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121 - Epilogue: Mies Del Dolor

 
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Tullaryx

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PostPosted: Sun Apr 04, 2010 1:59 am    Post subject: 121 - Epilogue: Mies Del Dolor Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

The so-called war which he had been observing was ending or, at the very least, close to it as any war usually ends in. His attempts to try and influence some of it didn't go very well right from the start. His own pawns, meager as they were, taken out early or ineffective. He wasn't a survivor for most of his life for putting his neck out where it could get chopped off. An assassin's blood flowed through his veins even if it was not mixed with a sort of immortality.

So far, he has been able to keep his identity a secret. When it was necessary to sacrifice entire sections of his organizations he did so. While some actively involved in the struggle for domination of the planet might have had their suspicions about a side party trying to take advantage they never could pin him down. His own personal guards, the Blood Pacts left no clue as to who they truly worked for. For those trying to figure things out they were rogue teams of mercenaries who worked for someone or someones.

He had made sure that any caught alive never got a chance to be tortured for information. It helped that his blood, however diluted, allowed him to burn them from the inside out. A part of him regretted such sacrifices, but it also amused him to see a sort of confusion and creeping dread in those who witnessed his people's sudden spontaneous immolation.

"Sir, your plane is ready and waiting for you at the airfield," his personal assistant spoke behind him as he watched the experiments continue below his observation room. "I believe that if we leave now we should be able to make it San Francisco."

"Wait for me in the helicopter," Lionel instructed his assistant. "I'll be there shortly."

He didn't need to turn around and make sure his command was obeyed. If his assistant had one virtue it was the ability to obey his orders without hesitation. Lionel returned to watching the experiments below him.

Scientists in his employ continued to monitor the test subjects and made adjustments and calculations. These scientists were both newly hired and blood-bonded in addition to survivors of the initial team which discovered the pathogen which had seeped in through the vortex. Even despite the fire-cleansing of the debacle from weeks back he could still smell the remnants of the blood which had sprayed and decorated the lab areas below.

Some of the very test subjects the new team were monitoring were once colleagues of theirs who had become infected. While these test subjects were now bound, tied and secured tightly to their gurneys he recalled just an hour past just how free to roam their area they had been. While sluggish and staggering in their locomotion they still had enough strength to rip into the bait brought into their area.

The homeless of San Francisco provided amble supply of bait for the experiments. He noticed that those loose into a test chamber with one reanimate ended up becoming one as well despite major loss of tissue and organs. From the numbers crunched by the team a body could still reanimate as long as the brain was intact. Locomotion was a possibility as long as most of the limbs were intact enough to support weight. Those homeless put into a test chamber with several reanimates never had enough body mass or a brain to reanimate.

What he had been observing for the past couple weeks could potentially have stopped the fighting between the factions. It also would've unleashed a plague on this world that would've been difficult, if not near impossible, to contain and stop. The original strain of the pathogen were already sent out in tamper-proof containers to every major city around the world. Spells of protection and seals of his most potent spells made sure the containers didn't release their contents by accident. Only one event would cause them to open and when that time came he cared not what happened to this world. Such an event was to be his fail-safe doomsday gift to this world.

Lionel took one last look at the going-ons below him. A new more stable strain would be found soon enough. A strain that could be engineered to target only those he marked. Such a strain could be made into a weapon and sold to the highest bidder if he ever thought to share and profit from it. Until he made that decision the pathogen and its apocalyptic effect would have to remain his secret and ace.

His attempts to leave this particular world and dimension was still an on-going process. Sooner or later he will find the solution to his problem, but even he knew that sooner or later his presence would be discovered and when that happens there's a chance he will need to use his ace to buy himself more time. If and when that decision had to be made this world would see and experience a harvest of sorrow to end all harvests. Even death will not be an escape.

"Start the engines," Lionel called up to his assistant who was already in the chopper. "I'm headed up."
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