legionworld | THE MIND SLAYER

THE MIND SLAYER

She's been setting this up for weeks now. It's almost too easy with how trusting these Legion fools can be. If they'd only taken her seriously, if they hadn't laughed at her then... Well, things would be different. Now they'd welcome her with open arms. After she killed a few of them, of course.

This has to be done up close. She'd taken a job as a waitress in the mess halls. The older Legion, the ones who'd been at her tryout, didn't even recognize her. They deserved this more than their replacements. She almost feels sorry for them. But, no, she had to move before Saturn Queen went to trial in a few days. Meta, Esper, she's Esper now, can't risk any more time. If it's to be done, it has to be done now. She'd rather be further away, but her mental range isn't as long as she'd like. Tucked away into a dark corner of Legion World, she stood across from her costume. Heroes wore costumes, and she couldn't call herself that while doing this, but she could still draw strength from it.

She watches it, imagining how she'll look in it, and shivers. Nerves, she tells herself, glancing at the trigger device in her hands. "I'm sorry," Esper whispers. "But I deserve this." With the press of a button, the nanofactories kick into high gear and, for over a dozen Legionnaires, the lights go out. Whatever they're doing, their physical bodies instantly collapse and slump over, as if they're in a coma. Anyone coming too close, entering her psychic range, joins them.

They awaken almost instantly, finding themselves in a hellish amalgam. Parts of their worlds slammed together to make some twisted patchwork reality. And, like Oz himself, Esper's head appears above them, smiling with forced confidence. "You deserve to know what's happening, Legionnaires. My name is Esper! And you're locked into your own mindscapes. I've seeded you with teletechnology designed to tear your minds apart! It will be painless, mostly, but the weakest among you will fall to your own memories as my machines convince your subconscious that you shouldn't be alive." She drifts back a little, examining the group. "And, linked like this, if one of you falls, all of you die. Don't resist and make it more painful for yourselves. Just surrender and make it painless and easy for your friends. And don't try anything stupid. I'll be watching."

With that, she slides out, making sure her mindfield keeps people away from this section of Legion World, and that those who are still awake haven't noticed the heroes dropping like flies.

But she'll be back. And her machines have already set to work.

[[If you wish to have your characters discuss matters, set up your comments in the mingle post! Otherwise, make new toplevels for every mental scenario you'll work with.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, hell. This isn't going to work out if Locus bleeds out before they can get this memory fixed. He searches his storage - c'mon, this is standard issue, there's no way he would have forgotten it, come on-

Yes! He palms the canister of biofoam and claps a hand on Locus' shoulder. "Hold still a second." It's the work of a few seconds to move Locus' hand, find the entry point for his side wound, and depress the entire canister of biofoam in there. It'll hurt like a bitch, but it's worth it to keep Locus alive.

In the meantime, the Covenant stragglers that have managed to break from the line have gotten way too close for comfort. Wash turns and guns down a Grunt, and that's one down, but there's still half a dozen more bearing down on them, including one Elite that looks a little too interested in their predicament. Shit. "Move! Move!"

Anything touching that wound was going to smart like a mother, but Locus barely registers the pain at this point. Shock, maybe? No, he's still responsive enough to move, to follow orders and drag himself along, but it's obvious making it out of here alone wouldn't have been an option.

Of course, when one of the Elites starts bearing down on Washington, it's almost reflex to flip his rifle up into position, aiming just over Wash's shoulder and blasting at the part between armor plating at the creature's throat.

Too many lost, too many dead, Gates is gone, they're all gone, and if his rescuers fall too he thinks he might actually crack.

That's one more thing they have in common - even under duress and in motion, they're both damn good shots. Turns out Wash appreciates it a lot more when it's not turned on him. He keeps one arm around Locus and aims his pistol with the other, picking off any Grunt that decides to get too close (thankfully, the Elite that Locus already took out has been the only one to break the line so far).

This might actually work. Isn't that a nice change.

"Keep it steady," he says. "I've got you."

THE MIND SLAYER

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