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Consequences of My Actions

Chapter 20

The harsh sunlight bore down on the ruined landscape around him.

He spun in place, confused. Wasn’t he just in bed, wrapped in Daniella’s grasp? Where the hell was he—and why was the sand so pale and hard?

His armoured boots clanged against the sandstone. Gnarled, withered trees jutted from the earth like skeletal fingers.

His heart sank as his gaze found the distant mountains. No snowcaps.

Oh no…

His HUD dimmed automatically as he looked up at the sun. It was bright—too bright. Heatwaves danced above the dunes beyond. The star overhead was a sickly yellowish-white, not the soft orange he remembered. Earth’s atmosphere used to shift the light’s hue. This... this wasn’t right.

“Sir, I am still unable to reestablish connection to ShadowCorp servers… They may have won after all.”

A red alert blinked in the corner of his HUD:

Do not remove helmet — possibly hazardous atmosphere. Earth’s air may be toxic over time, reducing combat efficiency and increasing risk of unconsciousness.

Conner wandered for what felt like hours. Nothing but scorched sand, rock, and decay. A wasteland. Lifeless. The little flora that remained was either withered or grotesquely mutated beyond recognition—and just as dead.

He stopped in front of a wide cave mouth. His Tek suit’s flood lights activated, revealing a cavern littered with hundreds—maybe thousands—of bones. Human skulls. Dragon skulls.

A deep growl rumbled from within.

Two glowing dark violet eyes blinked open in the dark. Footsteps. Heavy. Closer.

Conner stepped back, jaw dropping as the thing came into view.

A grotesque monstrosity, covered in pulsing, dark-purple gashes and bulging veins. It looked like a twisted version of a Corrupted Reaper King from ARK—only worse. More savage. More broken. Whatever it had once been… was gone.

Its eyes were full of nothing but pain, rage, and madness.

It roared—an agonized, garbled screech that clawed at his mind.

Conner snarled as his suit hissed, breaking its seal. Oily black smoke coiled from his nostrils as his body shifted and expanded.

He slammed his hands into the ground, returning the roar with one of his own.

Something ancient. Something draconic.

The Earth trembled.

Cracks split the ground. The corrupted beast wailed, blood spraying from its ears—right before it reached him.

They clashed.

…

Conner shot up with a gasp.

The roar still echoed in his skull.

It was familiar. Not just in sound—a fusion between King Ghidorah, an Acrocanthosaurus from ARK, and the Indominus Rex—but something deeper.

Before Daniella could speak, Conner was already out the balcony door, knocking over a forgotten bottle of lube as he vaulted the railing.

His Tek suit locked into place around him mid-air.

His phone buzzed instantly.

“What the hell was that?” Daniella snapped over the line.

“Sorry! Had a vivid dream—and remembered something!” Conner shot back as he streaked across the sky.

“Please do not do anything stupid!” Daniella barked.

“Cave. BC.”

The line went dead.

---

The thrusters flared as he dropped from the sky, plunging into the river at the foot of the mountain—the same mountain he'd carved a home into, God knows how long ago.

He practically sprinted up the slope, eyes locked on the cave mouth as he charged inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Where is it?” Conner groaned, scanning the stone wall. The Soullock rune had to be here somewhere.

He exhaled sharply and retracted his gauntlet, hovering his hand just above the rock. A faint glow gave it away. He pressed his palm to the rune and slipped through the widening gap the instant it opened.

Tearing down the tunnel, he gritted his teeth as it stretched on longer than it should have.

“Oh, God fucking dammit—not again!”

He groaned and shouted the humiliating password. The tunnel shifted, then opened up into the main living area. He sprinted down the hall towards the garage-hangar. He jogged in, skidding to a stop just before colliding with the sleek nose of his SR-71.

“Computer, scan for any hidden chambers,” Conner said, brushing his bare hand along the walls. “It has to be around here somewhere.”

A section of wall trembled. His Geiger counter shrieked. Searing heat bit into his hand before his gauntlet slammed back over it.

“Radiation dose… minimal. No side effects will occur,” the AI stated calmly.

“That’s not ominous at all,” Conner muttered.

The wall slid open, revealing a hidden room. He stepped inside—and froze.

The entire chamber was filled with raw Element ore. Violet crystals jutted from massive, decaying bones strewn across the floor.

His breath caught.

“…This is where raw Element comes from,” he whispered. “The corpse of a dead Elemental…”

He trailed off, horror dawning on his face.

“What we found at Dig Site Sixteen,” the AI said, finishing the thought, “was likely a mass burial of Elemental beings.”

“But that doesn’t explain the antimatter,” Conner muttered.

“Possibly unstable mana attaching itself to physical elements—like carbon,” the AI replied. “Or perhaps… a physical manifestation of rage.”

“Not far-fetched. Entirely possible,” Conner said, dragging his hand down his faceplate with a sigh. “Could explain a lot…”

He turned as something glinted on the floor. A massive pitch black scale, easily bigger than the dinner plates he had at home. He picked it up, eyes scanning toward the back of the chamber.

That’s when he saw it.

The scattered vertebrae led to a colossal dragon skull. Faint quills and horn fragments lined its vertex or crown, making it look almost… regal.

“Analyzing skeleton… according to available data, I estimate this dragon to have been no shorter than seventy feet with a wingspan of at least two-hundred.”

Conner didn’t make a sound, the answer not surprising him. He crouched down as he spotted a gigantic tooth that had broken free—an upper canine. Hollow. Inside, a sickly yellow-green liquid sloshed around.

“Computer?”

“Already analyzing.”

He poured a bit into the palm of his gauntlet. The venom vanished on contact.

“Sample collected. Venom potency: extreme.”

“Extreme how?”

“It’s not just venom. It’s acidic. Chemically corrosive—fifty times stronger than hydrochloric acid and ten times deadlier than Inland Taipan venom.”

“…That’s fucking terrifying.”

“This was your body once, wasn’t it?” the AI asked suspiciously.

Conner said nothing.

He approached the skull slowly. As he neared, veins of violet light swirled across the surface. Energy crackled between the horns. His right gauntlet retracted.

“This is why I can’t shapeshift,” he murmured. “Why I feel so limited… I used the corpse to store my real power. Until I learned better control.”

“And I’d argue you’re still not ready,” the AI said sharply. “You lack the discipline.”

But Conner wasn’t listening.

Despite the searing pain, he pressed his bare hand to the skull.

The surge was instant—fire under his skin, agony in every nerve. He tried to pull away, but couldn’t. The skull’s glow intensified. The room shook. The energy roared—

—and a blinding flash launched him backward into the wall.

He hit the ground hard, body heaving, head pounding. His hand felt like it had been dunked in molten metal. His gauntlet snapped back over it with a hiss.

“No adverse effects,” the AI said after a pause. “But your magical stamina has increased significantly.”

“Jesus…” Conner groaned, dragging himself upright. His whole body ached—but the pain was fading… rapidly.

“Why now?” the AI asked, exasperated.

“Because if something happens to Daniella while we’re deployed—I need insurance,” Conner growled, stepping out of the chamber.

“According to the library archive… the last recorded Berserk incident occurred when your Bonded nearly died. Thousands dead. Seven allies nearly killed. Do you need the full report?”

“No,” Conner snapped. “I remember. But this—joining the military—is the only real way I see to fight corruption. To reshape Canada into something better. And modern training won’t hurt either.”

The AI sighed in defeat, not willing to argue. “…Fair enough.”

“So,” the AI said, pointedly, “should we return home so you can actually sit down for a meal with your mate?”

“I—, yeah maybe that’s a good idea,” Conner sighed.

The AI chuckled. He had finally listened.

And once Conner had exited the cave. He launched into the sky.

---

“Well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions…” Conner muttered with a sigh as warning alarms flared inside his helmet.

“That was fast,” he added with a chuckle.

“How the fuck are you so nonchalant about a radar lock from an intercontinental ballistic missile!?” the AI snapped, clearly panicking.

“Oh well.”

“You are unbelievable…” the AI grumbled.

“So I’ve heard.” Conner grinned and casually rolled right as a missile screamed past him in a white-hot blur.

“I guess the radar-absorbing paint degraded?” he asked, frowning as he tracked the missile trying to arc back toward him.

“No, jackass—you’re flying at Mach twenty with fusion thrusters hot enough to cook a small city. They didn’t track you, they tracked your trail.”

“Fuck.” Conner groaned.

“Not a regular ICBM, Conner! This thing’s actively pursuing! It turned around!”

Conner sighed, voice darkening. “Alright, America… you wanna play this game?” He banked sharply, locking on to the nuclear warhead. “Then I’ll fucking play!”

His thrusters flared a violent violet, his speed roaring past Mach thirty in seconds.

“Conner! What the fu—”

BOOM!

A chain of sonic cracks shattered the sky as debris rained down over the continent.

…

Conner hovered in the stratosphere, brushing sizzling fragments from his shoulder.

“Should I just go full Omni-Man on this planet or what?” he sneered.

Then the universe chuckled at him.

His AI tried to speak, but the voice fizzled out—static flooding his ears.

The hum of the Tek suit’s powercore was drowned out… by something far louder.

“Ah, shit.”

A beam of light lanced down from orbit.

And Conner dropped like a rock as his powercore failed.

“How fitting…” he muttered as he plummeted.

“Just when I thought I was unstoppable… I get fucking humbled.”

He should’ve been terrified—falling from nearly fifty thousand feet. But he’d long since lost his fear of heights… And now, he was paying the price for his reckless stupidity.

Falling in silence… completely blind.

Fully accepting his fate.

A loud hum filled his ears as his HUD flickered back to life. A low power alert flashed across his vision just as the thrusters caught his fall.

“Critical power failure… speed limited to Mach Two.”

“Oh of fucking course!” Conner groaned, radar pinging two mosquito-sized blips closing in fast. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

“System Alert… Powercore: Destabilized!”

A wave of dread punched the breath from his lungs. His heart dropped like lead.

“No… no-no-no-no-NO!”

He turned his gaze skyward, every instinct screaming the same desperate command: Get it away from Earth. Punch it into deep space. Die alone if you have to.

He braced to launch—then froze.

Mach two.

That was all he had.

His chest tightened. There was no chance. He wouldn't even break orbit. Not before it went supercritical.

And if that happened…

…The entire solar system would be atomized.

His mind raced as he ignored the two approaching objects, the radar cross section alone told him what they were.

“Computer! Find that fucking satillite.”

He needed to keep purging energy from the core until the AI could re-stabilize the plasma, it wasn’t storing energy properly.

“Satellite: Located… Plasma Cannon One… coming online!”

His HUD pinged the location of the satellite that hit him as the powercore hummed. A barrel took shape on the back of his right arm. Energy thrummed through the armour as the LED lights began blinking faster and faster.

He raised his arm level with the direction of the DEW and fired.

A bright beam of pure plasma ripped through the sky. Streaking angrily into space. The roar from the shot echoing across the planet.

“Energy Purge: Successful. Opening Thruster Wastegates!”

The flame from his thrusters flared brighter—pale blue, nearly white.

…

FL230, Airspace over Montana

Callsign: Reaper One

Pilot: Captain Miles "Jett" Donnelly

Aircraft: F-22A Raptor

“Reaper One, Reaper Two, continue vector zero-nine-five. Confirm visual on anomalous aerial contact.”

Jett squinted through his visor, adjusting his HUD brightness. "Reaper One copies. Still nothing on visuals, Command. RCS barely registers. All I’ve got is thermal and that... that sure as hell isn’t normal."

He glanced down at the blip—small, fast, weaving erratically. At this altitude, anything giving off that much heat without combusting air molecules wasn’t running on jet fuel.

“Roger, Reaper One. New tasking from NORAD: You are to intercept and attempt visual ID. Rules of Engagement remain strict non-lethal unless fired upon. Do not provoke.”

Jett snorted. Non-lethal. That’s cute. He keyed his mic. “Reaper Two, you seeing this plume?”

“Affirm. Looks like someone lit a welding torch to the sky. Blue flame, high angle of attack. Ain’t no drone, that’s for damn sure.”

Then came the flash.

The sky screamed.

A blinding beam of plasma roared from the center of the radar contact—lancing skyward with a thunder-crack that made Jett’s teeth chatter even inside his pressurized helmet.

“Jesus Christ! Reaper One to Command, be advised—unknown contact just engaged a satellite with some kind of energy weapon. Confirm? That was a satellite, right?”

“Confirmed. Satellite loss registered. Command designates contact as Hostile Entity One.”

Jett’s eyes widened. “Did you say ‘hostile’? We’re cleared to engage?”

“Affirmative. Contain and disable. Repeat—disable only. We want it alive.”

“Roger that.”

Below, the blue flame flared hotter—almost neon now, baby blue and nearly white at the core. The thermal spike maxed out the sensors for a full second.

“What the hell is this guy flying?”

Before Reaper Two could answer, a ripple rolled off the contact. Not heat. Not plasma. Something else.

A pulse.

His HUD crackled with static.

“Reaper One to Reaper Two, systems check—do you copy?”

No response.

He twisted in his seat, heart skipping. The second Raptor was venting smoke, nose dipping hard. No explosion—no flames—but the lights were out. Dead stick.

EMP? That son of a bitch—

“Command, Reaper Two is hit. Possible directed EMP! Reaper Two is unable to eject—repeat, unable to eject!”

But then, through the smoky haze, he saw it.

A figure—no, a man in black armour—streaked toward Reaper Two’s dying jet. Jett watched in disbelief as the Hostile punched through the canopy, tearing it open before pulling Reaper Two from the cockpit, and manually triggered his chute.

Reaper Two vanished into the blue as the Hostile lept from the disabled F-22.

The bastard hadn't killed him.

He’d saved him.

Then, the blur dropped altitude.

“Reaper One to Command—confirm ID. This matches the guy who took out the DPRK’s leadership. You’re telling me I’m engaging Blackout?”

“Confirmed. Do not refuse the objective. That would be considered dereliction of duty, Captain.”

Jett exhaled sharply.

“Of course.”

He throttled forward, afterburners flaring, but—this thing wasn’t fast, it was slippery. Something was off with the movements. He had heard of Blackout, something was making him behave so evasively, rather than just speeding away.

“Command, I’m engaging. Pursuing Hostile Entity One. I can keep up on speed—Mach Two—but I can’t match his turns. Requesting AWACS support.”

“Negative, Reaper One. AWACS rerouted. You're alone up there.”

Of course he was.

Jett grit his teeth and dropped altitude, chasing the ghost trail of pale blue flame that danced like lightning over the clouds.

“Hostile is evading—still not firing back. Wait, scratch that—he’s slowing down?”

His HUD flickered again, recalibrating sensors.

Was this a stall? A mistake? An opening?

“Guns, guns, guns!” Jett barked.

He pulled the trigger—20mm cannon rounds screamed through the sky. A few connected. Sparks lit across black armour.

Then the sky changed.

Every warning light in his cockpit lit up.

“What the—”

The contact stopped.

Midair.

Stopped dead.

Then vanished.

Jett blinked—“Where the f—”

CRUNCH.

A sound like steel screaming filled his ears as the entire frame of the Raptor bucked. Something massive hit him from behind. He was lifted—the wings groaning under unnatural pressure.

“Mayday! I’m—!”

His words died in his throat as a shadow fell across the canopy.

He turned around.

Massive, draconic black paws gripped the wings like the plane was merely a toy. Muscles rippled beneath scales of pure darkness. This… thing blotted out the sun as it unfurled its colossal black wings. Violet light pulsing through visible veins.

Panic surged through him as he locked eyes with it. Massive bright red orbs, practically glowing.

Then something beeped inside, the cockpit hissed as it opened.

“No—no-no-n—!”

Plucked from the cockpit, harness tearing as razor sharp talons sliced the material like butter.

His vision blurred, weightlessness. The cold bite of frigid air struck him to the core.

He caught another glimpse, massive wings, horned head—almost regal, and a long tail spiked at the tip.

A creature of pure black…

…Like it had been taken straight from an ancient myth he had heard of before.

Then it roared…

The very clouds themselves parted and dissipated as his helmet’s visor shattered. His ears began to ring—sharp and painful.

His entire body seized as he shuddered with true, primal fear.

Then—gone.

The dragon dissolved. Swirling tendrils of shadow seeped into the cockpit just before the canopy closed.

His F-22 surged forward—engines roaring to life.

A second later, the fighter broke the sound barrier.

A sonic boom shattered the sky.

Then radar cut out.

The last recorded speed of Reaper One’s Raptor before the signal vanished?

Mach 15.

---

“Powercore… energy: Low. Plasma depleting.”

“Computer, drones—on this thing now!” Conner barked, barely holding himself together as every limb in his body trembled with adrenaline.

“What shall I do with it?”

“Strip the tracking systems… and remember that hypothetical I told you about?”

“If you ever got your hands on an F-22, yes.”

“Okay, good. Do that.”

He leapt from the open cockpit, letting himself fall. The aerial drones were already on the jet before he even hit the dirt—face first.

“Powercore energy: Critical… system failure imminent.”

Conner exhaled slowly, burying his emotions as the HUD flickered once… and then went dark.

The silence dragged on. Then finally—hiss—his faceplate slid open.

He gasped, drawing in fresh air as his armour’s power assist failed. The chest plates shifted with a sluggish groan, and the depleted powercore tumbled free.

He stared at it for a long moment.

All it had taken… was a goddamn Directed Energy Weapon from a satellite to nearly kill him.

Heat pulsed in his chest as he snatched the puck-sized powercore off the ground. His eyes lit with violet energy as he hurled it into the trees. A distant thunk echoed, then silence.

And then—his legs gave out. Adrenaline fading. His body crashing.

Just before he lost consciousness, he heard the back door slide open. Then the thunder of heavy, four-legged footfalls.

“Oh my God! What happened?” Daniella’s face appeared above him, eyes wide with panic.

“You and Death were right… my global ultimatum was stupid,” Conner groaned.

Daniella scoffed, not having it. “Conner! Tell me what happened!”

“My Tek suit needs a new powercore…” he muttered, trying to push himself up.

The armour dragged at him. Five hundred pounds of hypertech plating. No sweat when powered, but a dead weight now. The Element-Antimatter infusion could only counter gravity so much.

Then—he was slammed back down. Pinned. Something heavy settled on his legs, claws gripping his wrists.

He groaned, eyes opening with a sigh.

“What. Happened!” Daniella snarled, a deep growl rumbling in her chest.

Before he could even begin to answer, a sleek earpiece materialized in her ear.

Her wings snapped open.

“Computer—don’t you—” he started, but it was too late.

She launched skyward, a cloud of dust swirling behind her.

“COMPUTER! I swear to GOD!”

“Sorry, sir… deploying Prototype.”

Conner’s jaw dropped as something large rocketed from the forest behind their home. A metallic blur caught up to Daniella in the sky and latched onto her body with precision.

BOOM. The shockwave hit. Conner was knocked clean off his feet.

He slammed a fist into the dirt. “Computer! I swear, I will wipe your primary code from my fucking system!”

Silence.

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, you did not just go silent on me.”

The heat inside him surged. A faint wisp of smoke curled from his nose.

He was stuck. Buried inside a suit built to withstand Mach 40 wind speeds and, in theory, the surface temperature of the sun. Not even a cutting torch would get through it.

He was very stuck.

“You gave her access to the Prototype,” he said quietly. “And told her what happened.”

His voice dropped, low and cold.

“If anything happens to her… you’re gone.”

The AI stayed silent.

Conner turned and stormed inside, every step weighed down by rage and dead armour.

…

He silently thanked himself for upgrading the Elemental Fabricator.

All that testing with the Mark One Powercore—all the failures, the near-meltdown, the near-death experiences—had taught him plenty. Too much.

Now, he stood inside, unable to stay still. Pacing. Clenching and unclenching his fists as anxiety twisted in his gut. Fear for Daniella's safety made the seconds drag like hours.

The fabricator was taking longer than he liked.

He hoped the calculations were correct. Because if they were…

The Mark Two Powercore would be insane.

The Mark One had held the power of a supernova.

This one—if it worked—would hold the power of a hypernova.

---

“No, I disagree,” Daniella said, voice firm and unwavering. “Your concerns may have valid ground, but I can assure you—he has the planet and its people’s best interests at heart.”

“Ma’am… he threatened the entire planet.”

“Because he understands what a nuclear war would do!” Daniella snarled, her voice rising to match the government agent’s tone.

“He admitted it was reckless, but even you have to admit—North Korea was a serious threat to— …well everyone.”

The agent sighed, folding his arms. “He still issued a global ultimatum… and destroyed the Orion Satellite.”

Daniella closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. “Because you nearly killed him. That strike sent his armour’s power source into a supercritical state.”

“That satellite cost—”

“I don’t care what it cost,” Daniella cut him off, voice cold. “That powercore alone was worth trillions and if it had detonated, it wouldn’t have just wiped out a city. It would've atomized the entire solar system.”

She stood, snout barely peeking through the darkness. “I agreed to talk, not to be interrogated or held. I can keep him under paw when I’m with him. But if you try to keep me here…” Her voice dropped, icy. “May God save you all.”

“So… if we let you go, you can keep him under control?” the agent asked, his voice suddenly uncertain.

“You can let me go willingly. Or I force my way out. Or Blackout comes here himself to get me.” Her smirk was just barely visible. “And that is not the option you want.”

“And his identity?” the agent asked warily.

“You won’t know it. You won’t see his face. Neither of us will ever be on record,” she said with a growl. “But I will say this: there’s already a company prepared to go public. One that could provide America with advanced weapons and valuable resources.”

“Elaborate?”

“We’re negotiating contracts with our own government. If things go well, the U.S. could benefit enormously from what my mate has already built—and what’s still in development.”

“…Your mate?” the agent asked, raising a brow. “Is Blackout a dragon?”

Daniella chuckled. “He’s very human. Just… magically gifted.”

“Magic doesn’t exist,” the agent scoffed.

The lights dimmed. Every object in the room lifted off the floor—including the agent himself.

“It does,” Daniella said smoothly, veiled in shadows. “And you know it.”

“I—you must be mi—”

The door slammed open, nearly tearing from the hinges.

Blackout stormed in, FN SCAR-17 locked and ready. His eyes swept the room, finger just shy of the trigger.

Then he paused.

“…Wait. You’re… negotiating?” he asked, confused.

“I was,” Daniella snapped, clearly exasperated. The floating objects settled gently to the ground.

Conner lowered his weapon, mumbling. “I mean, I thought this was a rescue…”

“For now,” Daniella said with a heavy sigh, “we’ll agree to cover the Orion Satellite’s cost, the Two F-22s and any other damage that occurred here…. We will resume contract talks later.”

“I’m not paying for the satellite that almost killed me,” Conner said, scowling under his helmet.

Daniella’s tail slammed into the floor with a thunderous crack, the flooring shattered from the impact. “You are not a diplomat,” she growled, eyes burning. “I make the deals. You shut up and suck it up.” She shoved him out the door. Her helmet locked in place with a metallic hiss.

The scene in the hall wasn’t quite what she expected.

Wrecked weapons lined the corridor. Scorch marks. Bent barrels. No bodies—just groaning security personnel, some unconscious but breathing.

“What the hell did you do?” Daniella groaned, rubbing her forehead with a wing knuckle.

“I just walked in,” Conner said with a shrug. “If someone shot at me or refused to move, I just… moved them. Or broke their guns.”

He glanced up, straight into the security camera overhead as they passed. Expression unreadable behind his helmet.

She sighed and bonked him on the head with her wing knuckle.

…

A little later, behind closed doors…

“Well… what do we do about them?” a voice asked.

“The presidential race is nearly over and Election season is just beginning in Canada. Let that play out. He’s Canadian, after all. If he strikes a deal with his own government…” A pause. “There’s potential.”

“You really think the pros outweigh the cons?”

“I didn’t say that. I said I see potential. They’re smart. And what they’re building?”

A breath.

“It could change everything.”

“…He’s still a massive risk.”

“They were true to their words… all damages done have been reimbursed…”

“—And I think it’s too dangerous to make him an enemy. Fastest speed we clocked him at was Mach forty-two point three.”

“Something capable of that without tearing itself apart…”

“…Exactly. And what’s worse—he reached the moon from Earth in under two minutes. Slowed down before touchdown. Which means…”

“He could’ve gone even faster.”

Silence.

The weight of that truth lingered like a shadow in the room.

“In the meantime, we continue working on ways to possibly stop him… but! Main priority is peaceful negotiations.”