The Wielder of Death Magic

The chopper, a luxury model named U93-1 equipped with an automatic fire-response unit or AFR for short, a technology developed by Phantom’s research group. One that was hidden from the public as it was one of the many aces kept up their sleeves. The AFR was a spirit derived from the imprisonment of Mana, a sub-topic of the Theory of Mana-Dispersal. It allowed the host to capture any sentient mana-existence to form a contract of which they turned into the brain of a section, a vehicle, or a weapon; the situation varied. Phantom’s current attack and defense system were automated, as to not get into greater detail, a spirit named Eclair was the head-of-all AFR readied equipment. Any normal spirit would have broken due to the sheer pressure. Not Eclair for he was the opponent that fought against Intherna, a mid-tiered demon with the strength of a Demi-God. Long were the days where human intervention was necessary. Well, the use of humans was required all around the globe except for Phantom. The company was far more dangerous than kingdoms themselves.

U93-1 was soon to fly over to Rotherham. The roads below were big and filled with cars. Next to it on elevated tracks, trains moved without sound. Powered by Mana-engine, a collaboration between Elendor and Phantom. Mark IV Elstaltion, the project name for a mana-powered train. The tracks didn’t need any specificities for the train to do the work. Silvery-white against the blackened tarmac, a dart piercing the veil of normality to the realm of endless possibilities.

As the train turned right, U93-1 took a sharp left into Rotherham. The town of hoodlums or what was its prior reputation. From housing thugs to now factories of which spewed heavy twirling pillars of smoke, one that reached up high into the heavens, a sickness predicted to consume the planet itself. Laid out in order to promote efficiency, many o’ companies had their plants build in Rotherham. The town was now heavily industrial. On foot, it’d have taken 15 hours to walk from one end to another, and on car about 2-5 hours depending on traffic. An approximate to give a vague idea of how big the town had grown. The expansion was to the Southeast. The big shots knew not to go North West, even the thugs were scared at adventuring around those parts.

Smoothly dodging the smoke, the U93-1, after escaping the hell of production had a gigantic compound in sight. The previous airfield, hosting two-runway, was copied two more times to the north. It now held six-runways; the hangars were secluded in a differing compound to the West. After the run-way, still going to the north, three sky-scrapers of 60 floors, erect with, *Phantom,* written on each office buildings. Beside the skyscrapers of which were of a shape streamlined into a sharp-triangle atop, another massive compound. One with buildings ranging from 5 stories to 8 stories high. A mini-town in of itself, *Phantom’s Research Section,* was written on the gate to the compound. Separated by four-lane roads, the place was massive. Amidst all the sharp-looking buildings with dark-blue windows; a library with a dome-shaped roof next to brick-red slated roof buildings. The architecture mimicked many o’ universities in Rosespire. It was Phantom’s University. A place where future scholars would study. The admission was private. Only 3 to 5 exceptional students picked from Sky United, a celebrated university, were given the option. The efforts came with a lot of money though bound to secrecy.

The chopper soon landed on a helipad on the 30th floor that protruded out the side of the main office. The wind blew harsh, Eira and Viola stepped out to a row of guards armed to the teeth. The glares were chilly, even more so than the wind itself.

“Boss, welcome back,” said a lady dressed formally. Her hair tied in a pony-tail with help of a hairclip of which had a small diamond dangle.

.....

“Feels good to be back,” he replied with a big inhale. A stare down the side showed how high they were.

“I suppose I’ll be leaving,” said Eira with a nod.

“A car shall be waiting downstairs,” replied Cake with a gesture. A guard soon came to escort her away.

“I need to run some errands, goodbye,” without notice, Viola jumped off the side and sprouted wings. She worked as a trainer for Adventurers of Plaustan. A job she took perchance for the Tower of Aria took more lives.

“How long has it been?”

“I don’t know,” a cold reply came with the door opening automatically. A singular hallway followed by an elevator. The latter came with a ding, and off was Staxius to his office at the top of the tower.

Floor 60, a place above the clouds with casual sights of blimps over the horizon. The layout matched Kniq’s headquarters, a tribute to his old-guild. The only difference was that the rooms were twice as big.

“Was the visit fruitful?” asked Cake who was soon to sit behind a desk.

“I suppose,” he said and shuffled to the edge of which was glass giving into the open sky. One protected by barriers of which was controlled by the AFR. Phantom, over the five years, grew. The compound and buildings were proof enough, however, it didn’t do justice. The amount of money they made in the war was unthinkable. It reached in the billions in terms of assets. To that, a new currency was instated, Hidros used Exa. 1 Gold coin equated to 10 Exa. Thus, the new world began. Other kingdom’s around the world adopted the same idea. The exchange rate varied. For example, the U93-1 was worth 235,000 gold, which translated into 2,350,000 million Exa. As for the Phantom’s current worth, the information was kept secret. One of the sky-scrapers cost 10,000,000 Gold to build, 100,000,000 Exa.

Sat and relaxed, a single toggle had the table display a multiple of hovering screens. Five years of sheer research, how everything grew made many open their jaw. Rockets took to space, satellites that tracked the globe placed in orbit, evolution at its finest. Magic in accordance with Science, both leading their own field to better the survivability of the world. A concept talked only in idealism and fantasy for the real truth was warfare. More power, more strength, and more carnage. Tis was the real face of the world, a place that would suffer by the hands of its inhabitants. Their countless war, their insatiable greediness, it sufficed to make one’s stomach turn.

The leader of Phantom, Staxius, did naught but sit. Cake handled everything, from recruitment to sale and production. His focus was on gathering more people, more qualified individuals with the prospect of fame and fortune. Revered as the Hero-King, the words were worth their weight. Many spoke of his courage and many spoke of the thirst for killing.

Meanwhile, far, far away from Hidros. Near the little park turned haunted attraction. A couple, of which held a girly man and a fox-eared lady, strolled around the pavement of which was masked by dirt. Puddles of water gathered at blocked drains that served as a hazard for vehicles driving without care. It sprayed the murky gathering onto the walls. It crept as if stopped by time, the addition of the downpour all but helped in dirtying the once-spotless walls. Windows hidden by stained curtains; a small pub named Mom’s love.

The door pushed opened with a ringing of a bell. Inside sat rough-looking individuals with either bandages or battle-scars. The couple walked without hesitance. Glares turned to softened cream, “-how’s it going, Avon and Auic, ya’ll good?” asked him who sat at the front.

“Yeah,” smiled Avon who took off the wet-trenched coat, “-long time no see, old man Cap.”

“I see that Auic is still as lovely as always,” said the lady behind the counter, a fellow demi-human with wolf-ears.

“Mama,?? added Auic with a step forward, “-let me help,” she darted behind the counter to the kitchen.

“Look at you,” said Mama with wrinkled cheeks, “-poor Avon boy, should you not return to Hidros?” her mouth and hands moved independently as she mixed the batter.

“Drop it, grandma,” said Old man Cap, “-the boy is tired enough,” he smiled reassuringly, “-go on, have a seat,” he moved over.

“Thanks,” smiled Avon, “-Auic and I are truly grateful for the hospitality.”

“Ain’t no need for that,” came a reply across the room, the other guests rose their head, “-we’re all fellow companions from Hidros. Our motherland is what binds us together,” they cheered.

“Hell YEAH!” screamed old man Cap, “-another round of beer for my fellow mates,” he said.

“There you go again,” chuckled Mama, “-always patriotic that’s for sure.” A small television recounted biased and propagandistic news of the current state between Kreston and Hidros.

“I tell you, Mama,” said the flushed Old man Cap, “-I always knew Kreston was up to something. That pope and their gods felt artificial... hicc.”

“The old man is down already?” said one of the younger visitors with laughter as the backdrop.

“He’s out for the count,” smiled Avon who had given a shoulder to the drunken man, “-I’ll take him to his room.”

“You’re a darling, aren’t cha.”

The duo struggled and shuffled upstairs to a narrowed hall. Many o’ door where many guests resided. A pub on the ground floor and apartment atop. A necessary step since Paradus ordered a cleansing of those who bore inhuman features. It was his way of saying fuck you to Hidros and their multi-racial society. The discrimination birthed from said order led from one thing to another. Massacres, bodies dumped in ditches, the holy cleansing turned to bloodshed. None was allowed to live. The harshness of the status of life was never disclosed to the public as demi’s lived in the abandoned sector 20. A place for the rejected, those alienated, those not care nor treated as living beings. A place where Auic and Avon called home, a place where many similar pubs and groups formed. They relied on one another to survive. Avon was one of the luckier folks thanks to the knowledge in magic. The Order reached out and employed him as a tutor for kids of nobles. A job that paid good but didn’t come with shelter. Thus, he turned to Mama for assistance.

Opened brusquely, the man was soon to subconsciously move to the bed. ‘Five years,’ he thought and stared out a small window to the coming dusk, ‘-we ran away selfishly. I wonder how Master is doing. Auic and I are living rather comfortably. Her noble blood allows her to hide her demi-human features. In the eye of the empire, we’re a normal couple. Sector 20, dark and always suffering, a melancholic settlement, the place I call home. Master, I hope you well.’

“Avon, come down already, we’ve got meat tonight.”

‘Auic,’ he stood, ‘-you’re the best,’ the door shut, ‘-I love you.’