Captain Rains looks up as Lieutenant McKinley enters his temporary office at the Pentagon. They’ve been stuck in DC for two days, ever since someone pulled some serious strings to get Ryans—Machina, now—back to DC. McKinley slumps into the chair, and she gives him a commiserative glance.

  “I got nothing, sir.”

  “No dice from my side, either.”

  He tosses a pencil he had been fidgeting with on his desk in disgust. McKinley leans back in her chair and rants at the ceiling.

  “What the hell? They’re keeping us grounded and they won’t even tell us why?! We don’t even know who the hell is doing this!”

  “Haven’t you heard,” Rains says sarcastically. “It’s because they need to ‘evaluate collateral damage’ and to ‘protect whistleblowers’.”

  “They keep this up and they’re gonna be evaluating just regular damage. Not to mention the death toll…”

  Rains stands up and picks up his coat.

  “Well, I suppose we should go talk to him.”

  The pair make their way out of the Pentagon. Both of them shrug deeper into their coats and pull their service caps tighter, warding off the rain.

  Several minutes later of tromping through a rainy May morning, they finally make it to a helipad. A Chinook with its cargo bay open lies dormant, and McKinley can hear a deep, booming laugh echoing from inside.

  As both of the officers step inside, Machina turns from his conversation with Sergeant Callisto, Private Thor, and Private Eric. They stand and go to salute before Rains waves them down.

  McKinley meets Machina’s… eyes, she supposes. The blue fire that burns inside his faceplate always makes her feel like he can see right through her. In more than just a literal sense, that is.

  His deep, gravely voice, always with an undercurrent of a young man rumbles out from him.

  “I don’t suppose you have good news?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I’m afraid not, sir.”

  Captain Rains shakes his namesake off his coat before grimacing.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Both myself and the Lieutenant are shaking every tree we can. Whoever wants you here intends to keep you here.”

  Machina sits against the far wall of the heavy lift helicopter’s cargo bay impassively. McKinley has always had trouble reading him, though she’s sure that’s probably a common issue.

  “Don’t they know what’s happening? I’m needed out there!”

  For a brief moment, McKinley can feel something brushing by her, the mental equivalent of a speeding freight train. Only dangerous if you’re in the way, but just being close enough will give you scare. The phantom taste of blood fills her mouth before the feeling vanishes, the taste fading with it like a forgotten dream.

  I wonder if he knows about his Aura.

  She and the Captain look at each other, and McKinley replies after a silent exchange.

  “I’m sorry, sir. We’re trying our best. Whoever’s doing this has a lot of pull and they’re doing their best to stay quiet. I’ve heard rumors of an upcoming Senate hearing, but I have no idea if that’s true, or when it will be if it is.”

  The blue fire roils as it always does, immeasurable power contained with whatever Machina’s made of. For a brief moment, the flow changes. It reminds her of someone narrowing their eyes.

  “I’m sick of this. People are dying. And I’m fucking sitting here waiting for permission to save lives.”

  McKinley can taste blood and ozone, just for a moment.

  I suppose he doesn’t.

  She swallows the lingering, phantom taste before speaking again.

  “Yes sir, I’m sorry we couldn’t bring better news.”

  He meets her eyes, and she has to strangle a primal instinct to kneel. She’s gotten better at resisting it.

  “It’s not your fault. I really appreciate you both for your hard work, but—”

  He cuts himself off, and the helicopter becomes tense.

  “Check your tablet. Monsters have been reported at Mayo beach.”

  McKinley frantically scrambles to pull her tablet out of a coat pocket, and a few swipes confirms it.

  “What the hell? No Fractures were reported!”

  “Doesn’t matter. Monsters now, questions later.” He rumbles out.

  The two pilots who were in the back with everyone are already scrambling into their seats, and the helicopter spools up with a slow chuff-chuff-chuff.

  McKinley straps into a seat and slides her headset on. She keeps it on her at all times specifically for situations like this— the apocalypse doesn’t keep a schedule.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Captain Rains dons one as well, and orders the rest of 2nd Squad back at their barracks to spin up as well. The pilots come on the helicopter’s channel.

  “We’ll be there in twenty minutes! Mach, you’re gonna be jumping out, no good place to land that won’t be covered in monsters.”

  The flight is tense, though Machina’s presence is a boon, like it always is.

  With him around, everything’s going to be okay.

  The view from the helicopter’s open bay is hellish. Mayo Beach is covered in crabs the size of cars. In the twenty minutes it took for them to get there, West Shoreham has been completely overrun, and they’re moving towards the rest of Mayo. McKinley watches as Machina jumps out, and the helicopter shudders.

  “Evacuate the town!”

  She watches as he slams on top of a crab, crushing it into paste. Machina becomes nothing less than a blur of violence and destruction. Her eyes and mind are barely able to keep up.

  One crab explodes with a strike powerful enough to echo out even over the helicopter’s blades. As the Chinook hovers in place, and Captain Rains organizes an evacuation on her tablet, McKinley can only watch.

  A blade more than twice her height cuts a crab in half, then another, and another. The sword moves so fast it leaves thin vapor trails along the tip, and she can hear it zip through the air. He stomps on one, the heavy strike breaking it apart in a hundred gooey shards. Viscera mixes with sand and seawater, forming a stomach-turning sludge.

  Each step leaves deep pits in the sand, each one filling with the gory mixture. A crab lunges faster than McKinley can blink, and Machina blurs as he catches it with one hand. He slams it into another monster, and both burst into piles of gore like balloons with a sickening crunch.

  A shoulder charge sends a rooster tail of sand flying high enough that McKinley flinches back. In his wake lie half a dozen pulped purple-shelled crabs.

  A flicker of movement from the ocean and a geyser of water is the only evidence of a lunging mantis shrimp, larger than a tank. Machina is once again nothing but a blur, pure violence in motion.

  Machina leans into the shrimp’s strike, blade planted in the beach. It connects with an echoing boom that rings out over the ocean.

  He’s thrown back, and as the monster moves to follow up, he counter attacks with a huge two-handed sweep. The attack connects, flinging a huge claw high into the air. It keens in pain, loud enough that it sends McKinley’s ears ringing, even through her headset.

  Machina leaps into the air, catching the severed limb. He spikes it down into the monster’s head, and it shatters the shell. It writhes in pain for a moment before he slams down onto it like a vengeful god. The monster’s head explodes into gore, and twitches once before dying.

  He looks up at the helicopter, coated in blue blood and chunks of crustacean. The blue fire within him burns bright.

  “You should be able to land now.”

  He lumbers off into West Shoreham, hunting down anything that would threaten those under his protection.

  Everything’s going to be alright.

  Still covered in blood, Machina leans into the Chinook currently being used as a makeshift command post. A chunk of viscera plops onto the floor. Sand, seawater, and offal mixes into a stomach-turning sludge.

  I’ve seen worse, these last few weeks.

  The thought, while true, is deeply unsettling. McKinley shakes it off.

  “Lieutenant,” Machina rumbles. “How did the evacuation go? I got all of the Mega-Crabs.”

  Where the hell does he get these names from?

  She double checks the tablet.

  “Only two fatalities. Two fishermen on the beach, they’re the ones who called it in. We got lucky. Really lucky.”

  He turns and walks away.

  “Yes. Lucky.” He says stiltedly.

  McKinley shares a concerned glance with Captain Rains.

  McKinley’s boots squelch in the gore soaked beach. Machina’s huge sword, a twelve foot slab of space-time formed into a weapon stands upright, embedded in the sand next to him. It’s still taller than her, despite the depth Machina had to drive it in. The black hole pommel drags in wisps of sea spray. Her fingers ghost across the flat of the blade.

  It… doesn’t feel like anything. Like it’s not even there.

  “Be careful. It’s sharp.”

  Machina doesn’t turn around, sitting on the beach still covered in the grisly evidence of a hard fought day. The tide has been slowly coming in, washing away the remnants of the battle out to sea.

  Though calling it a battle would be generous.

  A wave rolls in, washing around him. He doesn’t move, and the tide rinses away a little bit of the blood.

  “Sir, we’re almost ready to go.”

  “Sure, I’ll be there in a minute.”

  He still doesn’t move, and another wave rolls in, gently lapping at his armor.

  “…Are you alright, sir?”

  He turns his head, and she catches a glimpse of the fire filling his faceplate.

  “I’m fine, Lieutenant. Just taking a moment.”

  Oh.

  “Sir, you did the best you could. You did the best anyone could do. No one else could ask more of you.”

  He taps his sword.

  “People should ask more of me. Look at all the power I have. They should never stop asking.”

  He waves at the beach, stained blue with monster blood.

  “Look at this new world, Lieutenant. It hates us, and there’s so few of us who can hold back the dark. I can never stop. Never rest. Never give in.”

  He sighs, an oddly human gesture for such an inhuman form.

  “But the kicker, Lieutenant? I need you. You, and 2nd Squad, and Captain Rains, and the Pineapple Express, and the whole goddamn National Guard.”

  He slowly stands to his full height. Even sinking ankle deep into the wet sand, he still towers over her by more than a full head. He looks down at her. Again, she’s struck by the instinct to kneel. She strangles it again.

  It’s good I’ve got practice with that. It’s not his Aura, surely?

  “For all the power I have, Lieutenant, I can’t fly. I can’t teleport. Without your work, I can’t be where I need to be. Look at what happened today. With the Chinook? It took twenty minutes to get here. On my own it would have been at least a forty minute sprint. You and Captain Rains organized an evacuation and brought in reinforcements. I don’t have any authority, Lieutenant. I can’t do any of that.”

  He pulls his sword out the ground, and the sand falls away. He eyes the hole in space, formed into a blade.

  “By myself I’m not much more than a guy who can swing a sword. With you? I might actually be someone who can make a difference. Every second you’re grounded is a life lost, somewhere. There must be something I can do. I just need to figure it out…”

  The sword vanishes, and he turns to look back at the ocean for a brief second, wistfully.

  McKinley’s tablet vibrates and she checks it. Her eyes widen in shock.

  “Ah. Well, sir, I think you just got your wish?”

  “Hm?”

  She shows him the tablet.

  “Looks like the Senate is conveying a hearing tomorrow, sir.”

  “What about?”

  She looks grim.

  “You.”

  ? DOOM With Magical Girls — Magical Girl Eternal Requiem ?

  by PizzaPizza

  She was built to kill them. She stayed to love them. She survived to avenge them.

  0042 was a weapon of the enemy. The Ashbloom. A dark magical girl and defector who found a soul in the light of the world’s greatest heroes. She turned her back on the Ashen Reliquary, joining the Starlight Blossoms as Magical Girl Star Zinnia.

  For a few brief years, she learned what it was like to be human. Then, the sky broke — and the monsters came.

  "Power of Love and Friendship" is a valid tactical doctrine.

  hates that they're right.

  What to Expect:

  > Two Co-Protagonists: A rookie pink magical girl and an overpowered dark magical girl mentor from a dead world.

  > DOOM Girl / Slayer expy.

  > Overdose on 90s -> Early 2000s Magical Girl tropes.

  > Frieren: Journey's End inspired storytelling.

  > DOOMed yuri and tragedy in the past.

  > Healing in the present.

  >Another entry in my Urban Fantasy multiverse with the same cosmology and background metaplot.