Darcy had flung the little dragon into the air when the hideous noise started outside. He’d run out, with only his filter mask and boots on and didn’t feel the tiny thing latch onto his hair.
Everyone had stopped, staring at the sky, at the scenes in code. It was the Font, on his throne, surrounded by his Immoderates and beyond that, monsters, all rolling on the ground writhing before Prime, or frozen in place. He sat surrounded and protected by a ball of what looked like flames. “I am Prime.” The Font of All Knowledge said. Half of the Illiterates were on their knees, hands upheld before them as if a book lay in their palms. Redcap had peeled open the office to record everything, and Darcy had fallen to his knees, the instant he realized it was recording their every move.
“You will not arrest me. I am guilty of nothing.”
“Whose tryin’ t’ ‘rrest Prime?” he whispered to the guy – Barton - next to him.
“Don’ know. Shee – it. Lookit thatun!” he whispered back as the Immoderates snapped a neuralizer on the black woman’s head. “She blacker than...” The Bludgeon would not connect. It shrivelled right up and fell off, bouncing at the Captain’s feet. He turned and everyone gasped as he slugged her. Actual physical violence, knocking her down.
“Som’un’s tryin’ tah take down Prime?”
The cloud ripped open again and suddenly there were a couple of warriors... shining so bright it was hard to look at. One rode a gigantic bird with a savage hooked beak and he held a burning golden spear. Beside him the other warrior rode a horse with wings, and he was armoured in mirrors. They stood before a gigantic thing Darcy couldn’t name except it looked like a round house balanced on a fowl’s foot. Other fantastical warriors ranged behind them.
“Perrin Thormentaler, you are found wanting.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I am Kyrus Talain, Emperor of Lainz. Decendant of Petra and Gregori Lainz. This is my husband Ilaxandil Vahnia Descended of the Milar. The woman in blue is the Head of the Research Station established by Nadia. We are co-owners of this world. We hold you accountable for trying to kill us. Free Glass Mountain and face the justice that you agreed to when you and our ancestors came here.”
“How in hell did you break in here?” In one hand, in code, Perrin held a silver sphere that shrieked as he held it. In the other he held a chain wrapped around a mountain made of glass. “I own you, I rule you all. I can take this,” he raised the sphere, now sobbing. “...and bring it down on you all.” He held the sphere over the mountain and all of a sudden the ground all around them began to shake.
One of the warriors, in the shining host, yelled ‘OVER-RIDE! PRIORITY ALPHA CODE 1A11!”
A monster that was almost invisible, stretched out a claw, reached through the wall of flame around Prime, snatched the sphere out of his hand and scuttled straight up the ice all around him, vanishing completely.