This Incursion was a battle against ti, in more ways than one.
“Magnos’ Rank increases with each Apocalypse counter on the board,” Wepwawet warned his allies. “Since you can place up to thirteen of them, he can likely reach the maximum Champion rank of 12 if given enough ti.”
“Gee, I wonder why he took out your Divine Avatar and my Buddha Zodiac Protector so early in the ga,” Sun Wukong said with rising annoyance. “I’ve t plenty of cheats in my mortal days, but that yellow bastard puts them all to sha.”
Epona grit her teeth. “Change of plans then. All units must focus on Magnos. We have to kill him before he becos unstoppable.”
“Agreed,” Wepwawet replied, relaying the orders to his Champions. As awful as the Pallid Mask might be, the risk of eventually dealing with a Champion roughly as strong as his own Divine Avatar was too great to ignore.
Epona’s Commander Ravness ran towards Magnos’ location while Jeanne and her chariot flew across the sky, while Filou’s group quickly abandoned the hunt for the Pallid Mask… but it was already too late.
Sun Wukong’s counter hit zero and heralded another change of terrain.
“Our turn begins, and Carcosa shall reshape itself,” Hastur announced.
The board shook and transford. Each of the three islands forming the city splintered into a triad of smaller chunks of haphazardly bound districts and street corners bound together by bridges. The gods’ Altars and their groundlocked troops were carried away by the shifting terrain to the very center of the board on a cubical plateau of bricks and stones. Hastur’s own effigies took over the westernmost, easternmost, and northernmost points of the islands, with his Panopticon pulsating on the latter. Only flyers were unaffected by the shift.
“Magnos is on the northern island and the Pallid Mask on the southern one,” Wepwawet said with a scowl. “My aerial troops are close to the forr, but there is no direct bridge linking the central island to the northern one. Our landbound troops will have to take a detour.”
There was, nonetheless, a silver lining to the situation. Hastur drew a card and received a mana surge, but though he received a whopping eleven mana, it still wasn’t enough. His Panopticon’s maintenance cost reduced that amount to six and left him with a ager twenty-three mana to cast Miracles with.
“He doesn’t have enough mana to reapply all his Doctrines,” Epona noted. “He’ll have to choose.”
Either he can try to recreate his discard-lockdown, or he can go all in with his Apocalypse strategy, Wepwawet thought. Considering the truth about Magnos’ ability is out of the bag now and that all our hands are more or less empty, I can guess which one he’ll pick.
Hastur’s next play quickly proved him right. “We play the Rank 10 Doctrine Extinction Notice, then we follow it up with the Rank 6 Ritual Repairer of Reputation. By discarding all the cards in our hand, we can draw two more cards for each one we’ve lost. We sacrifice Statent Ends, Ex Nihilo, and Mana Lotus.”
I knew it, Wepwawet thought. Discarding all those cards was a heavy price to pay—the re fact that he would sacrifice sothing like Mana Lotus, a forbidden card that would have given him three mana at basically no cost, was telling—but it let Hastur draw six new cards and rejuvenate his hand. A good half of his new draws are statistically likely to be Apocalypse Miracles. He’s going on an all-out offensive.
“Now that we have six cards, we play the mory Hole Rank 5 Doctrine,” Hastur said after checking his new hand. “This lets us remove as many cards from our discard pile as we want once per turn from the ga; and each such banished Miracle will grant us three mana.”
Sun Wukong imdiately tried to stop him. “I activate my Incoherent Tenets Prophecy to bounce your Extinction Notice back to your hand!”
“We negate and counter with our last Yellow Sign!” Hastur replied, his last Prophecy removing Sun Wukong’s own from the board. The King in Yellow glanced at the Rank 7 Prophecy Sun his enemy still had in play, and then chuckled when it failed to trigger. “We knew it. A desperate bluff.”
“Perhaps, but it cost you your last counter,” Sun Wukong pointed out.
It’s a double bluff, Wepwawet thought. Sun Wukong had already inford his teammates of what his last Prophecy could do earlier in a coded ssage, but he would likely only trigger it as a last resort. This might let us snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat, if he doesn’t ss up the timing.
“We now use mory Hole to remove the following cards from our discard pile: Mana Lotus, Repairer of Reputation, our third Yellow Sign, Apocalypse: The Dark Sun, Apocalypse: The Flesh Feast, and Apocalypse: The Scoured Desolation. This allows us to gain eighteen mana.”
Wepwawet scowled at this turn of events. Horus had warned them that Hastur’s Providence could allow him to randomly draw a card from his discard pile instead of his deck. The fact that he didn’t remove Statent Ends and Ex Nihilo from the ga ant he intended to eventually recover one of them next turn. Any pick would be bad, and reducing the number of cards in the discard ensured he could recover one of them.
At least Hastur was so low on mana that he had been forced to remove cards like Repairer of Reputation and Yellow Sign from his discard pile. Banishing Miracles from the ga let him reuse spent resources, but there was no ability that could bring them back. His mory Hole would eventually run out of fuel.
“With three Apocalypse counters on the field, Apocalypse Miracles now only cost seven mana,” Hastur declared. “We first cast Apocalypse: The Everhunt. This applies a curse on each unit, where all damage they suffer shall beco a critical hit.”
Phantom sigils akin to iron crowns floated above every single Champion on the Board, from Soumis to Epona’s intelligent chariot to Sun Wukong’s naga. Wepwawet’s well-trained and briefed troops imdiately reacted.
“Spread out!” Viviane shouted at the top of her lungs to her group, while Soumis and Sagesse began to fly farther apart from each other. “It’s the sign Lord Wepwawet briefed us about during the battle preparations! Hang on to your circlets!”
Imdiately realizing that Hastur was about to pull the exact sa combo that let him defeat Watatsumi, Wepwawet quickly confird his Champions’ worries. “Move away from each other! The rage is coming!”
A god shouldn’t pray, but in this mont Wepwawet hoped those protective circlets would prove to be worth their weight in gold. Sun Wukong’s ogres quickly sat in ditation next to their naga comrade, and Epona clenched her teeth in grim anticipation.
“With a fourth counter on the field, the cost of Apocalypse Miracle has been reduced to six, which lets us cast this: Apocalypse: The Risen Slaughter.” Hastur played his card with all of his eldritch malice. “All units on the board are now affected by the Berserk effect!”
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The fury ca in a red wave.
Filou sensed it in his head even though he and his gear had turned entirely intangible. The dark sky above their heads briefly turned crimson, and the very air gained the scent of blood. The sound of drums and pounding heartbeats shook the city of Carcosa to its foundations.
Then the pulse set his brain ablaze.
Filou couldn’t describe it any other way. An explosion erupted inside his intangible skull, followed by a maddening cacophony of screaming voices, strident explosions, and haunting screeches. It would have brought his knees to the ground if they didn’t float above it.
Everywhere around him, his allies scread and clutched their heads. So, like Viviane, rolled to the floor, whereas Grudu roared so loudly that half the city probably heard it, his feet shaking the ground in his tantrum. Mistouffe would have likely cald him down if she weren’t busy hissing like a rabid cat atop the weremammoth’s shoulders. Even Slimon was bouncing around the street without rhy or reason.
A single word would cut through the chaos overwhelming Filou’s mind.
Kill, kill, KILL!
He sensed the circlet on his head resonate with it, like a dam holding back a flood. Its intangible tal burned against his ectoplasmic forehead; those his fellow Champions wore had turned white hot from the pressure and cracked in so places. He could sense the coming mont when they would crack and snap to herald the call for a bloodbath.
But Verglane’s crafters did their work well.
The rush of madness proved as brief as it was instant. The crimson sky cleared in an instant, and the malevolent power suffusing the air with it. Filou’s mind was his own again, the concert of chaos inside his skull ending in sudden silence.
“Is… is everyone alright?” Filou inquired.
“Grudu…” the weremammoth replied while massaging his face. Mistouffe was drooling atop him, with phantom sigils still floating above the Champions’ heads.
“Yes…” Viviane breathed heavily, more stunned than hurt. “We are.”
A disaster had been averted.
Wepwawet allowed himself a breath of respite upon checking the board. The mind-protecting circlets had held against the Risen Slaughter Miracle, shielding his Champions from frenzy and preventing them from turning against each other. Sun Wukong’s troops remained deep in unperturbed ditation, and Epona’s soldiers had completely shrugged off the attack.
“None of your mortals turned on each other,” Hastur rasped in distaste. “How is that possible?”
“Disappointed?” Sun Wukong taunted him. “You get off on watching mortals tear each other apart, don’t you? Sorry to bananablock you then.”
“We call that counterasures,” Wepwawet replied. Besides his circlets, Ravness’ ability let her redirect harmful effects to her glaive, who, as a sentient construct, could shrug off the Berserk ailnt; Jeanne D’Arrow’s chariot shielded her from ailnts so long as she remained in contact with it; and the guided ditation of Sun Wukong’s naga Commander quelled the fury in his fellow Champions’ hearts.
They had all learned from Watatsumi’s defeat and prepared accordingly.
“None of your psychic tricks will work on us,” Epona bluffed. There were chinks in their protections to exploit, but pretending otherwise would hopefully dissuade the King in Yellow from trying his luck. “Our comrades gave their all so we could obtain information on your tactics, Hastur. We have inherited their will to defeat you.”
“You have inherited a legacy of defeat, young gods, and your efforts shall go for naught,” Hastur said. “The Everhunt’s mark shall linger until the battle’s end. We pay five mana to set down a Prophecy and end our turn.”
Epona squinted at his card. “That Prophecy he just played is almost certainly Apocalypse: The Web’s Conspiracy.”
“Yes,” Wepwawet concurred. Apocalypse: The Web’s Conspiracy was the only Prophecy of the series that allowed the player to play any Apocalypse Ritual directly from their deck once. “He’s likely to play The Buried Sky or The Stranger Among Us next.”
The first option would nail their fliers to the ground and reduce their mobility for the rest of the battle, while the latter would place a dangerous imposter into the Champions’ midst. Whatever result would also add more Apocalypse counters to the board, further reducing the cost of Hastur’s Miracles and increasing Magnos’ Rank to 8, the sa as the likes of Soumis or Insupportable.
“Chief?” Slimon called Wepwawet through telepathy. The crafter was busy checking on his allies and didn’t sound enthusiastic about his findings. “I’m not sure I should say this out loud in front of the others, and I’m not happy to admit it, but our circlets are done for. They won’t absorb another psychic attack like that last one.”
Wepwawet feared sothing like this would happen. It was already a marvel that they resisted a Titan’s Miracle. “Can they still work well enough to identify a potential impostor among our midst?”
Slimon was uneasily blunt. “No, they can’t.”
Damn it, that wasn’t good. They couldn’t risk Hastur learning of their weakness.
“I will relay the info to the others through telepathy so the enemy cannot overhear us. Do not discuss it in the open otherwise and pretend all is fine.” Wepwawet then turned his attention to Victoire, Soumis, and Sagesse. “Magnos has taken refuge at the Panopticon’s foot. Hunt him down.”
“We’ll reach it in a few minutes,” Victoire promised.
Wepwawet wished them luck. Another of Hastur’s options would be to cast Apocalypse: The Great Spiral, which would drive all units on the board to madness. He doubted the King in Yellow would try it so soon after his Risen Slaughter play failed, and Wepwawet hoped it would stay that way. His Champions’ only defense against it would be Hastur’s wrong assumptions.
“My turn,” Wepwawet said upon drawing and receiving three mana. He grinned upon seeing his pick, but checked the state of the board before activating it.
Victoire’s group was about to cross the moat of water separating their island from the one on which Magnos had taken refuge, with Epona’s flying chariot and its rider racing in the sa direction a little less than a mile back. All ground Champions had recovered from the Risen War and began to move–
Wait.
Wepwawet stared in surprise at the board upon seeing that Sun Wukong’s Champions had finally left their patron’s Altar to travel across the city. However, it seed they were going in the entirely wrong direction.
“Why are they traveling east?” Wepwawet asked Sun Wukong. “Magnos is in the north and the Pallid Mask in the south.”
“How should I know?” Sun Wukong replied with a shrug. “I didn’t order them to move that way.”
That shocked Epona more than it did Wepwawet, though they both asked the sa thing at the sa ti: “What?!”
“I don’t give my Champions orders. I simply keep them inford of the situation and trust them to make decisions on their own.” Sun chuckled. “I have no more idea what they’re planning than you do!”
What kind of strategy was that? Was that another bluff to take Hastur aback? Or a joke? Wepwawet didn’t think Sun Wukong would act so lightly in this situation, but the Monkey King’s thoughts could be so elusive sotis.
Whatever the case, if Sun Wukong trusted his Champions to act on their own, then he had to extend them the sa faith.
“I will now play my Dinsional Fortress Rank 8 Doctrine,” Wepwawet announced upon casting his newly drawn card. “This negates all teleportation effects that I do not allow within my Influence.”
Most importantly, it would prevent the likes of the Pallid Mask or Magnos from teleporting away should any of his Champions get into close contact with them. No more last-minute escapes.
The prospect clearly unnerved Hastur, because he imdiately triggered his set Prophecy in response. “We activate our Apocalypse: The Web’s Conspiracy. This brings our clock one counter closer to the hour of your demise, and lets us cast any Apocalypse Miracle from our deck without paying the cost.”
Here it cos, Wepwawet thought, bracing himself for impact. Don’t pick The Great Spiral, don’t pick The Great Spiral…
“We pick Apocalypse: The Buried Sky! All units on the board are brought down to earth and suffer the Anchored effect, preventing flight!”
Almost there, Victoire thought. The great Panopticon tower faced her in the distance, the vile Titan’s Altar standing atop it like a statue on a throne. So of the building’s green eyes looked at her with alien disinterest. You failed. We’re still here.
She had thought her last hour had co when the sky turned red and Soumis began thrashing beneath her. The Crown of Valentine had shielded her mind better than the circlet her dragon wore like a ring around his claw, but it ant she had been forced to hang onto Soumis’ reins until he cald down.
This storm had passed, and they would weather the next one too. Victoire couldn’t see Magnos yet, but she knew it was only a matter of ti until they managed to catch up to their quarry.
They had been crossing the water moat separating them from the Panopticon’s island when Victoire began to feel pressure building on her back, like sothing invisible pushing on her shoulders.
“Victoire,” Sagesse said a few ters away from them. “I detect a gravitational anomaly of so kind.”
Soumis looked up. “Soumis is feeling heavy all of a sudd–”
Then they fell.
There was no warning, no slow escalation. A powerful force suddenly pushed them all to the ground like flies swatted back to earth, with Soumis and Sagesse uttering cries of surprise when the very air refused to support them.
They plumted towards the black, poisoned waters below.
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