Cabal of the Phoenix (6 of 8)

Predictions

Mission parameters completed, Carr and I are on our way out.

Good, I'll move the van into position in exactly one-minute.

Okay, we'll be there.

Cortland and Sebastian both heard the conversation in their heads and stood up, ready to move. Cortland's large frame rose with determination, yet not quite a purposed one, whereas Sebastian's rise was heralded by a more grim demeanor which knew and was ready for what was yet to come.

Cortland reached out and caught his friend’s shoulder. "Sebastian, what exactly is our role here? You said we were the extraction cover team, but I don't see how they need us. According to the mission parameters, Nathan, Carr, and Damon should have already taken care of everything."

Sebastian turned to Cortland and smiled a slow, cocky smirk. "Not everyting goes 'cordin' ta mission parameters, Cort."

"What do you mean?" Cortland asked.

"I'm sayin' sometin' went wrong," Sebastian rasped.

"What are you talking about? The man inside?"

"Nah, dat be taken care o' fine."

"So what then?"

"Everytin', anytin',” Sebastian shrugged. “You always gotta figure dat sometin’ go wrong. Sometin' you couldna planned on."

"Sebastian, you must have more faith than that."

"Faith ain't practical, Cort."

"How about positive thinking then, Sebastian. If—"

"First of all, you don' really expect Lee ta get everytin' out of a top Syndicate officer jus' by trowin' herself all over him, do ya?" Sebastian continued before Cortland could respond. "Course not—dere's always sometin' you leave out, sometin' you hold inside you."

"How could you possibly know that?" Cortland said.

Sebastian shrugged again. "Common sense,”

"I didn't -- "

"You done ever read Sherlock Holmes?"

"Of course," Cortland said.

"Everyting he said was perfectly simple once he explained it all. Dis is no diff’rent. It's common sense, you just ain't tought of it."

"Possibly," Cortland mused.

"Now shut yo mouth for a sec. I need ta concentrate."

Cortland nodded and waited patiently, as he felt Sebastian's avatar pulse and work its magick.

Sebastian opened his mind to his Correspondence magick, letting his senses weave through the surrounding area, allowing him a simultaneous view of everything around him, from the street block to his left and right, to the front of the office building before him, to the bus stop and Cortland behind him. Content in this, Sebastian pushed his senses further, separating the strands of time, wading through the rivers of future presents like a man would pull himself through normal space to walk from place to place. Sebastian melded the two visions, looking into the future of the same Corresponding area; he walked through the subsequent moments, looking further and further until he found what he was looking for. On both his left and right flanks, he saw two men dressed in black trenchcoats approach from the shadows. The shadows meant little to his Correspondence, which more sensed spatial relations then it actually saw them: though conscious of the dark of night, he could 'see' them just fine, regardless of the amount of ambient light. Sebastian stopped moving through time and studied the men. They appeared to have a similar, if not identical look: dressed in the same attire, each carrying themselves in the same, stiff way. Sebastian activated his Spirit sense, using that power to sense the true nature and spirit of the beings he was examining. What he saw were not actually humans at all, but rather four metal automatons. That was enough for him to know what they were, but he wanted to be sure. He glanced at them with Prime magick, drawing upon the very primal force of magick itself; sure enough, they all sparkled with ordered magick. Just what he had been afraid of: HIT Marks. The automatons were magickal cyborgs, created by the Technocracy: laced with magick-resistant metals, meant specifically to be mage killers. As Sebastian dropped back into the present view, he marked the time.

Only moments after he had entered his trance, Sebastian dropped back out. "HIT Marks," he muttered.

"What?" Cortland said, confused.

"No time ta fuck aroun'. Two from da east an’ two from da west. You roll dat way," Sebastian said, pointing to his left. "An’ I'll go de other." Take 'em down hard an' fast. No time ta explain. Dey'll be here in another tirty seconds."

"So this has been our job all along," Cortland said.

Sebastian shrugged. "More o' less."

Sebastian held out his hand and Cortland knew why. Cortland reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a toy gun, no longer than a couple of inches: a mock shotgun. He waved his other hand over it, taking hold of the molecular structure of the thing and stretched it, decompressing the atoms and substructures, returning the weapon to its original size.

Sebastian took the full-sized shotgun. "Tanks," he said.

Cortland only nodded. Seemingly from nowhere, he pulled out a broadsword. At the same time, the Falcon came to perch on his shoulder with a squawk. He looked back at Sebastian.

Concentrating, tapping into his magick again, Sebastian held his hands out towards Cortland and his familiar and pulled them all through time, creating a pocket of existence that for the time being was in a reality that was much faster paced than the rest of the world.

"That should give us a little extra Time," Sebastian said.

"May God be with you," Cortland said.

Sebastian merely grunted and nodded politely as he turned.

As Cortland and Sebastian moved forward, a van seemed to roll up in slow motion, moving too slow at first, and then only almost imperceptibly rolling to a stop. As Cortland walked by the driver's side door, Lee turned slower than he would have believed possible; she looked fairly alarmed at seeing his sword ready and he almost laughed as he watched her expression come to him. The Chorister motioned, as slow as he could, for her to stay put.

Cortland shuffled back to the opposite side of the street, figuring that they would not be looking back there for the intruders. He was right. In a few more moments, two HIT Marks came walking through the shadows towards the office building. Making his last preparation, Cortland used his knowledge of Forces to view the infrared spectrum, giving him better nightvision. The two barely glowing humanoid structures marched onward, oblivious to his presence. His first instinct was to lash out with Matter magick and rip apart their mechanical forms. He followed that instinct. He focused on the one closest to him and reached out to its mechanical sum, sensing all of its intricate formations and pushed: pulling and tearing, hoping that when he was done, nothing would be left. Only too late, as he sensed his surprising failure, did he remember that the HIT Mark was designed with significant reserves of counter-magic to deflect just such an attack. The automatons were not just metal killing machines, they were magickally charged metal killing machines. The spell had no effect.

Immediately, the HIT Mark that would have been affected turned and stared directly at Cortland, alerting the other to the mage's presence. Cortland would have been in big trouble, had the Falcon not flown directly at the two, startling them and catching them off guard. Their mechanical logic dictated that they must analyze any variable, before taking action. This respite gave Cortland time to think, and more importantly, time to act. Before they knew what was on them, Cortland rushed forward, his huge frame suddenly being covered by metal armor, not regular clothing. Since he was at least three times faster than they were, he could easily afford the time to concentrate on shielding himself as he moved.

The Chorister dropped his shoulder and rammed the same HIT Mark that had sensed him, driving it into the wall of the office building, stunning it with both his power and speed: both of which Cortland knew could be great allies in battle. Before the other HIT Mark could respond, Cortland turned and instinctively swung the sword in his mighty arms, cleaving the automaton's head clear off. He turned back to the first one, and saw him struggling to get up. Cortland swung his sword again, but the automaton dodged the attack, ducking backwards. Only the attack was a feint, and out of the arc of the blade came a great bolt of energy, which catching the HIT Mark unaware, fried him, leaving him burning and sizzling: out of commission.

Cortland turned back to the van to see a surprised Carr and Nathan looking between him and Sebastian. The Falcon returned to his shoulder; Cortland whispered thoughts of thanks for the timely save.

Sebastian had played his cards differently. He had faced HIT Marks before and was well aware of their counter-magick properties. He also knew that magick which did not directly affect them could not be countered. Thus he brought his gun to bear, still using his Correspondence to see them, only he then opened his sense of Entropy and saw the probabilities lined up before him. He saw the HIT Mark and the area around him like a targeting grid, small squares, of which he might hit. He selectively weeded out the ones he didn't want and one by one ended up with the square directly over its chest, and let go the shot in the one spot that would do the most possible damage. The shotgun blast was perfectly delivered right to the HIT Mark's torso, which subsequently exploded with a small roar and a shower of sparks.

Wasting no time, Sebastian ran up to the other HIT Mark; it took the regular-time automaton the time Sebastian got up to him to compute that he was even approaching. Instead of firing again, Sebastian tossed the gun at his enemy, who by natural instinct, caught it. Taking advantage of its confusion, Sebastian dropped down, striking the cyborg with a powerful leg sweep, and knocked it off of its feet. His hyper-speed allowed Sebastian to again move even before the attack could be even predicted. Knowing that the HIT Mark was confused, Sebastian utilized his Entropy magick to break down and destroy the order of the machinery inside the HIT Mark. While the HIT Mark had the powerful ability to resist, Sebastian was also more of an experienced mage than Cortland, and had the ability to break through that defense: shredding the internal components of the HIT Mark, infusing its ordered structure with pure Chaos.

Not even waiting to see the thing explode, Sebastian got up and strolled away. As Carr and Nathan walked out of the building and right toward the van, the HIT Mark exploded in a short but intense volley of fireworks.

"What the -- " Carr blurted.

"Everytin's under control," Sebastian said evenly.

"Yes, sir," Nathan muttered, looking back and forth between Sebastian and Cortland.

"Everyone in da van, birds included," Sebastian ordered. The others eagerly complied. Looking away from the van, Sebastian again used his Spirit sense to see into the Near Umbra (that spirit world which though separate, mirrored reality), where Damon was. The Ecstatic was standing directly next to Sebastian in the Near Umbra, and at the same time, glancing at the prime Tellurian from the Umbra; somewhere in-between the two met and Sebastian jerked his head to the side, motioning to the Ecstatic.

A shimmering portal appeared and Damon fell through the Umbra back into the prime reality. "Is everything okay?" He asked. "I don't know how I missed them."

"I's all right, Damon. I knew someone come pay us a visit."

"How?" he asked.

"Murphy's Law," Sebastian rasped.

"Hunh?"

"Ask Cortlan'," Sebastian said.

"Let's roll," Lee shouted from the front of the van.

"Uh-huh," Sebastian said, as Damon jumped into the van. Sebastian did the same and closed the sliding door behind him.