
"Over that way."
Tom nodded once.
Then vanished upward.
BOOM.
The street exploded beneath him as he launched into the sky; the city blurred beneath him.
Wind screamed past.
Suddenly, gunfire—below.
Pinned behind a wrecked transport vehicle, a small group of soldiers were being surrounded by three four-armed behemoths. Tom hovered overhead.
He grinned—finally. It's been a while; this was the perfect opportunity to oil the hinges.
Then he dropped.
Fast.
The first alien looked up—
Too late.
Tom grabbed its head and slammed.
SPLAT.
Brains scattered across the asphalt.
The second leaned into its back foot.
Tom flicked his hand sideways.
Red energy tore through the alien and launched it through a shop window.
Glass exploded outward.
The third swung.
Tom weaved under it smoothly—
then uppercut.
The alien vanished upward like a missile.
Gone.
The soldiers stared, as words failed them.
One finally managed—
"Th-thank you—"
The word resonated within Tom. It was a new feeling—a strange warmth in his chest—but not from the power. Tom tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about it, muffin."
Then flew off again immediately.
Grossaint rushed beneath him like a treadmill. He sliced through opposition like butter.
Alien camps.
Burning buildings.
Monsters.
Tanks.
And through all of it—
Tom smiled.
He felt lightheaded, drifting among the clouds. He had no weakness; he didn't fear anything. Nothing could stop him.
For once in his life—
He had complete control.
Another alien camp came into view ahead.
Barricades.
Turrets.
Soldiers.
Weapons turned toward him instantly.
They fired.
The bullets evaporated against his aura before they even touched him.
Tom laughed.
The metal barricade splintered upon impact, slicing through the alien soldier's armour.
The ones still standing fired again.
Tom stood, arms wide. The rounds pounded against him weightlessly.
Then—
There was a loud thud in the distance.
The aliens turned instantly.
Up ahead, a bright violet flash, like a nuclear bomb had just detonated in the middle of the city.
It got larger—
larger.
And closer—
closer.
Until it hit him.
The wave passed him—first warm, then agonising.
He smashed into the ground on one knee instantly.
"GHH—!"
"GHHHAAAHHHH!"
Everything burned.
His skin.
His chest.
His skull.
A scream pierced his ears.
High-pitched.
Never-ending.
His head felt as if it were about to split open.
His aura flickered violently.
The aliens stopped firing.
Just stared.
Tom clenched his teeth.
"What…the fuck…"
Then—
it stopped.
Silence.
Tom breathed heavily.
Smoke curled from his body.
The aliens slowly raised their weapons again.
Tom looked up.
Annoyed now.
He threw both arms outward.
Red energy erupted.
The soldiers blasted apart in every direction.
Tom rose slowly into the air.
Above the skyline—
Massive metallic vessels hung low above the city. Dead still. They weren't firing, or anything; It was like they were waiting for something.
Then something else caught his eye. A massive black swarm twisted in the distance, coiling into a large dome. Was it protecting something? Either way, he could see the campus next to it anyway.
"…Found you."
He launched towards it.
The dome was made of spiders—
Millions.
All ticking endlessly like a clock on cocaine. He felt sick to his stomach.
Why did it have to be spiders?
Tom raised a hand.
Fired.
A hole tore through the swarm.
Sunlight pierced through.
Then he saw him.
Purple.
Standing below.
Tom flew downward slowly.
The aura around the other entity moved differently. Where Tom's own aura scorched the air with jagged, violent bursts, like a wave crashing into a cliff's edge, this was almost tranquil. It shimmered in a deep violet haze, spiralling in slow, calming currents. Gentle and cool, the purple light pulsed in soft ripples, like moonlit fog rolling just above the grass after rain. For a moment, Tom felt as though the atmosphere itself grew quieter around the other man, the purple energy dampening the noise and brightening the shadows.
Tom stopped in front of him.
"…You must be the other one he spoke about."
The purple entity looked up.
"So it spoke to you, too?"
"Yep." Tom shrugged. "Saved my life n'all. But forget that—what the hell is going on 'ere?"
The swarm spiralled wildly around them.
The purple entity looked upward.
"It's some kind of artificial lifeform. It's been hunting me down."
Tom pointed upward.
"That?"
"Yeah."
The entity rubbed the back of his neck.
"First, it looked like a monster. Then it looked like me. Then looked like…"
Tom snorted.
"A fucking mess."
The being laughed quietly through his nose.
"…Yeah."
Tom cracked his knuckles.
"Well? How do we kill it?"
The other looked back at the swarm.
"…I don't know."
Above them—
The spiders suddenly shifted.
Fast.
Violent.
Converging inward.
Tom began to levitate upwards—the other followed.
Alien shuttles tried escaping the area—
pillars of spiders shot down—
dragged them screaming into the mass.
Metal folded.
Ships crushed.
The swarm absorbed everything. Pillars slammed down to the ground, picking up tanks, buildings, debris; even the city itself wasn't safe. The swarm moulded them—transformed them into armour plating formed around the central mass.
Huge.
Black.
Three massive heads pushed outward from the centre, jaws stretching into dragon-like shapes lined with moving spider-fangs. Tentacles made of thousands of small spiders burst from its sides.
The thing blotted out the skyline.
Tom's stomach turned to ice as he stared at the monstrosity in front of him. His chest was tight with a cold, animal fear that tried to drag his breath from his lungs. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but he held fast, sweat prickling cold along the back of his neck as his eyes widened in a mixture of horror and awe.
He had to say something; otherwise, he would be stuck in his own head.
"…Ugly bastard, isn't he?"
George let out another small wary laugh.
One of the heads slowly turned toward them.
Then roared.
The sound shook the city.