December, 1980 (New Year’s Eve) – Waning New
The pack lurked at the edges of Omnicron‘s dig site until nightfall, watching the patrols of humans pass in armor and weaponry that matched that of the sniper they’d felled back in Kroder’s Pass. After the last light of day faded and the pattern of the patrols were clear, it was decided that the pack would assault the odd antennae that seemed to be placed upside-down, receiving signal from the earth rather than the skies.
Splitting into groups, Waffles and Nico took one antenna while Jules and Timone struck the second. On her own, Cleo crept into the camp proper, taking stock of those strange guards occupying the offices and mess hall. All was silent until Cleo found herself an unlocked semi truck on the premises, using the bellowing horn as both a distraction and a signal. The pack struck as one.
Two antennae fell almost instantly, though Jules and Timone found themselves doing battle with soldiers armed with silver and odd deformities much like the Fomori they’d slain back at the gas station. Nico and Waffles used the battle to cover their path to the third antenna, sending it toppling while Cleo began driving her truck THROUGH the soldiers’ shoddy barracks and mess hall. When she came under assault from the survivors, she simply turned the truck to barrel them over and send the whole affair crashing down into the excavated pit in the center. She attempted to leap free at the last moment, but momentum carried her down with the rest, forcing her into Crinos to survive the fall and resulting explosion.
The pack reconvened at the far side of the dig, using their combined strengths to tear down the last standing structure: the massive crane meant to either pull something from the earth or lower it down. There was a brief exchange of furious stares when the pack of Black Spirals that had been sent to oversee the dig returned, led by a powerfully muscled and remarkably tall woman. Rather than assaulting the young pack, she merely smirked and ordered the others back into their truck, driving off rapidly.
The reason became clear when a deafening screech burst forth from the earth, followed by a materialized Nexus Crawler. The pack could only stare in horror as it waved an appendage toward them, freezing the blood in their veins before almost nonchalantly turning it to molten silver. The cubs seemed to die in agony, and all without the strength to fight back.
But the pack did NOT die, or at least not entirely. The Crawler had merely shoved them into the tiny little pocket of Umbra that served as the Narlthus’ prison for all these thousands of years. It appeared as a floating disk of obsidian in an endless black, occupied by a freakish and towering beast almost akin to a dragon and a smaller, unobtrusive figure appearing to flicker in and out of reality. A tall man with a long coat and wide-brimmed hat that didn’t even seem to be watching.
“Serve me,” it demanded.
“No!” bellowed the pack as one. They attacked the talon of the Wyrm, which merely cackled at the futility before Nico managed to pierce its hide with a single claw. This tiny affront infuriated the creature, which effortlessly swept them from the platform to tumble through that unending darkness.
“You WILL serve me,” it promised as they fell, only to jerk back into wakefulness as they returned to their bodies in bloodied snow. A glorious and terrible battle was unfolding around them, as the same Sept of Wendigo that had originally banished them now flung themselves at the Nexus Crawler. Many were dead or dying, yet still they crashed against the abomination like a flood against the shore. Even Icedagger and his pack fought there, despite angered and shamed glances toward the young pack that had warned them about this very place.
The cubs were roused by a Wendigo woman named Kreeyaah, though she was not of this local Sept. She explained she had been beseeched by the Sept of the Green in New York to visit her tribe-mates here in the Sept of the Winter Wolf in an attempt to find the cubs. She admitted she hadn’t expected to find them quite so occupied. Helping them to their feet, she offered them the chance to limp away from the battlefield, having already done more than their part. They refused, instead joining the fray and howling victoriously when the creature was finally felled.
Time to return home, to New York, with the fireworks of the New Year heralding them like heroes.