Bab 8: Avatar Rampage
A blue hound the size of an airplane hangar and a green, rearing cobra big enough to slither up a skyscraper appeared in a tempest of colorful fire, blocking off the street. Nathan hadn't checked the scales, but he felt certain that the avatars weren't in his weight class. As such, he respectfully stopped running in their direction lest they get the idea that he was interested in fighting them.
Their eyeless heads looked to be aimed at Montel's avatar, which was engaged in a heated duel with the colossal red knight. The two were exchanging blows — blows that boomed and shook the world, that knocked chunks from buildings and formed massive craters in the street. It was like a scene from Power Rangers but in high definition with the TV a little too close for comfort.
Nathan stared at the avatars for a few more moments, too dumbstruck by their size to look away. Then the fear kicked him like a mule and he launched himself into a sprint, shooting down a small, crowded road that ran between some tall buildings. Where it led to hardly mattered — anywhere was better than near the avatars, where a single twitch from their oversized bodies could spell his death in capital letters.
He came to a wide street, just as stocked with screaming, panicking people as the last. They stormed out of buildings and trampled over one another, kicking and crawling and fighting to escape the battleground of giants. It was a chaotic scene — every man for himself in a race from the reaper's swooping scythe.
A loud explosion sounded, then a huge chunk of stone went flying through the legions of fleeing people, stealing away a swathe of them so quickly that it resembled a magic trick. Crowds dispersed and poured down the smaller roads between buildings like water, filling every inch of them. A skyscraper broke apart at the middle and came down upon them like the wrath of God. Lifts dropped from their loosened cables and people fell from zips. It was the symphony of ruination, playing in the world's largest concert hall.
Nathan knew he had to move before the whole Ring fell apart on top of him. His eyes worked like miners during a gold rush, scanning the area for prospects — for any viable routes that wouldn't put him in the midst of the frenzied masses.
Magic. If he had more magic, he could just teleport himself away from this mess. The only problem was that he was running on empty. Whatever was still sloshing around in his spirit didn't feel like enough to get him across the street, let alone away from the crowds and avatars.
A woman ran into him as he stood dumbly at the road's end. She suffered the worst from the contact, tumbling hard onto the cobbled street and performing a few painful-looking rolls. A dozen pieces of chalk spilled from her leather satchel.
"Jackpot," Nathan muttered. He threw himself onto the ground and began absorbing the chalk, too panicked to fret over the morality of his blatant thievery.
"Hey — hey, what's the fat idea?" the woman yelled, just barely audible over the screams and explosions. She pushed the messy black hair from her face and straightened her goggles. "That's my chalk, slarkhead. Paws off it."
"Got any more?" Nathan yelled back as he absorbed the last piece. "Give me the rest of it and I'll make us a telly out of here."
She stood up with a wince and clutched her satchel. "Nice try. Think I was born yesterday? Even if you could hold the chalk, there's no way you could draw one before — "
Another chunk of stone was knocked loose from a building and fell onto the overpopulated street. Some tragic number of souls were crushed beneath its weight.
"Come on, just hand it over. This place is going to be a wasteland in less than a minute. I swear I'll get us out of here."
She tossed Nathan the satchel, though she was clearly reluctant to do so. "Lot of chalk in there. You better not be lying."
Nathan absorbed the pieces in the bag and put a hand on the wall of a building. He felt like Superman after pumping iron, like he could fly back down the road and slap the avatars around. Of course, he wisely chose not to try such a thing.
"Tell me a safe place to bring us."
"The Rums."
"Little more specific — how far is it and in which direction?"
"About a mile north from here."
Nathan balked. God only knew how big the glyph would turn out with a distance like that. There were some sizable buildings near him, but he doubted he could reach high enough up their walls to give the glyph room to form.
"Can you make this sort of glyph on the ground, or does it have to be on the wall?"
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
"Would you just tell me?"
"Yes — yes, you can put them on the ground. Tellies are tellies. You can draw a drop glyph on the wall if you want as long as the script's good."
Nathan pushed through the crowd to get to the middle of the road, then crouched and put hand on it. Magic ran through him, setting every atom of his arm and hand alight with the tame glow of the second-order. It was a sensation unlike any he'd felt before, like his arm was filled with lightning waiting to be shot from his fingertips. He focused, twisting it into the shape he wanted — a glyph capable of sending him a mile north. And boy, did it feel like it was going to be big.
The glyph appeared below him and his new friend with a great burst of power from his hand. It was large, that was certain, but maybe only twice the size of the one he'd seen in the tower, just big enough to park a school bus in. Something odd was going on with the sizes of his glyphs. He decided to think about it later and for the moment, just concern himself with not dying.
"Trip it," he yelled, then stomped a foot onto the ground.He appeared in the middle of a very shady bar. It was a cramped and ugly joint made wholly of the ubiquitous cracked stone of the Underground. A few ceiling lights kept the room at a gloomy dimness, allowing its dozen or so occupants to enjoy their drinks in misery.
"No teleporting in my shop," hollered a man behind the bar — a great ogre with a boulder for a belly and a head that shaped like a cone. "Bad enough that you bums come through the front door."
"Sorry about that," Nathan said, stepping away from the glyph's exit point. He didn't know the repercussions of someone teleporting inside of him, and he had no interest in finding out what they were.
The woman who had run into him came through the glyph, followed by a procession of what the barkeeper would no doubt label as bums. They were a raggedy, desperate-looking bunch, all in shock from the horror they'd escaped. It was no surprise that they dared to trip a random glyph that popped up beneath them.
"Now that was a glyph." The woman wore a grin on her face, magnifying her beauty. "You actually got us to the Rums. Didn't think it was possible for a telly to go so far."
"Then why'd you tell me to bring us here?" Nathan asked, pulling his goggles up to his forehead.
She shrugged. "Things were blowing up, so I wasn't exactly thinking straight. Besides, if a guy with an icon tells me he can draw a telly, I figure he can draw a pretty good one."
The barkeeper banged his meaty fists on his bar. "That's it! Buy some grog or beat it, you bums. Bums aren't welcome — see the sign?" He pointed to a sign on the wall that did, in fact, state that bums were not welcome.
"Listen, Bogs," the woman began, stomping up to the bar. "We just narrowly avoided getting crushed by four avatars in the Sweeps, so all of us are going to rest here for a while. You don't like it, I'll have a chat with Ram-Ram. Sound good?"
Bogs, who was nearly two feet taller and just as much wider than the woman, looked properly scolded. "Sorry, Selene, I didn't know it was you. I'll get you a drink on the house."
"And one for my friend here." She turned back to Nathan. "Hey, guy, what's your chug?"
"My what?"
"Your chug. You know, your preferred drink."
"Oh, okay. Water's good. I'm a water guy."
Selene stared at him blankly for a moment, then spun back around and sat at the bar. "Alright, Bogs, get this man some water. He just created a glyph that teleported us a mile away with his bare hands, and he's feeling awfully thirsty."
The ogre went to work, preparing their drinks with all the dexterity of a wingless pigeon. Nathan sat down two seats away from Selene on what was perhaps the most uncomfortable stool in the universe.
"I need — "
"So, how'd you make the glyph?" she interjected. "Never seen anything like that. You made it in just a few seconds, too — even managed to con it."
"Con it?"
"Condense it. The glyph would've been enormous if you didn't. Might've been too big for the road. So, how'd you do it?"
Nathan shook his head. "No clue; it's just an ability I have. Listen, I need to get to the Cathedral. Can you point me in the right direction?"
"Maybe." Her pink lips stretched into a playful smile. "You know, word around the Ring is that Nathan is here, fresh off the lift — think it's true?"
Nathan considered his answer. The woman seemed a little too slippery for his liking, and since people were after him, it didn't seem smart to tell anyone who he was.
Bogs set their drinks on the bar just a little too roughly, causing a spill. "Well, I think that — "
"Nobody cares, Bogs, clean up your mess." She kept her brown eyes locked on Nathan. "So, what do you think?"
"I doubt he's here. It's probably just a rumor."
"Probably." She sipped her drink — a green, foamy liquid that looked like something one might see in a swamp. "I'll tell you how to get to the Cathedral, but I want something in return."
"I'm not paying for directions. I can get them from someone else for free."
Selene stood up and relocated to the stool next to Nathan. "I think you'll find my price very affordable."
"What is it?"
"I want to go with you."
"And why would you want to go with me?" Nathan asked, eyeing her with more than a little suspicion. "You don't even know my name."
"Maybe I like guys who dress weird and have messy hair."
"Why does everyone think I dress weird?"
"Or maybe I want to tag along to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve. It isn't often that you see a guy making glyphs without drawing them, after all." Her playful smile grew a smidgeon wider. "Could be both. I do like your hair."
Nathan considered the offer. Having someone to watch his back in case Von Avery or the Butcher showed up again would be nice. It did seem like she was playing some game, though — like she had an ulterior motive. What it was, however, he had no clue.
"Get me some more chalk, and you've got a deal."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone