Miracles of Arx Nubibus by mimikilstories | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Chapter 74 Chapter 75 Chapter 76 Chapter 77 Chapter 78 Chapter 79 Chapter 80 Chapter 81 Chapter 82 Chapter 83 Chapter 84 Chapter 85 Chapter 86 Chapter 87 Chapter 88 Chapter 89 Chapter 90 Chapter 91 Chapter 92 Chapter 93 Chapter 94 Chapter 95 Chapter 96 Chapter 97 Chapter 98 Chapter 99 Chapter 100 Chapter 101 Chapter 102 Chapter 103 The Phone Call Louise's First Costume When Keyla was Here A Day at the Garcia House The Keeper Sibling Bonds Once Upon a Time in High School Lillie's Recipes Lightning the Mentor A Miraculous Medical Aide Louise's Day Off An Ethereal Fairy Eternal Youth A Miracle Manifests Three Generals Deep Thoughts Over Lemonade Three Branches, Three Days A Miracle of Science Dreams of Heroes The Makings of a Thief Girl Time Wishing for More Courtney Larsen, Age 15 A Greenhouse Tour

Arx Nubibus
Ongoing 1486 Words

Chapter 64

1230 0 0

Prime yawned as he and Light Master started to head back to Legion headquarters. It had been an uneventful Friday, which grated on the kid, but was fine by Prime. Just because they could fight didn't mean they had to. Peaceful was better for all involved. 

He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes to six. They would probably meet back up with Achilles at headquarters before taking their breaks while he patrolled. 

"Why doesn't anything happen on patrols?" Light Master mumbled, probably not asking anyone in particular. Prime answered anyway. 

"It's best if our presence is a deterrent for crime. As boring as you might think it is, what do you think the military's emergency response teams spend their lives doing? They're on standby in case something happens." 

"They don't have Miracles," the boy replied grumpily. 

"Maybe, but that doesn't make their work any less important." 

"I wish something would happen. Like now." 

"Please don't say things like that," Prime sighed. "They say to be careful what you wish for in case it comes true." 

"If it comes true, I'd get to fight for once in my life," Light Master grumbled. 

Prime held back another sigh as they walked back toward headquarters. 

 

"This is it, Paris," Scattershot said quietly, looking down over the busy walkways. "If you don't screw this up, they'll be screaming your name in terror." 

"Terror," Mist mumbled, looking like she was half-asleep. And half in the wall. 

"Wake up, June," Itera growled. "Head in the game." 

In response, Mist just stuck her head further in the wall until she was immersed in it. 

"It's fine," Manifest said, doing his best to keep the peace. "We move on your orders, Boss." 

Paris nodded. He scanned the crowd for a good target. 

There. 

Three adults with several small children. They looked like a sports team heading to a game. Plenty of children to take hostage. 

"That team's our mark," he said, pointing. The others nodded. Even Mist took her head out of the wall to take a look. 

"Looks good to me," Scattershot said. She glanced around, taking stock of the surrounding crowd. They shouldn't have been any issues, so Paris was slightly relieved when she nodded firmly. 

"We move on my signal," Paris said. He raised his arm, tense and ready for what came next. 

One of the kids ran ahead of the group, causing the adults to call for her to return. 

Paris swung his arm down, and the Phalanx moved immediately, heading for the lone girl. 

 

Emma laughed as Ms. Gibbs called for her to stay with the rest of the basketball team. The adults were so silly about keeping everyone together. They all knew where the stadium was. It was right by her school. There was no way she'd get lost when she'd been walking there every day since she started kindergarten - and now she was in Grade 2. That was like two years - no, it was more than two. 

Aurora giggled at her antics while Tiffany huffed in annoyance. She was such a teacher's pet. As Emma darted ahead through the crowd, she heard Norah following her. 

As she glanced back to look at Norah and laugh at the look on the adults' faces, Emma didn't realize that the rest of the crowd was starting to panic. She didn't notice the cries of fear. She was too focused on her game. 

"Gotcha." 

Emma looked up, suddenly realizing how far she was from Ms. Gibbs. A man in a purple costume grabbed her head. Cold laughter came out from behind his mask. 

"Manifest, round the rest of them up. Scattershot, Mist, set up a perimeter. Anyone who enters becomes ours. As for you..." The man grabbed her and hoisted her up so she was at his eye level. 

Emma didn't understand what was happening. Why was a stranger picking her up? Only her dad was allowed to pick her up. She squirmed and pushed, trying to get down, but the man growled and readjusted his grip. 

"Hey, stay still, squirt." 

"No!" Emma screamed. "Let me go! You're not my dad!" She kicked her legs frantically, and hit him in the abdomen. 

"Emma!" She looked and saw Ms. Gibbs desperately waving her over. She started to run, but the man grabbed her by the shoulders. 

"You damn brat," he growled through his teeth. 

"Careful, Paris," one of the women said teasingly. "We don't want to hurt them at all, right?" 

"Here, let me." Another woman knelt in front of Emma. "What's your name sweetie?" 

"I don't talk to strangers!" Emma spat, trying to get away again. Then she felt her body move against her will. She'd been moving away from the man in purple, but then she slid backwards right into his hands again. "Let me go!" Tears started streaming down her face. 

"You don't want to be friends? If we're friends, I'll no longer be a stranger. Here, you can call me Itera." The woman's voice dripped with fake friendliness. Emma felt like she wasn't being given a choice in anything. 

"Boss, I got them rounded up. Thirty-six kids, eight adults." Another man's voice came from behind her as Emma quivered under Itera's gaze. 

"Let her go." Ms. Gibbs stood a short ways away, her hands up in the air. "Just let her come to me. She's scared." 

Never had anyone looked so heroic in Emma's life. Maybe she should start listening to Ms. Gibbs more often. 

"Fine." Paris let go of her and Emma ran over to Ms. Gibbs, flinging her arms around her waist. Ms. Gibbs picked her up and stroked her hair, her soft voice comforting Emma after all the frightening strangers. 

"You're okay, sweetie. We're all going to be okay." 

Emma just cried into her shoulder. She could hear other kids crying too. 

Why was this happening? 

 

Paris took stock of Manifest's work. The hostages had all been herded into a sort of fence. He'd said they had over forty people, which would definitely get them noticed. The kids were mostly crying and screaming obnoxiously, but hopefully that would incentivize the government to act and give the Phalanx what it wanted. 

Today that was money. They'd decided on a formula based on how many hostages they had, and the numbers were kind of ridiculous. But unfortunately, the world ran on money. Without it, the Phalanx would be gone before it even got started. Jase had been bankrolling them so far, but Paris really needed to start making his own money if he wanted to be free of that slimy wannabe mastermind. 

"Mist, find the government response and tell them our demands." She looked at him blankly, then nodded. She turned to Manifest. 

"What's our demand come to?" 

"Weren't you listening?" Paris demanded. 

"I don't wanna do math. Hey, how much is it?" 

Manifest sighed and gave her the number, and she floated up to get a better view of their surroundings. 

"That girl has no dedication," Paris muttered. 

"She's dedicated," Itera replied. "The fact that she's here and doing what you say is proof of that." 

"Whatever." Paris stepped up and snapped his fingers to get their hostages' attention. 

The crying abated a bit, and everyone turned to him. Smiling beneath his mask, he started making his speech. 

"You're now under Phalanx protection. No harm will come to you until your government comes to negotiate for you. Then, well, we'll see if they protect you." He caused a small wisp of poison smoke to travel through the crowd. One kid inhaled it and started coughing uncontrollably for a moment before Paris pulled it back. 

A good demonstration of power, if he said so himself. 

"Don't blame us if your precious protectors don't think you're worth saving. Any attack on us and someone gets hurt. If you struggle, we can't guarantee your safety either. Your best bet is to wait here until the negotiations have concluded. Got that, kiddos? It's not our fault if we have to hurt you. It'll be because your government and your military are making us hurt you." 

He rather liked the speech. As he concluded, Mist came back. 

"They said they'll give us half what we ask for," she said flatly. 

"Not good enough," Paris replied coldly. "Scattershot, give them a small demonstration." 

"You sure?" she asked. Why did they have to question him? 

"Certain. Graze one of the kids." 

She shrugged and did as he said. The child screamed in terror. Hopefully that would get the message across. 

The Phalanx was serious. 

 

Courtney was finishing up dinner with Lillie when her phone rang. She glanced at it. Barron. 

"Sorry, Lil, I gotta take this," she said, leaving the room. 

When she was out of earshot, Courtney answered the phone. 

"Larsen, we need you. Alert the rest of the Legion too." 

The words made her blood run cold. 


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