Lux Locus: Fractured Family
Zenith's blood feud

The headquarters of the prosecutors was going crazy. Sirens were blaring, soldiers and agents were rushing through the halls, and prayers were being made to the Administrator. The war room was faring no better, with hololights flashing wildly with every new alert that appeared in the screens, overwhelming the high ranking members of the Magus Imperators.

Dozens of agents were reporting in at once, making demands for reinforcements, additional information, and a plethora of other resources. Zenith laid back in his chair, staring apathetically into the void and twiddling his thumbs.

"Zenith! Help us!" Ehry pleaded.

"Why? You let this happen."

"Because you're here with us and we need as much processing power for these requests and reports."

Zenith sighed. "Staying here won't help us in the slightest. CLEARLY, they've been here and planning all of this for a long time." He stood up and put his hands behind his back. "So, we must band together and untie this knot as fast as possible." He leaned onto the map of the city and hummed pensively. "Followers of Blumarak will be led by the oni to the followers of Mumbass and vice versa, but we'll have small pockets doing whatever they can to acquire the favor of their people."

"Which means?" an operator asked.

The prosecutor scratched the top of his head. "Followers of Blumarak will go on killing sprees to gather as much blood and bones as they can, and followers of Mumbass will pillage and loot everything in sight. The more powerful will steal souls."

A low-tone mumbling flowed through the air, but even so, Ehry had to speak. "Steal souls?!" she repeated in disbelief. "Why would Mumbass want that and not Blumarak?"

"Because Blumarak only wants nourishment. Mumbass wants everything to be his. Objectively, of the two, Mumbass is the most dangerous."

"I agree," Morfhal said. "Civilian evacuation to the shelters is currently underway."

"What about the under city?" Zenith asked.

The two prosecutors looked at each other nervously. Morfhal readjusted his collar and Ehry cleared her throat and adjusted her stance.

"What?"

"The undercities..." Morfhal trailed off.

"The undercities are too vast and scattered to be properly evacuated."

Zenith slammed his fist on the table, disrupting the images briefly. "Are you saying all those people are helpless because you were too incompetent to make a census of everything on your own planet?!" sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"You misunderstand. We--" Morfhal tried to reason with Zenith but was interrupted.

"Misunderstand what? Laziness? Ignorance?"

"If you could just LISTEN for once," Morfhal shouted. "We didn't make a census because those below the city are too numerous and tend to hide when we try. They've created some kind of sub-culture below and, as long as we provide them with basic protection and luxuries for purchase, they tend to watch each other for any ill intentions. They're also armed with many kinds of weaponry they've obtained illegally."

A loud explosion shook the building.

"That is one of the priority reasons we still send troops down there to keep the order," Ehry added. "We still do periodic checkups to assess the state of living, but the undercity is a very...Shall we say, grounds for 'Personal Law'."

"So what? They have the weaponry to fight off the demons and followers?" Zenith wondered.

The two prosecutors nodded

"Then you best hope that the oni are only lower class, and that Gragantu or one of Mumbass' victims of his Pot of Greed don't appear."

"Gragantu?" some of the operators repeated in hushed tones.

A much more violent explosion nearly shattered the building, but the sounds of those outside snapping and crumbling could be heard clearly. Ehry immediately got to the table to bring up outside displays, and the sources of those explosions became evident. The red demons of blood were fighting with the fat, gelatinous masses of greed of Mumbass. Where the red demons had wings, the fat ones were only bouncing from rooftop to rooftop, and they were slamming into buildings let and right.

Several other displays showed the regimentarium and law enforcement members taking cover from stolen, military grade explosives that the followers clearly weren't trained to use. Another missile flew off course and into a building nearby. There was even a hellbender bathed in the blood of Blumarak and covered with sharp bones stabbed into its hull. The blood would pool into its rear cannon and lob giant balls of crystallized red, shattering into millions of razor sharp pieces into every direction and at great distances when it would hit something solid.

"We need to send out all our Afol Anda," Ehry said.

"What?!" Zenith exclaimed. "I refuse. They're as much a threat to the populace as these oni."

Ehry shook her head. She was clearly disappointed. "Then we'll make a vote."

Ehry pressed several virtual buttons on the table, and, gradually, the other twenty-three high-ranking members appeared one-by-one. The videos were a close-up of their faces, but even so, the sound of battle and monstrous roars could be heard.

"Prosecutors, you are here to make a vote, one that will most certainly save us of these horrors before they grow out of our control. Let us unleash the entirety of our Afol Anda and grant them full use of their equipment. Those who are for and those who are against?"

Every prosecutor but Zenith nodded, making the oldest living human stand out even more than he already did."

Ehry looked at him angrily then nodded. "Twenty-four-to-one. The Afol Anda shall be set free under the guidance of a prosecutor. Continue fighting to save our sanctified planet until--"

"Huh?!" One of the prosecutors yelped out.

Large, armored red fingers had grabbed around her head, head that was soon removed by a glowing sword of crimson. Zenith stood up immediately when he saw the blade, and the machinery of his body started acting up. His new arm also started to have bugs and had momentary spasms.

The head was ripped off with the sounds of wet crackling and tendon snapping. It was pulled back and held in the hand of the one responsible: An individual wearing metal armor covering only his right pectoral and right arm. The metal was an assortment of crimson and black, and was comprised of multiple sheets of metal. He wore brown pants made from baggy leather, and his head was encased in a red helmet.

His glowing red eyes were displayed through small circles, and a large mouth with lips in a zig-zag was prominently shown. The top of the helmet was adorned with two horns pointing to the back, and the surface of his left arm was covered with a spikey, gray metal, literally substituting his skin. He knelt down to get a better look at the recorder and soon looked directly at the viewers. The helmet's 'mouth' started shaking up and down until the two halves finally snapped apart and moved about, making a crumpled metal noise.

"Ahhh..." the man exhaled. From his metal mouth came a faint red haze. "New technology again." He spoke in a calm, almost hushed tone. "I hope you are watching, because this planet shall became the new blood anchor for Blumarak, and the followers of Mumbass shall be cast out. All those who refuse the embrace of the God of Blood shall not escape this planet alive."

The man picked up his sword with his left hand and sliced someone behind him in half, letting the two pieces fall in front of the recorder.

"Blumarak has stated, in his good will, that any 'civilians' shall not be bloodletted for ten Earth hours. We shall still, however, kill any followers of the fat god." He grabbed the recorder to better center on his disturbing 'face'. "And Zenith, I know you're here. I'll go kill Tzinma, recover his soul, and will finally reunite the family, as Blumarak promised me. Be patient. We haven't had a reunion like this in centuries." Rubbing his chin, the follower wagged his finger. "As I can recount, we still have a sister. I want to know where she is, and you will tell me eventually. See you soon."

He dropped the recorder back into position and turned away, sword and head in hand. The man took a long look at said head, pondering anything he could do with it, but shook his own head and crushed it between his fingers.

The man spoke his thoughts, which were almost impercetible due to background noise and the distance to the recorder."I still need to find our sister, though."

"Who was that?" Ehry yelled. "How does he know your name, and what did he mean by 'family reunion'."

All eyes were on Zenith now, and the man was none too pleased with everything happening. His fists were balled tensely, and the machinery serving as his body whirred and spewed out mana.

"That was Kormsin, my brother."

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