Prologue: Through Darkened Halls

“When day is night, when wrong is right

When joy is pain, when loss is gain

When die is live, when take is give

When soft is loud, when meek is proud

When out is in, when lose is win

When start is cease, when war is peace

When sick is well, when heaven is hell

When amoral is just, in God may we trust.”

A bullet drilled into the wall inches from Matakh’s head, making his hair tingle. Too close, he thought to himself, looking behind to see a figure coming around the wall. He let loose a pulse from his simple stun pistol, the bolt of cerulean energy just missing the soldier, sending him scurrying back behind the corner.

He continued running, trying to keep up with Meea and Jenzo. The floor was littered with rubble; smashed shelves, fragments of craft boards, and chunks of plaster were all among the mix that slowed his progress. Another bullet flew past his head, the corona of destructive energy coating it giving off a harsh yellow light. It was so close that he could feel the kiss of disturbed air against the fur on his ears. He turned again and fired. The shot was off, but it was close enough to cause the assailant to double back.

Not for long, though. He continued battling his way through the rubble of what had once been an elementary schoolhouse. He was sure that several months ago it had been a cheery, vibrant place. Patches of the original golden paint still existed. But now the walls were blackened by fire, smoke lingered in the air, and faint glowing patches hinted at the presence of smoldering embers. Most of the windows were broken as well, shattered by explosions or fallen debris, and Matakh was glad that he was wearing shoes, or his feet would have been a bloody mess. Already, his normally tawny fur was blackened with soot and he was bleeding slightly from various cuts. Meea and Jenzo weren’t much better off. His sister’s creamy fur appeared gray from both the gloom and dirt, while Jenzo’s sandy coat looked more like dirty gold.

The sound of an explosion suddenly came from outside, and the whole building shook. A huge chunk of the ceiling broke free and tumbled down, blocking the hallway that Meea had been about to take. Jenzo yipped in fear as the rubble crashed to the floor, and covered his mouth to keep out the dust that billowed out to engulf them.

Meea didn’t even slow down. She turned to the other passageway, blocked only by a flimsy cork panel. It fell to pieces when she gave it a good punch, revealing another avenue of escape.

“This way!” Meea called, grabbing Jenzo’s hand and pulling him behind her. The young fennec fox yipped in surprise, his feet frantically struggling to keep him upright. They barely succeeded as he was dragged behind the nimble lioness.

Matakh trailed behind the two, glancing over his shoulder to look for any signs of their pursuers. He was just in time to see another black-garbed soldier come around the corner. He lifted his weapon, sighted briefly, and loosed a single shot. The blue pulse flew down the hall and struck the soldier in the chest. A wave of electrostatic energy flew across the feline’s body, shorting out his nervous system with the sudden burst of electrical impulses. He toppled to the ground without a cry.

Matakh, Meea, and Jenzo kept running, zigzagging through the halls of the abandoned schoolhouse. Another sudden explosion rocked the building, sending Jenzo toppling to the ground. The fox yelped as he was dragged a few feet before Meea stopped to help him up. He rubbed his scraped elbow, wiping away a little blood, but otherwise gave no indication he was hurt. Meea nodded encouragingly, and they began to run again.

They turned several times, trying to lose their pursuers, but the pounding of heavy footsteps told them their efforts were in vain. They were only just managing to stay ahead of the soldiers chasing them, and couldn’t keep up their speed much longer. Jenzo in particular was feeling the strain, panting hard with the effort of keeping pace with Meea.

Suddenly, they were forced to stop when they turned a corner to find themselves facing a locked door. They looked around furtively for another means of escape, a window, another door, anything. There was none to be found.

 “A dead end!” Jenzo moaned, ears drooping in defeat. “This is it. It’s over. They’ll catch us, and do horrible things… And the others…” He buried his face in his hands, whimpering in fear.

“It isn’t over,” Meea said firmly, and lashed out with a roundhouse kick that splintered the already-weakened door. A large portion fell away, leaving a hole just big enough to squeeze through.

Matakh nodded. “Good. Jenzo, you go first, then Meea. I’ll be right behind you.” The fox nodded and slipped through the hole, his tail the last thing to disappear. Meea followed suit, using her feline grace to elegantly slide into the opening.

Matakh took one last look behind them to check for incoming foes. None were visible, but the footsteps were getting closer. He tucked his stun gun into his belt and squeezed through the hole in the door, ignoring the scratches he received from sharp splinters of wood. There would be time enough to worry about that later.

He found himself in what appeared to be a kindergarten schoolroom, with the charred remnants of children’s projects scattered everywhere. The shattered glass of a terrarium littered the floor, glinting in the harsh light of the fires burning outside. He was sure the room had once been beautiful, but now it was in total ruin, all traces of happiness and cheer burnt to ashes. He quickly began scanning his surroundings for a way to block the door and a way out of the school.

Seeing an imported oak shelving unit, he rushed over and began to push, only to find that it was too heavy for him to move alone. “Help me with this,” he called to Meea, putting all his weight behind his efforts. His sister ran to his side and together they toppled the shelf over in front of the door, blocking the hole and barricading the way.

“Now for a way out,” he said to himself. He saw that the room had a large window that spanned nearly wall-to-wall. Outside, he could see the ruins of Tuthana, once one of his world’s greatest cities, now dominated by fires, smoke, and rubble. The buildings that were still standing were in bad shape, many of them having partially collapsed or missing large sections.

He could also see just how close they were to the ground from this room. It would be easy to jump to the ground without injury, and once down they could make a break for the safety of the streets. He looked for something with which to shatter the glass, spying a metal chair frame. He lifted the twisted steel from the rubble, struggling to pull it free from the debris coating it…

Jenzo suddenly cried out and pointed out the window. Turning and looking where the fox had indicated, Matakh could see a swarm of bombers. There were at least two dozen bombing craft flying over the city, ready to drop their payload of explosives. And one was making a dive for the school.

It would be in drop range within seconds. When the bomb hit, the explosion would send glass shards everywhere, slicing whatever wasn’t incinerated in the blast to ribbons.

A sudden surge of adrenaline blasted through Matakh, wiping away any regard for his own safety. He suddenly viewed his surroundings not as a tumble of burnt wood and rusted steel, but as a Jokki player views the playing field. The world faded to a foggy gray, Jenzo and Meea seeming to glow like beacons in the night. Instinctively, he searched for a means to get them out of harm’s way, anything or anywhere he could use. The closet door to his right seemed to light up. He saw the door hanging open, saw the opportunity. He knew he could easily get the two younger ones to the storage space within moments. And with the last spark of true rationality, he put all those things together in his mind to form a rudimentary plan.

He leapt forward, grabbing Meea and Jenzo by the arms, ignoring their protests and cries of pain at the strength of his grip. Better they receive bruises from his grasp than be incinerated in an explosion. With inexorable strength, he dragged them over to the closet and tossed them inside roughly. The loud whine of an approaching bomb filled the air, as well as the smashing of the door. He turned around just in time to see the room door broken down, four soldiers entering and an explosive capsule passing the window outside.

Then there was a flash of brilliant light, a loud thunderclap, and the world turned upside-down.

Instantly, the window was shattered by the force of the explosion, sending shards of glass flying everywhere, glowing cherry-red from the heat and trailing sparks. Matakh felt dozens of cuts open up on his back by the heated glass, searing his fur, skin, and flesh as they struck, and he heard the soldiers cry out in surprise as they were struck by the lethal shrapnel. Though their armor protected them from the sharp edges of the glass, the sheer intensity of the heat burned right through their protective suits, burning the flesh beneath. At least they have armor, Matakh thought in the very back of his mind as his body was ravaged by the flying shards.

The shock wave from the blast tore through the room. Matakh felt it as a massive impact, like being hit by a freight train, that slammed into his body and lifted him like a rag doll, accompanied by a wall of unbearable heat as the flames flooded into the space. The intensity of the fire’s harsh light knifed into his eyes, and he squeezed them shut as the pain flooded his brain, but unfortunately his nerves remained perfectly active, allowing him to feel all that was happening.

The heated blast half-tore, half-burned Matakh’s shirt from his torso, completely exposing his back to the wall of fire. He cried out in agony as he felt his skin and flesh burning under the intense heat. The soldiers, who had been far closer to the window, had found their armor completely ineffective at protecting them, and were strewn across the floor, reduced to charred heaps. Matakh managed to open his eyes a tiny bit, only to see flaming chunks of rubble flying around the room, though by some miracle they all missed him. The roar of the fire was deafening, and Matakh could feel pain shoot through his ears as they were bombarded by the impossibly-loud noise. He tried to lift his hands to cover his ears, but the pain he was experiencing had rendered his body immobile.

He felt himself hit the wall – no, a door, he could feel it move. He realized that it was the entrance to the closet holding his sister and friend. Fear filled him; fear for Meea and for Jenzo. But looking at the closet, he saw that his body had been thrown against the door, shutting it tight, and the portal had held up. Amidst the incredible pain, he felt at peace knowing they were safe. That was all that mattered

He felt a wooden panel strike his chest, the air knocked from his lungs by the impact, before he crumpled to the floor, his body screaming in agony from his countless injuries. His back felt like it was being carved with hundreds of flaming daggers, his body felt completely broken, and his lungs felt scorched and dry. He gasped, barely able to breathe the hot air as it seared his throat, and his vision was swallowed by black. He knew he was passing out, maybe even dying, the injuries he had sustained being just too great for him to stay conscious through the pain.

As he lay, battered and burned, he was filled with grief as he thought of how his fate was similar to that of his world, engulfed in flames and violence, all in a war that made no sense at all. And as he lost his hold on the present, his mind turned to the past, to when life was peaceful, and before the war began…