Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

Gus knew that calling them fireballs was inherently wrong, but had no time for deep thought as the energy continued to overflow, and his entire attention was consumed with creating vessels for the energy. Something told him that if it were to spill out without a way to contain it that it would be bad. Like every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light kind of bad.

The edge of the barrier began to sizzle and warp like melted plastic. It charred and smoked and then it was through, leaving a gaping hole that sagged in its wake. Gus was so consumed he missed the smug expression falling from Mengele’s face into something akin to fear.

Placing his hands in front of him, he continued to form more barriers, pulling all his efforts into creating a thick wedge of a shield. The Krackle balls shrank and melted to nothing, but the ones behind penetrated deeper from the trail their fellows had blazed.

The two of them stood there, frenetically working. The clusters of projectiles grew thicker and more concentrated as Gus sent them off to their target. And at last it was gone. Gus braced himself and watched the attack march on like a juggernaut. The outer layers of the barrier peeled and separated like an onion until they were so damaged, they dispersed into nothingness.

Mengele was not to be discouraged; barriers formed and were pushed outward as new ones were formed below them in rapid succession. These ones resembled square plexiglass plates, each new one staggered at a slight angle to create a starlike pattern as it spiraled outward.

“Go ahead, waste all of your MP on those barriers,” Gus said through cracked lips, but he doubted Mengele heard.

A message popped on the bottom of Gus’ display. He read only a portion before swiping it away.

Congratulations! You have added a modality to a power. This will upgrade all martial abilities that use energy to Tier II abilities…

Not now.

Seeing a red gel nearby, Gus pulled himself along the counter, not trusting his throbbing legs, and threw the gel in his mouth.

There was a massive surge of strength and HP. His legs immediately regained their strength and he moved toward Mengele, who was tiring. The protective plates were spilling out considerably slower now. One of the energy balls made it through the fringe and detonated when it hit his shoulder, knocking him back, tearing a large chunk out of the shoulder, revealing muscle and glistening bone.

The fall was fortuitous for him, because the few remaining projectiles passed through the final barriers and traveled above him. Detonating from proximity, but without direct contact. There was definitely damage, but there would have been little left of Mengele had they hit him point blank in the chest.

Now, Gus, go now! Nick urged.

Gus waved away the fumes and smoke and grabbed Mengele. He clamped down on his throat and lifted him in the air.

“I can see why you like this. It feels good to be on this end for a change.”

Mengele kicked and flailed and razor-sharp threads hit his chest and lower body. Many ricocheting off, others slicing the surface, even others boring straight though, leaving pinhole sized wounds in their wake.

Gus’ knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip. Instead of fear, Mengele had a creepy manic expression on his face, as if encouraging Gus to keep going. He could only force out tiny gasps and squeaks. There was nothing to discuss. This man was poison personified. Mengele’s eyes darted left and he stopped struggling. A wide smile played across his lips and there was a groan behind his shoulder.

“BoJack!” someone yelled.

Gus felt a twinge, like someone had plucked a sour note on a guitar string, and knew BoJack had indeed been hurt. That was new. But he couldn’t be distracted. The others could help him. Gus locked eyes with Mengele, boring into him as he pressed harder and harder.

I never thought I would feel this way again… Gus heard in a faint whisper. It was reminiscent of using Telepathy with that same ethereal filter to any spoken words. Hardening his resolve, he let it go and focused on crushing the life out of Mengele. The little roach was resilient.

Roach? That’s a new one.

The thought surprised Gus and he relaxed his grip for a split second, allowing Mengele to draw in a ragged breath.

You can hear me?

I can, and I can tell you that you very well may end me. But doing so will be at the cost of your friend bleeding out over there. Us roaches take a lot to kill, you know.

The statement rang with truth as his True Sight ability pinged. He growled internally, leaning close to Mengele.

This isn’t over.

For now it is. And you’ve just kicked a hornet’s nest. I wasn’t lying when I said I was disappointed in you. When we meet again, maybe you will have learned how these others are a liability. Eventually, you’ll see. Now go help your fragile friend.

Gus flung Mengele, who managed an easy flip, landing on one knee, and casually started rubbing his neck. He slapped a panel next to him and slid into the doorway. There was a vibration and rumbling. Gus turned and ran to his friend. It was bad. The others were holding hands on his wounds, but it wasn’t enough as blood burbled between hands white with pressure. Mengele had managed his cutting ability and they couldn’t leave BoJack’s side.

Gus slid to a stop and turned back, looking for another red gel. Anything. He opened drawers, display racks, and cupboards that lined the room. Weapons, armor pieces, electronics, tissue samples. But no damn gels.

“Hurry, Gus!” one of the women shrieked as he searched. With a fierce tug, the fifth drawer of a large rolling cart opened and there were gels inside! The weight of the extended drawers caused the cart to tumble forward, and Gus barely snatched three gels before the cart toppled.

Gus slid