Title: From the Ashes Author: Phoenixflame Rating: R Summary: Two hundred years after Black Rose, a new civilization has risen from the ashes. City-states fight for control and dominance. One city has risen above the others as a city where 'freaks', or so-called 'good' demon forces can walk freely. Controlled by the mysterious dictator called Black Phoenix, New Avalon is far from perfect. This is the future of the Phoenix universe, and the conclusion to a story that has taken two years to complete... ~Prologue: Jungleland~ //Monster Magnet: Space Lord// The city never slept. Even when the sun sank down under the horizon and out of sight, the 'freaks' of New Avalon roamed the streets and skytubes, sometimes blending with the nightlife, sometimes all too obviously engaging in illegal activities. Gang wars were the norm in New Avalon, and it was old news, not even worthy for a mention in the sim-casts. One such gang was preparing for an attack run into the territory of another gang. They sat or stood in a small maintenence corridor just past a skytube. Deep shadows obscured the black-clad forms. "We're here to engage in nothing more than smash and grab." the leader of the gang hissed, her voice unusually calm and clear for a 'freak'. "This is not all-out war, we just need the cash or Hazzidrib is going to stop turning a blind eye to our use of the warehouse. Avoid bloodshed, knock 'em out if you have to. Use the linkers if you need to, but save power. Short messed with 'em so you have maybe three minutes before the auto-trackers the bandwidth coppers have lock on." "Aye." hissed most of the gang. Short, the small technician of the group, fiddled with an earset, dark eyes flitting from one gangster to the next with a jerkiness that was typical of her. "Go!" the leader snapped, turning a light-purple tinted head towards the skytube. And the Fallen Angels of New Avalon burst out into the night traffic, some of them becoming noticeably demonic. As panic ensued, the more human members ducked into the crowd, seizing purses, wristlinks, and anything the people happened to have in their pockets. One of them whipped into a store, grabbed a nice-looking black trenchcoat off of a businesswoman who shrieked in surprise and grabbed for her. The black-haired beauty with yellow eyes laughed at her and dodged away. The woman, quite prudently, screamed and ran. The young woman slipped the trenchcoat on. "Perfect." she hissed, and ran off into the crowd. The coat let her blend in with the rest of the businessmen and looked good to boot. Two minutes later, full pandemonium reigned in the mall. The young-looking Fallen Angel was having the time of her life grabbing purses, pulling out A-marks, and discarding the wallets to ve tripped over by fleeing men and women. The more monstrous Angels were gone, having done their job. It was to be expected. Even now, the gang was fading away, leaving only the most bold. The militia was coming... Uniformed men and women burst from out of nowhere. The woman's head jerked around, and she smiled. "A bit early." she murmured to herself. "Get her!" Her eyes narrowed when she noticed the lack of the other gang-members. As a smoke-sleeper mine landed at her feet, she launched into the air, performing a perfect twirl-flip in mid-air as the gas spread out beneath her, knocking out the panicking citizens. Grabbing the pipe on he ceiling, she hoisted herself up, kicked a grate hard, and swung back as the grate fell a good eight feet to the ground. Then she swung forwards, and flipped up into the large air-duct. She slithered through the duct system like a snake, until she heard the sounds oF a normal mall venue. Opening the vent, she peered down, and dropped down into the closed shop. The shop had been closed, and entrusted to a thick-weight mesh dropped across the entrance that saved her from being seen by mall-goers. It was designed to be unopenable from the outside, unless you had the correct genetic prints. From the inside, it was the simple matter of flipping a switch. The lights came on, the displays danced, and pre-programmed helper robots began to patrol, asking her if they could help her. With great sarcasm, she informed them there was nothing she needed, and left the store. "There she is!" Instinct warned her. Jumping into the air, she twirled around to see a squad of militia-men charging into the crowds. These ones didn't seem content to use sleep-mines. Her eyes narrowed as nerve-whips slashed out, trying to entangle her. Landing, she flipped backwards to get away from one of the whips, and twisted in midair to avoid another. She landed gracefully on the counter of a candy-store, causing the occupants to flee. "Come and get me." she purred at the militia men, wiggling an eyebrow, staying in a crouch. She scanned around for something to use, somewhere to hide, and noticed the entrance to a pleasure suite. As the miltia charged towards her, she jumped down off the table, and rushed towards them, howling like a banshee. Their whips snapped out at her, and she jumped over them as they tangled, and landed behind them. "Shit! A freak!" one of them said. "That's Ms. Freak to you, bozo." she replied, giving him the finger. Jumping, she landed atop an ornate statue that resembled a decorated pillar with water pouring out the top. Posing, legs tight, arms crossed and head thrown backs, she pronounced. "I am Sauriel, angel of death, consort to the Lord Michael, the Master. Shiver, fools, for you have no idea what you're dealing with!" She stared down at them through yellow eyes, smiling. "Bitch!" Someone pulled a sidearm, and Sauriel moved faster than anyone could have possibly imagined, jumping off of the statue as it was riddled with bullets. Landing near the entrance to the holosuite, she knocked the attendent unconcious, fiddled with the controls, and raced inside. The inside of the suite was made using 'freak' designed spells and artifacts. A pleasure suite was rare to find, except in the posh parts of the city. It took a long time to create something of the sort. All she needed to do was split the team up, knock them out, and- The illusionary corridors flickered and vanished. She went into a combat stance. The holo-suite reformed into a large, oak-paneled and floored room with a nice red carpet underfoot. Around the room, boxing her in, were the militia squads. "Two rats with one trap. A record." Their leader, a man with a jagged scar down the middle of his face, smiled at her, his voice pure poison. "Well, /Sauriel/, it's gone on long enough. Give it up. There's no way out." Sauriel noticed the small form of a Fallen Angel being guarded by two miltia men. "Short!" "Sorry, Sauriel. They collared me." the little tech apologized. She wrenched out of their grasp and raced to hug her fellow gangster. The miltia let her. That was a big mistake. Short may have her hands collared, but Sauriel didn't. She hugged Short close. "Pocket. Hit the button." Short hissed in her ear, breathing ragged. Quick as a snake, Sauriel's hand darted into Short's pocket, and she pulled out a small device, hit the button, and tossed it down. "Suckers!" both of them yelled. The illusion collapsed into utter darkness. Sauriel snagged Short and dragged her towards the exit, kicking butt on the way out. The two stumbled out into the mall, laughing their heads off. "Turn around." Sauriel told Short when they stopped laughing and running near a small boutique. The tech obeyed, and Sauriel took the cuffs in her hands, and pulled. The cuffs fell apart. "Thanks, Sauriel." "How'd they get you?" asked Sauriel. "I was gonna hide in the suite, hotwire it, and mess up the mils." Short explained. "But they caught me on the way there." "Damn. C'mon, let's get going before the goon squad shows up." Sauriel raced off, Short following hot on her heels. It didn't take long for the 'goon squad' to get their wits straightened out, and soon they found themselves in an old trinket shop near the top of the tower. Sauriel looked around. "Can I help you?" She whirled around, and saw an old man sitting at the counter. He squinted at her. "Who's there? Don't shoplift, I've got sensors." "Just two girls. There's some people after us." "Eh? You caused trouble." "Maybe a little." squeaked Short. "Heh. I'll bet the militia's after you, young lady. But seeing as you're just a young girl... there's an old glider over there. Just snap the wings out..." Sauriel inspected the glider with respect. "How do I use it?" "Simple..." The old man explained while Sauriel snapped the wings into place. "Best of all, if they're light, two people can ride. The bigger should be below the smaller, with the smaller strapped in place using these..." Five minutes later, as the miltia pounded up the steps, Sauriel finished strapping Shorty in, and nodded. "Thanks, sir." She dropped a few A-marks on the counter, enough to pay for the glider. "You're not bad for an old guy." She headed over to the forcefield, and grabbed on to the handles of the glider, mounting it. "Thanks! Good luck!" the old man said, pulling the override switch. The entire shop, and the militia bursting through the door, were thrown into chaos by the winds. As soon as the glider was wrenched out into the wind, the forcefield snapped back up, leaving some extremely frustrated militiamen inside of the building. The tower was seventy stories high. Winds going through the city got up to gale force, especially that high up. The glider soared up, then sideways. Sauriel guided it downwards, swooping down. Short shrieked and shut her eyes. "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die..." As they soared down, the winds lessened, and they weren't so much riding the wind as gliding down, albeit not as well as Sauriel would have liked. At the rate they were going, she thought, they would be lucky if their remains managed to be big enough to fill a dust-pan. Sauriel spotted something lucky. A crane. A construction crane dragged into the city for later dismantling. And it had a line on it. One with a nice big hook about ten stories off the ground. Sauriel grinned, and reached up, untying the straps. "Hold on to me!" Since she didn't have any other choice other than falling several stories to her death, Short clung on to her with a death grip. As they swept towards the chain, Sauriel tensed, and waited. Waited. As the glider struck the crane, she grabbed out with preternatural speed and strength, seizing the scaffolding, arms wrapping tightly around an ancient cable wound around the scaffolding. It held. "Short." Sauriel spoke very calmly. "You're a good climber, right?" "R-Right..." "Do you have a hand on the cable?" "Yeah..." The cord shifted in Sauriel's hands as Short took a hold of it. "Climb down. I'll follow." The way down was excrutiatingly tiring. Addrenaline kept the two going. When she got to the bottom, Short collapsed. So did Sauriel. "I am never doing that again." Short snored in response. Sauriel let her head fall back on the packed dirt, and joined her comrade in sleep.