Project Devilgama

Twenty

The capsular elevator was now lifting the three through the dark tube, to return them to the light. It was propelled up by the impromptu deal, and a constant amount of strong electromagnetic force. Carrying up will, desire, and the Drive on this ascend, Mhaz rewired his brain to fight for something again. He wondered what kind of predicament waited for him, but anyway, the underground trip was not long enough to bring him too far from the Los Bunder. And along the ascend, any thoughts on the Platform kept bothering him.

One thing was certain to him; anyone about to man the Platform – fighters emerging from the gloomy tunnels – had redrawn the frontline further ahead, much closer to the enemies. The "deployment" was a fleeting moment, and he was stuck below the call of duty that he should have never answered. It felt slightly illegal for him to mess again with the Dogs, somehow.

But then he remembered the sentence. It erupted suddenly and slid down like burning ashes, setting his body awash in invigorating heat. It went "In Nomine Scientiae." He would never forget the name he was fighting for and under. He would never forget the despicable horde that killed the glory of this world. As what Nate said prior, people need a philosophically-able mindset to revive the rusty engine of progress. He couldn't agree more to that.

Watcher and Nate were silent. Mhaz followed through the same cave of quietness.

Then the darkness of the tunnel began to drain down like a sucked liquid, replaced by a grayish abstraction of the floor of the destroyed concrete jungle. As he lifted upward, the brighter his surroundings seemed to be – like a gradient along the vertical movement of the elevator. Like a sub that progressively floats back up from the abyss.

Mhaz saw several glints that formed webs of luminescent vines stemming from the rocky floor, eating away the rubbles of Beton. Wrecks of Transporters scattered all over the place. Palisades of withered skyscrapers remained lined upon his sight.

"What's up there?" Mhaz asked.

"The Platform, Mhaz. This ascent might be our weakest moment, but we are pretty tiny from afar. Anyone could barely take a shot upon us."

"You better make sure of that, for I have seen them using automatic stabilizers set to fire upon thermal signature. They place their guns on a sort of cradle that can freely rotate, and the accuracy of the shots was unmatched."

"Remember the one up there, Mhaz." Nate pointed at the ceiling as if he could pierce it and reach the sky. "The ABS is on our side. We are not going to fall. Our root is planted deep, and we aspire to the sky. I know it needs more than an aspiration, but ... that and you are all we got."

Mhaz sighed, "Well, I have read some history. This kind of war was once used to spark inside the semi-virtual 'world.' People used to call them 'world' the Media. It was accessed through peoples' cellular, so they could launch a war from their homes. Sounds fun, isn't it?"

"Kinda," Nate replied tensely.

"It is not. Boring." Mhaz said with chuckle. "I prefer today's virtual worlds. Devilgama, surely."

Nate shook his head.

Peeking left, Mhaz finally saw the slightly yellowish sun lurking behind the clouds, somewhere up in the sky. He and the two had gone higher than the tallest skyscraper. He could also see the other hovering Platforms – they were placed sparsely in the air and each of their small elevators containing soldiers plumes up, in unison, from the depth of the sprawling city. There were numerous of them, so many that Mhaz would not waste time counting them. Fortunately, his fat spectacle had processed them all and marked it on Mhaz's sight with blue rhomboid outlines – the sign of friendlies. Do not engage.