Bloodstained Skies: The Core Of Rage: Bloodstained Skies: The SynthBreed Trilogy, #1

By Dagmar Rokita

In a world torn apart by war, Charon Antares, a rebellion leader, finds himself at a crossroads as he a faces a heartbreaking choice. One bad decision may cost the lives of thousands of his beloved people.

 

Meanwhile, a young girl named Cerridwen seeks vengeance for a tragedy that has shattered her world. Without collaboration with the rebels, her assumed enemies, she will not be able to fulfil her plan.

 

As the rebels and the Union clash, a group of scientists secretly work on a weapon that could tip the balance of power.

 

With so many forces standing against each other, which one of them is right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dagmar Rokita
• Release date: Mar 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215765883

Dagmar Rokita

Dagmar Rokita is a Polish writer and an artist. She writes and illustrates dark sci-fi series called "Bloodstained Skies". There are two things that inspire her: imaginary world of geek culture and the deepest corners of human psychology. Huge doses of heavy metal and history documentaries are her creative fuel. She wants to become a famous artist because she needs money to buy sophisticated food for her cat. Mail: [e-mail]

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The echo of footsteps in the hallway was their only companion. Long, obscure corridors of the ArtEvo Company seemed endless. Several metres above, on the surface of the planet Ernef, nightlife bustled on for its common citizens. No one ever wondered what was located deep underneath their feet.

The first person halted in front of the wall with the control panel on it. He typed the access code, and the heavy doors opened with a scrunch. Accompanying him was a scientist who entered the room first. The sensors were activated by his movement, and an icy-white afterglow lit up the space ahead. They stood on the narrow metal balcony overlooking the small production hall.

Twenty exoskeletons rested on the brackets like the sleeping guardians of the forgotten overlord. Each of them was four metres tall and similar in posture to a crouching gargoyle. Their arms were thick, tapering to a three-claw grab. Massive, hydraulically supported armours for these exoskeletons were cast from coruscium, the most durable alloy ever invented. The machines held a rifle, too large and heavy for ordinary soldiers, but perfect for them.

Azhi and Inann in front of the exoskeleton

So, this is your secret weapon? asked the Celestian, crossing his arms. Bony features and subtle wrinkles on his slightly tanned face became more visible in the white glaring light. His large, dark blue eyes followed every step and gesture of the collaborator. His small, triangular ears stuck out from under his shiny, graphite hair. To avoid attention, he dressed like a common capital city dweller – in baggy trousers and a long coat with a hood.

Those are just the prototypes, replied the Ifrit, leaning from the railing. They look archaic, but I’ve added an improvement to them.

Despite the pale light, the pupils of his round, yellow eyes dilated. His amber skin was smooth, resembling a sandstone to the touch. Growing out of his cheekbones were tiny spikes that gave him the appearance of an ancient dragon with long, slightly curved horns. The Ifrit moved towards the spiral stairs. He ran down smoothly as if his stocky body was weightless.

Just don't touch anything, he warned, pointing a claw at the machine.

The Celestian joined him and looked around the hall. He leisurely walked closer to the massive, dark grey exoskeleton. He circled the machine, surveying every single part of it. He lifted his head to stare at the black lenses of the disproportionately small helmet.

There’s no difference between them and what I myself created twenty years ago, he argued.

I suppose... interposed the Ifrit. He dug around the pocket of his boiler suit and took out a reader. But you missed something.

The reptile turned on the device. He tapped the icon and displayed the holographic diagram of the complicated circuit. He took a deep breath to curb his enthusiasm so that his emotions did not get better of him.

The Ifrit resumed, So far, we were able to control their mechanism only through the operator’s mind, right? Nothing new about it. But when such a person refused to execute our orders, we lost control over the entire machine. We couldn’t stop it or make it do anything. We were totally dependent on the operator. He put the device right under the man’s nose. Do you see it?

The Celestian blinked and leaned his head back. What’s this? he asked, opening his eyes wider.

An implant, mandatory for everyone who wants to test the new generation of the exoskeletons.

And what does it do?

It allows us to transmit impulses into their brains, which would make the machines do certain actions as we want.

In silence, the Celestian glanced at the machine and the collaborator, considering the risk of losing his good name and high position. The Union was not favourable to his idea but would support him financially only if he withheld the majority of this new information.

The Ifrit broke the silence. So, what are we gonna do? He looked at them, standing beside the exoskeleton. Are we going to reveal it to the Union?

No way, the Celestian broke in. "If Felvennis discovers that we are going to continue the SynthBreed Project, he’ll run to the General

Committee and snitch on us."

Of course, Felvennis... the Ifrit muttered and sniffed loudly. I thought you’d bought off all your opponents.

For now, only the local committees so that they don't pry into the building and basic tests, but we have to relocate soon, anyway. I bought, nearly for free, a ruined temple complex on Irkheor. There we can work in peace; however, we should be careful with rebels. I cannot afford to provide proper security for us. I’ve made almost all the arrangements. All I need is to get rid of the rest of the opponents in today’s vote.

The Ifrit nodded. If the Union withdraws the financing, we’ll be in trouble.

I know. That’s why I’ll need your help if I can’t deal with Felvennis by myself.

You can depend on me, the reptile said, and his gaze rested on the speaker’s face.

The Celestian headed towards the stairs, and his employee followed him. They closed the gate behind them and returned to the main corridor. Right in front of the door, the Celestian halted. The Ifrit stood aside, making way for him.

Anything wrong? asked the Ifrit, after a while. He tilted his head, and his nostrils flared in anxiety.

Nothing. But don't you think all this is a bit... immoral?

The Ifrit narrowed his glow-in-the-dark eyes. He had known his employer for years now and had learnt to decipher his expressions. Choosing his words carefully, he put his thoughts in order and, after a while, said them aloud, Depends on whose perspective we look at. He sniffed and whispered, By controlling minds, we are breaking the laws of nature, but we’re not doing this only for ourselves. We stopped believing that the Union would provide safety for us and our families, so we took things in our own hands. We had to.

The Celestian nodded. Rebels feel unpunished. You’ve probably heard about the assault behind the Rhemaxos line. Now they venture deeper and deeper into our territories.

We must defend the Union, said the reptile, "even if we have to

pay a price like this."

The Celestian pulled his hood to keep his face covered and added, Keep your conscience clear. No one has the right to blame us for our will to save our loved ones.

They sneaked out the back door. The Ifrit waited until his employer walked away and then went in the opposite direction.

CHAPTER  1

Cerridwen Felvennis , a twenty-year-old Celestian girl, entered the shooting range. Dressed in a loose, sleeveless sweatsuit, she halted in the middle of the room. With training guns in both her hands and a virtual reality goggles and headphones, she was well prepared for the fight. Every single time, moments like these filled her veins with adrenaline. Her fingers shook slightly but more from excitement than nerves. Drops of sweat dripped down her well-toned arms. Cerridwen waited the three seconds before an inscription was displayed on the screen:

Simulation Launched

A green, three-dimensional grid on a black background appeared in front of her eyes. Cerridwen raised her weapons. She stood still for a moment to calm her mind and sharpen her senses. She could not afford even a second of distraction or loss of vigilance. Perhaps, one day, she would fight for her life with a real enemy and would have to make use of all her acquired skills. Hence, even during routine daily training, she felt as if she was balanced between life and death.

Somewhere in the background, a white dot flashed by and a low, barely audible, static resonated in her headphones. Cerridwen pulled the trigger, and the virtual bullet liquidated the target which turned red. The counter changed her score from zero to one.

Then came a moment of silence, which was written in the simulation in the assumption that it would distract the trainee, but Cerridwen was not deceived by that. Her eyes remained focused on the screen. Two targets appeared at the same time, one near her back and the other on her right. She crouched down. Taking a half-turn, she spread her arms and struck at both the dots. The longer break did not occur this time, and more targets started appearing on all sides. The girl shot them down one by one, sometimes leaping over or dodging them, always striking them down with precision.

The simulation stopped. Seeing the counter showing the number twelve made her smile at herself. She had been training like that every morning since she was four, so she decided that nothing would happen if she skipped one day. She was well prepared. She had other plans for today. She took off her goggles and put the guns aside on a metal rack. Breathing heavily, she released her long hair, which reached nearly up to her waist and reflected all shades of bronze. Her skin shone like a tanned sculpture. Her green eyes were large and striking, adrenaline had constricted the pupils to a pinpoint for better focus. Her heart raced as if she had sneaked out of death’s embrace. 

She entered the hallway. The light was switched on only in the living room, casting a yellow glow on the walls. She headed towards her room, but hearing loud  talks between two people, she stopped and listened.

Delian, Seth and Cerridewn

What's the deal this time? she whispered to herself, approaching the door.

Her father, Delian, sat at a table with his head propped on his hand. His dark hair was dishevelled, and his pale green eyes appeared like he had not slept for days. His sweatshirt was wrinkled with stains of energy drink sloshed on it. The Celestian’s days were filled with his duties, so he did not pay much attention to his appearance. Coming home from work at the ArtEvo Company, he just wore whatever was at hand.

You’re going out again? growled the second speaker, swinging his hand, right now, when I’m leaving?

Future of the Union and therefore the future of our planet depends on it. I can’t let the opposite party win this vote, said Delian. Maybe I’ll be able to meet you before you leave.

No, you won't, cut off Seth. He held a black jacket in his hand and strode around the room in a brisk manner. Even though he was only eleven months older than his adoptive sister, he was exactly opposite to her in appearance. His short, hazel hair was always set neatly, and his eyes were more of a darker shade than his sister’s vivid green, resembling the depths of the sea. Unfortunately, for Delian, both the siblings had a tenacious and combative nature.

The vote might stall a bit, but...

Do you even know when I’m going out? asked Seth, shrugging his shoulders.    Surely, you don't care. Hanging out in sessions and proceedings is more important for you.

Our future depends on it, Delian countered and gritted his teeth. He did not know how long he could hold on to his temper. He felt as if he was explaining to a little kid for the tenth time the meaning of the word no.

And mine depends on this. Seth leaned against the table and scowled at his adoptive father. I asked you for one thing which just needed you to stand and look, and even that was too much for you. He spread his arms apart in defeat. I guess if Cerridwen had asked for a glass of water from Eurydion, you would have rushed to please your daughter, am I not right?

Delian stood up in anger but he did not raise his voice. Don't cross your limits.

Seth crossed his arms instead, muttering, Well, at least Azhi cares about my successes.

Hearing this, Delian straightened up and lifted his head. Mention this corporate briber one more time and...

And what? Seth broke in and held his breath. He knew that he had gone too far. He was walking on wafer-thin ice, every word approaching Delian’s breaking point, but he regretted nothing.

Delian placed his hands on top of the table and continued in a calm but stern tone, I can’t agree to allow you to work for him.

But why not? You didn’t meet his expectations, but it doesn’t mean that I won't. He values me. He scowled at Delian. Unlike you, I’m sick of living with someone who points my mistakes all the time.

Delian lost the last remains of his patience. A wave of fury rushed through his bones. He had committed all his days to work in order to provide a decent life for his children. He pushed the chair back with a shrill rasp and walked towards Seth.

The thought flashed through his mind, did I waste twenty years of my life?

You don’t like it here? he shouted, then pointed to the door. No one is forcing you to live in my house. You can move away whenever you want if you can earn a living by yourself.

You’re damn right, I can! growled Seth. He wore his jacket and pulled on the hood, then left the flat, slamming the door behind him.

Cerridwen narrowed her eyes as irritation took over. Two of her closest family members were at it again. Every single time when she saw the rising tension between them, she wanted to leave home and forget how they accused each other of all their failures. Her father never let her go out unattended, so she had nothing better to do than be in her room and pretend everything was fine. But nothing really was.

Even though she tried, she could not understand Delian’s fixation with her safety. It was obsessive and claustrophobic. Instead of signing her up in a normal school, he home-schooled her. He taught her everything he knew, not only biology and mathematics but also self-defence and shooting. He always warned her that when he was gone, she would have to defend and save herself. Luckily, she did not mind the daily training. Guns had always been her passion so she felt she could improve on her shooting and thereby gain approval in Delian’s eyes.

Cerridwen moved her head from behind the door frame and peeked inside. Delian sat at the table, scanning the date on a rectangular, flat LiqBoard display with quick, anxious moves. The device buzzed with an incoming notification. Delian tapped on the icon with a trembling finger. He read the message and exhaled deeply.

Can I ask you something? Cerridwen slipped into the room.

Delian placed the device down, still glancing at its screen. He then rubbed his eyes and looked up at her. Sure.

Would you mind taking me to the new gallery opening? They have an exhibition of the most modern weaponry. She looked up at the ceiling and started naming them. Heavy Erlang Rifle, hybrid blasters and...

Not today, he interrupted her, I have to go for the voting. I cannot allow my opponents to come up with another ridiculous idea.

Politics, of course, grumbled Cerridwen. She rolled her eyes, but after weighing up all her arguments, she bent over the table to say in a conspiratorial tone. What about letting me go alone? This one and only time? She raised her hand as if taking a solemn oath and added, I will be careful and keep my eyes open even at the back of my head and avoid talking to strangers.

I can't agree.

Cerridwen had expected a similar reaction. She was soon losing hope that one day Delian would consider her an adult. Her every discussion about going outside ended with a long lecture from him about all kinds of threats and dangers.

Why not? She frowned in confusion and frustration. I’m not going to fly halfway across the galaxy. I just want to walk a few blocks away.

I’ve told you so many times. Delian sat up straight and folded his arms on his chest like an old, erudite professor. Where there is a crowd, there are robbers and rebel assassins. One careless second and you’re lost. Turn into the wrong street, and I’d look for you only with a dying hope that you’re still alive. He took a long look at his daughter. She aped his movement and crossed her arms too; her eyes wandered all around the living room.

Delian carried on, anyway, there have been riots on the streets for three days. The militia has blocked some districts on the islands.

Cerridwen almost came up with a counter-argument when Delian added, The discussion is over.

Well, in that case, she defied, shrugging, good luck.

Delian smiled gently, seeing the frustration fade away from his daughter’s face. He stood up, stretching his arms and back. He threw his stained sweatshirt on the sofa and put on a more fitting tailcoat. He picked his bag up and looked at his daughter. She watched him without annoyance, but her face had lost all her lively enthusiasm.

It’s all about your safety, he tried explaining once more.

Of course. It always is, sighed Cerridwen and averted her gaze. Just before Delian left the room, she reached out to him and hugged him with all her might.

Come back before breakfast. I’ll order Firefries.

Delian grimaced. I hate Firefries.

Good. More for me, she replied cheekily and giggled.

Delian had to grin back good-naturedly.

When Cerridwen finally heard the high-pitched sound of the door lock being pushed into place, she went back to her room. She had designed her private corner all by herself, using only her ideas. Dark blue walls contrasted with light grey furniture which were loaded with cheap electronic gadgets, some of them quite useless. A messy bed rested under the window overlooking the coastal capital city and the ocean. Growing on the roofs and terraces of skyscrapers, tropical flora resembled primeval forests on the limestone hills. White overlays of the buildings reflected the fading rays of the sun, leisurely setting behind the calm ocean waves. Vague shapes of the islands loomed far off in the horizon, and cargo ships sailed over the waters, heading towards the inland harbours.

Cerridwen dug into the pile of clothes lying on the bed and changed into grey sweatpants and a black hoodie. She clipped a small pack to her belt, combed her tousled hair to straightness, smoothing the errant strands. Brushing the dust from her sleeves, she left home and closed the door using the reader.

Taking the elevator down, she opened the map which was already uploaded to her LiqWatch. After a quick look at it, she walked out towards the indicated direction. As the chilly breeze touched her face, happiness rushed through her as she caught her first blast of real freedom.

Delian marched swiftly across the city, his head bowed down and hands deep in his pockets. Tons of pedestrians passed him by, hurrying to cheap entertainment venues to begin their boozy celebration of the two-day long break from work. Tropical trees and blooming shrubs grew along both sides of the Government Mansion Street, and flocks of colourful birds flapped their wings across the sky. Tiny animals made high-pitched screeching sounds which drowned out the noise of conversing people, whirring quadrotors and buzzing vehicles. Streamlined land machines moved at a steady pace, when suddenly one of them halted.

Hearing the alarm, Delian stopped and turned his head in that direction to observe the further course of events. He did not have to go near the place of the incident. Celestians had excellent vision and could distinguish the slightest details from a distance.

Not a single minute had passed before the other vehicles blocked up the street. A low, deafening alarm resounded throughout the area as an armoured vehicle with government logos backed out from behind the skyscraper. Near the chock-shaped machine, several members of the local militia were retreating in a tight group. Their helmets and vests were smeared with paint, grease and kerosene stains. When they got to the middle of the crossroad, a group of underground factory workers armed with metal bars and tools stormed out of the corner. With an unmatched fury on their faces, they hurled everything within reach at the law enforcement officers. Torn from the ground and smashed into pieces were concrete flowerpots, old tools, debris and everyday items that flew over the heads of the Union officers.

Move back, everyone! roared the distorted voice from the speaker of the vehicle, this is the last warning.

A Nelphian with smooth, pale celadon green skin darted in front of the bunch of crowded rioters. He was slimly built but over two metres tall. The spots on his voluminous, elliptical head changed