Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

“I tire of this. Meet me in conference room D when you are ready. And yes, I can see you clearly. No need to try to keep up your pathetic attempts at stealth.” Gus froze and didn’t move. “This isn’t some ploy to flush you out, I see you crouched by that fern right there. To your right is a small modern sculpture next to the wall.”

Gus looked and saw that he was accurate but still kept still. There was a weary sigh and the light immediately next to him began to turn on and off. A quick glance showed that it was the only one doing that.

Gus stood up in resignation as the lights began to flicker, indicating which direction he should go. He went through his plan again, and activated Intermediate Shielding to protect himself. Mengele could probably see everything he was doing, but he wouldn’t make it easy for him. If he could detect him with Camouflage and Phase Shift, did he have some ability that revealed Nth to him? Would he know that Jet was more than just a weapon?

That voice. It really was the man from his dreams. Or memories? It was hard to distinguish which were real memories and what were vivid dreams his brain had made to process the situation. Thoughts kept intruding on his plans, half of them worrying about what he had gotten himself into, the other half trying to revise his attack strategy based on Mengele’s abilities.

He had been counting on the element of surprise, but that was now blown out of the water. He was committed now though. He doubted that Mengele would just let him go. Better to face it head on. He had to resist massaging his temples as his head began to throb. Can’t show any weakness.

With the tip of Jet’s blade, he pushed in the door. At the head of a large conference table surrounded by chairs was Mengele, who was wearing a white Nehru jacket with gold trim. He tossed a tablet to the side and leaned back and looked at Gus.

“You know, I had to make sure that it was just you coming. I’ve come to expect all kinds of attacks from my enemies and those who disagree with my methods, but I will admit I am surprised you decided to come alone. I see leaving the crude transmitter you placed on my ship was the right choice. Not a wise choice for you, considering what has happened to your predecessors who attempted entry here. However, I tried to dissuade them—but they were persistent.

“You, on the other hand, provide a rare treat. You were one of my first projects, and I would very much like to see the results of my handiwork. Mostly to evaluate how robust the weave was, but also to see how I have improved in the interim. This, however, will not be pleasant for you, and I am sure you will resist, so let’s get the formalities out of the way.” Mengele stood and with a press of a button on his tablet, the chairs retreated to the walls while the table revolved into the floor, providing a large empty room. He set the tablet on the chair behind him and clasped his hands patiently in front of him.

“Anytime you are ready.”

Chapter Sixty-One

Rock Me Tonite

Here goes nothing!

Gus activated Dash and Sweep the Leg, trying to catch Mengele by surprise. With a barely perceptible twitch of a finger, Mengele’s skin turned a speckled black, like polished basalt. His eyes shifted too, the color of molten gold. Jet sparked upon contact and Gus felt his attack rebound away, sending shock waves up his arm, making his hand tingle.

Mengele looked down at a slice in the leg of his pants and cocked his head as if to say, “Really?” Yet he did not move. He just stood there placidly, inviting Gus to take his best shot.

Gus launched into a flurry of attacks with Jet assisting. Each thrust and swing were countered almost lazily by Mengele. Often with only one hand, directing the blade away time and time again, barely using any body movement or effort. His transformation had made him immune to any type of slashing damage. On one rotation, the tip of his blade skated across the bridge of Mengele’s nose. This elicited a slight wince. A weakness?

Before he could follow up with another attack, a casual backhand crumbled Gus’ shield and still retained enough force to launch him into the air. Jet flew out of his hand as Gus hurtled sideways too fast to stop his momentum with his own flight abilities. High-back chairs along the walls exploded, sending splinters of wood flying on impact. Despite his shield, the blow had taken over 30% of his total health.

He crouched and stared daggers back at Mengele.

Unperturbed, he pulled on his sleeves and returned to standing there with arms clasped loosely in front of him.

Gus let loose as large of a Chi Pulse as he could muster. Shimmering waves sped away from him, distorting the light as they collided with Mengele. There was a slight resonance, but it just washed over him like waves crashing on a rocky shore. Still, he stood there maddeningly calm.

Gus tried Amber, hoping it would slow him down. The only effect was that the resinous material adhered to his clothing. Mengele dug his fingers into the goop and with a tearing noise pulled off his clothes. It did not stick to him at all, and Mengele used the wadded-up ball of material to blot away any residual amber that remained. Thankfully, in this state, Mengele’s nether bits were absent, more akin to a mannequin.

Panting, Gus looked at his situation in despair. This was not going even remotely like he had expected. His skin was just too tough. An idea came to mind. A quick glance at his remaining MP showed he would