MM - Chapter 152 - A SLIM MARGIN

Celeste Luu Rahn

- Carter City Hall, Mayor’s Office -

Master Jedidiah took another step toward Celeste, murder in his gaze, “I suggest you reconsider your tone, child, lest your defiance sink you in a mire of misery without escape.”

Celeste sneered, “And I suggest you fuck. Right. Off.” Her eyes dropped to the medallion as Jedidiah clenched it in a furious grip. When he didn’t immediately leap to attack, her confidence swelled. “Looks like even a thief from the Coalition of Old Bastards can't afford to openly attack a civil servant and martial two classes below him, eh?”

Jedidiah hesitated, chin rising arrogantly, “How naive. I've no intention of attacking you, child. Administering an overdue lesson in respect, why, that's an entirely separate matter.”

A burst of killing intent flooded the room. Raine's training, the vastly superior killing intent from the demons, and repeated bouts with Mel had all prepared Celeste to resist. The killing intent slid through her, leaving behind a foul taste, but failed to reduce her to a trembling mess like it did the mayor.

While Killian fell to his knees, cowering behind his desk, Celeste kicked off her heels. They clattered to the floor; she barely heard them over the blood rushing through her ears. She closed in, fists leading the way. Jedidiah’s brows lifted in surprise when she struck first.

He moved like bottled lightning, neck bending to easily dodge her punch. Raine’s lessons guided her muscles. She moved without thinking, combining several follow-up movements into a series of blows designed to create an opening that wasn’t there before. The punch was a feint, a prelude to the elbow behind it. Jedidiah ducked, moving directly into the path of Celeste’s flying knee. A palm casually interposed between them was enough to bring her momentum crashing to a halt.

A meaty thwack sounded, fingers as unyielding as steelphene gripped her extended leg before she could withdraw it. Despite ending up in a slightly compromised position, Jedidiah had seen through Celeste’s combination with laughable ease. However, she took into account which hand he would block with since the other was holding the medallion. The way his torso twisted to catch her knee meant that arm was too far to stop her real assault. With a vindictive twist to her lips, Celeste spit in Jedidiah’s eyes.

The man roared, fingers digging into her leg so hard she thought it would snap. His kick was so fast as to barely be perceptible. Celeste’s feet were still off the ground when it crashed into her, yet her eyes remained wide open, drinking in every detail. She didn’t have time to evade, but using Jedidah’s grip on her knee, she managed to angle herself slightly while bringing her elbows and other knee together in a lackluster block.

Being kicked by a master wasn’t much different than being hit by a speeding car. The force blasted Celeste through the air. Her body shattered the closed doors to Killian’s office. The secretary screamed, and pain exploded like fireworks inside Celeste’s skull. Agony was practically an old friend by this point; after all, Raine hit much harder. But this was no game where she could recover with the use of a single skill or a few minutes of regeneration. Adrenaline and desperation mingled to shunt the severe damage she’d taken. If only she could escape, then there would be time to lick her wounds.

Celeste had no time to consider her options as the floor rose to catch her. In ZionLine, she had the Potency to handspring from such a fall. Thankfully, her training in the Tower of Triumph made it simple to differentiate between what she could and couldn’t do without attributes. She landed hard, shoulder tucked and leading the way into an impressive roll that had her back on shaky legs that didn’t at all want to cooperate any longer.

During the roll, she caught a glimpse of Jedidiah closing in from behind. The man was a martial master, an existence impossible to defeat for someone like her. He was faster and stronger, skilled beyond her ability to imagine, more a force of nature than a man. His killing intent stabbed into her mind, demanding she yield. 

Celeste was not afraid.

How many times had she been in this exact scenario training with Raine? How many times did he close in on her from behind with the intent to do harm? It had become a game, a game with familiar rules. Raine would strike at a weakness, and if Celeste didn’t present him with one, he would find one and mercilessly exploit it.

Just when it seemed like she was about to bolt toward the elevator, Celeste’s ankle rolled. She released a pained shout, stumbling forward. As though she and Raine had been scripting a play, rehearsing it for weeks, Jedidiah struck in her moment of vulnerability. He went for her injured leg, mercilessly intending to cripple her ability to flee.

Celeste’s stumble turned into a spin. The hidden weapon she always carried at her inner thigh snuck around her side and released its payload toward the unsuspecting master. A flash of light drowned the secretary’s waiting room in brilliance, blinding them all. The best part about her Thessius 11-M was that it didn’t require much in the way of aiming. Eleven million volts of uncaring electricity were released by thousands of electrodes working in unison. An arc of pure power jumped through the air toward the nearest warm-blooded conductor.

Being blinded and caught off guard still wasn’t enough to stop a true master. Arms and knees came together in a protective shell. Armored robes sensed the danger and solidified, harmlessly absorbing the currents. Jedidiah landed and jumped back. Even his robes, designed by Shillid’s military division, would struggle to sustain another hit from a top-shelf shock lance.

By the time Jedidiah blinked away the flash blindness from the discharge, the elevator’s soft ding filled the air. The doors closed, and a barely standing Celeste smiled triumphantly on their far side, middle finger raised in a classic salute.

Raine KongRu

- Ruptured Chaparral -

Raine was scraping the hair from a vomicida's wing when the message from Celeste came in. “Attacked by a master. Hurt. Hard to think. Be there soon.”

His fingers blurred with urgency, vomicida and forest all but forgotten, “What?! Why are you coming here? Go to the hospital, I'll meet you there.”

“Can't. Might follow. You take me.”

Shit. That is a better plan. If they got to her again before I arrived… Except if she is being followed, she'll bring them right to my front door. Never mind, that's a good thing.

“Okay. See you soon.” Raine commanded Big Bird away before tucking himself into a crack in the nearest tree's bark. He jolted awake, removing the headset while yelling for Morty, “Get fliers out now! Expecting company, potential masters. Celeste is on the way; find her car and get me an ETA!”

With jerky motions, Raine slid into his most protective suit, then dashed for the door. On his way through the living room, one of the walls flickered to life with an aerial view of Celeste's car and a three-minute countdown.

Morty's voice lacked its usual sarcasm, “No pursuit detected.”

“Thanks. Keep me apprised.” Raine waited outside, doing his best not to pace. The gate was open before her bright red sports car raced down the short drive. Tires squealed as they screeched to a stop. She didn't get out on her own by the time Raine reached the door. 

It was a good thing her car could drive itself; she was a mess, one arm bent the wrong way and a knee swollen to the size of his head. Fingerprints from where she'd been grabbed stood out starkly against once-pale skin, now blue and black from bruising. The sight of another man's fingers embedded into her skin drove a spike of unmitigated fury into Raine’s skull. His jaw ached with how hard his teeth were clenched. Not seeing any injuries to her torso or head, he deemed the hospital could wait and gently carried her unconscious form inside.

Morty had made several renovations since Raine's last visit to the outside world. His living room was packed with plants of too many varieties to count. A meditation mat and couch were arranged in the middle of it all. Raine brought Celeste there with steps carefully devoid of the slightest shock. She was so light in his arms, the usually fierce girl, weak and fragile as a flower.

“How are her vitals?”

Morty hobbled in from the hallway, torso swinging awkwardly as he walked on shiny new hands. Arriving at the couch, he cracked one of her eyelids and nodded, “Pulse, respiration, and biometric impulses are steady. She appears to be suffering from syncope, likely resulting from decreased cerebral perfusion. She hasn't lost any blood; it's merely migrated to her injuries. Her ulna and patella are broken, unable to discern the extent. Though her life is not in danger, she does require expedited medical attention or risk suffering prolonged recovery.”

“Good,” Raine released the breath he’d been holding. It came out stilted, interspersed with the quivering of clenched muscles. His feet took him toward the kitchen, decision made. It was earlier than planned, but his gut told him it was the right call.

She had other options. She came here. If that’s not trust, I don’t know what is.

When Raine pulled a knife from the cupboard, Morty’s mechanical voice adopted a quavering concern, “Master, her injuries require the ministrations of a professional. I can have a medevac here in minutes.”

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt her.” Raine pulled a black case from the freezer. Setting it on the counter, he removed the last full vial of ReGen.

“An unknown drug that induces seizures is a particularly idiotic strategy to improve her recovery, Master.” Morty positioned himself to block Raine’s way to Celeste, a resolute frown on his synthetic face.

“I’ve seen this stuff cure life-long injuries, disabilities, and broken bones much worse than hers. She’ll be hungry as hell when she wakes up, but she will wake up. I appreciate you… standing up for one of my people, but it's time to move. Now.”

Morty hesitated for a full two seconds, an eternity for the AI’s complex computing algorithms. With a faux sigh, he shuffled out of the way. Raine wasted no time pricking Celeste’s finger and allowing a few drops of blood to fall into the vial. He let them mix until the liquid was clear, then sniffed it to make sure it smelled right. Confident, he poured half the vial into her mouth.

He used the couch throw and cushions to protect her head as the seizures took over. After she stopped thrashing, the two watched as the swelling in her knee receded at a visual pace. Raine nodded at Celeste’s arm. “Help me set the bone.” He provided the force and Morty the precision. Together, they forced her forearm into a natural position and the ReGen did the rest.

Morty didn’t look away, unblinking as the once-obvious injury faded in minutes, “Remarkable. It must be reforging each of her cells in a cascading series of catalyzations. To do so in such a rapid fashion should not be possible. Eww!” Morty jerked back when her skin began oozing pus and toxins. He bolted from the room as best he could, “Vile, putrid, organic detritus!”

Despite the tension still gripping his chest, Raine snorted a laugh, then called after Morty, “You should set us up a permanent room for this. She won't be the last one.”

Raine carried Celeste to the shower as she continued leaking goop. After Mel made an absolute mess of his room, he wasn’t about to leave Celeste in the living room to do the same. He conducted himself like the gentleman he was, rinsing and then dressing her in a spare robe without taking a single peek. It didn’t help that her newly remade skin was smoother against his fingertips than the softest fabric.

He left her on the bed, a note explaining everything written on the wall. Making his way back to the living room, Raine cleaned the mess before settling down on the meditation mat. Killing intent exploded from his skin, flooding his home. It burrowed into every nook and cranny, questing for the one who dared to hurt her. 

Raine had no way of knowing when Celeste would wake up and wasn't about to wait that long to get some answers. “Morty, get me a name. Whoever did that to her is going to become an example of what happens to whoever fucks with one of my people.”

"The drone following her was jammed. However, I should be able to scrape together partial thermals of the... encounter. As for a name, I've already got it. Master Jedidiah, from the Coalition of Masters."

Raine flexed his killing intent, bloodlust on full blast as he repeated the name under his breath. His eyes were hard, yet devoid of emotion, like boulders uncaring of the tornado swirling around them. A master was something he could only have dreamed of facing in the past. Back then, if forced to face such an existence, survival would have been the only goal. He was no longer that same weak man. Things were different this time. A worthy challenge was coming, and Raine would be ready.