CHAPTER 122: THE FINAL CONFRONTATION

Marcus was getting frustrated about waiting for the seed to copy itself. So was Aldric. But Tom was looking at every corner of the building and strange technology, admiring the craftsmanship despite their dangerous situation.

"Tom, don't get distracted. Connect to Palwin as soon as this finishes copying. Ask her to open a portal to you," Marcus said, checking the copying device's progress.

"It is just that there is raw energy flooding in me I am looking for that, don't worry. Worry about the city when we get back," Tom replied, though his eyes kept wandering to the fascinating alien technology surrounding them.

Aldric wiped sweat from his forehead. "When will the copying end?"

Marcus stared at the humming device with growing unease. "I have no idea. It's still turning and doing its thing, I guess. It's not technology I'm familiar with."

Who built this? Marcus thought. Who can build a machine that copies basically a world's DNA? The idea made him shiver. There were big forces at play here, and Marcus and his friends weren't even pawns on the board. They were insects stumbling through a cosmic game they couldn't comprehend.

A big commotion started coming together outside. The sounds of many footsteps, voices, and mechanical movement echoed through the building's walls.

Tom suddenly stiffened, his connection to Palwin bringing urgent information. "Palwin just shouted things in her mind. I think Malachar left the warzone with a portal unlike anything Palwin has ever seen."

Aldric's face went pale. "What?"

Marcus felt ice form in his stomach. He guessed they have a mechanism or a way to deliver him the news. If Malachar had abandoned the siege, there was only one place he would come. Here. To stop them from completing their mission and stealing his greatest secrets.

Marcus called Tom and Aldric to his side. They quickly created a small barricade in front of the giant ring platform using pieces of the scholars' abandoned equipment.

"Get ready. I'm putting the protection machine on the floor just in case." Marcus positioned the crude mind protection device and gave the wire end attached to the battery to Tom. He took off his shoe and put his bare foot on the exposed part of the battery. I hope this works, he thought.

The door burst open with tremendous force. The same people they had seen outside, workers and guards, hurried inside and the hurt griffon man. But this time they looked more like zombies than before. Even the engineers and scholars who had been working inside now moved with mindless, mechanical shuffling. Their eyes were vacant, their movements coordinated by an invisible puppeteer.

And at the end of the procession, he entered. The dark wizard Malachar.

Marcus had expected someone more obviously evil, perhaps draped in dark robes or bearing obvious signs of corruption. Instead, Malachar appeared to be a man in his mid fifties wearing a three piece suit that would have looked perfectly normal in Marcus's 1900's. He looked like a professor or businessman, someone who might deliver lectures at a university or run a corporation. Only his eyes betrayed the centuries of accumulated power and madness that lurked beneath the civilized exterior.

Malachar shouted in Valdris, "You are the Valdrians who entered my home!" His shout sounded more excited than angry, like a scientist who had discovered an interesting new specimen.

Almost thirty people formed a barricade in front of him, while behind him zombified guards could barely walk as they entered the chamber.

Malachar studied them with obvious fascination. "I heard rumors about a young innovator meddling with everything. You are the one who captured Koroth and cut my supply lines?"

Marcus felt anger building inside him. "There is nothing to talk about with you. You killed millions, enslaved millions, and now you're starving millions."

Malachar tilted his head as if genuinely puzzled. "Ask yourself why. Do I look like a crazy dark overlord to you?"

Aldric stepped forward despite his fear. "What you look like, how you sound, does it matter? Your actions speak for themselves."

Malachar waved his hand dismissively. "You shut your mouth, roach."

The command hit Aldric like a physical blow. "Come on Marcus, we need to leave," he said, pulling bombs from his satchel. Marcus and Aldric kept their feet on the crude battery, getting zapped by small electrical currents. The alternative was much, much scarier.

Malachar was intrigued by their resistance to his mental influence. "What do you have there blocking my power? Your danger levels keep rising. Who else has access to that technology?" He pointed at the crude battery with growing interest.

Malachar expected an answer but didn't receive one. His expression shifted to something more calculating. "Just because my generals are all at war doesn't mean I can't defend myself. Young man, which planet are you getting your knowledge from?"

Tom looked confused. "Planet?"

Marcus kept his rifle pointed at the crowd. "Don't let him distract us."

Tom's face scrunched with concentration. "Marcus, this machine is disrupting my mind. I can't reach Palwin."

Malachar smiled knowingly. "Grana? I had an advisor there who helped me build the designs for this power plant. Or is it Torwa? They have a fascination for purity, bettering the world, all that idealistic garbage."

Marcus finally decided to address him directly. "Guess again," he said in English.

Malachar's eyes lit up with genuine delight. "English! Really, you are a fellow Terran. I haven't spoken it for over 100 years. How is everyone back home? I'm planning a visit soon." The threat in his voice was unmistakable.

Marcus felt cold dread wash over him. "Visit? What do you mean?"

"All your questions can be answered. Join me and I'll make you rich. I need people like you. Brave, smart, resourceful."

Tom stepped protectively closer to Marcus. "Marcus would never join people like you."

Malachar's pleasant demeanor vanished. "I said shut your mouths, you roaches!" He sent two zombified workers to attack Tom, who defended himself with enhanced punches that sent them flying.

"I see you need to stay tethered to that power source," Malachar observed with scientific interest.

Marcus whispered to Tom, "When I give you the signal, drop the machine and send a signal to Palwin. It's our only way out."

"Not for a million years would I join you," Marcus said aloud. "I don't know what you're planning here, but the day will come when we crush everything you've stolen from this world. Ephus brought you here to help, not to enslave it."

Malachar's expression grew distant and grandiose. "You think so small. Look what I've built with knowledge from just two worlds. What could I become? What could mere humans become with the combined knowledge and power of hundreds of worlds?"

While speaking, he began sending his mind controlled minions forward. Their movements were perfectly coordinated, like pieces on a chess board being moved by a master player. Tom punched anyone who got too close, but they kept coming in organized waves.

"If you're so confident, release these minds and let's see who joins who," Marcus challenged.

Malachar went into a trance like state and started orchestrating his people like a conductor directing a symphony. The precision was terrifying and beautiful at the same time.

"Aldric, use those bombs now! Throw them at the back!" Marcus ducked under the platform and saw that the seed copying device had stopped its humming. He immediately grabbed it and turned toward the advancing crowd.

Malachar continued sending his minions while talking, as if multiple conversations were happening simultaneously. "I was a born in France in the 1850s. I tried to implement Ephus magic in Terra. They ridiculed me. Insulted my work. I died there, broke and alone." His face darkened. "Betrayed by my partners".

Marcus was trying to incapacitate the zombified people without killing them, but they were fearless and kept advancing despite bullet wounds. He was getting surrounded.

Marcus shouted back at Malachar, "I guess they were right to insult you. You became worse than anyone in history!" He was trying to provoke Malachar into showing himself as a target, and the dark wizard fell for it. To answer Marcus's claim, he stepped forward.

That's when Marcus saw his opportunity and took a deep breath.

"Sorry everyone, but this might be our only shot," Marcus said. He aimed toward Malachar and pressed the trigger. An array of bullets flew toward the dark wizard.

The guards behind Malachar immediately moved to protect him, absorbing the bullets that would have found their mark. But Marcus didn't want to give him time to rest and develop a strategy. He pressed the attack while Aldric's bombs exploded, destroying parts of the building.

"Tom, get ready!" Marcus aimed and fired again at the tiny sight of Malachar he could see, hitting him in the left side. Blood poured from the wound.

But one of the zombified workers had reached the platform and activated something. A green portal opened in the giant ring, electricity pulsating in patterns completely different from Palwin's magic. The portal was massive, violent, and wrong in ways that hurt to look at.

Marcus shouted, "Tom, now!"

Someone grabbed Aldric and severed his connection to the protection machine. Marcus shot the attacker down, but another portal appeared right beside the first one. This one was clearly Palwin's work, smaller and more controlled. But Aldric's eyes had gone numb, showing the vacant stare of mind control.

Malachar was shouting from pain. "PUSH THEM OUT. KILL THEM. DO SOMETHING. MINDLESS IDIOTS."

The crowd pushed Tom and Marcus toward the monstrous portal Malachar had opened in the ring. The dark wizard's hurt voice echoed through the chamber. "Lack of guidance should send them to empty space."