Chapter 237: Pit Stop (Patreon)

Just because Perry had a brutal adventure to a plane full of demons that he couldn’t remember, and happened to piss off a bigwig in the process, didn’t mean real life slowed down for anyone.

After a long day of destroying all the secret labs that Perry knew of and working on defensive measures against further soul-sucking, Perry headed home.

“Daddy!” Sera shrieked, diving into Perry’s stomach as he entered the living room.

Perry picked up his daughter and threw her giggling over his shoulder as he walked in.

“How’s High Tide in Chicago going?” Perry asked, approaching the couch, where Heather was splayed out in exhaustion, her hair more frazzled than usual. He supposed it was an insensitive question given her appearance.

She peeled an eye open and peered up at him.

“About as good as you can expect for an entire city with only a handful of supers holding the place together. A rat in the sewers became super-intelligent and established a trade route between themselves and the ‘surface apes.’”

“Sounds harmless.”

“Smuggling illegal goods.”

“Ah.”

“I tried to explain why they shouldn’t do it, but they’re fixated on the profit margins, and they’re stubborn as hell.”

“Heh.”

“One of the human immigrants Triggered. Some kid from a family who rode the train to Chicago to get away from all the chaos.”

Perry sucked a breath though his teeth. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, he turned into magma and went on a rampage until Nat made some heat-absorbing cuffs that could get him under control.”

“Family still alive?”

“Yeah, thank God. They’re native Frankliners, so they knew to duck and run as soon as the kid Triggered.

“Well, that’s good.”

“On the other hand, the natives are not native born Frankliners, so the kid burning several buildings and bystanders has made them sour on supers a bit.”

“Hmm…” Perry scowled. “It’s kind of like when people win the lottery, you’re okay with it because you know you might win one day if you keep buying tickets, but if you know there’s no chance you’ll ever win the lottery because you’re an android, it could make things a bit sour.”

Heather snapped her fingers. “Yeah.”

“The Minder commune?” A lot of Minders had chosen to move out of Washington, and since Franklin wouldn’t take them, went to Chicago. Perry didn’t tell any of the natives, because to the natives, Minders had no powers. So it was a live-and-let-live situation.

“Eerily quiet most of the time, but they seem well behaved, all things said.”

“No signs of one Minder taking over all of them and using the others as relays to enhance their own powers?”

Heather craned her neck to stare at him, brow cocked. “Can they DO that?” She asked.

“Idunno,” Perry said, dumping Sera onto the couch, where she immediately hopped back up, demanding that he throw her again.

Gareth was busily snapping together legos on the coffee table, having barely registered Perry’s presence.

Perry fell into a rhythm, tossing Sera onto the couch over and over while he discussed recent events with Heather.

“So what were you up to after you disappeared?” Heather asked getting off the couch and getting something to eat while Perry continued the game of throwing Sera on the couch. “Also, she’s gonna tire you out quick like that.”

“I could literally do this until she dies of old age,” Perry said, throwing Sera on the couch again.

“Well, can’t say I didn’t warn ya,” Heather said with a shrug, filling herself bowl of cereal. “So, deets. You disappeared on us after the ant thing. Thanks for that by the way. That could’ve been a serious pain in the butt.”

“I don’t remember what happened. Apparently my soul got sucked out and my body kicked some major ass on autopilot to retrieve me…and maybe pissed off a pseudo-deity in the process.”

“Huh.” Heather grunted, taking a bite. “You plan on staying in Chicago for a while?” She asked.

“Yes, actually.” Perry said. “I’m gonna stretch the gate a bit further and replace the highway with something a bit more efficient, deal with any security flaws that High Tide might’ve exposed, hide under the umbrella of the Manitian gods to avoid long-range Fate manipulation spells. That sort of thing.”

I may also have to ward against real specific attacks.

If, according to Gna’kis, the Demon Lord of War had a tiny piece of his soul, then problems could arise. Most of the nastiest targeted spells and curses used pieces of the soul to backdoor past someone’s defenses.

Could be a problem.

“Glad you’ll be here a while,” Heather said with a sigh. “Because Nat’s been missing you.”

“Where’s she at?”

“City hall,” Heather said.

“Okay, I’ll go say hi,” Perry said.

“I’ll catch up soon as I’m done eating.” Heather said.

“You want me to take them?” Perry asked, nodding at Sera.

“Pleeease.” Heather groaned.

“Okay, Sera, you wanna go visit mommy?”

“No, keep throwing me!” She shouted.

“How about I throw you all the way there?” Perry asked. In his mind it was a good offer, since there would be drastically more velocity and air-time involved. Sera would love it.

Unfortunately, Sera had a very specific idea in mind of how things should be done.

“No, here!” She said, smacking the sofa emphatically.

Perry paused, glancing up to see Heather looking at him with smug superiority.

“I can see why you said I’d get tired before she does, Perry said, picking up Sera and throwing her back over his shoulder, where she immediately began to cry.

“Gareth, you wanna come visit mommy at work?”

“…”

“You can take the legos with you.”

“…okay.”

Perry scraped the legos in to a baggy and pinned them to Gareth’s front where he could continue sticking the blocks together, while keeping them on hand even while he walked.

Before he was able to get out the door, Sera had to go to the bathroom, and Gareth lost a piece of his legos and had a meltdown.

Heather was already dressed and gone by the time he got them in Boomer and set the robot to take them to City Hall, taking full advantage of Perry’s offer to take the twins himself.

“I’ve got an estimated lifespan of five thousand years,” Perry grumbled, buckling the wriggling Sera into her seat, “And it felt like I spent half of it getting you out the door.”

“Burger joint!” Sera shouted. “I’m hungry!”

“Does Mommy take you to burger joint whenever you scream at her?” Perry asked.

“…yes?” Sera said.

Perry cocked a brow.

“Daddy, can you take us to Burger Joint, please?” Gareth asked.

“Yes, indeed, I can.” Perry said, wondering if Sera was acting the way she was to make Gareth’s request seem polite and reasonable by comparison.

But there was no way they could run a scam that complex at their ages, right?

Perry glanced over his shoulder at them, Sera gnawing on the seatbelt like a trapped animal, and Gareth staring at the clouds above them.

“Nah.”

Boomer had basically been converted to an SUV, with the ‘baby on board’ stickers and everything. They skittered through traffic, hopping over a couple buildings to land in the drive-thru lane and grabbing munchies before heading over to check in with Nat.

Despite their wildly different personalities, both of the twins ate like savages, jamming food in their face and dropping about a quarter of it onto the floor.

Ah, family life, Perry thought. Despite the chaos, it was still more relaxing than fighting a dragon.

If I were Tyrannus, what would my next step be?

Probably-

***Tyrannus***

“What mortal dares to summon Hotexul, Lord of War?” The Demon Lord of War demanded, wearing an Aztec garb and wielding a blood-smeared macuahuitl. The demon lord was on the back foot and angry, judging by his appearance. The barriers protecting Tyrannus were shoved aside by the turbulent energy of the demon lord’s mere presence.

“William Kline. I have summoned you to make amends.”

“William Kline…I know you. You’ve cost me quite a bit by involving me in your petty mortal disputes. If you were genuinely contrite, you would’ve visited me in person. I find myself debating the manner of your demise.”

“May I be frank?” Tyrannus asked.

“Speak.”

“To what extent is your ability to defend yourself my responsibility?” Tyrannus asked.

The demon lord squinted at him for a moment, seemingly weighing his response.

“What do you want?” He finally said.

“I witnessed your spell take a shred of Paradox’s soul. I wish to purchase it from you.”

“I think not.” Hotexul said, his image floating backwards inside the summoning circle. “I have plans for the worm who slipped the hook.”

“Then might I aid you in said plans?” Tyrannus asked. “He is my enemy as well, and I would happily act as the instrument of your vengeance.”

“In exchange for avoiding my ire and removing your greatest enemy?” Hotexul asked, cocking a brow. “How beneficial for you.”

“I simply seek every advantage I can. Such is the doctrine of War.”

Hotexul studied Tyrannus carefully.

“Pay me your contract’s rate for ten years, and give me the means you intend to use against the boy’s soul, and I will consider my animosity towards you forgiven. You may not aid my campaign against Paradox, though I will not stop you from acting on your own behalf. As you implied before, my ability to punish those who have wronged me is not your responsibility.”

Tyrannus lowered his head, seething inwardly at the act of deference. Despite the excellent terms, something about it pricked his pride harder than anything he’d experienced to date. He would study the reaction later, but for now, he held his emotions with an iron fist.

“As you wish.” Tyrannus said. It was a fair deal. Ten years of debt was nothing in the life of the dragon, and surrendering the technology for soul-targeting Paradox, while irritating, did accomplish what he wanted: Siccing an unstoppable entity on Paradox’s trail.

If it didn’t kill him outright, the demon lord of war would keep Paradox busy long enough to come up with another way of killing him.

Basic strategy. Every move was calculated to either end the opponent or enable the move that did.

With a motion, Tyrannus gestured for his cultists to retrieve the machine.

As the large boxy machine was rolled into the room, Tyrannus began to explain.

“This, Hotexul, can be used to tailor any offensive essence or curse precisely to the soul fragment that is fed to it. The spell will be unerringly attracted to the subject, and their most basic soul defenses will perceive the spell as being native to their body, even as it destroys it. How it works is-”

“I’m sure I can fathom a mortal machine,” Hotexul said, waving him off arrogantly.

That’s what it is! Tyrannus realized, gritting his teeth. The need to show deference to someone mentally beneath him was the most infuriating thing he’d ever experienced. It was vaguely reminiscent of his conflict with the general in the early days.

At least the General knew his limits.

“Of course, how silly of me. Surely you have alternating current, powerful servers, and a cleanroom in your infinite domain.” Tyrannus said.

Hotexul rubbed his brow.

“Suzy! Get me our logistics department.” He turned back to Tyrannus “Continue your explanation.”

****Paradox****

“So, how much to buy that soul fragment from you?” Perry asked, glancing away from the road to look at the miniaturized display of the Demon Lord of War.

“I’m going to kill you. I’m going to use it to kill you. Why would I do that? I’m discussing the means to do so with Tyrannus, at this very moment.”

“Yeah, but if you killed me, that would make me angry, and then I’d have to kick your ass,” Perry said, checking his corners to make sure he didn’t run someone over with Boomer. “Don’t make me make you look like a fool a second time.”

“Daddy who are you talking to?” Sera asked.

“Demon lord of war.” Perry said, changing lanes.

“Who’s that?”

“Before you die, know that you may call me Hotexul,” Hotexul said. his real name was probably incomprehensibly long, as it changed slightly every time he absorbed a new portfolio, so getting a bead on him via his name was bout as effective as trying to recite all of pi.

“Hi Hotexul!” Sera said, leaning forward and waving at the miniature demon hovering above the dashboard.

Gareth peeked around Perry’s seat before shyly ducking back behind the seat.

“Mortals.” Hotexul rolled his eyes.

“I’d also be willing to buy that machine you’re getting from Tyrannus.” Perry said. “I’m guessing you’re ill-equipped to use it properly.”

Hotexul leaned forward in the tiny hologram.

“I don’t know what method you are using to shield yourself from my ire, but let me assure you, it won’t last.”

“I think it will.” Perry said, meditating on being someone else. Specifically over the last few days to cover his outer shell. He couldn’t actually become someone else, but if he leaned on Abun’zaul’s ability to become anything, he could reliably mask his soul’s signature and fool any targeted spells using a piece of his soul.

Now he just needed to dictate the timing of the attack. That was easy enough.

Paradox’s Probability Dodge.exe (16)

Perry felt his inner reserves bottom out as he split into thirty-two possible iterations, each focusing on attempting to spoof a different outer soul, but his conversation with Hotexul was largely the same in each version:

“I think you’ve grown fat and complacent. I think you’re a lazy shadow of the demon who clawed his way to the top of the food chain.

“You DARE!? I should-”

“FAT!” Sera screamed, pointing at the demon.

“It’s not polite to call people fat,” Perry said, pushing her hand down.

“But you-“

“I’m being impolite because he’s trying to kill me, you don’t have that excuse.”

“Aw…” Sera pouted. All thirty-two versions of her.

“Let me step out of the car for a moment, this conversation is for grown-ups.” Perry said, pulling Boomer over to the side and grabbing the summoning disk with the furious demon lord on it.

“I think you’re a fool who allowed himself to get hustled, and you’re too weak to do anything about it.” Perry said, stepping outside the car while simultaneously meditating and allowing Abun’zaul to chew on the idea of being a midwestern housewife.

Hotexul was growing a lovely shade of ‘absolutely furious’ as Perry walked out into the middle of the busy street and continued pouring taunts at him.

“Honestly, I think you’re a cowar-,” Perry said.

BOOM!

A bolt of demonic lightning struck out of the blue sky above,

Seventeen Perry’s died instantly. Ten suffered mortal wounds. five suffered minor burns. While the Midwestern Housewife version of Perry’s dodge didn’t have the lightest injuries among them, it was the only lightly injured version in which the communicator was still whole.

And style points counted.

The probability Dodge collapsed to the version of Perry focused on being a midwestern housewife, who faded away in an instant as Perry regenerated the skin of his left arm, still holding the demon lord in his other palm.

“Looks like you wasted your best shot at killing me.” Perry said, staring down at the demon lord as the skin of his face grew back. “If you try again, I’ll come back to Norgosh and feed you to my pet demon lord.”

Hotexul snarled and the screen went blank.

“Daddy, you got hit by lightning.” Gareth whispered as Perry stepped back inside Boomer.

“Correction,” Perry said. “I almost got hit by lightning.” Perry held up his singed left sleeve for them to see. “Hotexul kindly volunteered to give back that piece of myself I lost in Norgosh.”

Maybe not in the way he intended, but whatever.

***Tyrannus***

“You attached it to a bolt of lightning? Tyrannus asked, not bothering to disguise the disdain in his voice.

That was equivalent to attaching a quantum computer to a washing machine.

Of course it missed, Hotexul was goaded into tossing a basic-bitch spell at someone who was aware it was coming.

And wasted the best Essence targeting system known to man. A simple pause and retry, or target validation, or even a propagation addendum to the spell’s makeup would make it undodgeable. But NO! the demon lord got so mad he had to act right that second.

Tyrannus was livid. His plan to attach the targeting effect to a meticulously designed curse that was pernicious, self-sustaining, devious, and with a will of its own that would never stop hunting Paradox…went up in smoke.

“I no longer care if I’m in your good graces,” Tyrannus said. “Obviously you can’t be trusted to operate simple machinery, nor am I concerned about facing your ire, as you aren’t intelligent enough to act it out.”

“Your machine is at fault here. The spell missed.”

“Give me a piece of your soul and I will demonstrate its efficacity.” Tyrannus offered, holding out a palm, his claws splayed outward.

“…”

“That’s what I thought.” Tyrannus said. “Do not contact me again, and I will not unleash upon you the spell I reserved for Paradox. I can assure you it will accomplish more than a petulantly tossed lightning bolt.”

Tyrannus slammed a paw down on the summoning circle and broke the connection, his claws carving furrows in the floor. Those would have to be fixed later, but he was too livid to care.

“How did such an idiot become a godlike entity?” he demanded of no one in particular.

“Snowball effect?” one of his cultists said with a shrug.

Early demon development selected for strength over intelligence. The big strong ones would consume the weaker ones, growing in power until that power was unassailable.

“I’m going to have to switch my deals to Greed or Lust,” Tyrannus muttered. It was going to take a lot of research to make inroads into those domains.

Arrangements with War demons fit his empire-building plans more than any other kind, but those bridges had been burnt.