Operation: Phoenix, Turning Point Battle, Part 12 by CyberPyro (cybrpyro@iac.net) The Hell Wyrm stood in shocked silence. On its screen it watched the destruction of over a hundred of its best troops. The Jihaddi had simply torn them, literally, to pieces in a rampage. "NNNOOOO!!!" yelled the Lavender Lard Laxative as the view screen showed the Jihaddi completing the final stage of their ascent. [Your servants failed miserably.] thought the Empress coming up behind It of The One Tooth. "Yes, they did," tersely replied the Wyrm. [It looks as though the only way to stop them will be to involve yourself.] "How soon can a transport be ready?" ... The Jihaddi walked onto the top floor of the 801 Grand Building. They looked around carefully. No traps. No spongin. No wyrm minions. Nothing but the free space afforded by The Ambassador Club, an expensive members-only restaurant. "Let's do it," said Cerberus, shattering the uneasy silence. "J, Shardik, J-Rock, MoHo, and Samhain, guard as we try to dispel this cloud," ordered Owsen. "We can't be disturbed while the spell is running." "What if you are?" asked J. FoxGlov. "Then we could all die," responded a terse Owsen. "Oh..." ... "Can't this thing go any faster?!?" demanded the Wyrm of the X'hirjq pilot. B'habii B'hopp and B'hii J'haa stomped restlessly around in the back of the shutter. They wanted blood. [No.] ... Windigo stepped forwards, her magical energies swirling and crackling around her claws. CyberPyro intertwined his right hand with her claw and reached for Owsen's hand. The Grand Admiral reached out and took the pyrokinetic's hand in a firm grip, his magic intermingling with the other two. Morgenna took Owsen's hand, adding her magic to the spell as Cerberus wrapped his hand in Windigo's claw. The hands of the half-Q and vampyre locked in a steel grip, magic fusing them together more than mere flesh ever could. The spell had began, instantly disrupting everything electrical around it. The spell caster's attendants quickly found alternate light sources, though the eerie luminescence of the casters made it unnecessary. ... "Faster!" bellowed B'hii J'haa. "They've started already," whined b'habii b'hopp as Des Moines appeared on the horizon. The X'hirjq pilot simply ignored them as she sped towards their destination. ... Sweat poured down Owsen's face, his expression clear: This is far more than expected. The magical energies swirling around the five mages took a life of their own, draining more and more power from the casters themselves. The roiling energy expanded suddenly, vaporizing anything they contacted. Windigo started to stumble forwards, and caught herself with the help of Owsen and CP. Most Holy dodged a chair that, for unknown reasons, streaked towards the nearest wall, knocking carefully set tables over, and shattered. The other four guardians looked around, a bit unnerved, as the room began a low, steady pulsing as though it were alive. The laws of light, sound, gravity, and inertia no longer seemed to apply. The Doppler Effect seized the chants of the mages, their voice waxing or waning without warning or reason. A table collapsed under the weight of a place setting and a single rose in a crystal vase as a marble statue began a subtle migration across the room. Morgenna let out a low cry, echoed by everyone, as the spell took even more energy. J. FoxGlov and the other guardians looked on with great concern, but were unwilling to disturb the process. "Fuck," muttered Most Holy under his breath as the spell casters cried out in pain, their forms becoming insubstantial as the roiling energy burned even brighter. "What do we do!?!" asked a bewildered J. FoxGlov as the effects of the room distorted and re-ordered hiss voice. "I don't know that we can do anything," said Shardik as he fought to make himself heard. ... The Wyrm and its cousins waddled out of the X'hirjq shuttle at the base of the 801 Grand. Collections of adoring wyrm and sponge minions gathered around them, making movement difficult. The minions were quickly shoved aside, but it cost the evil trio precious time. ... CyberPyro held the hands of the other mages, desperately trying to complete the spell. The more energy the five of them put into it, the more it demanded. Could he keep this up? Could he even survive it? Unconsciousness/oblivion loomed on the horizon as the spell pulled more energy from him. CP's mind began to lose its focus, the group magic consuming his mind. And then ... something ... brushed against his soul. For a split second his attention faltered, but it was too late. Cerberus jerked violently, like he'd been struck and fell out of the circle, breaking it. The magical vortex the mages had built disappeared with a soft fizzling noise. ... The spongin guarding the remnants of the 801 Grand's lobby jumped in surprise at the roaring noise. At first, they thought[sic] it was thunder. The snows of winter in the street contradicted that idea on sight. A strong tremor reverberated through the structure of the building, knocking vases off stands and shattering windows. A half second later glass, steel beams, and large chunks of marble and cement slammed into the pavement. Cars imploded from debris as a spongin squad in the street splattered into steaming remains. Moments after the hellish rain stopped, the spongin in the lobby rushed into the street and looked up. "Oh, my b'harnii!" yelled the squad leader as he saw what caused the debris. The entire top of floor of the 801 Grand and the roof above it were gone. A huge cloud of roiling black smoke rose into the sky, sharply contrasting with the bright mauve of the Purple Cloud. CP Copyright, Pyrokinetic Productions, Inc. (1996)