[Intermission] Wherein Tricia Sneezes Due to a Sudden Increase in Scrutiny by an Ex-Husband in a Distinct, Compressed Spacetime

“Choo!”

“Catching a cold out here?” Rave asked without looking back.

Tricia contemplated advising Rave on the perilous implications of that, given the completely new environment, bacteria, and accompanying plagues that could potentially wipe humanity out due to a lack of generations of exposure to the same… but realized, just in time, that such was not the pink-haired, melee maven’s concern. Instead, she rubbed her nose as she answered, “I do not believe so.”

The impromptu fight club had indeed grown larger than any might have anticipated, though only a few had any intention of actually sparring with Miles the Human. One after another they rose out from the secret entrance inside the Immovable above: Miles the Human in the lead, since she knew where they were going, continued to wear naught but her loincloth; Galley, who kept a stoic watch while studying Miles’ movements; Travolta, who was pondering the right moment to approach Galley for small talk; Rave, who kept manifesting quick flickers of light to try and train up her ability to keep them going with little or no mana; Tricia, still covered in her drone armor and nervously twisting a lock of her short blonde hair, who wanted nothing to do with the fighting and everything to do with keeping everyone healthy and alive; Yui, who just wanted something to observe outside of that damned cave they wouldn’t let her leave; and the odd tag-along pair of the female Knight Jasmine and Deanna who had finally been convinced to leave her oversized pot and walk out with a basic white robe. That the robe stuck to Deanna’s body and outlined its every feminine detail didn’t seem to bother the cloistered half-merfolk teen; it did, however, bother Jasmine, and so the Knight did her best to keep watch over the newly emancipated monster girl.

The illusory wall was behind them now, and Miles quietly guided the party while holding up a small rod of silvery metal bearing light-emanating runes down its squared length. Instead of continuing upwards to rise into the Plate proper, she led the party left and off into a darkened crevice none had noticed on their rare chances to come and go via this path. All the while, the party was treated to trembling shades and black shapes cast by almost biological hallways: ribs of black metal dotted with holes or designs made the flickering rune-light dance in myriad pieces across reliefs depicting wordless displays of spiky, metallic humanoids trampling hundreds of near-humans in large, bleeding piles. Dust caked the terrified expressions etched into the subjects, but the metal itself was not the source; it remained unchanging, unbreakable, and apparently beyond the inexorable march of erosion that the very air should have inflicted.

The final chamber chosen by Miles was signaled by her placing the rod in a sconce and, as if it were truly containing fire, letting rows of runes all light up as energy coursed through them from the catalyst deposited. The end result was a room where light emanated softly from every surface, and so brightly lit everywhere, even the floor, in cross-stitched trails of magical script. The only shadows anyone could see in this place were theirs being cast into the gloom beyond the single doorway in or out of this place; once properly within, only the darkness underneath a planted foot could find safety from the shameless radiance.

In this light, Miles’ hair shined so vibrantly as to seem hand-drawn; the others marveled at it until she turned and, with a wink, threw her arms outwards to show off this little treasure the Bitter Nines had kept secret until now.

Deanna was the first to break the silence with sparkling black eyes. “Whooooa, it’s beautiful!”

Tricia let three of her drones fly from her armor to begin an analysis; the ribbed ceiling, the polygonal pillars sunken into the walls, and the runes that were etched into every place a shadow might dare manifest were all carved with a meticulous, perfected symmetry. Tricia obsessed over the dimensions of the chamber as her drones analyzed them; the room was made from that same, unknown substance that proved virtually indestructible, down to the decorative pillars. More curious was how bereft the room was of apparent function… or parallel to any of the Immovables Tricia had seen thus far. “This is the first time I’ve seen any Immovable with functional runes…”

“Yeah, the only one I’ve seen, too,” Miles admitted, “or at least from when I remember. Golgon told us that Dorani had their own runes before they started using the human ones, runes they used for all kinds of things… even making these Immovables. I guess that’s how this room keeps kicking around, though the light-stick is just a regular one any runecaster can make.” Miles’ arms lowered as she sauntered over to one of the walls and gave it a firm rap of her knuckles. A solid, dull sound answered from the black metal. “But the rest of it? Solid, safe, and clean.”

Tricia continued to marvel at Miles’ grasp of English; if not for John, she would never have believed it was thanks to Miles’ sexual encounters with humans. But really, it reminds me too much of how John’s powers work… Even though she just saw him, Tricia already missed John a bit. “It… is remarkably clean,” Tricia replied, “compared to everything outside…”

“The light’s also… natural, somehow,” Rave muttered.

Tricia set her drones to study the runes in particular. “Natural…? How?”

“I just mean there’s no… mana in the light, except for that rod she put into that holder back there.”

Miles gave an earnest shrug. “Far as I know, the light-stick uses up the extra mana to keep this place going.”

“The air is… cleaner here, isn’t it?” Everyone turned to the high voice of Deanna who, suddenly embarrassed by the attention, glanced to the floor. “I-I mean, it’s just not musty or dirty like everywhere else we’ve been. It’s really… fresh.”

Tricia worked with the holographic projection from her arm for mere seconds before she was nodding in surprised agreement. “They aren’t runes, but small, clear openings for some light source from inside the walls… perhaps the mana ignites some kind of catalyst that burns inside, giving the illusion of a natural source?”

“Who… cares?” Miles suddenly asked, annoyed. “Point is, it works-”

“We’re in a barrier.” The group turned to Galley Gallows in surprise. The brunette’s eyes were planted on the ceiling, though her gaze seemed to go somewhere beyond it. “It’s been bothering me since we stepped in here… because it doesn’t feel like there’s anything outside these walls, or even outside that doorway.”

Everyone glanced back at the hall; the shadowed, musty hall beyond still waited for them… and only now did Tricia realize that the old, dusty floors they shuffled through were still there, now cleanly cut at the line where this chamber began.

Galley Gallows gave the air another sniff. “It’s not like a regular illusion barrier, it’s not closed, and it’s… cleaner, somehow. Like there’s no intent behind it. But Rave’s right: there’s no magic in the light because it’s coming from the barrier’s perimeter, just like the air. It’s only this clean in here because the place was just created.”

“Just… huh?” Miles planted her hands on her hips as she gave Galley a dumbfounded expression. “A barrier is like a wall, right? Like a ‘perimeter’ or…”

“She means a spatial and temporal dislocation of matter rooted in reality but conceived from the Abyss itself,” Tricia explained, “which, per our discussions with your group, is not a phenomenon or power your magic users possess or are familiar with… and yet, I believe Ms. Gallows is correct.”

“But it’s… hold on.” Rave took the initiative and stepped outside of the barrier… and looked back in. The group stared back at her. With a kick, she ushered a lob of gathered dirt into the barrier for all to see. “Can you hear me?” A few nodded back at her, to which she shrugged back. “What kind of barrier lets everyone outside perceive everything inside and vice-versa? That’s no barrier I’ve ever heard of!”

“Although I’ve read many variations of a barrier, this is indeed a rarity. But John’s barrier similarly has an opening… and there are barriers that make perfect replicas of the areas they overlap, difficult as that normally is given the interference from the Abyss...”

“A… place of science.” The room turned to regard Deanna as she idly rubbed a trail of glowing, indecipherable text on the nearest section of wall. “A bright place… of wonder, of learning…” Deanna eventually turned to regard the room with her all-black eyes… and felt her cheeks burn up as she realized all had turned to ogle her. Quietly, she ducked behind Jasmine who suddenly felt charged to glare back at the group.

“Whether or not that’s the use… it’s definitely a barrier,” Galley muttered, “maybe just one designed by people who had no need to hide what they were doing from Sleepers or contain whatever they called in here…”

“Yet this barrier has not manifested any creatures from the Abyss…”

Miles sighed with exasperation, but she was too curious about this new observation to urge them to abandon it. “If it helps, I can tell you’ve trained in here five times now and not noticed anything out of the ordinary, other than the fact that fighting here feels great.”

“Great…?” Tricia ordered more drones from her body, this time to keep scans going on those present.

“What do you normally… fight in here?”

“Usually Hurk,” Miles grunted as she began stretching, “but he’s always weirded out about it, so usually just Golgon these days. Want to try it out?” Miles offered with a grin.

Galley’s wandering gaze fell on Miles… and there she sniffed out that earnest excitement again. Now that everyone had a chance to stand still and was isolated from all the odors of the headquarters, Galley could pick out their scents one by one: Deanna with her mixture of arousal and curiosity; Jasmine with her motherly doting; Rave with her curiosity; Travolta with his trepidation; Tricia with her constant, probing curiosity, every bit of it laced with magical power; Yui with her quiet terror; and Miles, earnest and eager Miles, smelling the same way she often did: a bizarre mixture of man and woman, of mundane and magical power, and of equal parts excitement and bloodlust. Galley could almost smell two people at once in Miles, or perhaps two halves of people, in that she never seemed to be of one emotion, one mind, on anything.

But the oddest thing about how Miles smelled was that she smelled human… actually human. Now that Galley had repeatedly smelled Dorani and the others who lived in this Kingdom, she was sure of it: Miles the Human really was… even if her supernatural body hinted at something else. Galley Gallows wasn’t eager to fight that else, but the way Miles bounced on her heels signaled that Galley wasn’t getting much choice in the matter. “Geez,” the former mage hunter sighed, “I guess I’m the one starting this…”

[MM = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5BRutwcgmw]

Miles hair suddenly shifted into gold and green, and the slivers of smoke seemed more physical as they continued to be pushed upward by an unseen draft. Miles stood, her hands on her hips, as she dared Galley to begin. Miles had seen John’s friends in action, at least some of them; if Galley was like them, then she had some kind of ranged ability, something that would make Miles’ life hard until she acquired “levels” for her special attacks. But here, in this small chamber… Miles had the advantage-

A confident stride forward, and Galley was on her way to the other side of the chamber. Her steps included no hesitation, her arms naught but a practiced, central guard, as she marched straight at Miles.

Fist to fist it is! Miles thought with delight. “Oh? You’re approaching me?”

ROUND ONE!

Galley offered no smile as she replied mid-stride, “I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.”

Miles groped for a smart-ass taunt to throw back at Galley… except the latter had suddenly dashed forward...

FIGHT!

… and planted her fist cleanly between Miles’ chin and collarbone, sending the single note of its blunt impact ringing out from Miles’ throat.

The Bitter Nine reeled backwards from Galley’s outstretched fist with an ugly, **** gasp. Her throat had not collapsed, nor her neck broken, but the blow was stunningly unpleasant.

Galley tsked as she began to calmly bounce on the balls of her feet. “Geez... so this is how weak I’ve become without my Breaker Arms... No, I’m also so… off-balanced…”

Despite the soulless’ self-doubt, Rave whistled in appreciation. “She doesn’t fuck around, huh?”

Tricia shook her head. “Given the data we have so far on Miles as a combatant, however...”

The bare-chested warrior slowly got back into her own fighting stance, her fists raised in a wide guard that seemed to leave her entire center line exposed. Her grin returned even as she continued to cough through dull pain. “Alright, so you’re into it...!”

Galley needed the practice... but she didn’t waste breath explaining that, nor hesitate and let Miles follow-up. Galley rushed forward again, her guard raised and ready to box Miles in the throat a second time. Miles’ arms closed in as she protected her face, leaving the former Hound to direct her punch downwards and at an angle, aiming for Miles’ exposed stomach.

Thud.

Galley’s knuckles brushed against a countering **** before they could connect with flesh; rather than hitting a wall, it was as if Galley had attempted to punch through water or some other form of incredible resistance. If she touched Miles at all, it was with harmless ****… as opposed to Miles’ elbow connecting with Galley’s cheek.

Stars filled Gallows’ vision as she reeled back and raised her guard anew. Miles’ left elbow stung with its success, and she celebrated by whipping that same arm out in a back-handed blow, catching Galley’s guard and putting a dull ache into the latter’s wrist.

Grunting with pain, Galley continued to guard as the two circled one another. Tricia typed furiously as her drones reported more than her eyes alone could tell; Deanna fidgeted and flinched at every brutal impact she witnessed, and all the rest watched quietly as the match continued.

Miles took Galley’s defensive posture with a grunt of disgust and charged forward. Her knee shot forward to where Galley’s head had been, missing it by inches; Galley took the opportunity to catch Miles in a bear hug mid-air, her right hand on Miles’ loincloth and her left blasting blows into the **** lower back. Enough of these and Miles would be pissing blood, but the second blow was the last good one as Miles planted her feet and raised her hands again. Galley was suddenly shunted loose from Miles, again as if an invisible **** had separated them.

Tricia narrowed her eyes at the readings of the drones.

Galley dove backwards as Miles’ hammer blow threatened to come down and break her spine. Only now was the dripping blood from her cut cheek realized, but Galley hadn’t the time to pay it mind. She watched Miles… and waited.

Miles stretched her belly forward as she tried to shake off the pain of the kidney punches. “That’s not all you can do, right?” She went to find her answer as she shot forward and punched Galley square in the mouth-

… and was punched in her own jaw at the same time. The two outstretched southpaws rang in unison as Galley barely managed to catch her in time… and despite the ringing in her skull, Galley knew she had Miles’ defenses figured. The two continued their dance this way for another minute: Galley would back off and observe Miles, and Miles responded with frustrated taunts and an attack. Galley would seldom avoid the attacks, but always answer in turn; Miles just continued to be aggravated as this dance went on, both now bleeding from their noses and lips, Miles glowing red on a few spots on her torso while Galley’s right eye began to swell.

Tricia had observed the strange forcefield that rose around Miles during the initial trades of blows… but they only ever appeared when Miles was alert and with a raised guard. The guard itself seemed irrelevant; every configuration of raising fists or knees in some kind of protection seemed to activate the magical shielding Tricia was detecting, but those same wards fell completely the moment Miles attempted any attack… and so Galley was never again encountering failure in her attacks that connected; she only ever swung once Miles had already “opened” herself up.

That also meant Galley was on track to be reduced to a bloody pulp, a condition that Tricia was fairly certain she could not correct for a Soulless. The Gorbachev thought to beg them to stop, to permit some rest, to prevent serious injury… just as Galley suddenly declared, “Pause.”

Miles flinched forward as she aborted her attack… and slowly mouthed the English word before repeating it. “Pau…se? You’re giving up?”

“No… but I can’t fight like this,” Galley grumbled as she reached down to the white robe—now specked with red—and, with a few grunting tugs, began to rip it at the bottom. Miles and the rest watched in fascinated, confused silence as Galley slowly tore away, by hand, a full three inches from the bottom of the simple cloth she wore; the edge was left ragged and threadbare, now revealing her knees and, given enough movement, threatening to reveal much more. With what appeared to be a satisfactory length of cloth, Galley brought her arms into the robe… and bent her knees to prevent flashing the audience that watched her so intently. “Some… privacy would be appreciated,” she mumbled with a groan of pain. All but Miles averted their eyes.

The slow fall of adrenaline meant Galley was starting to feel her aches and pains much worse as she worked… but she had to do this if she was going to find her old groove again, with or without the Breaker Arms.

When at last all had turned back, only Travolta and Miles realized what Galley had changed… but only by virtue of their attention to Galley’s fairly large chest this entire time.

When at last Galley was ready, her chest was freshly bound by the simple bra she had crafted… and despite the discomfort Miles imagined from such an unnecessary, even painful-looking practice, Galley actually seemed relieved.

Galley shifted her weight about… and smiled softly. “There… that feels much better.”

Miles’ face remained twisted with empathic agony as she stared at Galley’s brutally tied tits.“How?! That looks painful as all-!”

“Unpause.”

“Unpau-?”

Galley was suddenly on Miles again, charging in with her refreshed guard… and suddenly bobbed left as Miles responded with a raised knee aimed at the fighter’s solar plexus. Miles was surprised by this new, proactive speed… nearly as much as she was by Galley suddenly reaching out and gripping the shin of the thrown-out right leg. With a simple scoop, Galley anchored her hand and continued dashing forward, toppling Miles over completely as she tried to keep balanced on the single leg touching the ground; Miles’ arms flailed to try and strike at Galley, only to open herself up to Galley letting go of the leg to flick her arm downward into a snapping, stunning clothesline.

Miles nearly bit her tongue off as the blow connected, sending her head flicking back just as it reached the cold ground below with a sickening crack; Galley’s motion continued as her foot slid, raised, and finally landed on Miles’ nose just as the latter’s head bounced on the ground, pinning it anew.

The entire maneuver had taken barely two seconds, and the crowd watched in stunned surprise as Galley brutally crunched Miles’ nose beneath her heel.

Miles kicked herself upright, landing on her feet… just in time to barely guard against Galley’s left-right combination.

Galley sniffed the air as the forcefield came up. She withdrew her hands… waited a single hearbeat…

Miles shot her leg forward, intent on smashing into the side of Galley’s knee.

The scent of the barrier weakened. There.

SNAP.

Galley twisted her hips and blasted her shin to the side… catching Mile’s knee in a sickening break.

Miles gasped at the sudden, shocking pain of her shattered joint.

EX LEVEL ONE!

“Stupid-!” Miles’ curse transformed into intent… and she leapt backwards on her good leg, daring to stand awkwardly on the newly ruined one, and forgot her plan to hold back.

Galley prepared to follow-up… right up until she noticed Miles’ blue-glowing fists. Galley held up a casual guard as she watched… and, without flinching, received the first of the blue explosions that lit up on her **** fist.

Miles shadowboxed in Galley’s direction to release flying, blue projectiles, each shaped like one of Miles’ imagined blows, broadly into Galley’s direction. There was no dodging this spread; Galley would be hit, just as were the squadrons of Lawmen Miles had used this power to slaughter before.

The explosions began to ring out in the tiny chamber, and now Miles was too satisfied, too angry to slow her attack. The blue energy made it impossible to see what was becoming of Galley Gallows beneath this withering torrent. It wasn’t until she was already halfway through the barrage that Miles began to realize she must have been really injuring Galley, even killing her, and how this use of power was far beyond what she was hoping to achieve here. Miles tried to calm herself, to stop the rain of blows as she began to realize she may have even overestimated the human, or the sort of punishment she could take…

… which was a thought extinguished as Galley’s form broke the waterfall of blue energy. Galley’s body twisted as her haymaker fist crossed almost an entire body’s length from where the attack began to where her whole body was bringing it… right until it landed, at a diagonal, downward angle, upon Miles the Human’s left eye socket.

CRACK.

The orbital fracture was rapid and expanding; Miles’ arms now flailed in agony as her face collapsed beneath the uncensored blow of a fist breaking itself on her head. Miles let out an awful, brief shriek; Galley’s expression was determined and unmoved even as she felt her knuckles crack and splinter.

The blue energy faded harmlessly… at least, harmless to Galley’s flesh. The walls of the barrier now bore scorch marks from the blows that zoomed past the unmoving Galley Gallows; the latter’s thin clothes, neither enchanted nor strong enough to withstand such an attack, had been disintegrated beyond recognition into the tiny scraps of white that fluttered in the air where Galley once stood.

Galley considered the last time some mage’s spell left her naked in front of strangers… and somehow, she once again had John Newman to thank. “Good grief.”

Miles responded, silently, by collapsing from where she stood in a broken heap. Miles’s face, a collapsed, bleeding mess, offered no additional response... and no one conscious was there who could hear the announcer declare:

Daisy Dandelion Nippel wins!

Appreciative of her work, but not of her sudden nudity, Galley let her broken hand rest in front of her crotch as she scooped her breasts in the nook of her arm. Blood and bruises marked her all over, and her right eye had now properly swollen shut. Tricia’s drones flew near the soulless one… and, as she had feared, recognized no entity capable of receiving healing magic. “Miss… Gallows,” she hesitantly offered, “I am attempting to heal you, but it appears-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Galley replied, “I… know… ugh…” Galley swooned as she tried to walk past the group; Travolta was there to quickly catch her, his hands awkwardly doing their best to avoid groping the woman in the process.

ROUND TWO!

Galley knew it would be at least a week before she was up for another fight… unless John’s abilities to reach her—to influence her of all people with magic—meant he could help. But her thoughts drifted from the growing pains of her body and John to that strange, quiet tingle of unsureness inside her.

“What is… wait, what… what?” Tricia’s confused stammering was joined by others.

“Wait, who’s-? What the fuck?”

“There’s… two of…?”

“Holy shit.”

Galley slowly turned, expecting half of what she saw: Miles the Human, once again awake and standing, completely healed of her wounds, and with her large, unerect cock now swinging freely in the air.

What no one had an explanation for was how Miles the Human no longer had her iconic head of prismatic hair… or why there was a second, lifeless body of Miles the Human, her face still collapsed and no longer breathing, just behind the one now standing tall and fully healed.

“How,” Miles demanded, her anger directed squarely at Galley, “does doing that to your tits,” she said, groping her own to emphasize, “make you stronger?!”

A few shaking fingers gestured towards the corpse behind her… but just as quickly, the corpse began to rise into the air as a floating chunk of colors, fluctuating and manifold, that faded from existence. When the last of the old Miles the Human was wiped from reality, the scalp of the new one was once again lit with sudden, prismatic flair of energy that flickered alive like a virgin campfire. None continued to offer any explanation for what was happening… and none answered Miles’ question.