Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

A giant advanced vehicle rumbled down the mountain roads, pumping purple fumes out of its gargoyle mouth-shaped exhaust pipes.

The crest of the World’s Kingdom was engraved in its side; a shield with a brave castle spire standing in its center.

Inside the vehicle was designed to transport high-value detainees without stripping them of every dignity. It was mostly made of dark steel, but warm due to the long strip of molt that ran the length of the floor.

Two long benches faced each other across the compartment, upholstered in deep crimson velvet that had seen better days but remained regal.

Lancet and his Heroines sat on one side, and on the opposite sat four Brigadiers in full gear, their Graceblasters resting across their knees, their expressions carefully neutral. Flanking them, the four Awakeners who had met them outside Deathrock’s gates.

Apart from the engine’s hum and the occasional crackle of a Brigadier’s radio, it was mostly quiet.

Astensia sat with her back straight, her bound hands resting in her lap. She had a dutiful expression on her face. To her, what they were about to do was as important as the day she held that Gate.

She took this very seriously.

Thor sat beside her, and her silence was of a different breed entirely. She looked a bit irritated that she was being transported in this construct.

Kestrel sat with one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. As usual, her expression was calm and serene, but she kept eyeing the Awakener with the giant sword.

After this, she was going to demand a duel with him.

Espel sat at the end of the bench, her hands folded in her lap. She was already regretting getting dragged into this. But maybe, after this she would ask Lancet to repay her with sex. There was still more she had to... learn, Espel thought.

Spectra sat looking down, saying nothing. She was clearly lost in her thoughts.

Lancet had been staring at the Awakeners who had arrested them, not knowing he was grinning.

”What you smiling at, kid?” the one with the ice-chip eyes said.

Lancet leaned forward slightly. ”I know you guys. You’re Malakai Stayntlet. 5 Star Platinum Berserker. You once tore a Demon Head into two with your bare hands.”

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing.

Lancet turned to the woman with the severe bun and the crackling blue energy. ”Azura Flint. Class: Wind Mage. Advanced Class: Torrent Mage. You can manipulate atmospheric pressure to create concussive blasts. I heard that you fought for six hours against a horde of two hundred Demons. They gave you the Star of Valor for that.”

Azura looked at him with a little bit of surprise.

Lancet’s gaze moved to the broad-shouldered man with the scarred face and the massive greatsword. ”Steele Gorlwarden. Class: Vanguard Knight. Your greatsword, Earthrender, weighs four hundred pounds. You swing it with one hand. You once took down half an army with one swing.”

Steele’s scarred face split into a grin. It was not a friendly one, but not unfriendly either.

”And you,” Lancet said, turning to the wise-looking woman with the milky white eyes and the twisted oak staff. ”Letika Sorrowind. Class: Oracle. Very rare Class, one of the rarest in the Enchanter Class Group. You see possible futures. You predicted the Demon Break at Ashfen three days before it happened. The Kingdom evacuated seventeen thousand people because of you.”

Letika’s milky eyes settled on Lancet, and despite their blindness, they seemed to see him more clearly than anyone else in the compartment. She inclined her head slowly, a gesture of acknowledgment.

”You know your Awakeners,” Malakai rumbled.

Lancet shrugged. ”Well, I have to. Knowing Awakeners is important for me to decide on who to summon.”

All four Awakeners looked at him, but before they could comment, Spectra interrupted. First with a deep breath, then with that playful, light voice of hers.

”Interesting ride, I must say.”

She sounded like she was making conversation at a dinner party rather than in a detention vehicle.

”This vehicle,” she continued, testing the word on her tongue. Her crimson eyes swept across the Awakeners, watching their reactions. ”They are called vehicles, right?”

Malakai’s jaw tightened. Azura’s fingers twitched. Steele’s hand shifted slightly on his knee. Letika’s expression remained serene, but her milky eyes tracked Spectra’s voice with uncanny precision.

”In my time,” Spectra went on, ”I heard the world used to have lots of them. Running through granite roads like carriages with an endless battery.” She gestured vaguely at the walls, the floor, the glowing inlaid patterns. ”Then the Second World attacked and sent us back to the time of stone.”

She looked at the vehicle around her—the bronze paneling, the velvet seats, the soft ambient lighting—and pouted, a small, almost petulant expression. Then she shrugged.

”Seems we’ve clawed out of that time with an improvement.” She tapped a finger on the bronze wall, producing a soft metallic ring. ”Though the world still has the design of my time, I no longer see much stone.”

A small, approving smile crossed her lips. ”Metal and plastic are the world’s greatest inventions.”

Lancet smiled, humored by her monologue. He knew what she was doing. She was filling the silence because silence meant thinking, and she didn’t want to be thinking about Baal.

The Awakeners and Brigadiers were staring at her. It was obvious they were slightly nervous to be in the same place with her — the Mother of Demons, the legendary villainess who had tamed Baphomet himself.

Even with her powers suppressed, she radiated an aura that made trained soldiers grip their weapons a little tighter.

Spectra noticed. She raised her bound hands slightly, showing the Gracebreakers locked around her wrists. ”This isn’t necessary, you know?”

Thor spoke up as well. ”I agree with the Demoness on that point.” She raised her own cuffed hands. ”We have obviously willingly accepted to go with you to the Kingdom Council Hall. There’s no reason for you to shackle us like common criminals.”

Azura looked at her with respect. ”The handcuffs are only a common procedure,” she explained.

Thor’s eyes found her coldly. ”Knowing who we are, we should be treated with a little more leniency than common procedure.”

”It’s only because of who you are,” Malakai actually dared to snap at her, ”that we didn’t burst into the town and drag you out ourselves.”

There was a beat of silence as Thor glared at him.

Then Spectra broke it by bursting into laughter.

Her head tilted back as her shoulders shook while some Brigadiers jump in their seats.

”We all know how that would’ve ended,” she said, her voice still bubbling with mirth.

The four Awakeners shared glances but Azura took on herself to clear the tension.

”We didn’t want to cuff you all,” she said carefully. ”But the Demoness is the only one we do not fully trust.” She paused, then added with a small, diplomatic smile, ”And cuffing her alone would have been classist. The Kingdom would like to avoid a lawsuit.”

Spectra raised her bound hands again.

”And cuffing only me with a Grace-Gloombreaker...” She tilted her head. In her breaker, one cuff glowed with red light to block Grace, the other glowed with blue to block Gloom. ”Isn’t that a little...” She paused, rolling the unfamiliar word on her tongue. ”...classist?”

She said the word without knowing what it meant, her tone suggesting she was trying out a new piece of vocabulary she had just learned and wasn’t entirely sure she was using correctly.

The present world was more progressive now, more conscious of classism than her time had ever been. In Spectra’s era, classism had been the norm; Awakeners were punished and despised for the class they awakened, hierarchies rigid and unquestioned.

The idea that the Kingdom would worry about a lawsuit over discriminatory treatment was genuinely foreign to her.

Azura looked at Spectra and smiled knowingly. ”Nice try, Mother of Demons.”

Spectra rested back against the bronze wall and let out a long, theatrical sigh. ”Mother isn’t very pleased right now.”

The words were playful, but Lancet caught the flicker beneath them. The way her crimson eyes dimmed for just a moment. The way her smirk faltered at the edges. She was talking to keep the darkness at bay, but the darkness was patient. It could wait.

He looked at Astensia. She was already looking at him, and when their eyes met, she gave him a small, reassuring smile.

”It’ll be fine,” she said in a way that was sweet and knightly at the same time. ”We shall simply inform them what we saw.”

Lancet smiled back, drawing strength from her steadiness.

The Awakeners noticed the exchange between Lancet and Astensia. Malakai’s eyes narrowed slightly. Azura and Steele exchanged a glance. Letika’s milky gaze remained fixed on Lancet, her expression unreadable.

”Hope everything is fine back there?” The Head Commander, Maxxon asked.

”All is fine,” Letika replied. It was the first time Lancet heard her speak.

The silence from before continued as the vehicle hummed on, carrying them down out of the mountain lands. Through the arched windows, the rugged peaks of Deathrock’s territory gave way to gentler hills, and the hills to rolling plains dotted with farms and villages.

The colorful fumes from the exhaust painted the road behind them in shifting rainbows—indigo, gold, emerald—a trail of light marking their passage back toward the heart of the kingdom.

Toward Aethelgard.

Toward Brightspire.

Toward whatever judgment awaited them there.