《Super-Soldier in Another World》


 Chapter One: The Sparrow and The Dragon

    ¡°Final Kind cruiser inbound!¡± the ensign shouted, several blaring red monitors under-lighting her face as she scrambled toward the intercom ¡°Dragon-class cruiser inbound! Prepare for combat!¡±


    Captain Henry Stol maintained his air of calm command despite this harrowing news. He needed his crew members to see that he wasn¡¯t buckling under this pressure, or they would follow suit. Henry would need to put on a brave face for the crew, to show them that their captain had a plan for how to escape. Henry, knowing that it would aid his crew''s morale, kept his features neutral.


    Internally though, Henry saw little hope of survival.


    A Dragon-class cruiser was the largest and most deadly of all the Final Kind¡¯s spacecraft¡­ Henry had been through some close calls with the Final Kind¡¯s fleet, but he and his crew had never faced a Dragon-Class all by themselves¡­


    His ship, the Sparrow, had managed to beat the odds for the past six months, avoiding Final Kind ships and destroying any that had gotten too close. The Sparrow shouldn¡¯t have even made it this long¡­ Deep down, Henry knew that. He rubbed a hand through his short black hair, white-winged at the temples. His crow''s feet felt like they were deepening with every passing moment, another sign of his growing stress and age. With the Dragon appearing now, he was precisely aware of every wrinkle furrowing as he thought about what he would have to do to save his ship.


    He adjusted the collar of his white uniform. It was an Eighth-Arm ship captain''s garb, mostly white and trimmed with red, it made him easily stick out compared to the rest of the crew. He had never been partial to the twin tails that streaked down from the coat to nearly brush the floor, but the uniform was mandatory.


    Henry then pursed his lips and lifted his chin to face his crew. There were around thirty people manning the gunmetal-gray amphitheater right now, max capacity. Technicians, weapons personnel and shield jockeys all fiddled about with their terminals, making calls to the crew below decks to give orders. Henry might not have been able to tell the difference between all of them had their one-piece jumpsuits all been the same color. Red for weapons, blue for shields, and green for techies, though at a glance it didn''t seem that any of them were performing their tasks any differently from one another. One terminal looked much the same as another after all, at least to Henry.


    These men and women had gone through six months of hell and were still willing to fight whatever came the Sparrow''s way. Henry would need that bravery very soon. He turned back to the holo-deck and frowned as nervous sweat rolled down his brow.


    This little Sparrow-class frigate would be turned into a floating hunk of charred gray metal unless they got out of here, fast¡­ but the Talon beams the Dragon possessed would easily rip them out of any long jump¡­ That really only left one option. The Talon beams wouldn¡¯t be able to stop a short jump, that was unless the Final Kind expected it.


    He was certain that they wouldn¡¯t foresee such an otherwise foolish maneuver from the Sparrow. Henry would have to bank on that¡­ He turned to address the amphitheater, the several crewmen continuing to fiddle with their terminals as they spoke to one another in nervous whispers. The chamber was large enough for his voice to echo, and the little speaker implanted in his throat ensured that his orders wouldn¡¯t go unheard.


    ¡°You hear that?¡± Henry asked his crew, his voice deep and clear, the voice modulator installed in his throat sending his words booming through the amphitheater, ¡°They had to send a Dragon after a Sparrow, now what does that tell you?¡± He paused for a moment, the eyes of his crew glued to him as he stepped over to the glowing holo-deck, ¡°It means they¡¯re scared of us, and they should be. We¡¯ve been on the run for six months since they took Earth, and every ship they sent after us has never returned.¡± Henry then clasped his hands behind his back, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. He would need to give them the truth now, ¡°We aren¡¯t going to escape, you all need to know that right now. The Dragon can pull us right out of light-speed with its talon beam¡­ Knowing that I want to take the beast down with us. If you remember, the Sparrow has been outfitted with an experimental weapon.¡± Henry explained, pausing for a brief moment, ¡°I think this would be the appropriate time for a field test. Are you all with me?¡±


    Nervous silence came over the amphitheater, interrupted only by the sounds of beeping terminals. The silence stretched on long enough that Henry began to wonder if his men were all about to break out into panic. Thankfully his worry proved to be unfounded, as the crew all shouted their agreement, every man and woman wanting to go down fighting rather than submit to the rule of the Final Kind. Henry smiled at the echoing enthusiasm of his crew, a single tear threatening to slide down his cheek.


    He wiped it away, turning to the holo-deck next to him and pressing his thumb down on the glowing button. It was designed to detect any spacecraft nearby and display them for his crew to see. That way, they could all come up with a plan of action on how to engage the enemy, for they could all see what they were dealing with.


    A crimson glow illuminated the amphitheater, drowning out the bright overhead lights and showing a horrifying monstrosity to his men. Henry knew now why the brass referred to this as ¡®Dragon¡¯. It wasn¡¯t merely in reference to its massive size, there was something draconic about the craft. The head of the ship almost looked like a horned skull, the ¡®snout¡¯ stretching far from the thick scaly body. They weren¡¯t really scales of course, but the hull¡¯s design gave it that impression, looking nigh invulnerable. The gaping maw of the Dragon housed the ship''s most dangerous weapon, a planet-scorching plasma cannon.


    Thankfully, The Final Kind wouldn¡¯t use such a weapon on this little frigate. They only ever used it on worlds that refused to¡­ comply with their laws. What Henry was really worried about were the thousands of other weapons dotting the craft, all capable of ripping through this ship¡¯s shields with ease. The Sparrow did have one advantage here, however, and that was the sheer size difference between the two ships.


    Henry knew that the Dragon-class ships were meant for engaging multiple large opponents, not single little birdies like this one. If they could just get close enough¡­ they could detonate the weapon point-blank, and Dragon or not, the ship would be destroyed¡­ Sparrow and Dragon both. The Sparrow would have to do the short jump and hope that the Talons didn¡¯t manage to snatch them. Henry doubted that they would expect such a maneuver, and again, that was exactly what he was betting on.


    He was about to start shouting orders when suddenly, several small red blips emerged from the Dragon''s aft. They raced toward the Sparrow at a near-blinding speed, causing some of the crew to gasp in terror. These blips were thankfully not normal combat craft, for they were far too small.


    ¡°Mosquitos!¡± One of the crew shouted, looking up from his terminal, ¡°Hundreds of them!¡±


    Henry went wide-eyed before saying aloud, ¡°So they don¡¯t want to outright destroy the ship¡­¡±


    Did that mean they knew about the weapon? Were they going to try and take it so they could reverse-engineer it? He couldn¡¯t allow that to happen. The Final Kind¡¯s arsenal was deadly enough.


    ¡°Get ready for a short jump, I want to be right next to the Dragon.¡± Henry ordered, clasping his hands behind his back and straightening his posture.


    ¡°Aye-aye sir, but the Mosquitos are going to hit us before we can jump!¡± The ensign yelled, still standing next to the intercom.


    The poor girl had been promoted to ensign quite early in her life, she would have made for a fantastic captain¡­ It was too bad that she''d never live to wear the coat Henry now sported. Ensign gray would just have to do, but she wore it proudly as she firmed her features, waiting for his command.


    ¡°Then wake him up,¡± Henry ordered.


    ¡°...Aye sir.¡± She replied, thumbing the intercom. ¡°Ground troops, Mosquitos imminent! Arm yourselves and get ready for combat! Cryo station, unfreeze Hoplite thirty-seven!¡±


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡°You heard her, get him goin¡¯!¡± Hoplite heard a man say outside his cryopod.


    ¡°I pressed the button as soon as I heard her sir, he should be unfreezing now, probably conscious.¡± Another voice, a woman replied.


    He could feel the nano-freeze melting, seeping out from his pores like sweat. The experience was mildly painful, as it was every time he was awoken, but he had learned long ago to ignore the pain. Terna would not tolerate weakness from him. It would be best to remain still until his casket was opened, moving around before the nano-freeze completely thawed could cause significant damage to his flesh. Enough damage to potentially force him into going Wendigo. If they were unfreezing him, they¡¯d need Hoplite to stay sane for the coming combat.


    ¡°Tubes are draining, nano-freeze capsules are almost full.¡± That same voice said.


    That was good, soon Hoplite would be out and in the fray again. He was only ever awoken when it was time to fight. As was a Hoplite¡¯s purpose. It wasn¡¯t long before he heard the familiar hiss of his cryo-casket opening. His eyes were still frozen shut, but the lids would thaw soon.


    Hoplite then felt the casket rising from the ground, the grind and hiss of the mechanisms audible through the thin metal of his casket. When he could no longer hear the mechanisms working, he knew that his feet would be pointing toward the ground, ready for him to step out. Hoplite¡¯s casket opened finally, and warm air ¨Cwarm compared to the inside of the casket anyhow¨C greeted his skin. He took a deep breath before fully emerging. Hoplite felt the smooth cold metal beneath his feet, and he relished the sensation. He didn¡¯t like being in the cryopod of course, but he did what he was ordered to do, without question.


    He felt an exceptionally warm towel get draped over his head, of which he was grateful for. He pressed the cloth against his face, breathing in the heat and letting it soak into his emptied pores. He opened his eyes then, seeing the white fabric of the towel, white light seeping through the thin cloth.


    Hoplite then removed the towel from his head, wrapping it around his pillar-like waist and staring down at the two cryo-officers standing in front of him. They stared back, apparently awed by his presence, as all humans were when they saw him. He was a human too, of course, but Hoplite knew why they were awed. Hoplites stood head and shoulders above the tallest of unmodified humans and had the enhanced musculature to match their great height.


    ¡°Uh¡­ welcome back sir.¡± The first officer, a large man with short graying dark hair said.


    A man of his size likely wasn¡¯t used to being dwarfed in this way, hence his reaction, Hoplite figured. The woman next to him was far shorter, barely coming up to Hoplite¡¯s waist. He figured she was smaller than the average woman at least. They both wore the same light blue one-piece jumpsuit, indicating their role as cryo officers. Despite the size of the cryo station, it only needed around four people to operate it, two per shift.


    Hoplite furrowed his brow as he noticed that all of the other cryo-caskets were empty. Rows upon rows of rectangular glass containers with metal backing sat completely vacant, at least on this level. There were four levels above the one Hoplite¡¯s casket was kept, but if these ones were bare of occupants, he doubted that there would be many above. The Sparrow clearly wasn¡¯t running with a skeleton crew. With the exception of Hoplite¡¯s casket, the rest were all uniform, capable of fitting humans of any normal size. Hoplite caskets, of course, had to be made larger, and as opposed to clear glass, constructed from solid tungsteel.


    ¡°Sir, we got Mosquitos incoming.¡± The man said, ¡°We might not even got time to get ya suited up.¡±


    An unfortunate thing, but he could still crush skulls with ease, even without his armor. Despite that, he would prefer to have it on. Hoplite didn¡¯t know how many craft were coming, but he would be twice as effective with it on. Without a word, he made his way toward the armory, already knowing where it was located. Hoplite may have only done a sweep of the Sparrow once before, but he had been drilled to remember every Ternan ship''s floor plans. How long had it been since he¡¯d been in cryo? He wasn¡¯t sure how much time had passed since Earth had been evacuated. Perhaps a few weeks, maybe a month or two.


    He walked quickly, letting the towel fall from his waist without care. He was not bothered by nudity, but he had noticed that normal humans were made uncomfortable by it.


    Hoplite had not felt the need to hold up the towel however, he would need both hands free to don his armor so he would have needed to discard it anyway. He heard the two cryo-officers struggle to keep pace with him¡­ Just why were they following? They quickly passed through several mechanized sliding doors and gray metal hallways filled with humans buzzing about, all only stopping to stare at Hoplite as he passed. Hoplite¡¯s joints were still stiff, making it difficult to move much faster than this slow stride. He was still making fantastic headway despite that, after all, his ¡®slow stride¡¯ was still as fast as a human could sprint.


    At some point, the cryo-officers had decided to stop following after him, knowing that their jobs were done. Soon, he entered the armory, stark naked before a scene of chaos. Marines, divers, and exo-troops all quickly began donning their equipment, pulling rifles out of lockers and stepping into auto assemblers to get heavy armor donned. Rows upon rows of lockers and auto assemblers stretched out before him, the hinges opening and closing over the hissing mechanical limbs working to armor up the troops nearby.


    Soon, a marine caught sight of him, staring dumbstruck. He saluted, slamming his right fist onto his left shoulder. The black metal of the marine''s armor gave a resounding clang from the force of the impact, and soon more soldiers followed suit after the first. There were warriors from almost every branch of the Eighth Arm in the armory¡­ several had made it onto the Sparrow during the evacuation it seemed, a good thing considering the conflict to come. Having marines, exo-troops, and divers at Hoplite¡¯s back would make fending off the Final Kind all the easier.


    Marines were the first troops to go into the fray, and the last ones out. Wearing a strong yet lightweight armor made from tungsteel, they were incredibly effective as the tip of Terna''s unbreakable spear; destroying the Final Kind''s frontline forces with brutal efficiency despite the standard ballistic weaponry they often carried.


    As powerful as laser weaponry was, it was also hard to produce and simple ballistic weapons had historically proven to get the job done for most aliens. Confident eyes tinged with anxiety regarded one another beneath open-faced black helmets as they gave reassuring smiles to one another. Brothers and sisters in arms they had each-others back more so than any other soldier, their average squad cohesion ranking just below that of the Hoplites themselves.


    Exo-troops already in their suits attempted to repeat the salute as best as they could with their limited flexibility. Their suits hissed as their thick mechanized limbs moved, but it was barely audible over the hustle and bustle in the armory. It required special training in order to operate the heavy power armor, and the more advanced variants required specialized bionics to be able to utilize them. The gray armor was bulky and broad, with advanced servos and gears built into the limbs to allow the carrying of heavy munitions. Hoplite could see Gatling guns, both the standard ballistics and the occasional laser variants strapped to the undersides of their arms. As a result of this, their arms were almost totally locked at a ninety-degree angle. The flaw with exo-troops was their lack of good mobility, being more like a walking weapons platform, rather than just infantry. That was fine as long as they were facing their intended targets and had a helping of marines to guard their flanks. Joysticks jutted up under their hands, a button on each that would unleash hellfire upon whatever poor alien scum would dare stand before the might of Terna¡¯s Eighth Arm. There were other mountable weapons that exo-troops could utilize besides the Gatlings, but Hoplite didn''t think that explosive ordinance would be permitted for this mission.


    Divers that had been fastening small compact jet-packs to their backs stared as well, their shocked faces hidden beneath their black reflective visors. Divers wore the lightest armor out of all Terna''s forces, to allow maximum efficiency with their equipment. The armor they sported was dark brown and tight to the skin, with plates of black tungsteel placed here and there to guard vital areas. Their purpose was for hit-and-run tactics, flying in and out quickly to take advantage of exposed flanks with shotguns and automatic rifles, not to mention grenades. Other divers hovered high in the air, almost out of sight to take out priority targets with specialized lightweight sniper rifles. Not everyone could become a diver of course, the jet packs functioned at their best when they weren''t under too much strain... as a result, there was a weight limit. You had to be below one-hundred-twenty pounds to be eligible to be a diver, which meant that the most common divers were women. There were men too of course, but they had to be of slight build to be eligible to take the training.


    As Hoplite passed through the armory and toward the end of this wide chamber, more and more of the soldiers took notice of him. They all continued to stare, dumbstruck even as he scanned his retinas at the keypad at the end of the room. The heavy metal doors next to the pad hissed open immediately afterward, sliding shut as soon as Hoplite stepped over the threshold.


    ¡°Welcome Hoplite thirty-seven.¡± A robotic voice said from the intercom.


    Hoplite ignored the automated greeting, instead looking to the auto-assembler at the center of this small chamber. A single light illuminated the round assembler, reflecting off the sleek white metal. The machine looked like nothing more than a big metal ring, and essentially that was what it was. It would mostly be the dozens of articulated mechanical limbs that surrounded the ring that¡¯d be attaching his armor. The boots and gauntlets of his armor were already locked in place on the assembler, once he donned them, the process would begin. Wasting no more time, he approached the assembler.


    The gauntlets and boots locked his hands and feet into place, the assembler whirring to life as the robotic arms surrounding him began work. The ring spun around rapidly as mechanical arms attached every individual piece of armor to his body, the process finally ending with the machine sliding his helmet on. When Hoplite stepped out of the auto-assembler, he took a brief moment to look into a mirror that hung on the wall next to the door. He was pleased to see that there hadn¡¯t been any errors with its assembly.


    The pitch-black Adium armor he wore was trimmed with blood-red lines, indicating his rank within the Hoplites. The knee plates were solid red, his wide shoulder plates encircled by an equally red trim, a high rank to those who could recognize the pattern¡¯s significance. Though with the complete and total destruction of the Hoplites, it was meaningless.


    He was the last one remaining as far as he knew.


    Hoplite then turned his head, making sure that the powerful mechanical limbs didn¡¯t scratch any portion of the advanced combat helmet.


    Unlike other models of power armor, his helmet didn¡¯t have a visor. For all intents and purposes, it was little more than a rounded hunk of metal, the only opening being for donning and removal. He could only see by function of several self-repairing micro-cameras implanted in the suit. They were everywhere, on the front and back of the helmet, to behind his knees and the front of his shoulders. Normally, he only had two sections of cameras active at a time, one front and one back. Whenever he tried to have all the cameras active it just gave him a headache. Two pairs of heavy-duty flashlights were also installed, on the front and back of his helmet.


    They were almost unnecessary, what with his motion tracker and the option for both thermal and night vision. Yet there was one advantage to having the nigh-archaic flashlights installed. Much like humans, most aliens could be stunned by the light it could emit. A bump of his chin on one of the tiny pads inside the helmet could activate what most referred to as ¡®seizure mode¡¯, but he rarely used it. This was simply due to the fact that it would also throw off the aim of his comrades.


    He could control what cameras he had active in the same way, bumping a pad to allow him to cycle through the functions. Hoplite¡¯s default camera layout was simple, leaving one camera active in front and the other to watch his back. It had taken some getting used to, but once he had mastered it, nothing could sneak up on him. Three-hundred and sixty degrees of vision proved immeasurably useful when it was him alone against an army.


    The rest of the suit seemed to be in good order, with no scratches along its sleek frame. Well, to him it was sleek anyhow, compared to the older models. Regular humans had taken to calling it the ¡®fridge-suit¡¯, a name which had stuck amongst the soldiery. Perhaps it was just an alternative name for the Phalanx armor that command had never told him about? He could certainly see why the comparison was made between his suit and a fridge. The suit¡¯s arms and legs, and the large torso plate particularly, were broad and blocky, with the corners only slightly rounded off. This armor was built to take as much damage as possible, so it had been given the sturdiest construction possible. This durability was greatly amplified with a kinetic shield that would deflect projectiles and even absorb explosions. Even without the shield, the thick Adium plates would be capable of defending him against practically anything. To this day, nothing had managed to pierce or melt the plating... fridge suit indeed.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    He then turned to his locker, the tall metal container holding the tools necessary for destroying the coming invaders. Each weapon within had been specially crafted for a super-soldier¡¯s oversized hands, most normal guns proving to be too small for a Hoplite to utilize in the field effectively. It wasn¡¯t that Hoplite couldn¡¯t use standard Eighth Arm equipment, it usually just meant that he would have to tear off the trigger guard first. The weapons within his locker had been sized for extra-large personnel and had been crafted to still be compatible with standard munitions.


    He pulled it open, seeing his favored tools for expunging Final Kind filth. Hoplite wasted no time in swiping up his silvery ballistic pistol, magnetizing it, and a few extra magazines to his thigh. The power of the Fortis magnum was capable of punching right through kinetic shields and most types of Final Kind battle-plate with ease.


    Hoplite then grabbed his rifle, sleek, black, and semi-automatic with an auto-tracking dot sight. It may not have been as powerful as the magnum, but its accuracy was second to none. To this day, Hoplite has never missed his mark with the Visus rifle.


    He attached the Visus to his back plate, and grabbed the final item from the locker, keeping it clutched in his grip. A long-barreled black shotgun, its shells powerful enough to punch a hole through any alien that dared stand before it. It was a heavy thing and could double as a sturdy bludgeon, a perfect tool for close combat. There were no sights attached, it was unnecessary, whatever you fired at would turn to mist even with a glancing hit. This one was large enough that it looked like it should be an attachment for an exo-suit, but with the size of Hoplite¡¯s hands and his greater strength, he could wield it as easily as a twig. The Magnus shotgun was his personal favorite instrument of destruction, capable of clearing entire rooms with a single shot.


    He kept the Magnus in hand, taking the final item from the locker and tying it around his waist. A heavy-duty combat belt, equipped with ammo-filled tac pouches and a sheath for an arm-sized tungsteel combat knife. The Sectis knife would be necessary in close quarters, nothing could split flesh and metal quite like it. Once Hoplite was fully armed and ready, he emerged from the chamber, the Magnus in hand.


    The armory had emptied out considerably it seemed, with only a few soldiers left struggling to don their gear. The Sparrow shook almost as soon as the door slid shut behind him, and he readied himself, aiming his shotgun at the surrounding walls of the Sparrow.


    ¡°The Mosquitos hit! They''re drilling in, wherever you are, get ready!¡± The ensign shouted, ¡°Keep them busy for as long as you can until we can jump!¡±


    Jump? So they were running again¡­ Earth may have been conquered, but surely there were other colonies out there still that they could go defend? Had humanity really lost? He began jogging toward the hallway, a group of marines trying to follow behind him. Through his back cameras, he could see the soldiers huffing and puffing as Hoplite¡¯s light jog left them utterly in the dust. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t appreciate having help, it was just that Hoplite could not afford to slow down.


    It didn¡¯t take long before he found the first Mosquito tube, passing into a wide hallway and spotting his first victims. Little armored creatures with elephant-like gray skin and huge bug-like eyes stared at him with terror, rat-like teeth chittering in an unintelligible babble. They didn¡¯t even come up to a normal human¡¯s knees, but Hoplite knew that these creatures were more dangerous than they seemed. The little golden-glowing plasma rifles the creatures wielded could melt through a man at minimum charge. There were around twenty of them, groups moving apart from one another to begin combing the halls for victims. Hoplite had become familiar with every combat race that was a part of the Final Kind¡¯s military, and he had killed more of this species than any other. They were often called Pugs by the troops, likely due to the shape of their faces, but the true name of their race was Lomi.


    The go-to cannon fodder of the Final Kind, Pugs bred like rabbits and were too dumb to question their places but smart enough to fire a gun. Their armor was uniform, the same shade of red splashed haphazardly against hard plastic armor. Pugs were always meant to die - absorbing shots meant for the more useful members of the Final Kind¡¯s military, so they gave them completely ineffective armor. It may have almost been better to let Pugs just go naked, for the hard plastic armor they wore was bulky and hard for them to move in.


    Hoplite had always theorized that Pugs were only equipped with ineffective armor so that they would feel safer than they were. After all, it was better to have your cannon fodder feel like they¡¯d be safe when doing a suicide charge. The Pugs trained their guns on him, the coiled rifles charging up to max power. The plasma rifles, like all Final Kind weapons, were as sleek as they were deadly, the barrel looking like a steel honeycomb. Hoplite could see down the barrels to the tiny golden plasma reactors within, knowing that even a single max-charge shot would be capable of melting through standard-issue marine plate. He had once put a bullet right down the center of the barrel and hit that reactor with devastating results. The resulting explosion usually matched that of a standard-issue frag grenade, but Hoplite wouldn¡¯t be doing any trick shots unless he had ample opportunity.


    Hoplite fired the Magnus, the powerful shells splattering gray blood and entrails all across the hall. The slugs that didn¡¯t directly hit the Pugs ricocheted down the hall, denting the metal and flying through alien bodies left and right. A few shots bounced off his energy shield, draining it only by a fraction before they recharged. After that single shot, only three Pugs remained out of the twenty that had infested the hall, the trio of survivors screeching as they turned tail to flee down another hallway.


    They were immediately gunned down before they could turn the corner, automatic rifles turning them to gray chunks of fleshy goo and sending sharp chunks of plastic flying. Hoplite darted down to the center of the hallway, hopping over bodies and pointing his gun down the Mosquito tube. The black interior of the tube was only lit by a series of dark red light strips, and Hoplite could see that it had been emptied of all occupants.


    He immediately turned, running down the hall and rounding the corner where the Pugs had been reduced to gray chunks of viscera. The marine squad at the opposite end of the hall nearly opened fire on Hoplite as he sprinted toward them. Thankfully they held their fire once they realized what he was, not that the rounds would have had a chance of getting through his shield. They moved to greet him, but Hoplite rushed right past them, intent on finding more aliens to butcher before command put him back in cryo.


    And oh he did find them. More Pugs than he could count got blasted away by his shotgun or had their skulls caved in with firm kicks. Eventually, he found the other aliens he knew would be on the ship, the larger, more deadly variants. He engaged in a gunfight with a tentacled Swaglay, the eldritch creature blasting him with rays of superheated plasma from the many tendril-mounted guns it held. It had a broad torso hidden beneath the many moving tendrils, its four insect-like legs skittering around to avoid gunfire. The armor it wore could stop small caliber rounds easily, but larger guns could punch through the scaled alloy like it was paper. He ended it quickly enough with a well-placed shot from the Visus rifle, punching through its octopi-like skull and sending the Pugs around it fleeing in terror.


    He shot them all dead before he began maneuvering through Mosquito-pierced hallways, slaying Final Kind with the efficiency of a machine. Eventually, he came upon the vehicle bay, where hundreds of soldiers and aliens battled. Hoplite sniped more Swaglay and Pugs with the Visus rifle before turning his attention to the fliers. The large vehicle bay proved to be an ample combat theater for what the marines merely called Wasps. They were man-sized insectoid creatures with strong exoskeletons and two pairs of arms and legs¡­ their racial name was Jaro, but Hoplite preferred to call them ¡®Wasps¡¯ as well. The buzzing of their massive translucent wings terrified the troops, but to Hoplite it was merely a nuisance.


    At some point, he found himself next to a mounted turret, set up no doubt by the freshly melted corpse next to it. Hoplite took to the turret and began gunning down the Wasps, punching through their black-striped yellow exoskeletons and sending them crashing to the ground dead, bright green blood mixing in with the variety of colors now staining the floor. Every bullet Hoplite fired managed to find a home within a Wasp¡¯s wretched body, punching through mandibled skulls or splitting open large abdomens with brutal efficiency. After the turret ran out, he ripped it free of its mount and threw it at a group of Pugs that had pinned a marine down with gunfire. The man had been trying to make himself as small as possible behind a little metal crate, one that was half his size.


    The hot plasma had reduced the crate to molten slag within seconds, if Hoplite had been any slower then the next volley would have burnt that marine to a crisp. The detached turret crushed one of the Pugs, the sound of crunching plastic and a gurgling throat no doubt reaching its comrade¡¯s ears. Seeing that one of their own had been turned to mush, they scattered, running headlong into other Pugs or into crossfire before being reduced to little more than peppered steak. The marine hiding behind the melted crate then saw Hoplite standing far above him on the platform overlooking the vehicle bay, flashing Hoplite a thumbs up before he began unloading his rifle into the enemy lines. Hoplite then leaped from the platform, landing on top of a U-93 heavy ballistic tank and drawing his shotgun.


    There were still more aliens to kill-


    ¡°Jump is a go!¡± The ensign shouted.


    That didn¡¯t matter, the aliens were on the ship and they would still be here after the jump. He and the marines continued fighting to reclaim the vehicle bay from the invaders, pushing the Final Kind ever backward as the Eighth arm built momentum. Hoplite never noticed when the ship finished the light jump, nor even when it started. Right as they were mopping up the last of the aliens, the captain¡¯s voice came over the intercom.


    ¡°It¡¯s been an honor serving with you all. We¡¯re taking out this Dragon-class here and now with the anti-matter bomb we¡¯ve been carrying. Hopefully, that¡¯ll put a big enough dent in the Final Kind that they leave our remaining colonies alone. Good work everyone, see you on the other side.¡±


    Hoplite froze in place then. Dragon-class? Anti-matter bomb¡­? Was he going to¡­ he was going to die? A strange cold sensation welled up within him, something he hadn¡¯t felt since his first days as a Hoplite recruit¡­ all the way back when he was just a child.


    Fear.


    That fear left him paralyzed for long enough that he didn¡¯t react to the armored jeep being chucked at his head by an ape-like Yugoro. The corded strength of its four arms sending the vehicle speeding towards his head like a freight train. If Hoplite had braced for the attack, it certainly would have hurt, but he would still be in the fight.


    But he was not braced.


    It collided with his helmet and snapped his head back, sending him crashing into unconsciousness.


    ¡­


    ¡­


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    It was dark, that was the first thing that came to mind as consciousness returned. Were his cameras disabled? Hoplite bumped his chin, seeing the display come up. Just darkness, the cameras themselves were functional. He felt up and down his body and came to realize that he was floating. Zero G¡¯s, but he wasn¡¯t out in space, there would be stars if he was. This pure blackness meant two things; he was still in the vehicle bay, and the power had gone out. That would mean that life support and the gravity generator had also gone out¡­


    It was likely that all the crew was dead by now, including the Final Kind invaders. His suit could keep him alive for up to twelve hours without oxygen¡­ so how much time had passed? He bumped his chin again, seeing the time display on his hud. He had gotten out of cryo¡­ roughly eleven and a half hours ago. He had around thirty minutes to get to an oxygen-rich environment or he¡¯d suffocate.


    He activated the built-in flashlights installed on the front and back of his helmet, revealing that yes, he was still on board the Sparrow in the vehicle bay. Bodies of both man and alien surrounded Hoplite, bumping into each other on occasion before passing through floating liquid pools of multi-colored blood.


    Hoplite activated the thrusters in his boots and back-plate, and floated up to the exit and out of the vehicle bay, moving through dozens of floating corpses as he went. He drifted through the empty and dark halls of the Sparrow, passing over the bodies left behind. He didn¡¯t stop to try and identify any of them, there was no point and a quick scan with his thermals confirmed what he already knew. Everything in the ship was cold and dead. He needed to get to an escape pod.


    Those would have their own power and life support system. He could use that to renew his oxygen supply and get off this ship if need be. Hoplite knew where the pods were¡­ but he found himself growing anxious as he found several of them missing. Likely either Final Kind or fellow humans got to them and escaped after the bomb¡­ speaking of which¡­ Did it work?


    Captain Stol had come on the intercom to say that he was going to suicide bomb a Dragon-class cruiser with an anti-matter bomb. Hoplite didn¡¯t know too much about them, but he did know that they were extremely experimental and that the Sparrow had been outfitted with one for testing. A test that had never come to be after the Final Kind took Earth. Likely by now, the aliens were finished subjugating humanity to follow their draconian laws.


    It seemed as if the bomb''s effect was more like that of an EMP, rather than a so-called anti-matter bomb. After all, the ship was still here and the power was out, what else could that mean? His thoughts were cut off after he finally found a pod. The very last one at the end of the hall was pill-shaped and empty of any passengers.


    He floated inside and activated the life support system, shutting the sliding doors behind him. He waited there for an hour, just floating as his oxygen tank refilled itself. The phalanx suit could detect when he was in a non-breathable environment and sealed itself off accordingly, but when his environment had air, it would open its filters and suck the air into a hyper-compressed oxygen tank.


    After that tank was refilled, he shut off the life support and reopened the doors, his filters immediately sealing. He floated through the corridors until he finally came upon the bridge. The amphitheater was completely empty of bodies. They might have made it to the escape shuttles along with captain Stol, but where would they escape to? There had to be somewhere they intended to land the pods. Either that or they had found another human ship and chose to escape to it, though that was unlikely.


    The ship was blacked out, with no hope of using the holodeck for anything. He could always just use the engineer ladders to take a peek outside. There should be one around the shuttle bay he just left, engineers constantly had to use those ladders to keep from floating away. It wasn¡¯t like they would float off if they let go, they always carried cables with them to stay safe when performing maintenance.


    Hoplite wouldn¡¯t bother with safety cables, his boosters would let him get back to the ship even if he somehow lost his grip. He didn¡¯t have to search long for the access hatch that would lead him outside. It was encircled by a bright yellow line and read ¡®engineer access¡¯. He keyed the button next to the hatch but got no response. Right, power was out across the Sparrow, he¡¯d need to be more physical here.


    He slipped his fingers in the groove between the sliding doors and magnetized his boots to the ground. Hoplite strained, gritting his teeth as he forced the thick doors apart with his and the suit''s enhanced strength. He only got it as far open as his arm span before he stepped through, the doors slamming shut behind him. They made no noise as they did so.


    The airlock was small, with only a single closed manhole in the center of the room. Considering the fact that the power was out, he would have to pry this one open as well. That proved to be no large feat, the previous door had been a challenge, but this would be as easy as peeling an orange. Soon he was scrambling down the maintenance shaft, kicking open the second hatch at the bottom, and climbing the ladder out into space.


    He climbed quickly, only briefly observing the surrounding stars before ascending. He could see half of a green moon far off to his left¡­ that must have meant that there was a planet nearby right? Soon, he had his answer after he reached the top of the Sparrow. He peered over the top of the ladder to see a gigantic eyeball staring back at him, floating in the black void of space. The iris matched the many bloodshot veins stretching toward the center, all a deep shade of oceanic blue. Hoplite saw that parts of this entity''s eyeball were a deep infected green, with patches of red and yellow on the upper half of the thing. The lower halves seemed to be rotting the worst it seemed, with a blighted deep purple shade on the left, and dead reddish-brown on the right.


    The eyelids were both different shades as well, the top being a fiery red and the bottom an icy white, the lashes matching both. The sclera was the same shade of blue as the veins and iris, with the pupil being yet an even deeper shade of cobalt. Hoplite stared at the monstrosity, which stared back at him, not blinking. It seemed to fill the entirety of space for that instant, imposing and horrifically massive. His hands dented the gray metal ladder, his grip stronger for the terror flooding him. Hoplite¡¯s heart beat loudly in his ears, a cacophonous rhythm that threatened to drown out all thoughts. He waited for it to blink, waited for it to do something, but nothing ever came. After his fearful awe subsided, Hoplite eventually realized that this eyeball¡­ was a planet.


    How could that be? How could the geology of this world have come to be shaped in such a way? What were the odds of this being pure chance? Was this some kind of Final Kind art world? He had never known them to be artistic in anything but subjugation and genocide. Hoplite shook his head, there was no way that this was a Final Kind world, if it was, he would have seen countless cruisers and defense platforms in the atmosphere, but aside from that¡­ there was nothing.


    Nothing except the dark husk of the Dragon-class cruiser. It drifted lifelessly, no lights shining from its sleek scaled bulk. It dwarfed the Sparrow a thousand-fold, being nearly the size of the green moon nearby. So the bomb had worked¡­ it had to have had the effect of an EMP then¡­ but¡­ if it had just been an EMP, then why was the Dragon missing its back end? From the way the ship was angled, he could see that the back half of the Dragon had been sheared clean off. As it tilted, Hoplite could make the honeycomb-like structure within the Dragon, matching the interiors of other Final Kind spacecraft.


    There were questions he had; very many questions that he needed answers to. Hoplite had a feeling that those answers would be down there on that cosmic eyeball. Light illuminated the left half of the planet, though with the tilt, it would be getting dark soon on that side. If he were to launch as soon as possible, then he would likely land on that left half. Did the surviving crew jettison down there after all? Before all the air evacuated from the life support system?


    They must have.


    But if they evacuated to that world¡­


    That meant that the Final Kind likely evacuated what personnel they could as well. Somewhere down on that eye world, the Eighth Arm fought against the forces of the Final Kind¡­ without Hoplite. He would be joining them soon, they just had to hold out a little longer.


    For the next three hours, he gathered up weapons, rations, and other equipment into the shuttle, as much as it would be able to carry. Hoplite had no idea what the situation would be like down there, but he wouldn¡¯t be caught unprepared. Unfortunately for Hoplite, all of the vehicle-sized escape pods had jettisoned, meaning he would not be able to take a vehicle with him. That at least meant that there were vehicles that had made it planetside, that would give the Eighth Arm better chances against Final Kind forces.


    He packed all the scavenged gear he found into the eight seats on either side of the pod, making sure to pack as much extra ammo as he possibly could. Hoplite climbed into the pilot''s seat, and started the pod once more. The door slid shut behind him and he punched it, pushing the lever forward and feeling the shuttle launch out of the dead Sparrow. Hoplite had to angle the shuttle down toward the planet just right, he didn¡¯t want to crash in the middle of the ocean after all.


    He aimed for the greenest part of the planet and activated the thrusters. It would be a while before the pod actually reached the planet¡¯s atmosphere, considering that he was launching from right next to the moon. These shuttles were fast, but they couldn¡¯t go light speed. He guessed it would be an hour or two before it actually reached the eye. Light barely touched that portion in the western hemisphere, so by time he landed, Hoplite estimated that it would indeed be nighttime as he had predicted earlier. That wouldn''t matter much to him, the only thing that made him uncomfortable was the time it would take to make it to the surface. Hoplite knew that worrying about the time of his landing wouldn''t get him there any faster...


    So he waited, seeing the massive world-eye drawing closer and closer until finally¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡°Ess?¡± She heard her sister, Lya, say beside her.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Essa replied, opening her eyes to see the starry sky above her.


    ¡°What do you think the Harkhall is gonna do about the monster next to the moon?¡± Lya asked her, ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    Essa sighed, sitting up from the grass to look at her younger sister. She was in her fifth year now, and loaded with questions that Essa didn¡¯t have the answers to. In truth, Essa did not much like the appearance of this ¡®moon monster¡¯ either. A sign of this age¡¯s coming end? Hopefully not, though if Pillar-Born were to appear in the wake of this thing¡­


    Well that would confirm it. Essa grabbed her sister by the shoulder, and pointed to Rehtyna with a sigh.


    ¡°Probably ignore it. Look at how high up the moon is Lya¡­ they can¡¯t reach it with their Dok-ah.¡± She pushed her long black hair behind one of her pointed ears as she spoke, ¡°It hasn¡¯t even done anything. If it was really a monster, it would have eaten the moon by now. Best not to worry about it too much.¡±


    Lya scrunched her brow in thought, turning her little head back to her sister, then back up to the sky. Like Essa, she had their mother''s hair, pure black like the sea at night. Essa was certain that she wouldn''t have been able to even see her sister¡¯s hair without the viridian light of Rehtyna shining down on this field. Essa enjoyed little moments like this, just out in the wilderness with her sister¡­ crickets chirping, frogs croaking, and the occasional firefly flitting about. Besides the thing next to the moon, this was a perfect summer night.


    This clearing was Essa¡¯s favorite to lay down in, the grass was high enough that it felt like laying down on the softest mattress, and the trees were so perfectly spaced that the broad green leaves served to frame the night sky for viewing. It was like a perfect painting, with the green moon shining down on everything while its ever present companions, the stars, twinkled like glass in the sun. The new addition of the ''moon monster'' definitely was something that drew a lot of her attention, but its imposing presence did not detract from the natural beauty of the night sky. The elders and everyone else in the Bastion were horrified, and Essa didn''t blame them for that. The thing was nearly the size of Rehtyna; the moon itself, but Essa still didn''t think it was going to do anything. It had been up there all day and was just sitting there. Likely just enjoying the view as she was... or maybe it was a new moon? With that blocky shape she doubted it, but it could also be one of the stars, come to pay Rehtyna a visit.


    Being an elf, she¡¯d be able to enjoy this view for eternity¡­ unless she died of unnatural means. An uncomfortable thought, best to turn her attention to something less anxiety inducing. Like her adorable little sister. Those big glassy gray eyes were those of their father, and Essa also shared that trait. If they had been around the same age, they likely could have passed as twins, but Essa was in her twenty-ninth year.


    She was an adult, but twenty-nine was still considered by nearly everyone in the Bastion to be a mere child. It was really irritating, after all-


    ¡°But the moon monster sent some of the stars falling,¡± Lya said, interrupting her thoughts.


    Essa shrugged, laying back down on the grass to stare at the sky. ¡°Just a meteor shower. They happen sometimes¡­¡±


    As she finished saying that, she caught sight of a new star in the sky¡­ one that was growing, and fast. Essa sat up again, staring as the star shone brighter and brighter, grabbing Lya and holding her tight. Lya herself was just as mystified by the growing star, and she did nothing else but point at it. Then, much to Essa''s horror, the star screamed, the horrifying shriek growing louder and louder as it continued to grow in size.


    That¡¯s when she began running, turning away from the screaming star while clutching her little sister as hard as she could. Lya began weeping as they passed into the woods, weaving between trees as she went. Then, the star collided with the forest, shaking her to her core and sending her ears ringing. Chunks of moist dirt and burning hunks of wood flew, some barely missing Essa as she ran screaming in terror. The fae inhabiting the surrounding trees all abandoned their homes to escape death, multicolored ribbons of light flowing high into the air to avoid the crushing demise that sped towards them.


    She did not look back, she did not stop, she kept running until she was back in the Bastion, safe with her sister and away from the screaming star.


    She knew that she would have to tell the elders about this¡­ they had to know what to do about this, and if they didn''t, then the Harkhall surely would. Though even if Essa went to the Harkhall, she knew that the Harkmother must already know about the star crashing into the Faewood. Essa could guess that night-watch captain Muro would send one of his best to go and investigate the star, if he simply didn¡¯t just go himself.

 Chapter Two: Landing

    Lance stared in awe as the star fell towards the Faewood. Earlier in the small hours of the morning, the thing that had appeared next to Rehtyna had sent stars falling to Ahkoolis, though thankfully none had crashed in the Faewood to her knowledge. Were they just simple meteors, or something else entirely? She hoped that it was the former, Lance¡¯s mind went to scary places when she thought too hard on these falling stars and what they could be. What if this was how Pillar-Born came to Ahkoolis in the final days of an age? An unsettling thought, one she¡¯d have to report to the Hall immediately should it turn out to be true. Lance was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t related in any way to Pillar-Born¡­ but she could not know for certain.


    Lance did not think anyone in the Bastion had any real idea as to what these falling stars were, besides a simple meteor shower, even the Harkhall claimed that it was nothing more than the heavens shedding their heavy tears. Indeed, were it not for the appearance of that mass next to the moon, most people would have likely written it off as just a simple shower, as opposed to the end of the world.


    The Harkhall had made sure that the watchers would keep a tighter¡­ er, watch on things until the people calmed down. There were already talks of the ¡®End Times¡¯ or ¡®Decuma¡¯s Death¡¯ on the mouths of every elf in the Bastion.


    Really, it was as if they expected Pillar-Born to simply sprout up from the ground because of this ¡®moon monster¡¯. Absolutely ridiculous. Yet, who was to say? Lance had just been contemplating Pillar-Born falling out of the sky after all. Maybe Pillar-Born would simply sprout up from the earth at the appearance of this horrific creature. Was this truly one of the signs that this age would end? Lance dearly hoped not, the last thing she wanted to do was prowl about the coming wastelands¡­ assuming that she would even survive the Ascension. Most people wouldn¡¯t, if the histories were accurate. What histories remained from the previous ages anyhow. She adjusted herself on the branch, night-captain Muro just below her on another branch as he too observed the falling star, perched like an owl ready to take flight.


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna hit the Faewood.¡± Lance told him, pushing her long black hair back into her dark hood ¡°Not anywhere important, but in our forest nonetheless.¡±


    In the direction it was falling¡­ it looked like it might hit the very edge of the woods, perhaps in the sparse wilderness between the Faewood and Akan-Dar. That would be at least a day¡¯s worth of running before she and Muro could reach it, assuming they didn¡¯t run into problems along the way in the form of human poachers or un-sanctioned Akan-Dari merchants. Even without such issues, the trek to the estimated crash site would take up much time, even for them.


    Muro would make the journey if he had to though. Lance had a feeling that if that star were to crash anywhere in the Faewood, Muro would immediately head for the site, no matter how long it took to reach it. Not that Lance was any different, she wanted to get a look at one of these stars herself.


    Maybe if Lance saw that it was indeed nothing special, she could scrub these ludicrous thoughts of ¡®Pillar-Born¡¯ and the ¡®End-Times¡¯ from her thoughts. By the Pillars, she dearly hoped that this was nothing to fret over¡­


    The stars had begun falling from the sky during the early hours of the morning, streaking off across the horizon towards the more¡­ harsh lands of Ahkoolis. A fair few of them possibly landed in the Fiendwood¡­ If they did, the Fiendwood could have those stars. The journey past the Fiendwall and over the Greatbridge into the true Fiendwood was simply too dangerous a trip to make. It would be unwise to seek them out in such a wasteland, especially since the only reason she would go would be to just sate her curiosity. A foolish thought that, going into Kazon¡¯s realm.


    ¡°It might not land here.¡± Muro said after a moment, scrunching his brow ¡°But if it does, we¡¯ll go look into it.¡±


    Lance nodded, though Muro didn¡¯t see it, his eyes firmly on the still-falling star. It was pitch dark in the Faewood tonight, making the equally black cloaks they wore nearly indistinguishable from the all-encompassing night. As Watchers, that was what was needed, to not be seen. If she hadn¡¯t received the proper training from Muro, Lance may not have ever been able to see him in this blackness.


    Nor the shape of another night-watcher approaching from the ground. From the green light of Rehtyna, Lance was able to make out his eyes above that mask, those bright blues wide with terror.


    ¡°Captain! Is that you up there!? I have an urgent report!¡± The man shouted as he began climbing the tree.


    The elven newcomer moved as a shadow on the forest floor, still difficult to see despite being out in the open. His head swiveled to and fro, as if looking to see if he had been pursued before climbing up the tree quickly. The watcher scrambled as if a pack of wolves were scraping up the bark to reach him. The elf finally reached Muro¡¯s branch, perching next to the captain with fear shining through his eyes as he scanned the forest floor.


    It was impressive that the watcher had been able to pick Muro out from the dark, especially to call him by name¡­ though Muro always let his watchers know the general area of the Faewood where they could find him each shift. The fact that Muro was built more like a human than an elf likely helped in that, most elves were slighter than humans, but Muro was at least just as broad as a human blacksmith. The captain turned his head to the elf and simply nodded before the falling star suddenly began shrieking through the sky.


    Lance nearly jumped, it was as if it had suddenly decided of its own will to change its course¡­ It was almost like it was being steered, though that just could not be¡­


    She goggled when the star finally smashed into the Faewood, far off toward the dark horizon. Thankfully that was well away from the Bastion, but many elves loved to explore the wilderness outside the safety of the Bastion¡¯s root wall. Hopefully none had been present where that thing had landed¡­ and hopefully none of the trees had been killed by the impact.


    ¡°By the Pillars!¡± The new arrival shouted in terror before Muro silenced him with a look.


    ¡°You, give me what you have to say, and make it fast. Lance, find where that thing crashed and investigate it. Report what you find to either me or the Harkhall, if I¡¯m not available.¡± Muro said quickly, standing tall on his branch.


    The new elf looked shocked for a moment, looking around but not spotting Lance on her perch. She always took pride in how perfectly hidden she could make herself¡­ only Muro had ever been able to make her out in the darkness. Lance took a deep breath before hopping off the branch, not sparing another word for the captain before darting off towards the crash site.


    Lance knew these woods like the back of her hands, if her guess was right, it crashed either in or around a  large break in the trees. Excitement filled her as she darted towards where the site must have been located. It had been so long since anything interesting had happened in these woods, killing the rare lesser-fiend and warding off Akan-Dari cutthroats got boring after two-hundred years.


    This was something entirely new, and Lance wouldn¡¯t skip out on the chance to kill her boredom. Not that she would have defied Muro¡¯s word of course, it was just that the occupation of watcher had become a bit¡­ stale. She loved being a night-watcher of course, but two-hundred years of practicing the same occupation was bound to become boring eventually. Not that Lance would want to do anything else as a job.


    Watcher was her place in elven society, Lance had no interest whatsoever in being a Tree-Hunter, Bramble-Guard, Tree-Bringer, or any of the other countless jobs she could take up in place of this one. Truly, she loved and adored the watch¡­


    Yet¡­ she wanted a break. Two-hundred years and she hadn¡¯t taken a single day off, save for special occasions of course. Perhaps this fallen star would provide her some measure of excitement, and that way she could also sate her curiosity for what these falling stars really were¡­ and after she gave her report back to Muro, Lance would ask to be let on leave for a while. It was time to explore the greater world outside the Faewood, Ahkoolis must have had some sights to see after all.


    Perhaps she could become an adventurer for a few years before returning? That would likely whet her appetite for new things. By time she got back, being a watcher might begin to feel fresh again¡­ at least she hoped so. She again found herself hoping that the moon creature wasn¡¯t a sign of an impending apocalypse, it would be hard for Lance to bring herself to enjoy adventuring if the world was falling apart around her.


    ¡­


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Hoplite had tried to ease the landing, but these shuttles weren¡¯t made for gentle groundings. They were exceptionally sturdy, so he didn¡¯t worry too much about it sustaining any damage. The only downside to this hard landing was that any nearby enemies would hear it from a mile away, possibly more. He supposed that his allies could have as well, but odds were that the Final Kind would find him first. It was safe to assume that the Dragon had pumped out more pods than the Sparrow.


    The grassy clearing he had aimed for was split in twain by the crashing pod, kicking up moist soil and sending thousands of grass blades soaring through the air. He could feel his teeth rattle in his skull from the impact as the shuttle slid deep into the forest. It punched through half a dozen trees and sent them crashing to the forest floor, wooden shrapnel flying before finally, the pod slid to a stop, the nose tilting the last tree it collided with forward at an angle.


    Hoplite stood from his seat as soon as the pod stopped, approaching the sealed metal doors and pressing the keypad next to it. They slid open with a groan as Hoplite grabbed the Magnus, emerging from the pod and scanning the surrounding forest for hostiles. When he spotted none, he eased up, bumping his chin to check for any nearby radio signals. If there were any signals within a ten mile radius, his suit would pick up on and play them automatically, allowing him to switch between each signal it detected. That included any sort of emergency distress beacons that would play from nearby Ternan shuttles. He had turned his own beacon on already, hoping that any nearby allies would be able to pick up on his broadcast.


    He bumped his chin, seeing a display pop up in the corner of his screen that read: NO SIGNAL. No beacons, and as for any potential radio signals... Unfortunately, all that could be heard was static. Perhaps these tall trees were causing interference? Perhaps they were¡­ Unless there were simply no signals to pick up on. Hoplite supposed that he could try and reach the top of one of these tall trees, but the sheer weight of his suit would break most branches if he tried to climb them.


    He could always take the suit off¡­ but without the assembler, it would be incredibly difficult and time consuming to put it back on by himself. Hoplite knew that eventually, he would need to remove the armor in order to take care of his more human needs. The Phalanx was built for engaging in and ending conflicts relatively quickly, not for long missions behind enemy lines, such as the other models that Hoplites utilized. It had no built-in system for waste disposal, a most unfortunate design flaw, given his current situation.


    Hopefully a combat engineer would have made it planet-side, surely they would be able to reattach his armor easily once it had to be removed. In truth, having any extra pair of hands to help him with removing the Phalanx would do, but an engineer would be preferable. Hoplite was sure that he¡¯d find one eventually, it was just a matter of rendezvousing with Ternan personnel¡­ He scrunched up his brow as he made his way back toward the drop pod, an unsettling thought occurring to him.


    They had all evacuated hours before Hoplite had made it to the surface, and depending on this world''s rotation, they could all be on the opposite side of the planet. Hot frustration bubbled up within him, but he quickly bottled it. Hoplite couldn¡¯t allow himself to feel that way, he had to begin searching for his fellow soldiers and frustration would only serve to frustrate him.


    The forest around him was buzzing with life, fireflies floated through the air, illuminating small portions of these dark woods. Crickets and frogs both sounded off with croaks and chirps seemingly in tune with one another. The surrounding trees were deciduous and tall, each one easily reaching over sixty feet in height. From the light of the fireflies, he could see the deep green hue of their broad leaves. A light breeze blew through the forest, shifting the horribly familiar leaves.


    Frogs? Fireflies? Crickets?


    These trees and particular species of grass?


    They were all from Earth. Hoplite had been trained on the homeworld, so he had become familiar with the flora and fauna inhabiting it. What were these doing here on a backwater world with no orbital defense stations? This couldn¡¯t be a human colony, there wasn¡¯t even a token defense fleet around it¡­


    But how else could this be explained? Perhaps there had been the beginnings of a colony here, but they only got as far as terraforming before they had to leave. Maybe the Final Kind found this fledgling colony and had destroyed it? No, that couldn¡¯t be it. They would be colonizing this world instead if they had. A lot of habitable worlds shared a common template when it came to lifeforms, perhaps these weren¡¯t all exactly from Earth. There could be differences that he couldn¡¯t spot on the surface.


    He would think more about this another time. For now, he would just concentrate on exploring the surrounding forest. He returned to the pod, grabbing extra ammo for his weapons and stuffing them in his tac pouches just in case of a prolonged firefight. After that, Hoplite re-emerged, sealing the pod doors shut behind him.


    Time to get started.


    He began heading south, in the direction the pod was facing. As he passed through the trees he kept his eyes peeled, one eye looking through each camera as he went. As he passed each tree, he lightly marred its surface with his Sectis knife. He was intentionally moving in a straight line so he could easily head back to the pod if need be, but it always paid to play it safe. If somehow he ended up losing his way, he could simply follow the marked trees all the way back no problem.


    He went on like that for an hour, keeping a brisk pace and only spotting nocturnal forest critters. Nocturnal forest critters that were from Earth. Hoplite internally chastised himself, that would be an issue for later. No hostiles for at least an hour south, time to run back and repeat this in each direction-


    There, displayed on his back camera.


    A humanoid shadow peered down on him from a branch high above him, almost out of his camera''s view. Whatever it was, it had no idea that Hoplite could see it up there. He was unsettled to realize that, if the shadow hadn¡¯t moved, Hoplite likely wouldn¡¯t have been able to distinguish it from the blackness above. The leaves of the trees had blocked out most of the green moonlight from the forest below. He had only been able to see the thing after the branch it was moving across ever so slightly shifted beneath its weight. Hoplite turned, aiming his shotgun up at the exact position of the thing, finger on the trigger.


    ¡°Identify.¡± Hoplite ordered.


    The shadow didn¡¯t reply, instead stiffening to blend in with the surrounding darkness. Which it did to great effect. He bumped his chin, activating his thermals and seeing a humanoid shape, crouching high on a thin branch above. Didn''t seem to be a creature from the Final Kind, the shape was simply far too human. Not that there weren''t traitors to Terna within the Final Kind''s ranks of course, rare as they might be.


    ¡°Identify or I will open fire in three, two-¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± A muffled voice shouted from above.


    Hoplite removed his finger from the trigger, but kept the Magnus firmly trained on the stranger. Was it someone from the Sparrow, or the hypothetical lost colony? He needed answers and he was going to get them.


    ¡°Down here now.¡± Hoplite ordered, tone commanding.


    The man then dropped to the forest floor, landing cleanly on both legs without shattering them. Did this person have reinforced bones? A normal human couldn¡¯t drop from such a height without at least breaking something¡­ Hoplite bumped his chin, turning off the thermals and activating his flashlight to illuminate the stranger, who gasped in terror as he was engulfed by the brightness.


    ¡°You said you wouldn¡¯t open your fire upon me!¡± The man shouted, scrambling back while raising his hands over his eyes.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± Hoplite said simply.


    He was a tall man, clad in black cloth that covered him head to toe, leaving only his bright green eyes visible. Hoplite felt relieved to see another human, but why had this person tried to sneak up on him? Did he think that Hoplite was Final Kind? It was really dark beneath these trees, perhaps he had mistaken Hoplite for a yugoro in the dark.


    ¡°Identify.¡± Hoplite ordered.


    ¡°L-Lance Trinkit.¡± The man squeaked, lowering his hands but maintaining a tense posture.


    Lance Trinkit? What a strange name.


    ¡°Rank?¡± Hoplite asked, lowering his Magnus and standing at rest.


    ¡°Rank?¡± Lance asked, his thin dark brows creasing slightly ¡°I¡­ I just watch.¡±


    Hoplite stared.


    ¡°So you¡¯re a civilian?¡± Hoplite asked, approaching Lance slowly.


    He didn''t want to scare him away if he was a civilian, they tended to run away from Hoplite if he got too close too quickly. Lance stood his ground thankfully, staring up at Hoplite''s helmet with slightly shaking legs. They were merely five feet apart now, the difference in height now apparent to Lance, who had to crane his head far back to look into Hoplite¡¯s helmet.


    ¡°I-well yes but not-¡± Lance started.


    ¡°What happened to your colony?¡± Hoplite asked ¡°Did the Final Kind destroy your ships? Why didn¡¯t they wipe you all out afterwards?¡±


    ¡°...Colony? Final Kind?¡± Lance asked ¡°Golem, I know not what you speak of, I was ordered to investigate the falling star and came upon you by chance. Ancient one, why do you walk again?¡±


    ¡°Golem?¡± Hoplite asked, his own brows knitting together in thought.


    ¡°Are you not a golem?¡± Lance asked ¡°What are you?¡±


    ¡°A Hoplite.¡± He replied ¡°Take me to who¡¯s in charge.¡± He ordered.


    ¡°I cannot simply take a golem-¡± Lance began.


    ¡°Now.¡± Hoplite ordered again, voice low and dangerous.

 Chapter Three: Fiends

    Lance led Hoplite through the forest, the chorus of insects and animals helping to dim the deafening silence between the two men. The green moon overhead hung full, its light shining down between the thick leaves above. Despite the added light from the moon, however, the woods still seemed as dark as pitch. The thick foliage above served to block most of the moonlight from reaching the forest floor.


    The civilian had thankfully not attempted to make any small talk as they walked, seemingly content to remain as silent as Hoplite. Whoever Lance was, it was clear to Hoplite that he knew these woods like the back of his hand. Even with the darkness of the forest Lance seemed to recognize landmarks that seemed insignificant to Hoplite''s greater perception¡­


    Lance would nod to a rock here, stare at a tree there and simply continue on as if prowling the halls of his own home. This ¡®watcher¡¯ classification and Lance¡¯s state of dress implied that he patrolled these woods for his superiors, whoever they may be.


    Surely these humans had to have access to bionics, for how else would Lance have been able to leap off that branch without breaking anything? At the minimum Lance would have reinforced joints¡­ but then why was his movement so smooth? Civilian augmentations usually had downsides; reinforced joints caused stiff movement, synaptic stimulators caused random bouts of violent twitching, and adrenaline pumps came with a high risk of heart failure if overused, and that was just to name a few.


    Of course, those were just civilian augmentations, military-grade augs performed better and lasted a lifetime¡­ and even compared to those, Hoplite¡¯s own bionics were superior in every way. So why was it that Lance¡¯s walk was smooth and not jagged like a cheap labor droid? Was there a military installation on this world? Perhaps Hoplite should begin asking questions instead of letting this silence drag on, despite his preference for it.


    ¡°What kind of augmentations do you have installed?¡± Hoplite asked, causing Lance to nearly jump free of his boots.


    He took a breath and turned back to Hoplite, his green eyes conveying confusion as they both halted their march.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Lance asked, his tone confused.


    It was possible that -if he was somehow unaugmented- that Lance had never heard of bionics. They weren¡¯t commonplace among civilians and only a few soldiers were chosen to receive military-grade ones. It was also likely that this world had been cut off from greater humanity since before bionics became more widespread. If Lance wasn¡¯t augmented though, how had he withstood that fall? Hoplite supposed that this world could have a lighter gravity than normal, but it certainly felt Earth standard.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have reinforced joints?¡± Hoplite asked, continuing to walk.


    Lance then turned, continuing his lead as they conversed.


    ¡°No?¡± Lance said, still seemingly confused ¡°I know not what you mean.¡±


    For a man, Lance¡¯s voice was unnaturally high-pitched, Hoplite realized. Well, he was definitely on the slighter side despite his decent height, so the higher pitch wasn¡¯t too strange.


    ¡°When you fell from that tree,¡± Hoplite said ¡°You didn¡¯t break anything.¡±


    ¡°Well of course not, I am what I am.¡± Lance said simply.


    ¡°The human body cannot sustain a fall like that without injury unless augmented.¡± Hoplite replied matter of factly.


    Lance slowed his pace, turning to look at Hoplite with brows creased ¡°Ancient one, do you think that I¡¯m a-¡±


    Whatever Lance had been about to say was cut off when Hoplite quickly turned his back to him, aiming the Magnus at a tree. Out of his back camera Hoplite had spotted a shadow dart between a pair of trees, silent as a whisper. Another one of these watchers perhaps? Or something more nefarious?


    ¡°I know you¡¯re there.¡± Hoplite said, mustering up all the menace in his voice as he could ¡°Come out now or I will open fire.¡±


    ¡°Did you hear something?¡± Lance asked, stepping closer to Hoplite and drawing a pair of broad daggers from his belt.


    As if on cue, a small chittering creature stepped out from behind the tree. Hoplite shone his light upon it, revealing a disgusting monstrosity with crawling, warty pink flesh and dead milky white eyes. The dripping thing was the size of a large dog, its muzzle open to reveal two sets of jagged rotting teeth. It lacked any kind of hair, leaving the countless bubbling blisters and pustules on full display, much to Hoplite''s displeasure. This dog mutant disgusted him.


    The creature lunged for Hoplite then, salivating maw open to bite down on his leg. Hoplite reared his leg back from the bite, and calmly lashed out, kicking the mutant in the skull. Its head exploded into a pinkish miasma, sending the corpse flying back and splattering rotting gray matter all across the forest floor. He saw Lance from his back camera step away from the carnage, retching as he fell to his knees and undid his black mask¡­


    To reveal a distinctly feminine face.


    Hoplite blinked in surprise. He could have sworn that Lance had been a man¡­ He took a second to re-examine Lance, seeing that yes, there were indeed curves there; hidden as they may be beneath the thick dark clothing. He briefly berated himself for not being able to tell the difference before he realized that this information changed nothing about his current objective. Lance''s face was pale, with high cheekbones and a small nose set over a pair of full lips and a tapering chin. She vomited on the dirt, spitting and cursing in a way that reminded him of how the marines on board the Sparrow spoke to one another. She looked up to him, wiping her mouth clean with her wrist and struggling to her feet. Lance lifted up her mask once again, leaving only her bright green eyes visible.


    ¡°This is bad¡­¡± She said, staring at the rotting corpse of the mutant ¡°They¡¯ve never gotten this far into the Faewood¡­¡±


    ¡°What are they?¡± Hoplite asked, scanning the surrounding forest via his thermals.


    ¡°You must be from farther up north, whatever you are, to not have heard of the fiends.¡±


    ¡°What are fiends?¡± Hoplite asked.


    The colony of this world clearly had a mutant problem. He couldn¡¯t tell if this creature was the result of radiation or genetic manipulation. Those powerful jaws would have likely torn into Lance easily, he¡¯d need to be ready to intercept any further hostiles before they reached her. Had that thing managed to sink its rotten teeth into her, that would have been the end.


    ¡°The risen dead,¡± She answered, breaking into a run and gesturing for him to follow ¡°At least these lesser ones are... We have to hurry, there¡¯ll be more of them around here soon and I have to warn my people.¡±


    Hoplite easily kept pace with Lance, scanning the forest for any movement from these ¡®risen dead¡¯. At first, she seemed to be holding back from running at her full speed, but quickly upped her pace once she realized that he had been easily keeping pace right behind her. He wasn¡¯t sure why she had referred to these ¡®fiends¡¯ as the risen dead; mutation didn¡¯t reanimate living things. Certainly, it had appeared to be a dead thing walking, but corpses didn¡¯t have the capability to move.


    That pink miasma was something he had never seen however¡­ Was it some kind of cloud of nano-machines? Those were incredibly rare and unless one had authorization from the First Arm, they were absolutely illegal, but if anything could puppet a corpse and make it mobile, it would be nano-tech. Yet Hoplite sincerely doubted that these people had access to that kind of tech if they didn¡¯t even have bionics¡­


    After a few minutes of uninterrupted sprinting, Hoplite saw a group of three fast-moving orange blob creatures gaining on them from his rear thermal camera. They snarled and kicked up small clouds of dirt and grass as they approached on four legs. Soon, he was able to make out more details on the fiends as they further closed the distance. The same as the first fiend he had killed, four-legged rotting canine mutants, still looking akin to orange blobs on his thermals. Small pieces of fetid flesh fell from their bodies as they ran, revealing sections of yellowed bone and exposed intestines here and there. Hoplite could easily outrun these things if he had really wanted to, but he didn¡¯t want to leave the civilian behind to fend for herself. It shouldn¡¯t be a problem dispatching them anyway. He slid to a halt and quickly pivoted, aiming his shotgun at the approaching fiends and pulling the trigger.


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    The creatures had been very close together when Hoplite had opened fire, the shot rendering the three fiends into nothing but a pile of rotting goop. Lance dropped her dagger, clutching her ears as the sound of the blast echoed through the forest like thunder. The shot punched through the trees, sending shards of wood flying through the air before the rounds finally buried themselves either within the bark of the trees or a few feet deep in the dirt. The strange pink miasma flowed from the holes created in the fiends, and for a brief instant, Hoplite could swear that an almost¡­ demonic face had formed in the colorful mist to glare at him. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, leaving him questioning if it had actually been there.


    Surely not¡­ it had just been his imagination. There was no such thing as the supernatural, the cloud had just happened to form the image of a face based on the pattern of the swirling mist emerging from the bullet holes.


    Lance turned to him, still clutching her ears as she saw what his shotgun had wrought. Hoplite then turned around, running to her as fast as he was able. He needed to kill it now. Lance¡¯s eyes widened in terror as he bore down on her, fist raised to deliver a killing strike. She fell on her rear, hands raised in anticipation of the blow to come. He swung then, his massive fist crashing into the skull of a fourth fiend that had been mid-lunge. His punch went straight through the dog-like creature''s skull, his fist connecting with the roof of the fiend¡¯s open mouth.


    It slid down his forearm with a sickening squelch of brain matter, latched on like a worm on a hook. Lance had screamed when he swung, shutting her eyes and looking away when his fist had cratered the fiend¡¯s head. Probably a good thing, considering the brown fluid and bits of brain dripping down on top of her. When she looked up and saw what hung just over her head, she scrambled away, retching again as the pink miasma flowed over her.


    Whatever this pink mist was, it had to smell horrible to prompt that kind of reaction. Thankfully his suit could filter out the stench, but he had been trained to ignore such smells should his suit fail him. Even if it did fail him, the air filter implanted in his throat would automatically purify any airborne contaminants. Hoplite checked his cameras for any more incoming hostiles, but saw no more, at least not yet. The sound of his shotgun would have alerted any more fiends in the area to their location, if he was going to get Lance safely back to her home, then he couldn¡¯t afford to stay at her pace.


    He then scooped Lance up from the ground with his free hand as she finished retching, the woman gasping with surprise. She struggled for a brief instant before he started running, picking up more and more speed as he went. Soon, it was all she could do to not clutch onto him for dear life.


    ¡°Just- ah just go straight ahead until you see the Bastion!¡± She shouted as if she couldn¡¯t even hear her own voice.


    Well, she had just heard the equivalent of a grenade exploding right next to her ear, she likely couldn¡¯t hear anything at the moment. Hoplite didn¡¯t know what this Bastion looked like, but he had a feeling he would know it when he saw it. He ran faster, kicking up chunks of moist dirt behind him as he went. Lance squealed as he reached fifty miles per hour, the servos in his armor and legs working in tandem to speed his flight.


    He had to carefully weave between trees and hop over rocks to avoid splattering Lance by accident. Normally he wasn¡¯t quite this careful in the fridge suit when he reached top speed, but if he made any kind of collision right now while holding Lance she would die instantly. Thankfully he didn¡¯t have to maintain this level of caution for that long, as he came upon what had to be the Bastion¡­


    He slowed his approach as he and Lance came upon a massive wall of gnarled roots. Several thousand arm-thick ones overlapped one another with the pattern only broken by a man-made dark-iron palisade gate in its center. The root wall had to be well over fifty meters in height at its lowest point and it stretched in either direction farther than he could see.


    This alone would have been a baffling sight¡­ but there was more to this strange construct. These roots writhed and stretched over one another, barely covering a deep emerald glow from within the root wall. This hue illuminated the whole of the Bastion from bottom to top, glowing like a dim beacon in the dark. What sort of tech did these lost colonists have if they could manipulate plant life in this way? Hoplite had been to dozens of worlds over the last two-hundred years, and he had never seen anything like this.


    He knew that there were some incredibly talented people in the milky-way that were capable of growing plant life to be shaped in bizarre and unorthodox ways¡­ but he wasn¡¯t sure if any of them could even recreate even a fraction of this achievement. He then set Lance down, her legs shaking as she braced against him, wiping sweat from her brow.


    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­¡± She huffed ¡°Never seen a construct, not even a golem, move as fast as you. What mage binds you?¡± She asked, looking up at him.


    ¡°Mage? Construct? I¡¯m a Hoplite, not a machine.¡± He told her ¡°We need to get moving and warn the other colonists.¡±


    Lance then took a deep breath, standing up straight and looking at him with a scrunched brow before yelling ¡°What?¡± her brow scrunched and eyes narrowed.


    Her ears couldn¡¯t still be ringing that bad, right? Hoplite shook his head, pointing to the gate and making a bee-line for it, Lance trailing just behind him.


    ¡°They need to see me first, they won¡¯t let you in unless I say you mean no harm.¡± Lance said loudly, pulling up in front of him as they neared the palisade.


    Why would they not let him in without Lance¡¯s say so? He was military personnel and this was an emergency. If they denied him access then he would have to use force to get in. Hoplite needed to warn the colonists of the fiends and then use any comms equipment they might have to establish contact with the survivors of the Sparrow.


    Two men -and they were certainly men this time- stood on the opposite side of the gate, clad in some kind of ornate combat armor. It was a suit of sleek cobalt metal, the interlocking plates engraved with ornate images of leaves and feathers. The green glow of the root wall overhead lit the guard''s faces, and Hoplite could only describe them as¡­ What had that one older marine called the younger one with the long wavy hair?


    Ah yes, pretty boy. They didn¡¯t look like soldiers at all. These two had that same kind of long flowing hair, the kind that covered their ears on the way down to their shoulders. This was technically allowed in Eighth Arm military branches, but doing so opened the common soldiery up for mockery from their more traditionally cut colleagues. Their faces were completely smooth, with nary a wrinkle or scar on them. Where were their combat helmets? He looked, seeing that both men cradled open-faced metal helmets in one arm while clutching what appeared to be¡­


    Why were these soldiers only using spears!? Where were their battle-rifles? Did they think that a spear would be enough to stop a charging yugoro?


    As Lance approached the gate, Hoplite''s mind ran at a top speed. If these colonists only had spears that could only mean that they had lost any means to manufacture ammo and had to resort to more primitive means for survival. After all, when he first encountered Lance in the forest she didn¡¯t even have a pistol, just a couple of daggers. Those hadn¡¯t been factory-made combat knives; they looked hand-made, just like the ornate plumed spears the two guards wielded.


    The ground here before the gate was just well-trampled dirt, nothing grew in this little tunnel besides a stray weed here and there. From what he could see from behind this palisade, the forest simply continued on, unbroken by any sort of road or buildings. Wait a second¡­ he noticed as one of the trees behind the palisade began¡­ moving. It seemingly uprooted itself, and on writhing green glowing roots, scampered along the forest floor like some kind of deep sea octopus.


    Hoplite saw what appeared to be a balcony, built high up into the side of this creature. A warm orange glow could be seen from a hallway leading from the balcony, like one of those seasonal glow-globes that had been on the Sparrow. He saw a man leaning over the balcony, looking bored as the tree scampered deeper within the forest to parts unknown.


    Never.


    Never in all his time alive had Hoplite seen a creature like that. It was simple, that thing could not actually be a tree. He didn¡¯t know how evolution would cause a creature to take such a form, but that was the only thing he could think of¡­ that or genetic manipulation, which these people most certainly wouldn¡¯t know how to do. These colonists had seemingly tamed these creatures, based on how that man rode atop it without issue.


    Hoplite had been so distracted with the moving tree that he hadn¡¯t noticed that the root wall had begun sucking up the entire palisade with its entangling roots. He almost raised the Magnus to start blasting when one of the roots drooped down a little too close to his helmet before redirecting toward the palisade to assist in the gate''s ascent.


    Would there be any more baffling sights today?


    ¡°You better get running Lance.¡± One of the guards said ¡°The Harkhall will want to hear about this. So many fiends in the Faewood at once¡­? A dire omen.¡± He shook his head, brushing his hair over one of his pointed ears.


    Pointed ears?


    Lance removed her mask then, revealing her face once more and pulling down her hood to reveal a long head of pitch-black hair. She too, bore these deviant ears.


    These colonists¡­


    They were mutants.

 Chapter Four: The Harkhall

    No, not a full on mutant, but at least a deviation of the standard genetic template that was common for humans. Considering that all three of these people had the same kind of mutation, it was safe to assume a majority of the local populace would also possess this minor change in biology.


    But¡­ perhaps the change was deeper beneath the surface? If Lance truly possessed no bionics, then perhaps her skeletal structure was different from standard humans? Thicker bones perhaps? If so, then wouldn¡¯t her limbs be broader than that? Lance and these men didn¡¯t seem any wider than a normal person, in fact, they seemed thinner, more lean.


    ¡°This construct here saved my life.¡± Lance explained to the guards ¡°I deem it safe for its entry if it wishes, and I will take care to ensure it causes no harm.¡±


    The guards looked to one another, sharing a concerned look before turning their attention back to Lance ¡°As the watcher says, their life on the line.¡± One of them said, then they both stepped to the side, holding their spears tall ¡°A real golem¡­ by the Pillars.¡± One of them whispered with an awed stare for Hoplite.


    Lance merely nodded at the words and passed through the open gate wordlessly, with Hoplite following right behind her. The guards'' eyes followed him as he walked through the gate behind Lance, and he could see them turning their heads to stare at his back. If they knew he could still see them by way of his rear camera, would they have still done that? Probably.


    Why would Lance''s life be on the line? Perhaps it was a sort of warning, that if a watcher brought in a malignant stranger, there would be severe consequences. Hoplite would keep that in mind moving forward. A big risk, bringing in a man who had earlier threatened her to comply with his orders. Had she originally planned to lead him into a trap to attempt to neutralize him? That could still be a factor, Hoplite would keep on his guard in case of an ambush. After all, she did say ¡®ensure he would cause no harm.¡¯ The meaning behind those words could be manyfold.


    As they passed into the forest, Hoplite could see the gate re-lower from his rear camera, aided by the prehensile roots. Did they somehow manage to train this creature to do that? How does one domesticate something like this? Would that really keep out the fiends? If these creatures were determined enough, they could likely scale the wall, aided by the many grooves afforded them by the dozens of roots making up its surface¡­ that is unless this wall was capable of repelling climbers. If the roots could drink up a whole gate, why not suck in invaders attempting to climb it? Crushing their bones or whipping them from its surface with its tendrils?


    ¡°The Harkhall will be at the Ilum tree in the center of the Bastion, we¡¯ll get there quicker if we run. Just ignore anyone who stares, we don¡¯t get a lot of visitors with a watcher''s blessing. Even less so when that visitor is a golem.¡± Lance said, breaking into a run ¡°Not that we¡¯ll see a lot of folk out tonight, we elves prefer to wander about during the day¡­ Though the falling star is sure to have stirred a few from their homes.¡±


    Hoplite followed suit, easily keeping her pace as they moved through the woods. Is that what these colonists called themselves? Elves? That was a fictional species wasn¡¯t it? Hoplite distinctly remembered reading a book when he was but a child, a book that held a plethora of fantasy creatures within its pages, including elves. He hadn¡¯t thought about that book in years¡­ he couldn¡¯t quite place a name to it anymore¡­ it had to have been over two-hundred years since he had read it.


    From what he could remember, elves had pointed ears and lean frames, much like Lance and those guards had. Perhaps they had access to that novel and  had decided to name their branch of humanity after the elves? It wasn¡¯t the most ridiculous name he¡¯d seen branches come up with. This colony definitely had to have been lost before first contact with the Final Kind, based on Lance¡¯s initial reaction to him talking about them. She had seemed completely ignorant of what the Final Kind were¡­ perhaps she had misheard him earlier?


    ¡°Have your people made any contact with the Final Kind yet?¡± Hoplite asked her.


    ¡°I know not what you speak of.¡± She replied nearly instantly.


    That pretty much confirmed it. There was a chance that just Lance herself was ignorant of their existence, but that was slim. A lost colony from before the first contact era¡­ these people had to have been alone for over five-hundred years at the very least. Yet they still kept with Jynesian standard, the language they spoke hadn''t deviated at all since losing contact with Terna. An impressive feat, considering how long they had been isolated.


    During their entire sprint to reach the Harkhall, they had passed several dozen moving trees, some of which seemed to actually move out of their path as Lance and Hoplite approached. There were some elves that had been awakened by news of this ¡®falling star¡¯ all gawking at him wide-eyed as he followed after Lance. They were dressed in fine clothing, looking the furthest thing from destitute but not appearing pompous. His earlier hypothesis was confirmed as he saw that all these people bore pointed ears. Unlike Lance, these other elves seemed to have bright blonde hair, so much so they almost seemed to be white. Thankfully none tried to stop them as they made way for this ¡®Ilum tree¡¯.


    At some point he would need to clarify to Lance that this ¡®falling star¡¯ was nothing more than his escape shuttle. For these elves to call it such was¡­ odd. Why not immediately assume it was a meteorite? It was primitive to think that a star could fall. Perhaps these people had regressed more than he initially thought.


    Further and further they went, passing the occasional elf or moving tree, the landscape otherwise unchanging save for the thick roots jutting up from the earth. As they drew closer to the Ilum tree, Hoplite noticed massive roots rising up from the earth in patches, all seemingly leading toward the center of these woods. The most notable thing about these large roots had to be that they bore that very same green glow as the root wall.


    The moving trees didn¡¯t bear this glowing green glow in their own writhing tendrils¡­ were these roots running all the way back to the Bastion? They then entered a clearing at long last, bare of any trees but gently writhing with glowing green roots overtop midnight dark soil. If these were coming from the center, then that must mean that-


    The largest tree Hoplite had ever seen came into view, easily towering over the highest skyscraper. Had there been any clouds in the sky, he doubted he¡¯d be able to see the huge branches high above, their huge leaves casting a massive shadow on the comparably tiny forest below. Despite its size, the tree was almost difficult to see in the night, for its bark was a deep obsidian hue, the green moonlight illuminating its black silhouette. For a moment, he slowed his stride, taking in the immensity of this impossible creature, this pillar of darkness that split the sky in twain. This tree had to be as large- no, larger than the Sparrow. How- how was it even possible that he didn¡¯t see this on entry? In fact, how had he not seen it looming in the night sky? How didn¡¯t he see it from the Sparrow itself while he was in orbit? Perhaps it simply hadn''t been quite that large, but still.


    ¡°Impressive isn¡¯t it?¡± Lance asked ¡°Ancient one, I¡¯m sure even one of you could appreciate the majesty of the Ilum Tree.¡±


    ¡°You said it was a big tree.¡± Hoplite told her, still marveling at the thing.


    ¡°Did I lie?¡± Lance asked with a gesture towards the Ilum tree, a tinge of sarcasm in her tone.


    ¡°No.¡± Hoplite replied.


    How did this creature not destroy all other plant life around it? For a creature of such size to exist here, the surrounding wilderness should be a barren wasteland. How nutrient dense was this soil? Was it an adult version of those moving trees he saw earlier? Were those its young? The questions whirled through his mind uncontrollably, frustrating him until he turned his focus back to the task at hand.


    ¡°How do we reach the Harkhall?¡±


    ¡°It should have happened already¡­¡± She said, slowing to a brisk walk ¡°We still haven¡¯t been taken.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean-¡±


    In a single millisecond everything around them suddenly vanished. The dark night outside had instantly changed into a large brightly lit circular chamber of gnarled brown wood. Shocked, he immediately raised the Magnus, aiming it at the dozens of elves suddenly surrounding his position above him.


    They were all seated in benches that had seemingly been grown from the wood beneath their feet, sitting high above Lance and Hoplite. A glowing yellow crystalline structure pulsed above in the center of the ceiling, suspended by glowing green roots that seemed too thin to hold up the tank-sized crystals weight.


    It had to be around a hundred feet up from where Hoplite stood. If it fell then it would crush him and Lance both, as the crystal''s circumference matched that of the pit they now stood in. It likely wouldn¡¯t kill him, as the Adium plating of the Phalanx armor was sturdy enough to withstand practically anything. The trauma from all that force passing through the suit might prove to be an issue though. Had that been Lance¡¯s plan from the start? To crush Hoplite beneath the weight of that crystal?


    Time seemed to come to a standstill for a moment as Hoplite¡¯s co-processor worked to speed his thinking.


    He would neutralize her after he escaped from this pit, that would be no issue, those walls were easily scalable so long as he built up enough momentum. Hoplite would climb up, eliminate Lance and any other hostiles in the area before capturing the unarmed traitors above. Yet¡­ he hesitated, for just that brief instant. Why would Lance lure him into a trap that would just get her killed as well? After all, there was no easy escape from the deadfall trap above. Perhaps if she hugged the wall?


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    If Lance tried to climb up and out of the pit while telling Hoplite to stay put, then he would know for sure that it was a trap, but until that happened, he¡¯d not open fire¡­ not yet. With that decided, time appeared to resume. All these thoughts had passed through Hoplite¡¯s mind in just that one instant, the Gitmustech co-processor installed in his brain again proving its worth.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± Lance shouted, trying and failing to push the barrel of his gun downward ¡°We¡¯re here, this is the Harkhall!"


    Hoplite wouldn¡¯t remove his finger from the trigger or lower his shotgun until he was absolutely certain that nothing in this chamber was of any immediate danger to him. The fact that Lance did not scamper off towards any of the gnarled walls helped to convince him that this was indeed not a convoluted deadfall trap, but he¡¯d not drop his guard yet.


    The ten elves in the high seats seemed to not care about the weapon Hoplite aimed at them. They were as stony-faced as he himself was, though none would be able to see Hoplite¡¯s expression through the helmet. The golden glow of the crystal illuminated their well-dressed forms, each wearing well-made wool or clinging silks. Hoplite hoped that his shock at being teleported hadn¡¯t been shown through his body language, but he was certain it had, after all¡­


    Teleportation was supposed to be impossible, even for the Final Kind. What could these people be capable of if they could achieve something so utterly unfeasible? He would need to confiscate that equipment, whatever it was, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, it could change the tide in the war.


    A war they had already lost?


    He internally berated himself for the thought. Hoplite was still alive, and so were the humans that escaped the Sparrow. As long as even a few of them remained, the war was still ongoing. He then turned his attention back to the situation at hand.


    A circular wall penned Hoplite and Lance below the elves, who continued to stare down at them disapprovingly. There were ten sets of eyes there, all looking expectant. He then noticed that those disapproving glares were directed at Lance, not himself.


    Lance stared back up at him pleadingly, still trying to bring the barrel of the gun down "Please!" She whispered urgently.


    Hesitantly, he complied, remembering the words those gate guards had spoken to her earlier. Hoplite did not lower his guard though, he would be ready to bring up his shotgun to blast the instant something went awry.


    She nodded thankfully and turned her gaze toward the elves above.


    "I as a watcher of the wood have come to deliver important news." She announced loudly.


    "Out with it then Lancela." A matriarchal elf woman said coldly.


    Matriarchal, but she bore no wrinkles to show as much. It was those bright green eyes that conveyed the impression, showing wisdom beyond her years. Perhaps elves could live longer than normal humans, as in that book he had read as a child? She had horrendously long blonde hair that fell around her seat in waves, spilling over to brush the bare wood beneath her feet. Hoplite couldn''t even imagine the hassle of caring for a tenth of that mop, why had this woman grown it out so long?


    She then looked from Lance to him, her pale green eyes seeming to glow as they took him in from head to foot. Hoplite blinked and visibly shook his head before looking the elf woman over again. She really was a gorgeous woman he supposed¡­ Those thick curves, that perfect symmetrical face, that pale supple skin... The way that tight high-neck silk dress clung to her form... She looked so proper yet so sultry and seductive... Hoplite suddenly felt a wave of dizziness come over him. She truly was the most beautiful woman he had ever-


    Hoplite felt frozen for a millisecond before he was able to finally tear his eyes away from that bright gaze. What on earth was he thinking of? Where had those intrusive thoughts come from? He would need to submit himself to the Seventh Arm if these base urges returned. A Hoplite... Hoplite should not feel that way! The woman seemed taken aback for the briefest of instants before her face resumed that cool stony calm, looking quickly from Hoplite to Lance.


    None of the others spoke.


    "Fiends have come close to the Bastion Harkmother¡­ I swear it on my family and honor, they are no more than a few miles from here." Lance told them, her words slicing through the silence like a razor ¡°We must call the Tongues for aid, even Akan-Dar if we must. If the Fiendwall has fallen, the Death Spiral will spread.¡±


    The Harkhall all looked to each other wide-eyed, some even gasping aloud. Those who had gasped put hands to mouths, looking... embarrassed? For what, Hoplite had no idea, but the Harkmother spared quick withering glances to those who had.


    "Also¡­¡± Lance said, drawing their attention back to her ¡°This golem saved my life and brought me here to deliver this news, I ask to allow it sanctuary until it is ready to move on." Lance told them, gesturing to Hoplite.


    "He." The Harkmother said, crossing her arms "I know for a certainty that this ''golem'' is a human." She said, staring at him "And a strong-minded one at that¡­" She added thoughtfully "My gaze held him no longer than an untrained hand on a slipfish, but the fact it held him at all reveals his true nature. You''ve brought a human into the Harkhall Lancela but at no fault of yours." She continued more sympathetically "Unfortunately¡­ This still means that you must be stripped of rank. We will allow you to stay in the Faewood as you wish, but you will never watch again. Forgive me, I do not wish this upon you, but a mistake of this caliber made by a watcher must be punished. As Draoi decrees."


    Lance went wide-eyed, staring dumbfounded at Hoplite before falling to her knees "That''s not fair¡­ w-we allow men into the Faewood and even the Bastion sometimes¡­" she said, a stutter to her voice as she stared up at the Harkhall. Suddenly, anger flashed in her eyes and seeped into her voice  ¡°I didn¡¯t know he was human, I swear it! Draoi must have decreed something for a situation like this, you cannot strip my place!" She shouted desperately.


    "I do not doubt you¡­ But it is as Foundation commanded millennia ago. The Harkhall does not question the will of the Pillar-Gods Lancela. I am sorry¡­ but you are dead to the watchers now." The Harkmother said with a regretful tinge to her tone "There are other societies you can join, perhaps the Tree-Hunters¡­ or the Bramble-Guard?" She asked, attempting to sound soothing.


    Lance said nothing, merely sitting there and staring up at the gathered members of the Harkhall with disbelief. The other members of the Hall averted their gaze from Lance¡¯s pleading eyes, shame plain on their faces. All except for one. An elf man with blonde hair and fiery red eyes. That elf glared down at Lance with barely contained anger, a large vein bulging on his reddening face as if a hot tube of magma lay just beneath his pale flesh.


    The Harkmother herself actually seemed to be genuinely displeased with this outcome, perhaps there could be a way for Hoplite himself to change things.


    There are certain aspects about him that weren¡¯t technically classified¡­ he could not go into details, else Hoplite would have no choice but to kill every single living being in this room. He had to word this carefully, but first, Hoplite needed to know what these elves had planned for him.


    "What do you intend to do with me?" Hoplite asked in a flat tone.


    "You¡­ Well, there isn''t a specific law for a situation such as this. No human has ever set foot in the Harkhall." She explained "Foundation never told our forefathers a protocol for if this were to happen..." She said, voice trailing off as she placed a finger to her chin, brow furrowed.


    "I''m not completely human." Hoplite told her "So you must restore Lance''s rank."


    Everyone in the chamber stared at the Harkmother, even Lance, who wore a confused expression.


    "My eyes make human men unable to resist my allure, it is how I test¡­ uncertain visitors." She told him "I felt your eyes on me, lustful and hungry as you felt mine on yours."


    "I resisted." He told her. "By your laws, I believe that you must restore her rank."


    Silence passed between the members of the Harkhall, all seeming to stare deeply into one another''s eyes. Why weren¡¯t they saying anything? Another elf; a tall lean fellow with long black hair and smooth features, shot a glance at the Harkmother. They both stared at one another for a long while before finally she smiled.


    ¡°While a pure-blooded human is not allowed by Draoi¡¯s law within this hall¡­ I suppose that one such as you would not count as a full-on human. Geravall tells me you are certainly part man¡­ part something else. By technicality, I rule that Lance keeps her rank as watcher." She said, the relief in her voice seeming genuine.


    ¡°This can not be!¡± The angry red-eyed elf shouted, standing from his bench to glare down at Hoplite.


    He was a short elf, thin with nary a muscle stitched onto his willowy frame. His angry red eyes stared out from beneath a brow that seemed always furrowed in a glare, focused completely on Lance.


    ¡°Even if he possesses the smallest drop of human blood, Foundation has ruled that she must be stripped of rank! You will not bend the rules of our lord Draoi!¡± He shouted, a vein popping on his forehead as his voice echoed through the chamber ¡°Perhaps a new member should be chosen as Speaker, as our good mother is clearly incompetent.¡± The elf spat, his voice laced with flaming venom.


    ¡°You break even the most basic of rules by simply speaking aloud Terlin, do not preach to me about bending rules when you yourself outright break them.¡± The Harkmother replied coolly, lifting a slender brow and smirking as if she were amused ¡°In the millenia that you have served the hall Fire-Eyes, you had always obeyed every rule to perfection, but today you have violated that. Perhaps we should strip you of your undeserved position among us. After all, an elf that acts the child has no place here in the Harkhall¡­ perhaps you should simply stay silent,¡± She emphasized with a cool glare ¡°Else I may decide to begin a new vote as soon as this session is concluded. One that may result in your replacement with someone more¡­ suited to such a mature role.¡±


    Terlin opened his mouth again, but before he could utter another world, the entire hall of elves honed in on the man. Whatever Terlin had been about to say was stuffed back down his throat with an awkward cough. Terlin then averted his gaze from the other elves, his jaw clenched tightly, to the point where Hoplite believed that the elf might just crack a tooth. How this man was ever elected to this seemingly important place amongst elven society, Hoplite did not know.


    Soon after that, the other members of the Hall began staring into one another¡¯s eyes, with Terlin eventually looking up to meet the Harkmother¡¯s. Fiery red met brilliant green and the two glared at one another for a long while. Hoplite was not sure as to what they were doing¡­


    But he was slowly growing irritated with the time this meeting was taking.


    After a few more agonizingly long minutes, the Harkmother finally spoke ¡°It is done. You will retain your rank as watcher, Lancela Trinkit.¡±


    Lance quickly stood, bowing to the Harkmother and then quickly turning to beam up at Hoplite ¡°Thank you Hoplite, I won¡¯t forget this, truly.¡± She whispered with a grateful smile.


    He nodded and looked from Lance; or Lancela, according to the Harkmother, to the dark-haired elf man who must have been Geravall. Clearly these elves were capable of communicating with one another via eye contact alone¡­ or perhaps the eye contact was just something of cultural significance to these people¡­ No, they had to be communicating somehow, else they would have not reached any kind of decision today. Did they all possess matching communication implants?


    More important than this eye-contact communication however was Geravall himself. He had confirmed to the Harkmother that Hoplite was indeed not fully human¡­ but if Geravall knew that¡­


    Then he somehow must have had intel on project CHIMERA.

 Chapter Five: The Harks Request

    Hoplite stared up at Geravall without tilting his helmet in that direction. If the elf somehow knew about project CHIMERA and wasn¡¯t authorized¡­ Well, Hoplite would have no choice if Geravall mentioned it. What would happen after that point was completely out of Hoplite¡¯s hands. Yet, it was impossible that Geravall could have any information about CHIMERA, for the program had begun long after this colony had been lost. There was no use racking his brain now for answers, Hoplite needed to obtain more intel, blundering about in the dark was a fruitless endeavor. He¡¯d just have to see what he could suss out of these elves¡­


    ¡°Now that your previous meeting is concluded,¡± Hoplite began in his standard monotone ¡°I have questions for you.¡±


    ¡°And we you, what is your name sir?¡± The Harkmother asked ¡°I thought I heard Lancela mention it earlier¡­ it is Hoplite, yes?¡±


    Hoplite nodded ¡°Affirmative.¡±


    ¡°It sounds foreign¡­ yet you don¡¯t have an accent, are you from the Blastlands perhaps? Where did you come from?¡± The Harkmother asked, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair behind her pointed ear.


    ¡°I would prefer to keep that classified.¡± Hoplite replied flatly.


    There was no telling how these people would react if Hoplite told them the truth. If they knew that he had come from a so-called ¡®falling-star¡¯ they might cease talks with him completely, maybe even become aggressive, Hoplite was not sure.


    Almost immediately after Hoplite spoke, the elves all began gazing into one another¡¯s eyes, long moments passing between each one before they all honed in to stare at the Harkmother. She looked to each member in turn before finally turning her green gaze down on Hoplite again.


    ¡°Speak your questions.¡± She said, her voice echoing in the otherwise silent chamber.


    "How long have you been out of contact with Terna?" Hoplite asked, tilting his head toward the Harkmother "And do you have any radio equipment that I can utilize?"


    The Harkmother quirked a brow, then turned away from Hoplite, looking a question into the eyes of each of the sitting elves. Each stare held a certain focus, their eyes shifting while maintaining contact. Oddly, the Harkhall seemed to shift between facial expressions as if they were holding a conversation with the Harkmother with just their eyes. Some appeared to be listening intently or shaking their heads as if the Harkmother had asked them a question¡­ It was like she was speaking with each member, yet she said nothing, and neither did anyone else.


    So they had bionic implants installed in their brain that allowed for mental communication¡­ but then, where were the metal discs that should have been filling their temples? Every officer he had seen with that particular bionic all bore those shining metal discs on their temples¡­ perhaps it was a newer model? One that did not require an external access hatch for maintenance?


    On a backwater lost colony from before that bionic was even invented? No, something else was going on here. Clearly they had developed an advanced form of communication with nothing but their eyes. It seemed to be their own kind of sign language, with them somehow being able to decipher meaning through eye movements and facial expressions alone.


    Lance shifted slowly from foot to foot, slowly creeping closer to Hoplite until she was practically standing on his toes, leaning up toward his helmet and cupping a hand around her mouth.


    "They can communicate without speaking." She whispered "It is their way, but they must maintain eye-contact."


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that classified intel you''re providing me?¡± Hoplite asked ¡°You could be punished for telling me this.¡±


    Lance shook her head ¡°Not at all, everyone knows it, but you seem out of the loop. Just wanted to clear up any confusion.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied as Lance backed away once more.


    That confirmed it. It was an incredibly intricate system of communication, but no bionic was involved. How did one learn to read eye movements to communicate so clearly?


    Hoplite shifted his eyes to hers, not moving his head as he did so "You won¡¯t be disciplined if you speak?"


    She shook her head with a small smile "Only if I talk while the Harkmother speaks. Discussion between us is fine as long as we aren''t disruptive."


    "...Affirmative.¡± Hoplite said.


    Lance smiled and Hoplite thought that she was going to back away further, but instead she continued to speak.


    "Thank you again for helping me out." Lance whispered "You didn''t have to go out of your way for me, but you did."


    Hoplite cocked his helmet toward her "I was ignorant of local law and compromised your occupation." He explained simply "It is not necessary for you to be discharged."


    "Well I still feel grateful..." She whispered ¡°So¡­ if you don¡¯t mind me asking you,¡± She said slowly ¡°If you aren¡¯t fully human, what are you?¡±


    ¡°Classified. I will not continue speaking of this.¡± He said curtly.


    CHIMERA was never to be spoken of. It would be fatal if mentioned by name.


    Lance inched away from him ¡°Sorry¡­ I won¡¯t bother you with it friend, if you want to keep it a secret I will not press you.¡± She finished, moving to stand next to him.


    Hoplite''s brow furrowed at the parting words. Friend? It was wrong to treat a Hoplite as such. He was a thing, just as Commander had taught him¡­ nothing more. One did not take a wrench and claim it as a friend, it was no different with a Hoplite.


    ¡°We have not heard of this¡­ Terna you speak of.¡± The Harkmother said, drawing his attention back up to her ¡°Nor do we have this ¡®radio equipment¡¯ you ask after. I do apologize.¡±


    Disappointment filled him but Hoplite stuffed it down. He wouldn¡¯t let them hear it in his tone.


    ¡°Then you have been out of contact for a long time. You are originally from the Ternan empire, we have colonized many worlds.¡± Hoplite explained ¡°You are a colony that lost contact with us hundreds of years ago.¡±


    Hoplite expected questions, or awed gasps as they heard his words. All he got was a few amused looks and shaking heads. They denied it? The plain truth that he had laid right before them? They really had regressed far, but a few hundred years shouldn¡¯t have been enough for them to forget Terna¡­ Right? They are surely Ternan, if not in their way of life, then in the language they spoke.


    ¡°You are from this Terna,¡± The Harkmother began ¡°At least now we know where you are from¡­ You say that these people have colonized different worlds¡­?¡± She asked, letting the question hang for a few seconds before continuing ¡°Tell me, are you from this world?¡±


    So they didn¡¯t outright claim that other worlds didn¡¯t exist. They were at least aware that there were other planetary bodies in space besides this one. Hoplite supposed that he had let it slip earlier that he was from Terna, not this world, but their reaction to this information was not as primitive as Hoplite had suspected it may be. Best to be truthful here, seeing as they weren¡¯t being aggressive about it.


    ¡°No. I am from Earth. ¡± He told them simply ¡°Your homeworld.¡±


    ¡°Very well¡­¡± The Harkmother said, narrowing her eyes at Hoplite as she did so ¡°Hoplite, this world is known as Ahkoolis, can you tell me how it is that you have arrived here?¡±


    ¡°I came from my ship, from next to your moon.¡± Hoplite told them ¡°The one you can see in your orbit was the ship of our enemies, your enemies, the Final Kind.¡±


    ¡°Our enemies?¡± The Harkmother asked ¡°A ship next to the moon? Final Kind?¡±


    The rest of the Harkhall began exchanging looks with one another, shifting again between facial expressions as if they were reacting to spoken words. So they were well and truly ignorant of the Final Kind, of that there could be no doubt now. This colony had to have been lost before First-Contact. After a few moments of this silent communication, the Harkmother spoke again.


    ¡°Your ship¡­ how can it¡­ how does it float next to the moon? And is the larger ship from this¡­ Final Kind, still a danger?¡± The Harkmother asked, her brows slightly creasing above worried eyes.


    He did not feel like explaining the mechanics of space travel to these people, that could come at another time from someone better capable of conveying such information. Hoplite shook his head visibly, causing a few members of the Harkhall and even Lance to let out relieved breathes


    ¡°No, the ship has been neutralized. Final Kind troops may have made it planetside however. Have you encountered any of their forces?¡± He asked the Harkmother.


    Hoplite¡¯s throat was beginning to feel slightly worn from all this speaking¡­ he was not used to it.


    The Harkmother shook her head ¡°No, we have not. What are they?¡±


    ¡°An alien imperium that wants to subjugate humanity, and you by extension.¡± Hoplite told them, maintaining his monotone.


    More looks passed between the hall, then after a few minutes, the Harkmother spoke once more.


    ¡°We will prepare for the event of an encounter with these creatures¡­ You do realize what you are? Where you are?¡±


    ¡°I am a Hoplite, and I¡¯m on a lost Ternan world.¡± Hoplite told her.


    The Harkmother shook her head ¡°No, you are an Outworlder. Geravall tells me that he sees not a drop of Zodd¡¯s blood in you.¡± At the mention of that, Geravall winced.


    It was a small expression, a slight lift of the brows and biting of the cheek. So Geravall did know about CHIMERA¡­? Or had he lied about some of the information that he had provided to the Harkmother? And what was this about Geravall seeing Hoplite¡¯s blood?


    ¡°That can only mean one thing, be you man or some other creature, you are from another realm of existence.¡± She then leaned forward, eyes intent ¡°Tell me Hoplite, were you the star that fell in our forest?¡±


    Hoplite shook his head ¡°Impossible. Different dimensions do not exist, and that was not a star, it was my escape shuttle.¡±


    ¡°It is the only possible explanation for your strange appearance, the odd ¡®ship¡¯ in the sky, and the fact that you do not bear the Blood of Zodd.¡± The Harkmother told him ¡°All the races on Ahkoolis at the beginning of its creation were formed from the infinite Blood of Zodd, the Pillar-God of Might. We have seen your ilk before on this world¡­ though none have appeared in this current age, at least none that we know of anyhow. This ¡®star¡¯ or shuttle as you claim, is clearly otherworldly in origin as well, this too points to your true nature¡± The Harkmother then took a deep breath, giving a long sigh before continuing ¡°I suppose your arrival is a good omen. Outworlders have a long history of benefitting our world when they visit, what history remains of them anyhow. It surely is a sign from the Pillar-Gods that we are headed into a golden age.¡±


    A backwards mythology that had no place in Ternan society. These people would unfortunately have to be re-indoctrinated¡­ at another time. Hoplite would not be the one to conduct the process. He had neither the training or the means at his disposal to conduct re-indoctrination¡­ nor the will to do it to someone else¡­ not after it had happened to him. Personnel more suited to the task would have to take care of it later. Now, this talk of Outworlders could only mean that they indeed did have contact with Ternan personnel at one point, though based on the Harkmother¡¯s talk of ¡®none in this age¡¯ implied that it had been a long while since then. He cocked his head toward Geravall as he asked his own question, taking care to word it in a way that would avoid mention of CHIMERA.


    ¡°How does he know about my¡­ lineage?¡± Hoplite asked.


    ¡°His eyes allow him to see the twisting ladders of the blood.¡± The Harkmother replied immediately and without a drop of sarcasm.


    Hoplite stared. The twisting ladders of the blood? Surely she must mean DNA, but why would she say it like that? More importantly, how could Geravall see Hoplite¡¯s DNA? There was no bionic capable of that. Was he lying about having this alleged ¡®ability¡¯ to avoid mention of CHIMERA? No¡­ The Harkmother hadn¡¯t hesitated before telling Hoplite about it, meaning that this was already established intel between these elves. Hoplite was still certain that this colony had been lost far before CHIMERA had begun but was that really the case? After all, these elves still spoke in fluent Jynesian, meaning that it was likely that not too much time had passed since this colony had been lost¡­ Yet the lack of knowledge about the Final Kind conflicted with this theory, as did the apparent lack of bionics.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    If Geravall really had no way of knowing about CHIMERA, then how was it possible that the elf could see Hoplite¡¯s DNA? The way the Harkmother had spoken of it implied that only Geravall alone was capable of doing this¡­ A question then burned within Hoplite. Why could Geravall do this? How did he do it? Hoplite needed to know.


    ¡°How can he see my blood?¡± Hoplite asked, cocking his helmet back toward the Harkmother.


    ¡°His Dok-ah, or to put it in more¡­human terms, his ¡®eye-magic¡¯ allows him to do so.¡± The Harkmother replied, again with no sarcasm.


    Hoplite shook his head, he would not be drawn into such fancies as ¡®eye-magic¡¯. Unfortunately, at this point in time, Hoplite had no idea how to disprove such a claim¡­ unless these colonists had developed new tech while outside of Terna¡¯s influence? Perhaps¡­ but maybe figuring out that tech should be left to one of the scientists that had been aboard the Sparrow. They would be more capable than Hoplite at deciphering new technology.


    Now then, if this mutated branch had specific rules against humans entering this place, then that must mean that the standard branch of humans still existed somewhere on this planet. Primitive or not, Hoplite desired to make contact with them at some point, hopefully soon depending on what happened here today.


    ¡°Where is the nearest human settlement?¡± Hoplite asked the Harkmother.


    ¡°If you mean to find the largest gathering of humans possible, then you seek¡­ Akan-Dar,¡± The Harkmother said in a borderline withering tone. ¡°It lies far to the west of our forest, all the way to the coast of Faenor; the continent you currently stand upon. There is one other, smaller settlement to the east of here, as well as smaller townships along the way to Akan-Dar. Yet, one such as you would seek Akan-Dar, as that would be where the most important humans on Faenor reside. I do assume that you would like to speak to human¡¯s with authority. You will find them there.¡± She finished in a confident tone.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Hoplite replied ¡°Do they have transportation? Ballistics?¡±


    How far had these humans regressed? Did they still have vehicles and guns, or had they gone back to spears and horses?


    ¡°Yes, they do have ballistas and horses, some of the finest on Ahkoolis in fact, though few would be able to carry you I think.¡± The Harkmother replied ¡°I do mean no offense sir, but you look quite¡­ heavy.¡±


    That practically confirmed the latter. Still though, perhaps they weren¡¯t as backward as these mutants. Maybe they even still knew of Terna, or maybe forces from the Sparrow could be heading there¡­ He almost hung his head but kept it upright. The crew would be more likely to have landed in the east based on the planet''s rotation during the evacuation, not the west. Currently the main objective should be to reunite with the Sparrow¡¯s crew, not re-establish contact with lost colonists. That would be taken care of by those better able to talk sense into the locals.


    ¡°How was it that I was teleported here?¡± Hoplite asked.


    Teleportation had been declared to be physically impossible by top Second Arm scientists¡­ they still had tried of course, but no matter what they did, the Second Arm had never been able to accomplish it. Even the Final Kind with their superior tech were still completely incapable of teleportation. Yet the impossible had happened to Hoplite today, and he would know how.


    ¡°The Hark crystal above,¡± The Harkmother said, sparing a glance for the glowing amber crystal suspended overhead ¡°The Pillar-God, Draoi, formed it for us elves out of the Golden Flame of Foundation. The power of our god draws those with the intent to seek the Harkhall here.¡±


    Hoplite remained silent. Clearly this crystal was really an unidentified element. Somehow, it was capable of teleporting matter and would have to be confiscated¡­ but how would he go about doing that? There were no visible exits to this room and he could think of no safe way to procure the crystal without accidentally damaging it¡­ but teleportation¡­ it could shift the tide of the war.


    A war that Terna had already lost?


    Again he stuffed that invasive thought far into the recesses of his mind. As long as Hoplite was alive, the war was not over. As long as any Ternan fought, the war was not over. Humanity would not lose. He glanced up at the crystal again, not tilting his helmet. There really was no way for him to take it now though, no exits, no safe means of retrieving it¡­ no, it would simply have to remain here for now. There would be personnel better suited to retrieving it at another time¡­


    Hoplite realized he had been having repeating thought processes during this whole meeting. ¡®It will be taken care of later¡¯ ¡®It will remain here for now¡¯ ¡®It would be handled by personnel with more experience in this¡¯. An unsettling thought occurred to him then¡­ What if he was the only personnel left? What if the Sparrow¡¯s crew all died on landing? Either from a violent crash-landing or from the Final Kind?


    He took a deep breath. No, they would be survivors. Hoplite would not give up on that hope. Now, onto the creatures he had killed upon landing¡­


    ¡°What are fiends?¡± Hoplite asked.


    The Harkmother¡¯s eyes fell from him then, and she spoke in an almost mournful tone ¡°Poor souls are they¡­ taken by the Death Spiral curse. Forced to inflict pain they are, though it be not their choice.¡±


    ¡°Are they animated by any kind of nanotech?¡± Hoplite asked immediately after she finished speaking.


    It was a silly question considering who Hoplite spoke to, but he had to ask. The Harkmother¡¯s eyes shot up to Hoplite before then shifting to the other members of the Harkhall, who stared at him as if he were some kind of alien creature¡­ well, he supposed in a strange way, he was. Lance quirked a brow at him then, but didn¡¯t say anything. Clearly Lance had wanted to ask just what nanotech was, but she must have realized that the Harkmother would ask that very question shortly.


    ¡°No¡­ the curse is what drives them. What is this¡­ nanotech?¡± The Harkmother asked, confirming Hoplite¡¯s thought.


    ¡°Microscopic machines.¡± He told her.


    The Harkmother stared with a furrowed brow ¡°So¡­ they are¡­ they are tiny constructs?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite told her with a nod ¡°Nanomachines are thousands of tiny machines working in tandem to achieve a particular function.¡±


    ¡°What mage can bind so many constructs at once? The size of the construct doesn¡¯t matter, every individual animated object takes great effort to bind. The most powerful of mages can bind three at most.¡± The Harkmother asked him, leaning forward in her rooted seat.


    Hoplite then noticed Terlin glaring at him, those red eyes accentuated by popping veins. When he noticed the glare, Hoplite turned his helmet in that direction, meeting that crimson gaze. After a few seconds, Terlin looked away to glare at Lance instead. She didn¡¯t seem to notice the glare at all, her eyes still glued to the Harkmother. Terlin may turn hostile later¡­ Hoplite would be keeping an eye on the red-eyed elf.


    ¡°There¡¯s no magic involved.¡± Hoplite replied sternly, cocking his helmet back to glance up at the Harkmother ¡°Just advanced AI.¡±


    The Harkmother had opened her mouth, likely readying to ask just what an AI was when suddenly, literally out of nowhere based on what he read on his motion tracker; another watcher appeared. Out of thin air he came, his clothing the mirror image of Lance¡¯s with a couple jaw-shaped tears in his outfit. From the looks of it, those bites had barely missed flesh while pulling away the cloth.


    The elf then fell to his knees and rasped ¡°The Fiendwall has fallen! Fiends are pouring through unopposed!¡±


    Everything fell silent, and a cold stillness came over the chamber. Hoplite himself was staring wide-eyed at the sudden appearance of the watcher. There had been no indication that this man was approaching on the motion tracker¡­ Hoplite hadn¡¯t seen him coming with his cameras either... The man had simply popped into existence from nowhere. No, not nowhere, the crystal had teleported him based on what the Harkmother had said. Teleported him not solely based on proximity¡­ but sheerly by intent, from what Hoplite had learned. Was that true? How did the crystal tell the intent of the person wanting to be brought here?


    He had no answer.


    ¡°Lancela. Recite the Watcher¡¯s silence for our earlier meeting.¡± The Harkmother commanded in a voice that brooked no argument.


    Lance then dropped to her knees and said loudly ¡°My lips are sealed by the Golden Flame of Foundation. Nothing from this chamber I have heard will be uttered to anyone save for those currently present until I am given permission by the Harkmother.¡±


    The Harkmother nodded and sighed ¡°I do hope Gali has roused his defenders in time¡­ do you know if those who live in the wall have perished?¡±


    The new elf shook his head as Lance stood ¡°No, I only have heard that fiends are pouring en masse through our forest¡­ I have heard a portion of the wall had just¡­ collapsed, they are heading for the Bastion as we speak! I ran as fast as I could when I got word, and was beset upon by lesser fiends!¡±


    ¡°Then we must mobilize.¡± The Harkmother declared, turning her gaze upon the other elves in the Hall ¡°Every off-duty watcher must take up arms and purge the Faewood of this menace by any means necessary. The Bramble Guard must be rallied and patrols will be doubled. Spread the word!¡± She ordered in a steely tone that captain Stol would have applauded.


    The Harkmother then looked to Hoplite, her eyes intent ¡°Hoplite¡­ you are a warrior yes?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He told her honestly.


    ¡°Then I must ask you to aid in destroying the fiends, they pose a danger to my people and-¡± The Harkmother began.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite repeated, cutting her off.


    The Harkmother stared wide-eyed, whether in shock at being interrupted or at Hoplite¡¯s willingness to fight with no hesitation he did not know. It was simply his role as a Hoplite, he must defend humanity in all its forms from those that would cause harm to it. There was no question to what his answer would have been, at least it was so to Hoplite. These elves truly had no idea what a Hoplite was, otherwise they wouldn¡¯t have asked.


    ¡°I thank you¡­¡± The Harkmother said slowly ¡°I must be honest, I had sought to pressure you into this had you refused.¡± The Harkmother admitted with a sigh ¡°Upon your landing you no doubt had destroyed several of our trees.¡± She continued, Hoplite nodding in confirmation of her accusation. She blinked in surprise ¡°I thank you for not trying to be deceitful. Honesty goes a long way with most members of this Hall, so we thank you.¡±


    If they did decide to try and punish him though, Hoplite would have no choice but to defend himself. He could not allow himself to fall victim to whatever backward laws the elves followed.


    ¡°Normally, this would require a dire punishment, but given your¡­ unique nature as an Outworlder, it is no surprise that you would be completely ignorant of our laws. Even outsiders who had never set foot in the Faewood at the very least know not to harm our trees¡­ However, you were uniquely innocent in your demolition, you simply could not have known.¡± The Harkmother continued, sparing a glare for Terlin as the blonde elf¡¯s face turned a much deeper shade of crimson.


    ¡°There will still be a vote to decide for a certainty, the role of Harkmother is not that of a queen, but I am sure that most other members will find the logic in my words.¡± She told him ¡°I just hope the fae that inhabited those trees fled when they had the chance¡­ Destroying our forest is grounds for harsh punishment, but killing a fae of the wood is a death sentence.¡± She emphasized, holding up a single finger ¡°A tree can not regrow if its fae is slain, they are the very life of our woods.¡± She continued, lowering her finger ¡°Now that your ignorance of their importance has been quashed, you will have no excuses, should it happen again.¡±


    Hoplite said nothing in response. They could have their vote if they wished, but it meant nothing to him. By every single metric, Hoplite was above their laws, and as such would not subject himself to their judgment. There was no such thing as ¡®fae¡¯ or spirits, a tree was just a tree.


    The Harkmother then cleared her throat, turning to Lance ¡°Watch Hoplite.¡± She commanded.


    Lance nodded without hesitation but said nothing, turning to stare at Hoplite. Watch him? Likely they didn¡¯t want Hoplite moving about their territory unsupervised. He would not argue the point, Hoplite just hoped that Lance could keep up with him.


    ¡°I will put you under the command of night captain Muro.¡± The Harkmother said ¡°He is a brilliant tactician and-¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite cut her off ¡°He will not understand how to utilize my capabilities. I will operate to my full capacity without orders from someone who doesn¡¯t understand just what I am.¡±


    The Harkmother seemed to glare at Hoplite a moment before speaking ¡°You will not cut me off again, Hoplite. You will show proper respect to the Harkhall, outworlder or no.¡± She told him in a cold voice like steel ¡°Besides, you do not know our woods. Muro can guide you to where you¡¯ll need to be.¡±


    Lance flinched at hearing that tone and she peered up at Hoplite as if to see if he were injured. It would be against protocol to allow an officer outside of the Eighth Arm to order Hoplite. If he defied protocol¡­ he would have to be re-indoctrinated¡­ Hoplite could not allow that to happen again. The Harkmother did make a good point though¡­ Hoplite didn¡¯t know these woods as well as the locals would have¡­ but then again, if Lance was going to ¡®watch¡¯ him¡­


    ¡°Lance can guide me through the forest.¡± He said ¡°I can¡¯t get lost with her being with me.¡±


    It was true based on how he had seen her move through the woods as if through her own house.


    These words produced a strange reaction from the Harkhall, and especially Lance who stared at him with her jaw agape. She snapped it shut and then looked to the floor, tangling a hand in her long black hair and hiding her face with the other. The Harkmother seemed to be¡­ amused by this based on how she quirked a brow at Lance. Hoplite didn¡¯t understand why those words would provoke such a reaction from them, but at the moment it didn¡¯t really matter. The Harkmother opened her mouth to speak again but Hoplite overrode her.


    ¡°Every second we spend talking,¡± Hoplite began, the ache in his throat giving his voice a more gravelly tone ¡°More fiends come through the Fiendwall. Teleport me out and I will take care of them the best way I can.¡±


    The Harkmother lifted her chin to stare down her nose at Hoplite ¡°Very well. I will not argue when you speak sense. Go, But when we speak here again, you will give the proper courtesy and respect due to this Hall. I thank you for your aid. But again, now that you¡¯re aware,¡± She continued, narrowing her eyes at Hoplite ¡°You will not destroy any more of our trees.¡±


    And just as they had entered the Harkhall, they had left. He and Lance both were teleported back outside, to the massive field of outspread roots in an instant. The Ilum tree loomed tall in the night sky, covering half of the full green moon overhead.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Lance said with a sigh ¡°Since that¡¯s taken care of, I suppose we¡¯re going to be working together to drive off the fiends. Now, the Harkmother said not to destroy any of the trees, just so you know, what she means by that is utter destruction. A few scrapes and nicks here and there won¡¯t be a problem for a fae to recover from, and the tree spirits usually know when it''s time to flee. Avoiding hurting the forest is preferable,¡± She continued with a sigh ¡°But considering your preference for thunder staves, I think it¡¯ll be impossible.¡± She paused, scratching her cheek ¡°Anyway, I have to watch you, meaning I¡¯m partly responsible for any damage you might cause. For both our sakes,¡± She said, gesturing to herself and to Hoplite, ¡°try to mitigate the damage you might cause to our trees. Now¡­¡± She said slowly before drawing two long daggers out from a pair of leather sheaths tied to her waist.


    The metal gleamed in the moonlight and she gave the twin blades a smile, each as long as her forearm ¡°These should do for me¡­ I would ask to borrow one of those thunder staves you have, but frankly? Those things scare me, so I¡¯ll stick with what I know.¡± Lance told him with a wink, sheathing the blades and pointing off toward the horizon ¡°The fiends are likely to be more concentrated in the woods east of the Bastion, considering that the Fiendwall is that way. Shall we go?¡± She asked him.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied.

 Chapter Six: Mutated Misfits

    It was a hot, muggy, and all-around miserable day to be marching through the Faewood in plate armor. Alistair found himself again grateful for the blood-red headband he always had tied around his forehead. It did wonders for soaking up the gallons of sweat that poured from his brow. He had briefly considered shaving bald to help with the particularly brutal heat of this year''s summer¡­ but Alistair simply couldn¡¯t bring himself to cut off his ear-length blonde locks. Besides, if he really did shave it off, by the time winter came, his scalp would surely freeze. Who knew? Maybe hair would never grow there again if he allowed that to happen.


    No, Alistair would rather keep his scalp the way the Pillar-Gods intended. Nice and warm beneath a head of glorious golden hair.


    He then gave a small curse as he stumbled over a twig, nearly falling face-first into a clump of brambles. There weren¡¯t any real trails through the Faewood unfortunately, meaning that this journey had been a truly rough one. It didn¡¯t help that their donkey had been killed by fiends, leaving them to carry everything on their backs.


    ¡°Look,¡± Elum began with a sigh ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that we have to hurry through here, we don¡¯t have the time to go sightseeing in these damn wilds.¡±


    Alistair sighed and nodded in agreement with Elum.


    ¡°You think I don¡¯t know that?¡± Alistair asked ¡°We¡¯ve been keeping on the ¡®path¡¯ this whole journey. Saying ¡®sightseeing¡¯ makes it sound like a grand old time, but trust me, I¡¯m not liking this either.¡±


    Knowing that a fiend could be lurking around every tree or bush didn¡¯t make the journey any more tolerable. The Fiendwall truly must have fallen for so many of the creatures to be prowling about these woods. Thankfully the fiends had thinned out after the first couple days of this trek, but up until this point the fighting had been constant, as if the forest itself had sent all its fallen creatures to bring down any intruders that dare tread upon this faekin-cursed soil. Alistair might have put more stock in that theory had there not been evidence of watchers fighting these beasts as well.


    Watchers were the keepers of the Faewood after all, if they had intended to use fiends to ward off visitors, the watchers wouldn¡¯t be killing them off. Mysterious as the watchers were though, Alistair truly doubted that they¡¯d allow fiends of all things to simply prowl about unopposed.


    ¡°¡®Sight-seeing¡¯¡± Alistair mocked in a high pitch, making a rude gesture to Elum as he did so.


    ¡°Well I know one of us is.¡± Elum said with yet another sigh, giving a lazy wave toward Twindil.


    The half-elf woman was further ahead on the path than the majority of the party, walking through the woods with such a look of wonder on her face that it made Alistair struggle to find her sudden occasional stops aggravating. It wasn¡¯t even as if she took several minutes per stop, all she did was stop to lean over a flower or to place a hand atop a tree trunk. She looked almost¡­ at home.


    Swap the gleaming plate armor and oversized greatsword that Twindil wore with a watchers cloak and some daggers, and she might have looked perfectly at home. Well¡­ maybe not even then. She was a large woman, only shorter than Alistair by a finger and maybe just as strong as he. Her hair was spun gold, almost gleaming in the sunlight seeping down from between the broad leaves overhead. Her human parent must¡¯ve been a massive man¡­ or woman? Twindil did not seem to know herself, but Alistair didn¡¯t want to press the matter. He really wasn¡¯t all too curious about her lineage and he wasn¡¯t sure if it was a sensitive topic for her. Alistair would rather avoid making anyone cry, tears made him uncomfortable.


    ¡°She would sniff every flower in the Faewood and hug every Draoi-cursed tree if we had the time.¡± Elum muttered under his breath, shaking his head as Twindil spotted a particularly large tree, quickly moving up to inspect it for a second before again moving on.


    The crimson-skinned Ifrit likely would have insisted on traipsing about the Faewood just as Twindil did, had there not been urgent matters pressing them forward. Tuji was right on their tail, that freak was only a few days behind them at most. Not only that¡­ but there was also the matter of the score they all had to settle with Kazon in the cursed Fiendwood. Kazon, more so than Tuji, was what forced them into passing through this forest. One couldn¡¯t hope to get to the Fiendwood without first passing through the Faewood¡­ Unless they wanted to make a round-the-world journey across every Greatbridge to take a route through the Blastlands. That would be about two-hundred times more foolish, and Tuji would certainly catch them long before they reached their destination.


    Alistair¡¯s brows knit together in frustration at their pursuit. It wasn¡¯t as if they wouldn¡¯t be able to defeat Tuji if they all worked together¡­ The problem was that a few of them would certainly die in the resulting battle before Tuji could be brought down. Others had tried to take down the madman in the past, their efforts in vain as they lacked the¡­ special talents that Alistair and his friends had. He couldn¡¯t even imagine attempting to battle Tuji without the aid of Foundation¡­ an ability that most people lacked.


    He doubted that these watchers could draw on the raw Golden Flame, or at least none of them could do it to Alistair¡¯s level. He dearly hoped that none of these elves would try and attack Tuji, or else they would surely be killed. What if that mad bastard tried to challenge the watchers? The main reason that he and the party fled from the mad half-orc rather than outright deny the challenge was that there would be no way for any of them to turn it down once it was issued¡­ Not easily, anyhow.


    It was simply a part of their nature, something that couldn¡¯t be simply ignored. These watchers though, they wouldn¡¯t be prone to such a thing¡­ not unless there was one among these sneaky elves that were like Alistair and his friends. He doubted that any normal watcher would outright accept a challenge from the man either, but who was to say?


    After all, Alistair did not know how these watchers did things. Not many people did. He knew that they at least wouldn¡¯t attack on sight¡­ One would have to harm the forest in some way to provoke that kind of response. Poaching was a big one, though Alistair had heard that if someone appeared to be on the brink of starvation, the watchers may let the poaching slide. Wasn¡¯t fair to let someone die of starvation when there were plenty of bunnies hopping about. Yet, maybe that potential rule only applied during the winter months, when the forest could not yield any sort of fruits or berries to pick.


    The watchers wouldn¡¯t let anyone get away with cutting down the trees though, everyone at least knew that much.


    That old elf Theopalu dragging his feet up ahead of Twindil would know better than anyone of course, as he used to be a watcher himself years back. At least that was what the geezer had claimed before they had hired him. Alistair had never before met an elf that had borne wrinkles before having met Theopalu at that tavern in Grayshane. Despite the deeply furrowed wrinkles, however, the old elf bore no silver hairs in his long black locks. Alistair was only in his twenty-fourth year, but already he had some silver strands.


    That was normal though, as Alistair himself was a human, yet Theopalu had to be thousands of years- no, maybe even older than that to be an elf and have wrinkles. Alistair, and indeed his other companions had been wondering themselves as to just how old Theopalu must have been¡­ Not that the old codger would spill the beans on anything pertaining to his past, of course. He wouldn¡¯t tell them anything about the watchers either, not their rules or how they acted upon finding outsiders. It was positively infuriating how much Theopalu held back, what if Alistair stepped on a branch and got an arrow in the throat for snapping a piece of a tree? It would be nice to know at least what not to do, but Theopalu refused to say a word about anything that didn¡¯t relate to what they had hired him for. It was either that or Theopalu couldn¡¯t, or more likely wouldn¡¯t, tell them anything that might tread upon watcher secrets.


    All the old elf wanted to do was guide Alistair and his friends through the Faewood¡­ then finally, into the Fiendwood. The demanded price for such a dangerous undertaking? To head into a land where no man has ever returned? Kazon¡¯s lair and the origin of Spiralling Death?


    Food. That was it.


    No coins or jewels, nor favors or potential deals with Alistair¡¯s people, just food. Alistair narrowed his eyes at the old elf; there was something more to the strange faekin than just being old, he just knew it. The sheer confidence that Theopalu placed in himself to be able to pass through the Fiendwood unscathed was what got him hired in the first place¡­ that and his apparent age. Who was to say? Theopalu could possibly be even older than the Fiendwood itself.


    ¡°You alright Alistair?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked, appearing like a pale phantom at Alistair¡¯s side ¡°You look uh¡­ not alright?¡± He finished in an unsure tone.


    About a head shorter than Alistair and as pale as spirit, Kid¡¯ka looked to be the type to stay inside all day. Yet that pale almost silvery skin was the result of exclusively hunting during the nighttime. The dark-haired Kid¡¯ka looked to be suffering worse than even Alistair was, based on the deep red tinge of sunsear on his cheeks. Thankfully, Alistair had become used to Kid¡¯ka¡¯s sudden appearances long ago, else Alistair might have tried to bring his war hammer down upon the smaller man''s head.


    ¡°I¡¯m alright, it''s just¡­ how can we really trust Theopalu? We know nothing about him or why he agreed to do any of this. It''s suspicious¡­¡± Alistair said honestly, making sure to lower his tone so Theopalu didn¡¯t hear ¡°Supposedly all he wants is food, but I don¡¯t believe that for a damn second.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka adjusted the red cloak he wore as his dark eyes found the elder elf ¡°He¡¯s alright, he just eats a lot.¡±


    Indeed, Theopalu had proven capable of devouring with ease plates an orc warlord would have had trouble downing. Yet there were plenty of other ways for a former watcher to get food¡­ So why take such a dangerous job in the Fiendwood? He focused his attention on the old elf ahead once more, seeing the elf stop a moment to pick up a particularly large spider. Its leg span was nearly the size of the elf¡¯s head¡­


    Alistair felt a cold shudder of revulsion as he watched Theopalu¡¯s jaw unhinge to swallow the poor arachnid whole, the old elf barely stopping to chew his unfortunate morsel as he continued to move along.


    ¡°He uh¡­¡± Kid¡¯ka began nervously as he too looked away from the elf¡¯s back ¡°He eats a whole lot. It¡¯s just how he is.¡±


    ¡°It''s ridiculous is what it is.¡± Alistair replied, unable to keep some bafflement from his tone ¡°It. Is. Not. Natural.¡± He continued, pausing for emphasis.


    ¡°Some of the things we can do aren¡¯t exactly natural either, my friend.¡± Elum told him with a small laugh ¡°I feel it might be a bit much to say that our old feeble elf¡¯s appetite is strange when we can do things only talked about in stories.¡±


    Alistair turned his head to lock eyes with Elum, his icy blues meeting Elum¡¯s fiery reds.


    ¡°We can¡¯t let that slip!¡± Alistair whispered sharply ¡°You know what could happen to us if we¡¯re found out. It''s best to avoid speaking of it entirely.¡± Alistair finished, taking a deep breath and looking to see if the trees had ears.


    In this forest, who was to say that they didn¡¯t?


    Elum then looked to the branches overhead, straining his eyes likely in an attempt to discern any watchers tailing them. Kid¡¯ka cleared his throat and promptly wrapped his arms around both Alistair and Elum¡¯s necks. Before either could react, Kid¡¯ka quickly began whispering, making sure to keep his eyes planted firmly ahead.


    ¡°Three of them overhead, five behind. Don¡¯t look!¡± Kid¡¯ka rushed out in a hushed tone as he pulled Alistair and Elum¡¯s heads back down.


    Alistair hadn¡¯t been able to discern anything amongst the trees when he made that glance¡­ Besides Nolvi dragging her feet behind the rest of them. Not too far to be at risk of being snatched away by watchers or forest creatures. The woman thankfully hadn¡¯t noticed the interaction ahead of her, but then again, that girl wouldn¡¯t have noticed if a flaming frog had jumped up her skirt.


    Thanks to his foolish reaction to Kid¡¯ka¡¯s words, the watchers surely knew that the party was aware of their presence. Hopefully, that would not provoke them in any way, Alistair would hate to have to summon Baomiel just to fight watchers. They did not deserve to feel the angels'' teeth grinding them to paste.


    ¡°Yeah I love you both like brothers!¡± Kid¡¯ka yelled in the most forced tone Alistair had ever heard in his life ¡°I just like hugging you, is all, you can¡­ uh, now you can go off of my arms¡­?¡±


    The poor guy wasn¡¯t exactly the best with words, but Alistair decided to play along ¡°Yeah, of course. Love you too.¡± Alistair said casually as he quickly shrugged out of Kid¡¯ka¡¯s grasp.


    Elum however, was not as¡­ gentle.


    ¡°Do not touch me, you reek of pig guts and sour fruit!¡± Elum shouted, poking Kid¡¯ka in the chest and forcing the other man back a few steps.


    Kid¡¯ka, for his part, looked innocently confused a moment before he finally replied with ¡°But you smell like sulfur. Like¡­ it''s bad, like really bad.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you do smell like butt-rock.¡± Alistair laughed forcefully, roughly patting Elum¡¯s shoulder ¡°Now let''s keep going please!¡± He whispered harshly through clenched teeth as he not-so-gently pushed Elum along.


    Twindil had turned to look at them, a blonde brow raised before all three simply smiled and waved. The last thing they all wanted to do was get a talking to about ¡®Afina¡¯s Tranquility¡¯ and how peace must be upheld at any cost. Sometimes that peace had to come about through a thorough beating, thankfully none of them had pushed Twindil to that point yet, but he could tell her deep well of patience was being strained.


    Not that Alistair would just allow Twindil to bend him over her knee and paddle him of course. It was just a confrontation he¡¯d rather avoid. He looked past her to see a break in the trees¡­ a field? Theopalu paused a long while before passing into that breach in the trees, for what reason, Alistair didn¡¯t know. The old elf had only stopped in his tracks when it was time to let them sleep, and there was still a decent amount of daylight left¡­


    It was when he drew closer that he saw it. A giant steel¡­ egg? Had smashed through the grassy field, splitting the soil beneath it in half. No, this wasn¡¯t an egg¡­ could this have been one of the falling stars? Had one landed in the Faewood? Curiosity drew him forth, and Alistair soon found himself standing only a few paces away from the metal mass. It had shot through a few trees when it crashed, based on the fact that the trail continued on past where the star now sat.


    Something had dragged it out of the woods and back into the middle of this field¡­ but what could have been strong enough to do that? Maybe the watchers had all worked together to haul it out? Perhaps they had used one of their moving trees? Yes, that had to be it. But then¡­ Why was it still sitting here? Wouldn¡¯t they have taken it somewhere more secure to study it?


    ¡°A strange omen.¡± Twindil muttered ¡°I hope it means we¡¯re on the right path, Afina willing.¡± She continued as Elum rounded the star.


    Alistair was still staring at the front of the thing¡­ Why did the ¡®star¡¯ have what almost looked to be a door? There was a strange device next to the sealed entrance, embedded into the wall, bearing nine letters atop what appeared to be miniature pressure plates. No, not letters, those were Saiharan numerical digits! All the way from one to nine. Was it some kind of security against intruders? His brain continued to work as he stared at the thing, the gears in his head whirring at full speed. Perhaps it was similar to that of a combination lock?


    Yes, that had to be it. One likely had to push the pressure plates in the correct order to get the egg to open. If that were the case, what was the combination? More importantly¡­ where was the creature that knew the pattern necessary to open what seemed to be its lair? Alistair¡¯s eyes found Kid¡¯ka, the man standing next to a trail of heavy bootprints set deep into the torn soil. Heavy boots certainly to leave that kind of impression, and what a boot size! The footprints were larger than even Alistair¡¯s torso, and he was not a slight man.


    This was clearly no star¡­ it was something else. Something had fallen with this steel egg-shaped contraption, and it didn¡¯t seem to be home.


    ¡°If this thing is made out of this kind of metal¡­¡± Kid¡¯ka muttered, knocking on the pod ¡°Then it isn¡¯t natural, whatever it is.¡± Echoing Alistair¡¯s thoughts.


    ¡°There¡¯s a window on this side!¡± Elum shouted ¡°I cannot see through the black glass, but I believe that is because it is one-sided!¡±


    ¡°What do you think, Baomiel?¡± Alistair thought to his eidolon.


    ¡°It is certainly not a star. The stars are not so simple as dots in the sky Alistair, though you know that by now.¡± The angel''s voices replied, two bestial and angelic tones layering over one another as it spoke.


    ¡°Do you think you would be able to break inside?¡± Alistair thought to Baomiel.


    ¡°Perhaps¡­ but do you really have the time for fooling about with this¡­ thing? Tuji closes on you even as we speak, but if you insist, then we can try.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to summon Baomiel.¡± Alistair said aloud to Twindil, who licked the small scar at her lip.


    He knew her long enough to know that meant she was nervous ¡°I have the sanctioning papers but¡­ but if they look too closely¡­¡± She whispered ¡°Then we¡¯ll have no choice about what comes next. Perhaps it would simply be best to leave it be, Alistair.¡±


    ¡°Calm down now,¡± Elum began, rounding the steel egg to come standing right next to the door ¡°Maybe we can figure out a way inside without summoning your¡­ friend.¡± The ifrit finished after a short pause.


    ¡°I do not think you would know the combination to that pad, and breaking the glass at the front of the thing would likely prove to be futile, lest I summon Baomiel.¡± Alistair said, drawing closer to the otherworldly thing.


    ¡°Why do you think that?¡± Nolvi asked silently, her eyes not moving a hair from the ground at her feet.


    ¡°This contraption, whatever it is, fell from the skies with nary a dent.¡± Alistair explained ¡°Elum also says that the glass at the front is not broken¡­ who knows? Perhaps it can''t be broken by natural means.¡± Alistair replied, rubbing his chin.


    ¡°Why waste your time with this thing? Leave now before the Pillar-Born comes to find you deliberating.¡± Baomiel told him, its tone bordering on commanding.


    ¡°It fell from the very stars themselves¡­ what lay within could help us defeat Tuji, or even Kazon¡± Alistair thought back ¡°Who knows what could lay within¡­ can you really tell me that this contraption would hold nothing of use?¡±


    ¡°You would be thieving from whatever creature lives there. Who knows? Perhaps it is within, pondering the best way in which to slay us all should we breach its lair.¡± Baomiel replied, his tones warning.


    Twindil then shook her head ¡°It would be best to move on, we¡¯ve dallied enough as it is.¡±


    ¡°Twindil, please at least let me attempt.¡± Alistair nearly pleaded, stepping closer to Twindil till they were only a pace apart, his voice turning to a whisper as he continued ¡°The papers you carry could convince a Contextualizer.¡± He continued, putting a hand on her shoulder before leaning closer ¡°It fell from the stars, it could be of the very Pillars themselves, who knows, maybe there is something within that can¡­¡± Alistair hesitated, sparing a quick glance at the trees before looking back into Twindil¡¯s eyes ¡°Something to halt the madness. I know it¡¯s not likely, but I have to at least look, please.¡±


    Elum and Kid¡¯ka stared at the two of them, inching closer, likely in an attempt to hear the words that were being exchanged. Nolvi and Theopalu though? Theopalu squatted toward the edge of the clearing, having found another large insect to devour. It was a fist-sized beetle this time, and the ever-hungry elven geezer wasted no time cramming it down his gullet. It didn¡¯t even look like Theopalu had made an effort to chew¡­


    And Nolvi? Completely unresponsive to her surroundings as ever. It was hard to believe that such a petite woman could potentially kill with a look.


    Twindil licked her scar again, shrugging off his hand and looking toward the steel egg for a long while before finally saying ¡°Announce your intentions. Let the watchers know what you¡¯re going to do, and make sure they won¡¯t take offense. They are here, I am sure of it, waiting to see what we¡¯ll do.¡± She finished with a worried sigh.


    Alistair smiled and gave a small nod, stepping back and raising his hands high in the air, readying to proclaim his intentions.


    ¡°Watchers!¡± He shouted, his voice echoing through the trees ¡°Hear me, for I know you are there. I am from the Atheyare caravans. Like the rest of my people, I have an eidolon. I know not what you may have heard about us, but I am sanctioned! I do not wish to offend, but I desire to know what is inside this thing!¡± He continued, gesturing toward the steel egg ¡°If you have any objections, speak them now to avoid conflict with us! If you say nothing, I will take that as consent to my actions.¡±


    Alistair waited for a reply, the others in his group, save Theopalu and Nolvi of course, began pensively scanning the trees. After a few moments of pure silence passed, Alistair took a deep breath and began the summoning. His forehead burned, the budding horn beneath the headband seeming to strain against the cloth as he willed Baomiel to come forth. If the watchers attacked them, Alistair would feel no guilt in retaliating. They had plenty of time to voice any complaints and hadn¡¯t, that was on them, not Alistair.


    Perhaps they wanted them to crack this thing open? Did the watchers not have the means to open the egg themselves? What if they were simply waiting for the contents to be revealed before trying to seize the goods for themselves? Alistair shook his head, he would deal with it if that came to pass¡­ now, time to bust this thing open before whatever lived here returned.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Lance drove her blade deep within the skull of the large canine fiend that had lunged for her, the dagger puncturing the brain with a burst of rotting pink mist. As that happened, Hoplite fired his Fortis magnum three times in rapid succession, each bullet finding a home in the centers of three small rotting apes swinging high above in the trees. They were a long-armed species with shaggy matted fur, their frenzied calls echoing through the forest. They had proven to be far more dangerous to the watchers than any of the more ground-based mutants.


    Hoplite had seen an elf have his face torn off by a pair of them before he could even attempt to defend himself, falling from the tree he had been perched in as the mutants tore his flesh asunder. Hoplite had put the apes down, but it had been too late. All that had been left of the unlucky watcher had been a mangled bunch of black cloth and sundered flesh.


    These dogs however didn¡¯t prove nearly as dangerous, though they were still capable of ripping up flesh in seconds with their tainted maws. Yet all the rotting hounds hadn¡¯t been a problem for Lance and her blades thus far.


    Lance twisted with the momentum of the falling canine, her blade sliding out of the skull with the firm shlick of metal on bone. The creature¡¯s rotting brain matter spilled out onto the grass with a wet plop as the head collided with the ground, that now familiar pink miasma seeping from seemingly every wound the dog had. Sunlight lit the forest floor a shade of pink as its rays passed through an overhanging death-mist as Hoplite and Lance continued fighting. Never before had Hoplite fought within a fog this garish, he was used to gray ash falls and the thick mists of boiled oceans, not¡­ pink.


    The grass he and Lance danced through was spattered with the blood of dozens of the creatures now, painting the earth with sickly spatters of red that contrasted the bright miasma surrounding them. They had come across a large pack of these ¡®lesser-fiends¡¯, animals that had been infected with this ¡®Death-Spiral¡¯ disease. Apparently, the more dangerous variety of fiend were strictly humanoid, but they hadn¡¯t encountered any in the three days they had been fighting through the Faewood.


    Lesser fiends had a harder time spreading the disease than the humanoid ones, based on what Lance had told him. Hoplite didn¡¯t understand just how Lance could consider a diseased human to be more of a danger than, say, an infected grizzly bear. As Hoplite thought that, an infected bear rounded a far-off tree. It then charged, quickly drawing closer to reveal the putrid maggots dripping from a half torn off maw of rotting teeth.


    Lance rolled as the beast swiped its massive paws for her skull, quickly sheathing her blades and scaling a tree up and away from the creature with a loud curse. Hoplite took advantage of the creature''s distraction, and charged, ramming his shoulder into its ribs and sending it flying into another nearby tree. The animal''s spine shattered as the bear was horse-shoed around the trunk of the thick tree, sliding to the ground in a poof of pink mist that swirled into the ever-growing fog. Its eyeballs had popped out of their sockets from the whiplash, the colony of maggots living in its rotting skull now pouring from the empty eye holes like a squirming white waterfall.


    From his camera he could see another ape dropping down from a high branch, hands swiping for Lance¡¯s head. Before Hoplite could speak, her eyes widened and she whirled, drawing her dagger and splitting the chittering thing¡¯s head in half at the jaw. Pink mist and rotten dark blood spattered her face and she gagged as the thing''s shaggy corpse fell to the earth with a heavy thud, the upper half of its head coming to lay only a few paces away from its body.


    Hoplite dispatched the other two diseased apes that his motion trackers had picked up on, the red blips showing them scaling the tree next to where Lance was perched. As soon as they appeared, Hoplite popped them with the Fortis, that pink mist bursting as the bodies of the apes fell to the grass. How many had the two of them killed since this campaign began three days ago? Two-hundred? Surely that, if not more.


    His motion tracker and cameras didn¡¯t pick up any more movement, and after a few moments of silence, he holstered his magnum, cocking his helmet up to Lance.


    ¡°Any injuries?¡± He asked, knowing that there would likely be none inflicted on her by the fiends.


    He had meant any muscle or joint injuries from the constant rolling and climbing.


    ¡°No, I am alright thank you.¡± Lance said, dropping from the tree to land gracefully ¡°Still can¡¯t stand the smell, hate getting close to these things but I¡¯m better with these daggers than I ever was with a bow.¡± She said with a grin, wiping her blades off on the fur of a dead ape.


    ¡°Why haven¡¯t we encountered any human fiends?¡± Hoplite asked, crushing the skull of the grizzly bear he had tackled with a firm boot.


    It would be best to ensure it was dead, Hoplite had seen them rise on occasion after receiving a mortal injury, though not after the pink mist left them.


    Still, it was best to be safe.


    As Hoplite scraped the putrid brains now staining his boot on the grass, Lance took a deep breath and said ¡°Normal fiends retain a level of sapience, from what I hear anyway.¡± She explained, adjusting the hem of her black cloak ¡°See, those ones cannot die, and it is theorized that they fear to attempt crossing the Shot separating the Fiendwood and the Faewood as a result.¡± She then pursed her lips and shook her head ¡°Could you imagine drowning forever at the bottom of a Shot? I would not make the attempt either were I taken by the curse.¡±


    A Shot was one of the many massive rivers separating the continents that Hoplite had seen from space when he first awoke onboard the Sparrow¡­ he had learned that through the several questions he¡¯d been able to ask Lance. Now he burned with another question, as always nowadays it seemed. What was this about humanoid fiends not being able to die? That was preposterous, even considering the odd nature of this supposedly lesser variant. Surely a diseased human wouldn¡¯t take more effort to kill than these lesser-fiends. The standard fiend might be difficult to kill, but it simply could not be possible that they were immortal.


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re resilient¡± Hoplite began ¡°But it''s illogical to think that these human fiends cannot die.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, yet who is to say?¡± Lance asked him ¡°Would you say that these lesser-fiends should simply die based on the way that their bodies are actively rotting? That seems logical to me, yet they move and fight with the frenzy of a living rabid animal.¡±


    Hoplite found it hard to argue that point¡­ however: ¡°They still die. I shoot them, stab them, stomp them. They die.¡± He said flatly.


    It really was as simple as that.


    ¡°I suppose I can¡¯t argue with that,¡± Lance began after a long pause ¡°But we¡¯ll have ample opportunity to test your theory should we run into any normal fiends.¡±


    It was like Commander always said, anything that you put enough bullets into died eventually. It had to be the same with fiends. No ¡®immortal¡¯ fiend could be an exception to this golden rule. Hoplite drew his Visus rifle, holding it at the ready as he began to move west, keeping an eye on his motion tracker as Lance began to follow after him, those green all-seeing eyes watching the branches above keenly. It wasn¡¯t long before another question burned within him like a hot coal, and despite his sore throat and disdain for conversation, he found himself voicing it.


    ¡°If a Shot blocks off the fiends,¡± Hoplite began ¡°What is the Fiendwall for?¡±


    Was it a shore-spanning construct to keep out any fiends that somehow managed to cross the Shot? A long time to build something that length, especially since they likely only had access to primitive tools, but the determination of humanity was more than capable of accomplishing such a task.


    ¡°Across each Shot is a Great Bridge that connects the continents.¡± Lance explained as she continued to monitor the branches above ¡°The Fiendwall encircles the lands at the mouth of that bridge on this side of the Shot.¡±


    Hoplite furrowed his brow ¡°Why not demolish the bridge? It seems like an unnecessary risk to keep it intact. Quarantine protocol dictates that it should be demolished.¡±


    ¡°There have been attempts, but the Great Bridges are made of what is known as setstone. That type of stone is unchanging and cannot be destroyed.¡± Lance told him.


    It was more likely that they didn¡¯t have the means to demolish it. Perhaps the bridges were made of a durable stone that would require high-grade explosives to destroy, but they couldn¡¯t be indestructible. Hoplite would try to procure the proper charges for demolition once he linked backup with command¡­ If he linked back up with command¡­ Hoplite hadn¡¯t heard any signals over the radio during the entire time he¡¯d been stranded here.


    He pushed that thought down. Hoplite could not afford to think so despairingly. He needed to focus on the mission, eliminate the fiends, and gather more intel on Ahkoolis. A few hours passed of pleasant silence between him and Lance, his desire for questions finally dimming from a burning coal to a cooling ember. Soon the sun began to set over the Faewood, the dim orange light slipping between the broad leaves overhead. After three days of fighting in this forest, he noticed something: Almost every species of tree he knew about was within these woods. Everything from willows and pines to cherry blossoms and maples. The result was a garish mixture of colors that was ever-present. It was a sight that wasn¡¯t¡­ displeasing to him.


    It was the same with all the other plant life in these woods, radiant with colorful flowers and bursting with bright ripe berries and fruits. The exposure to all these colors was strange to him. Hoplite was used to gunmetal gray and the different splashes of blood in war, with some brown wastelands here and there for when he was deployed planetside.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Lance said, following close behind him ¡°Can I see what¡¯s in the star- er, pod next time we go back?¡±


    He had been making routine stops at the pod during the fighting to restock on ammunition, keeping Lance and every other curious watcher well away from its contents.


    ¡°No.¡± He replied simply.


    She grumbled but didn¡¯t argue the point. As they pressed deeper into the forest, Hoplite began to notice other watchers hopping around in the trees above them from time to time, all wearing a color-blending variant of Lance¡¯s garb. There were many of them, most going about the same task: hunting for trespassers. Or more likely with the recent development of the Fiendwall''s collapse, hunting for fiends to put down. Hoplite had learned that day-watchers were given those garments to blend in better with the surrounding forest, while night-watchers such as Lance were given light-drinking black garb to better blend in with the darkness.


    He didn¡¯t quite understand why they simply didn¡¯t give night-watchers the same color-blending garb as day-watchers, but he supposed that the color-blending version could be a fair bit harder to make than simple pitch-black clothing. The explanation for why day-watchers'' clothing could color shift had been, of course: magic. Hoplite had nearly given up asking why certain things were the way they were on this planet. Three days of constantly being told ¡®magic this¡¯ or ¡®the Pillar-Gods that¡¯ was really beginning to frustrate him. There wasn¡¯t a shred of common sense among these elves, that was all there was to it.


    ¡°When do you have to¡­¡± Lance started before trailing off, her eyes darting to the ground as she drew her lips to a line.


    ¡°When do I what?¡± Hoplite asked, his brow furrowing beneath his helmet.


    Why did she look embarrassed? Hoplite had no idea why she would be, he may have lacked the social skills of most people, but to his eyes Lance had said nothing that would seem humiliating. Maybe it was what she was about to say?


    ¡°When do you¡­ I mean to say, when do you have to¡­ pee?¡± She asked, rubbing a hand through her long black hair and seeming to look anywhere but at Hoplite.


    This was hardly the first time he¡¯d been asked this question, but he was far more used to hearing it from marines under his command. He never understood this obsession with urine, it was a simple bodily function. Hoplite supposed it was because those troops had understood that the Phalanx suit had no waste disposal built-in¡­ how they would know that, Hoplite had no idea.


    And in truth, he simply didn¡¯t care enough to find out.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to yet.¡± He replied after a second.


    ¡°It¡¯s been three days Hoplite, you haven¡¯t even slept!¡± She yelled, bafflement plain on her face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to yet.¡± He said matter of factly.


    Hoplite would like to keep it that way for as long as he could. Thankfully he hadn¡¯t consumed anything prior to suiting up, the result however was that he was severely dehydrated and practically starving. It was not dangerous for him¡­ not yet. Hoplite knew his own limits when it came to that regard, but he could not function at peak efficiency without normal sustenance. If he stopped to remove his helmet to eat and drink, however, he would have another problem on his hands later¡­


    He could go far longer without food or water than a normal human, but that didn¡¯t mean that it was healthy for him to go without it for this long. At this rate, he¡¯d be dead within the next few days. Twelve at most, but he should take care of his needs before that point. He couldn¡¯t protect anybody if he was recovering from severe dehydration alongside starvation. Hoplite found himself again wishing that the Phalanx suit had come with a built-in waste disposal, but there was no use in lamenting the fact that it wasn¡¯t there.


    There was also the very real danger of allowing his hunger to grow¡­ If Hoplite went Wendigo¡­ He shook his head at the thought.


    He dreaded it, but it would be time to remove the suit when he returned to the pod this next visit, or at least just the helmet so he could eat and drink. The inevitability of removing the Phalanx suit was what he dreaded, for the process of reattaching the individual pieces of his armor on his own would be hours long. Even with the tools Hoplite had procured from engineering before launching his shuttle. He glanced at Lance, seeing that despite all the time she had spent awake with him out in these woods, she had no dark circles beneath those green eyes.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you sleep Lance.¡± Hoplite told her.


    He hadn¡¯t either of course, not since they had both set out patrolling through the Faewood. She had to take breaks here and there to eat and drink, but she had not slept a wink. Yet Lance didn¡¯t even seem the least bit tired.


    ¡°Elves don¡¯t sleep nearly as much as you lazy humans do.¡± She said with a small laugh ¡°Besides, I got a full two hours of rest before I found you, I¡¯m good for the rest of the week.¡±


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need that much sleep either.¡± Hoplite replied ¡°Don¡¯t concern yourself.¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± Lance started, fists on hips as she walked ¡°You need to take care of yourself before you fall over dead, simple as that.¡± She sniffed, shaking her head ¡°I can forage up some berries and bag some bunnies for you if you don¡¯t know how, and it''s no bother if you want to drink from my canteen.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t put the suit back on easily once I take it off.¡± Hoplite said ¡°I want to keep it on as long as I can, it will take hours to put it back together.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s just silly. Who makes armor that hard to put on?¡± She said with a shake of her head ¡°Honestly seems stupid to me, and here I thought simple human plate armor was enough of a bother to deal with.¡±


    Hoplite couldn¡¯t exactly say she was wrong, but with how complex the Phalanx suit was, it was simply impossible to put it back on quickly without an engineer or an assembler to speed the process. On the flip side though, it was surprisingly easy to take off¡­ all it took was a certain combination of bumps with his chin and several sections of the armor would open. After a few minutes, he could be out of the suit in its entirety. The helmet he could take off and put back on whenever he wished, but he¡¯d rather keep wearing it until he was back inside the pod.


    ¡°Just let me know when you''re ready to come out of that armor, I can bag a bunny for you in no time.¡± She told him ¡°You can cook it yourself though, unless you don¡¯t know how to do that either?¡± Lance finished wryly.


    He didn¡¯t say anything in response.


    Hoplite noticed that the Magnus, Visus, and Fortis felt¡­ light. It was time to go back to the pod and re-stock. He still had an adequate amount of ammo to spare on his person, but he wanted to stay as flush with bullets as possible. Almost right after he thought of returning to the pod, his stomach growled.


    He hadn¡¯t even eaten before entering cryo¡­


    Again he tried to ignore the thought... and failed. It was simply time to eat and drink. There were canteens and calorie-dense ration bars stored beneath the seats of the pod, as it was for all escape shuttles. His throat felt like burnt paper and his limbs felt leaden. His eyes were growing heavier and heavier by the day. Hoplite needed to take care of himself before his body took matters into its own hands. He promptly turned and scooped up Lance without a word, bracing his legs as he prepared to launch into a run. She only gave a small gasp as he began sprinting headlong toward the pod. She was well used to this by now, but he saw that the other watchers in the trees overhead flinched at his sudden takeoff.


    Their surprise at his speed could only be matched by their terror of his weapons. The other watchers genuinely seemed to be scared witless of them, but Lance had grown used to his ¡®thunderstaves¡¯ by now. Seeing the power that Hoplite¡¯s guns were capable of outputting may have helped keep the watchers from attempting to bring Hoplite ¡®to justice¡¯ for the damage he had done to a few of their trees.


    Hoplite was still unsure as to how the Harkhall had voted in regard to his crash-landing, but it was safe to assume at this point that he was in the clear.


    Lance, like the Harkmother, had told him to be careful about the trees¡­ Initially, Hoplite hadn¡¯t cared if the foliage was damaged, but recently, Hoplite kept finding himself trying to avoid shooting the trees. Lance had told him that the fae inhabiting the trees would appreciate his efforts. They certainly weren¡¯t real, but Hoplite didn¡¯t feel like arguing with her over their supposed existence.


    When they had both first set out, Lance had told Hoplite that she was, in a way, responsible for any of the damage that Hoplite might inflict upon the woods. As long as he didn¡¯t bring any down, however, she was not at risk of punishment¡­ At least not severe punishment. Lance had said that the chunks blasted out of the trees would at least get her a stern talking to from her commander.


    And apparently Hoplite himself would get his own tongue-lashing eventually, at least according to Lance. Hoplite doubted it. The Faewood was a warzone and any kind of battleground would suffer wear and tear, the Harkmother and Lance¡¯s commander would simply have to accept that fact and move on.


    Still, Hoplite had kept it in mind to avoid damaging the trees. There was no need to get Lance punished by her superiors on his behalf, and in truth, it wasn¡¯t the most difficult thing to avoid damaging the woods. Yet¡­ why did he try so hard to avoid injuring them? They were just trees, nothing more. It wasn¡¯t like he feared punishment from the elven authorities¡­He supposed a part of the reason, one that he could identify, was that he simply found them to be appealing to the eye. Hoplite simply did not want to rupture the natural patterns of the tree¡¯s bark, for that would mar their natural beauty.


    Hoplite immediately turned his thoughts away from such an obscene thought. Nature was merely another potential battleground, nothing more. He was a tool, a thing meant for killing, not a human being. It was best to keep it that way, lest his thoughts eventually come to more¡­ treacherous places. He kept his attention firmly on the traveling, the speed he ran, his motion sensor- anything but the Faewood¡¯s lush colors and its near-overwhelming sense of life.


    It only took an hour to reach the crash site at his top speed, and when he put Lance down, he saw that her hair had been completely blasted back by the wind. She finally opened her eyes again, placing a hand to her lips before leaning heavily against the thick trunk of a nearby tree. Her face had turned a sickly shade of pale, and for a moment Hoplite believed that she would paint the bark with her bile.


    ¡°You have to give me more warning than that you metal ape¡­¡± She muttered under her breath ¡°My guts are soup¡­¡± Lance groaned, placing a hand to her stomach.


    ¡°It is unnecessary.¡± Hoplite replied ¡°It is more time optimal this way. If I were to tell you every time we were about to be en route to the pod, it would take up to a minimum of fifteen seconds; It would be a massive waste of time.¡± Hoplite explained to her.


    Yet instead of nodding in agreement to his flawless logic, Lance shook her head, glaring up at him ¡°Well you¡¯re going to tell me from now on instead.¡± Lance told him ¡°I will not be hauled about like a stone.¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s back stiffened in irritation. How dare she try to order him around?


    ¡°You are not in command of this operation. Do not attempt to give me any kind of orders.¡± Hoplite bit back, the heat in his voice only barely contained by ice cold discipline.


    ¡°In case you forgot,¡± Lance said after a second, standing straight to look up into his helmet ¡°You aren¡¯t my commanding officer Hoplite. Do not order me around. I may defer to you now and again in combat, but I am a watcher, not your soldier.¡±


    Her face was actually beginning to turn from a shade of pale to a more crimson hue. Lance was growing angry with him? Why? All he did was assert his role as a commanding officer, as he had done all his life to those lower ranking than himself-


    But Lance was not a part of the Eighth Arm of Terna, she was not in the command structure whatsoever. Therefore, while she held no rank in the military, this also meant that Hoplite did not outrank her. This puzzled him for a millisecond of thought before he realized how he should proceed. Lance should be regarded as a civilian combatant. Since she was not a part of the structure of command, that gave her more free reign than a standard soldier, as their behavior was typically unpredictable, as was whatever gear they may be in possession of.


    That didn¡¯t mean that civilian combatants shouldn¡¯t follow orders, but their wild variation made it difficult to utilize them to their full capabilities. Technically, Lance was a part of the Ternan civilization, from a lost colony¡­ but she was not part of any of the Eight Arms. Until proper reintegration, she was not truly Ternan¡­ Perhaps she was right to be irritated with Hoplite for giving her orders outside of combat?


    No, Hoplite was right. He had to always be certain. If a Hoplite didn¡¯t have certainties, their thoughts would always lead to treachery¡­ he could not, would not be re-indoctrinated. If only he had more experience dealing with civilians¡­


    Turning his thoughts back to Lance in that same instant of thought, he came to a conclusion. To avoid having this cooperation turn abrasive, Hoplite would concede to this small matter. Perhaps it would be more optimal if Lance was made aware before take-off. Perhaps preparing herself mentally could keep her from lagging around in her sickness. Her recovery had also been taking up too much time for his liking.


    ¡°From this point going forward, I will notify you approximately one second before take-off.¡± Hoplite replied in his usual monotone.


    That should be enough to be satisfactory to her. This concession was already more than what Hoplite was used to providing.


    ¡°You don¡¯t pick me up until I tell you it''s alright,¡± She snapped angrily, her eyes narrowing into a glare that matched Hoplite¡¯s own ¡°You tell me when then I¡¯ll tell you if it¡¯s alright. I have to mentally prepare.¡± Lance told him, her face growing a deeper shade of red.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite nearly snapped, fully turning and walking away to avoid wasting any more time on this ridiculous conversation.


    From his rear camera he could see her give a small but curt nod, her previous sickness all but evaporated in the heat of her anger. Hoplite¡¯s own face felt red-hot with rage. How dare she ask for more from Hoplite after he gave her more than he would have given anyone else? As soon as these savages were reintegrated, they¡¯d need to be taught proper procedure.


    They walked in icy-cold silence for a few minutes before finally reaching the crash site. As he had every time before, he activated one of the camera¡¯s in his finger, and edged the tip just around the tree trunk to scan the area around his shuttle. Before he even saw what was on the camera, his motion tracker had picked up on seven blips surrounding his pod¡­ Were they nosy watchers or something else?


    If they had been fiends, they wouldn''t have been stationary. Fiends always moved erratically on his motion tracker, they never held still. These were almost completely immobile even, at least in relation to fiends. When Hoplite finally saw what his finger camera¡¯s feed picked up on, his mouth almost fell open in shock.


    Six people and some horrific kind of mutant were all staring at his shuttle. The mutant had drawn his attention first due to just how severe the changes were. The top half was a handsome long black-haired muscular humanoid, crossing its arms and looking down upon Hoplite¡¯s pod with a curious glint in its black eyes. The lower half in contrast, was a horrific monstrosity. The upper half¡¯s waist, instead of ending in a pair of legs, lead into another, larger body. A massive face with a gaping maw and three tongues sticking out of its mouth made up the center of this second torso, one of the tongues reaching up occasionally to lick one of the creature''s two big black eyes. Its bold nose hung slightly over the gaping three-tongued maw, which masticated the back of the three lolling tongues. Another set of inhumanly large shoulders stuck out from above this second horrific face, each with a long ape-like arm that ended in two broad furled fingers that each ended in a sharp point. The thing held itself aloft with two thick squat legs, using its two lower arms for better balance.


    Hoplite had never seen such a massive mutation in his life. If Darkwatch were to see such a mutant on this world, they¡¯d surely designate Ahkoolis for liquidization with barely a second thought.


    Not that this strange creature was the only mutant in this strange gathering. There was also a lean crimson-skinned man that stood near to the mouth of Hoplite¡¯s pod. Long black horns like that of a goat jutted out from his temples above a head of unkempt long white hair that fell all the way down his shirtless back. A patch of gray flesh was spread across his right arm, the contrast of the strange mark against the mutant¡¯s red-flesh made it nigh impossible to miss. A birthmark, or some kind of skin-disease? The other five people seemed normal at a glance, yet he could see that one, a blonde woman wearing plate-mail, possessed ears with a slight point to them.


    Another elf perhaps? Maybe a subspecies?


    Before he could make out more details, he had to pull his finger back.


    A pale square-faced man of middling height and wearing a red cape and leather armor had seemingly caught sight of Hoplite, his eyes coming to rest exactly on Hoplite¡¯s tree. It was likely that Hoplite had pulled his finger back before it could be seen¡­ yet that man seemed to have keen eyes. Keener than most to catch sight of Hoplite¡¯s fingertip. Did that man have bionic eyes? No normal human should have been able to spot something as small as a fingertip so quickly and accurately¡­ Perhaps the man had seen an insect instead? Or maybe he mistook Hoplite¡¯s finger for a bird?


    If the stranger had indeed spotted Hoplite in that brief instant, then his position was compromised.


    ¡°Uh, did you guys see that?¡± One of them, likely the square-faced man asked.


    ¡°See what?¡± A woman¡¯s voice replied.


    ¡°Potential hostiles.¡± Hoplite told Lance as drew the Magnus from his back.


    Lance brow furrowed in confusion for a brief instant before she heard the drifting conversation between the strangers, then she drew her daggers.


    ¡°You saw them on your¡­ you called it a motion tracker, yes?¡± Lance asked in a whisper.


    ¡°Yes. Be ready to attack or retreat if they become aggressive. Flank them if you can.¡± Hoplite told her, rounding the trunk of the tree to greet surprised eyes.


    The strangers had all turned to stare goggle-eyed at Hoplite, who stood tall and ready to start blasting hot lead. He stared right back at the strangers, his shotgun not yet aimed but ready to be if the need arose. Hoplite would react appropriately based on how these people behaved¡­ Suddenly, the square-faced man walked toward Hoplite, his face set with curious determination. Hoplite then promptly aimed his shotgun toward the pale man and the stranger stopped dead in his tracks. Even if he didn¡¯t understand what a gun was, he clearly understood that whatever Hoplite was holding was a weapon.


    ¡°Identify.¡± Hoplite ordered.


    The strangers all looked at each other, the two-faced mutant staring at him with those unsettling pitch-black eyes. That one he could put down with a blast of the Magnus without having to get close, but Hoplite supposed the same could be said of all of these people. None of them wore armor that could possibly stop these shells.


    ¡°I uh, I¡¯m the warrior known as Kid¡¯ka.¡± The man stuttered ¡°Sorry I just wanted a closer look at what you were¡­ Didn¡¯t mean offense, mister golem.¡±


    The elf-woman in full-plate then stepped forward, placing a fist to her chest-plate as the pale man took a few steps back.


    ¡°I am Twindil, a Paladin of Afina, the Pillar-God of tranquility.¡± She said soothingly, as if she had heard heat in his monotone.


    He searched those green eyes of hers but there wasn¡¯t anything but confidence in those eyes. A Paladin? She certainly didn¡¯t look like one. The generation of super soldiers before Hoplite had been called Paladins, but they weren¡¯t all that common nowadays. Most had met their end serving in the war, and few new Paladins had been made after project CHIMERA¡¯s resounding success. Hoplite had met and even fought side-by-side with a few in his younger days, and they all shared Hoplite''s disposition. After all, Paladins went through the exact same training as a Hoplite, just without the mutations that were involved with project CHIMERA.


    This woman did not have those same cold empty eyes, they seemed to be filled to the brim with life. She actually smiled at him when she saw his head cock toward her, the small scar on her lip only pulling it down slightly. No, this girl could not be Ternan personnel, not with those ears and that gear.


    Hoplite then cocked his helmet in Kid¡¯ka¡¯s direction again, simply to let the man know that Hoplite still had him well within his sight. Kid¡¯ka then coughed forcefully before he began rubbing the back of his head, looking away from Hoplite as he spoke.


    ¡°I uh¡­ am a Tongue of Zodd.¡± He said, seemingly straining to speak the words.


    Whoever this man was, Hoplite could tell that he didn¡¯t speak very often based on the croak in his deep voice, either that or he smoked an unhealthy amount of tobacco, much like how many sergeants in the marines did. Kid¡¯ka then lifted up the back of his hand, displaying it to show that it had been branded with the image of a furled tongue. He had heard mention of the Tongues of Zodd before in the Harkhall. There had been mention of calling for their aid in dealing with the encroaching fiends¡­ Were these strangers all Tongues of Zodd? Likely not, Twindil likely would have introduced herself just as Kid¡¯ka had if that were so.


    It was still uncertain as to if these strangers were hostiles, but so far Hoplite did not think that they presented any immediate threat. They had tried opening talks, albeit¡­ strangely with Kid¡¯ka¡¯s behavior. Perhaps the man was simply socially inept? Yes¡­ he didn¡¯t seem the type to speak much to others, based on that croak to his throat and the silvery paleness of his flesh. Hoplite was all too familiar with that sensation; of speaking far too often. Other than Kid¡¯ka¡¯s strangeness, however, these people didn¡¯t seem to be hostile-


    The red-skinned mutant standing further back in the group then began inching toward the door to the pod, and Hoplite¡¯s body kicked into motion, raising his shotgun and aiming it directly at the mutant.


    ¡°Step away from the pod now!¡± Hoplite shouted, his booming voice causing all to flinch, save for the huge mutant, that one held its composure ¡°Failure to comply with these orders will result in your immediate execution.¡± He ordered harshly, stomping forward a few steps while keeping an eye on everyone surrounding him.


    ¡°Woah! Okay okay¡­ was just curious was all.¡± The mutant said.


    His voice was filled with undercurrents of mischievousness, like those hordes of lower-ranking marines that preferred to goof off rather than be productive. From his rear camera, Hoplite could see Lance quickly pass from tree to tree, going almost completely unnoticed. Despite her adept maneuvering through the woods, however, it still seemed that Kid¡¯ka had seen her, his face growing pale as he mouthed the words ¡®watcher¡¯ silently. Lance¡¯s position was compromised to Kid¡¯ka, but the man didn¡¯t seem interested in outing her hiding place for some reason¡­ maybe he had already been seeing watchers darting about and had simply chosen to ignore them up until now?


    ¡°Names Elum,¡± The red skinned mutant said, drawing Hoplite¡¯s attention ¡°And anyway it''s not like it¡¯s yours. We were here first, I claim this star for us!¡± Elum declared, gesturing to his companions who all stared daggers at him in response, save for one, a girl with her eyes firmly set on the ground.


    Elum seemed to be waiting for his companions to back him up, and when they didn¡¯t, he pursed his lips in irritation. He scratched at one of his black horns as he backed away from the pod, compressing his lips to a fine line and staring longingly at the crashed shuttle.


    ¡°That is Ternan property.¡± Hoplite said, seeing Lance emerge from behind a completely different tree than the one he had seen her dart behind.


    She sheathed her daggers, and began almost casually approaching Kid¡¯ka¡­ why was she compromising the flank? Was there something she knew about these strangers that he didn¡¯t? She gestured for the man to approach her, and Kid¡¯ka flinched, seizing up for a brief instant before finally he started to slowly inch toward her.


    No one besides Hoplite seemed to have noticed this.


    ¡°There are no ¡®claims¡¯, stay away from that pod.¡± Hoplite ordered in a low menacing tone ¡°You won¡¯t be warned again.¡±


    Elum then lifted his chin "What about the international ''claims'' law?¡± He asked in a confident tone ¡°It dictates that¡­¡± He paused, his confident tone waning as he went on ¡°It says that¡­ uh, if I find a thing and make a claim upon it, that it''s mine."


    Twindil then shot a withering glare at Elum "There is no such law!" She shouted with exasperation.


    Elum then began grumbling something under his breath, looking away from the elf in armor to instead seemingly admire a fallen branch. Twindil maintained the accusing glare for a full few seconds before turning back to Hoplite with a sigh, her brows creased apologetically.


    Hoplite had overheard an almost similar conversation, much like the interaction between he and Elum just had. It had been between a couple of exo-troops concerning a cup of ice cream. The two had almost come to blows. The soldiers had been strangely irritated about it¡­ Whatever ice cream tasted like, it still shouldn¡¯t have been good enough for someone to fight over it.


    Indeed Elum looked as irritated as those soldiers had, knowing that he could not claim Hoplite''s pod for himself. Of course, this was a serious situation, not something as petty as ice cream. Yet Hoplite found himself recalling that interaction for hints on how to proceed here. It was an irritating thought, there was no need to defuse the situation with Elum, it was enough that Hoplite had ordered the mutant to step away from the shuttle.


    Nothing more was needed.


    Hoplite then noticed the other watchers in the trees above them¡­ It seemed there were about five there, all staring silently at him and the strangers. Were they here before, or had they been following these people? Lance had told him that one of the many duties of a watcher was to observe trespassers until they left the forest, and that meant following them until they were gone. If they were causing harm to the forest, either by logging or poaching, they¡¯d be dealt with swiftly and violently.


    What had they been doing here? Had they truly been here this whole time or did they just arrive? If it was the former¡­ then could they have been scheming a way to break into his shuttle? It was certainly possible, but thankfully the durable tungsteel alloy making up the pod would ensure that nothing these elves had could bust through. Still, Hoplite wouldn¡¯t allow himself to be lax about a potential break-in¡­ he¡¯d need to make sure none of them managed to see the access code for the pod, else Hoplite may return to find his shuttle completely ransacked.


    Perhaps that was why Lance had broken cover? Confidence in her comrades to swoop in if things went south? Perhaps, but it was still a foolish thing to do¡­ There were far too many unknowns here to assume safety.


    He then turned his attention back to Elum, who stared back seemingly unconcerned. The red mutant then crossed his arms, fully turning away from Hoplite with an irritated huff.


    ¡°Never heard of Terbutt or whatever the hells you called it. Keep it then. Fine. I suppose I will allow you to retain possession of the discovered goods. No use in us killing each other over it.¡± Elum said, as if it were his to give away in the first place.


    Hoplite then looked to the blonde man wearing the red headband then, seeing that he too wore plate armor similar to Twindil¡¯s, though his was painted a shade of gold, rather than silvery gray. The man stood next to the two-faced mutant, a hand wrapped around the shaft of a large war hammer with its square head planted firmly in the soil. It was an intricate piece of work, the large square metal head made of shining steel. Its wooden shaft was engraved with images of monstrous creatures, one of which looked to resemble the two-faced mutant. The man then leaned his weight into the hammer and began shaking his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m Alistair.¡± The blonde man said, looking again toward Hoplite ¡°This here is the angel and my eidolon Baomiel.¡± He finished, gesturing with a nod to the two-faced mutant ¡°I am sanctioned, do not worry about me being Pillar-Born.¡±


    Hoplite was of a height with the creature that Alistair had named Baomiel. The so-called ¡®angel¡¯ glared at him, its upper human arms crossed over its broad chest.


    ¡°That,¡± Hoplite started in a deadpan ¡°Is a mutant.¡±


    Alistair stared confusion at Hoplite, and Baomiel¡¯s upper half frowned at Hoplite as the lower half continued to lick its own eyeballs.


    ¡°No,¡± Alistair said with a shake of his head ¡°He is an angel from the astral plane. I can summon him and dismiss him at will. I am Atheyare, golem. Surely you know what that entails?¡± He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.


    Hoplite did not argue the point, nor did he explain that he was really a human, not a golem. He instead turned his attention to the woman that had been staring at the ground. She had an¡­ eerily symmetrical face, bordering on unnatural. Her blue and green eyes lifted from the ground finally, and Hoplite felt a strange¡­ tugging in his gut. Almost like a primal¡­ fear? No, it could not be fear, he had felt true fear onboard the Sparrow when he had been certain he¡¯d been about to die. This was just a strange¡­ uneasiness, as if the woman¡¯s very existence were unnatural. Uncanny indeed, there was some kind of mutation besides the heterochromia there, though he could not place it purely based on her appearance.


    ¡°I,¡± She began after a brief second ¡°Am Nolvi.¡±


    With that, Nolvi began staring at the forest floor, seemingly zoning off the very instant those eyes found the ground. She wore a heavy cloak that was made of stout brown leather, concealing much of her body and some of the thin staff she held gently in both hands. A leather cloak in this heat? Hoplite¡¯s body and armor had been outfitted with flexible Kelvinite piping, keeping his body temperature at a constant and normal (for a Hoplite) hundred and five degrees. It was likely that Nolvi had no such piping implanted beneath her skin, why would she be wearing such a heavy-duty cloak? She must have been concealing weapons beneath it, he¡¯d need to keep a keen eye on her hands in case she tried to pull one out.


    Alistair shook his head with a sigh before hefting the war hammer over his shoulder, the wooden shaft colliding with the plate armor with a gentle clank.


    ¡°She is¡­ er, a bit¡­ vacuous, do not mind her.¡± He said in a suffering tone.


    Nolvi¡¯s eyes flashed up at Alistair for a brief instant before looking back down to the ground, and for some reason, Alistair let out a yelp, cradling his rear-end a moment before muttering something under his breath. It was as if he had just been struck, though by what Hoplite didn¡¯t know. There was nothing that Hoplite could see that could have hit the man.


    Lance and Kid¡¯ka were speaking more animatedly now, though they maintained a quiet whisper. The man was looking more drained talking to her than he had speaking with Hoplite. These people did not seem hostile but that didn¡¯t mean that Lance should have emerged yet. After all the situation was still unresolved, he needed to question everyone and then clear these people out of here. They must have found his pod by chance, so what was their original objective before stumbling across it?


    Perhaps they were heading for the Fiendwall?


    Before he could pursue that train of thought further, the sixth stranger, an old looking elf wearing a black watchers outfit approached Lance, big dark bags under aged green eyes. Was this man retired from working the Faewood? He had to be, else why would he be here with these strangers and not darting through the trees above? Furrows carved their way through his skin and he held himself in a slight hunch, bushy dark eyebrows drooping down nearly to brush his cheekbones. His long dark hair was held back in a single ponytail, not a single gray among that head of black despite the wrinkles on his face. An old elf? Seemed this mutation had a lifespan after all. That begged the question, how long had this elf been alive? Lance claimed that elves were biologically immortal unless taken by disease or wounds¡­ but this wrinkled bony man certainly looked anything but unaging.


    Instead of saying anything, the elder elf simply sat on the ground, staring uncaringly at Hoplite for a moment before looking at Alistair.


    ¡°Got any food?¡± The wrinkly elf asked, his gravelly tones marred and scratchy from countless years of use.


    Alistair then compressed his lips in a tight line ¡°No! You eat enough already, Theopalu! We do not have enough rations to make this trip if you keep eating the way you have been-¡±


    ¡°Yeah I got some.¡± Kid¡¯ka said quickly, seemingly grateful for the opportunity to leave Lance¡¯s company as he lightly jogged over to where the old elf sat.


    Lance shook her head and gave a small laugh ¡°Old Theopalu, you truly haven¡¯t changed at all.¡±


    ¡°Woah!¡± Alistair shouted, hand tightening on the shaft of his warhammer as he took a quick step backward ¡°Where the hells did she come from!?¡±


    Nolvi glanced up at him, a quirk to her brow ¡°You didn¡¯t hear her and Kid¡¯ka talking?¡± She asked dully ¡°Your ears are broken.¡± Nolvi stated flatly before continuing to stare holes into the dirt.


    ¡°I had not heard her either¡­¡± Twindil whispered, a hint of embarrassment in her tone as she tucked a long lock of blonde hair behind one ear.


    ¡°Personally, nothing gets past me. Except this once.¡± Elum said after a moment ¡°Damn quiet they are¡­ but at least they aren¡¯t hiding anymore?¡± Elum asked, sounding uncertain as to if that were a good thing.


    Was that why Lance had come out? Because she had recognized Theopalu? Even so, she should have maintained the flank in case Theopalu had turned traitor to the watchers. The old elf had brought strangers into the Faewood, he should have been regarded with at least a smidgen of suspicion. And if she had indeed recognized Theopalu¡­ then why did she approach Kid¡¯ka first? Why had the man looked so nervous talking with her?


    Hoplite stared as Kid¡¯ka pulled out a large piece of hardtack, handing it to the old elf while Alistair glared daggers at Kid¡¯ka. The old elf - Theopalu, wasted no time in consuming the fist-sized morsel. Hoplite stared in near-bafflement as he saw the elf swallow the hardtack without chewing it. It was as if Theopalu¡¯s throat had expanded to allow it to fall straight into his stomach.


    Perhaps elves were more mutated than he thought? But then why was Lance staring in near-horrified shock at Theopalu? If all elves could eat like that then she would not be staring at Theopalu in such a way.


    ¡°You really haven¡¯t changed at all, have you?¡± Lance asked Theopalu, the latter merely shrugging in response ¡°How''s the outside world been treating you?¡±


    Theopalu shrugged again before replying curtly with ¡°It is fine.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s good Theopalu¡­ but you haven¡¯t been teaching our ways to outsiders, have you?¡± Lance asked him, her eyes turning to daggers as she approached the still-sitting elf ¡°After all, this lad is young enough to have been raised by you on your time off, it''s been what, twenty years? You didn¡¯t take a human apprentice in that time, right?¡± Lance asked him ¡°You know what would have to be done.¡± She finished in a tone as deadly serious as Hoplite had ever heard.


    Theopalu then shook his head ¡°No, just met him a few days ago. The boy just got a great eye, should have been born an elf.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Lance said after a moment, turning her head back to Kid¡¯ka.


    The man seemed to seize up the moment Lance¡¯s eyes found his, and he forced out another awkward cough before the blonde elf girl, Twindil, approached Lance. Hoplite kept a firm eye on the blonde elf, reading her body language for any signs of aggression. If Twindil became hostile, Hoplite would blow her away in an instant. However, Hoplite saw no signs of hostility in Twindil¡¯s body language. The paladin only seemed curious about Lance, Twindil¡¯s face in wonder as she gently reached out a hand, giving a small smile.


    ¡°He just does that. I¡¯ve never really had a chance to¡­ uh, talk to one of you before.¡± Twindil said with brief hesitation ¡°Well, besides Theopalu anyway,¡± She said quickly ¡°But he doesn¡¯t like to talk. See, I¡¯m actually half-elf and I was wanting to ask if-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Hoplite cut in ¡°What are you all doing here?¡± He asked, checking the tree¡¯s above to see the current positions of the watchers overhead.


    They had become suddenly very still on his tracker, disappearing in their stillness. Yet¡­ when Hoplite checked the camera¡­ he could see none of them. They had seemingly all left while he was preoccupied with dealing with these strangers. Why would they do that? The situation hadn¡¯t been resolved. Perhaps they thought their time could be better spent on neutralizing the dozens of fiends still wandering the Faewood. If that was what they had left for, then Hoplite could hardly bring himself to blame them.


    Twindil jumped at hearing his voice, her plate armor clinking together as she stared at Hoplite with wide eyes ¡°We are making our way toward the Fiendwall.¡± She told him, taking a breath to calm herself before continuing. ¡°We hired Theopalu to guide us through the Faewood to reach it.¡± She smiled again ¡°After all, Afina wouldn¡¯t approve of such chaos spreading through the land, I will purge it. Yet in truth, that is not the only reason we are heading for the Fiendwall, this tragedy just happened to occur on our journey.¡±


    ¡°We came upon this¡­ did you call it a pod?¡± Alistair asked before continuing ¡°On the way there. And, I¡¯m going to be completely honest with you here, we were going to try and loot it.¡± Alistair said honestly, shrugging broad shoulders ¡°We didn¡¯t know it was yours okay? No harm, no foul. Gotta ask though,¡± He said, lifting an eyebrow at Hoplite ¡°Is this one of the falling stars? Pretty much everyone saw at least a few of them during the Starfall. Can¡¯t help but notice that this place looks like it got split down the middle, like it crashed here.¡±


    ¡°They weren¡¯t stars. They were escape pods.¡± Hoplite told him ¡°Have you found any others? Were there any humans in them?¡±


    The party of mutated misfits all began staring at one another, all save for Nolvi before they began shaking their heads. It was as Hoplite had previously thought¡­ If these people had been arriving from the west, it was unlikely that any pods had crashed on that side of the planet during the initial and only ejections. This wasn¡¯t the first time Hoplite had heard the mass evacuation referred to as the ¡®Starfall¡¯. Apparently, it was becoming more commonly known as such.


    This at least confirmed that there were likely no shuttles that had landed in the west. If Hoplite wanted to link back up with Ternan personnel, he¡¯d need to head to the east as he had planned.


    He opened his mouth to begin speaking, but began shouting instead when his motion tracker began picking up on several frenetic blips, all converging on their location. These past few days of combating fiends had taught him how they¡¯d appear on his motion tracker. The blips were jagged and wild in their approach, drawing through the round tracker on his hud from all directions.


    ¡°Hostiles inbound!¡± Hoplite shouted ¡°Fiends incoming from all directions! Get ready!¡±


    With that, the roaring of beasts half-dead could be heard. Growling maws that desired not else but to tear all those unafflicted with their mutation to pieces. Thankfully, the strangers did not question this, indeed it seemed as if they had grown used to being attacked by fiends during their journey through the woods. A good thing, for they reacted swiftly¡­ all save for Theopalu, who opted to remain sitting.


    Nolvi quickly stepped behind Twindil, who drew a massive greatsword, holding it at the ready. Alistair quickly ran over, taking up a position next to Twindil. Kid¡¯ka moved to stand closer to Elum as the red mutant held his hands outward to the surrounding forest. Hoplite didn¡¯t know what Elum planned to do with just his hands, the thin man was not built for wrestling¡­


    Then they were upon them, all chittering beasts and critters of all shapes and sizes. Apes and dogs, boars and weasels, and a couple of bears to boot. Hoplite was not sure that he could save everyone from the encroaching fiends, but he would try. He aimed the Magnus at the first bear, the beast roaring as it charged directly for him.


    The blast tore through the creature¡¯s skull with ease, spattering rotted brain matter across the trees while stray pellets tore into other beasts. While that happened, Elum¡¯s hands began glowing a shade of green¡­? Hoplite, almost completely dumbfounded, watched as the red mutant began lobbing balls of green liquid at the approaching fiends.


    They had simply¡­ appeared out of thin air above his hands, how, Hoplite did not know. The balls of liquid impacted with the second bear that had been approaching, the matted fur melting away in an instant with a sizzle. The acid ate through the bear¡¯s skull and left only a stump of bone where the broad head had been, the body sliding to a stop right before Elum, who backed away with a curse as the miasma seeped out of the headless corpse.


    Before Hoplite could process what had just happened, he saw Alistair¡¯s own hand suddenly catch flame. A brilliant golden fire enveloped his entire palm, and the man slapped it atop his war hammer, the metal seeming to take the entire flame in that instant and leaving Alistair¡¯s hand bare of any burns.


    Some kind of bionic had to be at work there! Flame and acid did not just come out of peoples hands! Alistair then reared the hammer back, and swung it into the skull of a dog, knocking it far back into the growing crowd of fiends with an explosion of gore. This golden flame spread from the hammer on impact, launching several bits of flaming skull toward the fiends.


    Each piece that landed on top of a fiend caught that one on fire in turn, and soon there were dozens of fiends blazing with the golden fire, all seizing up and just¡­ they were just gone. For the briefest of milliseconds, before the flame completely took them, the skeletons of the diseased animals were visible, as if Hoplite were seeing an x-ray through their putrid flesh. The golden flame seemed to consume them in their entirety, and not even the pink mist emerged once they were gone. There was not even ash where they had fallen, they were just¡­ gone.


    Hoplite kept firing the Magnus, forcing himself to stay focused on the combat at hand. There would be time to rationalize how this was all possible after the fact. Shells tore through dozens per shot, and unfortunately, Hoplite could not avoid hitting the trees with his rounds. There were simply too many fiends to afford caution. They seemed to pour out from all directions like a rotting flood of gnashing teeth. The strangers all flinched at the cacophonous roar of his shotgun, but showing extraordinary discipline they stayed completely focused on the killing.


    Twindil swung her greatsword, the thick blade cleaving through three apes that had been jumping for her, the blade passing through the legs of the first one, then a torso, and finally a head. She wretched on the pink miasma even as she stomped the now legless apes skull, already swinging again into another pack of fiends.


    The ¡®angel¡¯ Baomiel swung its massive lower fists wildly, fighting like a savage gorilla as it snapped spines and crushed skulls beneath its mighty blows. The upper half of Baomiel had intercepted an ape that had leaped from a high branch, catching both an ankle and a wrist before the mutant lifted the monkey high above its head, ripping the creature in half. Baomiel did it with the ease of tearing paper, uncaring for both the pink miasma and the gore now coating its upper body.


    Lance slashed and dodged through the fiends in an intricate and bloody dance, working her two long daggers with a surgeon''s precision. Limbs and heads flew off with every step she took, the diseased animals unable to even scratch her before she was already out of harm''s way. Kid¡¯ka fought with the same efficiency, ducking and weaving with careful counterattacks with his longsword that split limbs and bodies, his sword painting the air a deeper shade of pink as the miasma continued to flow and mix into the growing mist surrounding the clearing.


    Nolvi¡­ Nolvi just stared at the fiends. Yet when she did so¡­ strange things would happen to the creature she sighted in on. They would stumble and trip over nothing, or a bone would shatter seemingly on its own¡­ surely it was just due to how rotted and decayed fiends were¡­ she could not be injuring them by simply staring.


    Then suddenly, a wolf-fiend''s head simply exploded, and the veins on Nolvi¡¯s temples had bulged, her face going red with unseen effort. Again Hoplite turned his attention away from thinking about the impossible, simply focusing on firing his shotgun until all the hostiles were eliminated.


    Theopalu did nothing. The old man simply sat where he was and let the fiends pass over him offering no resistance to the stampede¡­ but what was strange was the fact that the fiends¡­ they avoided him. Why would they avoid Theopalu? He wasn¡¯t infected-


    Focus.


    More balls of acid were flung, limbs severed, fiends blasted apart for a long while before finally the last of the creatures was dispatched with a firm stomp from Hoplite. He had used up all the shells left in the Magnus and had to engage in close quarters. Those were shells that had been well spent, however, for Hoplite had killed at least fifty fiends in that short span of time with those remaining rounds. Why had so many appeared here like this? Hoplite had never had to fight off a wave this size, there had to be around two hundred that had charged them all at once¡­


    Which was why it was strange that they had suffered no casualties.


    Lance and the strangers were all perfectly fine, save for Kid¡¯ka, who nursed a bleeding calf. It seemed as if one of the hounds had gotten its teeth into his leg, and unlike Twindil and Alistair, he wore no armor that could have stopped it. Was he infected now? If he was, then Kid¡¯ka would have to be put down before he could pose a threat. Yet, if he could be treated in time, he could likely be saved. Apparently, lesser-fiends had a more difficult time spreading the disease, but still, the wound could not be left to fester. Hoplite would retrieve some antibacterial gel from his pod and then-


    Twindil then approached Kid¡¯ka, leaning down quickly and grabbing the wound. Was she a trained medical professional? The way she held it was certainly not how a gaping bite wound should be treated-


    ¡°Afina, seal this injury, so that he may be tranquil in life.¡± Twindil whispered, clutching something at her neck.


    A golden glow then grew from her enclosed fist, and it traveled up and down her arms and onto Kid¡¯ka¡¯s wound. Hoplite approached to get a closer look, and saw that the wound was- It was closing!? Yes, the injury was closing up on its own, the blood seeming to pull back into Kid¡¯ka¡¯s body as the bite mark fully sealed, leaving not even a scar. Only nanomachines could heal so efficiently¡­


    Ah, that was it, it was nanomachines. True, nanomachines did not glow¡­ or were even visible in any way, but there were no other explanations Hoplite could think of for how that wound had sealed so quickly. Yet there was a flaw with this idea, as nanomachines could not transfer from person to person. Each fleet of nanobots was ''tailored'' for lack of better words, to the person hosting them. This was so the user''s body wouldn''t identify the microscopic machines as a virus. Transferring nanomachines in such a way always resulted in intense fevers and bacterial infections, leading to death. It simply had to be something else that Twindil did to heal Kid''ka, but that begged the question.


    What had it been?


    Lance cleared her throat nervously, her face red beneath a head of sweat-matted hair ¡°So¡­¡± She breathed heavily. ¡°Some of you can do magic¡­¡± She continued, clearly uncomfortable ¡°I assume that- well you have to be sanctioned yes? You are not... Pillar-Born?¡± She asked, suddenly serious.


    Glances passed between the strangers, save for Theopalu, who stared at a beetle crawling on a stump before grabbing it up and promptly eating it whole. It was a stag beetle.


    ¡°...Yes.¡± Twindil said after a moment''s hesitation ¡°I have my papers on me now if you must look over them.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m Atheyare.¡± Alistair huffed ¡°Do you know of my people and our bond to the angels?¡±


    Lance paused before nodding, staring wide-eyed at Baomiel ¡°I knew what you were as soon as I laid eyes on your eidolon.¡±


    ¡°Then you know that I didn¡¯t need Foundation to bring him here. If it will make you more comfortable, I¡¯ll dismiss him now.¡± Alistair said, snapping his fingers.


    Hoplite goggled as Baomiel completely vanished. He bumped his thermals to see if the mutant had gone invisible, but it was simply¡­ gone. The creature didn¡¯t even appear on his motion tracker, it was just gone. Lance eased up only slightly, approaching Twindil with a small shake to her step. Twindil gingerly handed Lance the papers, lips pursed as the watcher read over the laminated sheet.


    Lance gave a deep sigh of relief once she finished going over these ¡®sanctioning¡¯ papers that Twindil provided. Hoplite himself saw the words ¡®By the Head of the Cathedral of Tranquil Afina, Twindil Mermu is sanctioned as a mortal¡¯. What did all of that mean? His eyes felt heavier than ever now as he gazed longingly at the pod. All he had to do was step inside and seal it shut, then he could take care of himself and be done with all this nonsense. He¡¯d be able to make better sense of all this once he was well and truly rested.


    No more fiends were inbound on his motion tracker, the field was completely still with the corpses of the fiends, not a single one moved an inch from where it sat. The pink miasma still hung heavy in the air, making it apparently difficult for everyone else to breathe, all save for Theopalu, who merely yawned as if he were about to take a nap, still laying among the corpses of the fiends. If the combat was over¡­ then it was time for Hoplite to take care of himself.


    ¡°Give them directions.¡± Hoplite ordered Lance.


    Lance then turned to him, her brow knit together above glaring eyes. What had he done to receive such a look?


    ¡°We do want to get to the Fiendwall, miss Lance.¡± Twindil huffed with another small smile ¡°Please, we can help push back the fiends when we get there, we don¡¯t mean any harm to these woods, truly. Afina¡¯s word on it.¡±


    Lance turned from Hoplite to smile back at Twindil.


    ¡°You are three days south,¡± Lance huffed, wiping sweat from her brow ¡°But old Theopalu there knows the way well enough. He used to be a watcher after all.¡± Lance told her, sparing a brief glance at the older elf ¡°Can¡¯t believe he¡¯d come back to the Faewood this soon after being sent on leave¡­ even if it didn¡¯t involve work.¡±


    Hadn¡¯t Lance said it¡¯d been around twenty years? That was hardly ¡®so soon¡¯ in Hoplite¡¯s opinion¡­


    More words passed between Lance and the strangers, but Hoplite heard none of it. His eyes were heavy and his limbs were lead pillars¡­ It was time to rest and he wasn¡¯t going to wait any longer.


    ¡°Lance, do you have control of this situation?¡± Hoplite asked as he turned toward the pod, approaching it with heavy footsteps.


    ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± She told him with an eyebrow cocked.


    ¡°Retreat if they turn hostile. I¡¯ll be in the pod.¡± Hoplite told her ¡°Do not attempt to follow me in. I will open fire.¡± He warned the group.


    Strangely, Elum smiled, taking a step toward Hoplite ¡°You¡¯re magic too? You sanctioned? I can open fire too-¡±


    Hoplite raised a single broad finger toward the horned mutant as he approached Hoplite.


    ¡°Back.¡± Hoplite ordered.


    The mutant¡¯s acid would not be able to eat through Hoplite¡¯s armor, if Elum became aggressive now, then Hoplite would simply snap his neck.


    Elum shook his head, sighing as he looked at the glaring Alistair with a grimace ¡°I was just curious.¡±


    Their words became nigh-inaudible as Hoplite sealed the pod doors behind him. They continued speaking for a long while based on how long they hung around on his motion tracker. Hoplite clutched the Visus, straining his bionic ears to their limit to pick up on any hostile tones. When the voices finally faded away without the sounds of conflict, Hoplite set about removing his armor, trying not to think about the things he had seen the strangers do.


    He may as well take care of his every need, he would eat, drink, and sleep. Four hours should be enough assuming that nothing attacked the pod or Lance. If there was a body of water nearby, he may take the time to wash as well. That would mean potential exposure to toxins in the environment, not to mention the potential for wounds to be sustained in a sudden combat situation, but he was fairly confident that he could rinse and be back to the pod before any incident occurred. If other ¡®normal¡¯ humans could survive exposure on this planet, then surely Hoplite could as well. His immune system was incredibly deadly to all forms of contagions.


    When he was finally free of his armor, he ravenously tore into rations and full canteens of water, guzzling them down as if he were drowning before slumping over on a row of the seats, sleep ready to claim him.


    As his eyes finally shut, his thoughts drifted back to just what he had seen today.


    His dreams were of magic, monsters, and elves. Like the book he read as a child over two centuries ago.

 Super-Soldier in Another World Book Two: The Fiendwood: Chapter One: The Unbound

    Mazeek scratched at his long unkempt beard, wondering how long it would take for his guest to arrive. It was getting late in the day, and Mazeek was craving his nap. He supposed that he could simply fall asleep here on the Greatbridge while he waited. It was not like he would be in any danger, the Fiends crossing the bridge made sure to keep a safe distance from him. Interesting behavior, they must have instinctively understood just what Mazeek was.


    Oddly intelligent considering the maddening pain they felt, to know not to try and wound Mazeek. It was strange though¡­ Mazeek had certainly not told any Fiends what he was, so how was it that they knew to avoid trying to harm him? Again, Mazeek found himself thinking that it was a part of their base instincts, after all, Mazeek could cause pain far beyond anything the creature¡¯s had ever felt in the entirety of their cursed existences.


    And a Fiend with even half a wit would do well to avoid that pain no matter what.


    He kicked his legs over the lip of the bridge, staring down at the rushing water below. The Shots were all impressive in their own rights, all mighty torrents that barely any ship would be able to cross without utilizing Foundation. It was no surprise that trade between nations was all but impossible without the use of the Greatbridges. Fascinating constructions, they had been around since before the Menra era, when Mazeek had been born.


    Setstone was a truly wonderful material to be able to withstand nine Godling Wars without even a scratch. Should he take some of the bricks to build himself a new fortress on the Icy Lashes? He doubted that anyone would notice a few pieces missing¡­ Yes, he¡¯d start gathering them now as he waited for-


    ¡°Unbound.¡± Mazeek heard a booming voice say from behind him.


    Mazeek grinned and turned his head, a sudden gust of wind blowing his hair back as he stared at the imposing figure before him. Standing a head taller than the highest ogre and clad in silvery scaled armor, the ¡®man¡¯ seemed to have stepped right out of legend. Indeed, he had the features for it, strong chin and hard cheekbones, on full display due to his clean-shaven face. Golden eyes regarded Mazeek with what appeared to be contempt, or perhaps mild annoyance? It was hard to tell.


    Mazeek had always enjoyed poking fun at these creatures. Their great pride had always been so much fun to whittle away. Of course, only one such as Mazeek would be able to do so, anyone else would certainly be turned into paste, had they tried to insult such a monster.


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    ¡°Dragon of the East.¡± Mazeek said with a smile ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve finally arrived, I was beginning to grow bored.¡± He continued, standing from the ground and turning from the Shot to fully face the new arrival. ¡°I¡¯m sure you understand what happens when I grow bored, you may have just saved the world.¡±


    The Dragon smoothed back a lock of silver hair from his brow, merging it with the rest of his long mane as he glared down at Mazeek. ¡°Spare me your words, Unbound. I suggest you say only what is needed, else you may suffer the consequences for wasting my time.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Mazeek asked, quirking a brow, ¡°Do you intend on invoking the Right of Challenge upon me?¡±


    The Dragon said nothing in response, standing there with face hard as stone. Absolutely unreadable this creature was¡­ Even for Mazeek.


    ¡°Wise decision, all the Dragons that have challenged me in the past to become The Unbound have ended up as fish food.¡± Mazeek continued with a chuckle. ¡°And I truly do not think you would make for a good meal for my pets.¡±


    ¡°Get to the point, why have you drawn me here to this place?¡± The Dragon asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to glare down at Mazeek.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Mazeek hummed, placing a hand on his chin. ¡°Well, for starters, that armor is very tacky,¡± He said, approaching the Dragon to kick his shin lightly, ¡°Perhaps go for black and red? Or perhaps pink, that would suit you better.¡±


    The Dragon then turned his back, and began moving away from Mazeek.


    ¡°Wait! It is just a jest!¡± Mazeek shouted quickly, trailing with a laugh and catching the Dragon by his elbow. ¡°I just thought I would let you know that your nephew is heading this way, if you wanted to meet with him.¡±


    ¡°Nephew?¡± The Eastern Dragon said, shrugging off Mazeek¡¯s hand as he turned to face him. ¡°I am the only Dragon of Decuma, the Last Dragon. You know this, I cannot have any ¡®nephews¡¯. Save me your foolishness Unbound, we are done here.¡±


    ¡°While it is true that you are the only Dragon of Decuma,¡± Mazeek continued, rubbing a hand through his long brown hair, ¡°You are by no means the only Dragon that has ever lived, you know that¡­¡± Mazeek continued, mouth quirking up in a grin. ¡°This nephew comes from an older brother of yours I suspect, a much older brother.¡±


    The Dragon of the East then furrowed his brow a moment, before giving a small shake of the head. ¡°None of the Dragons from the previous ages still live Mazeek. They all died invoking the Right of Challenge on Zodd¡­ You know this.¡±


    ¡°Not all of them.¡± Mazeek said simply, turning his back to the Dragon to stare out across the Shot.


    A truly gorgeous river, stretching infinitely towards the sun on the horizon. Did the Dragon appreciate the view as well? Mazeek turned to ask that very question¡­ only to see that his guest had already departed. The Unbound laughed, placing a hand to his mouth as he continued to chuckle. The Dragon must not have liked what Mazeek had implied.


    Mazeek understood though¡­


    The potential return of the Banished Child was a terrifying thought.

 Chapter Two: Across the Fiendbridge

    Kid¡¯ka held on for dear life to the rim of the wagon, his guts churning as the world passed by in a blur. He genuinely was beginning to fear that the canvas roof would tear off from the rapid pace Hoplite maintained. It was like the thick cloth was being buffeted by gales from a storm¡­ Hoplite truly was faster than a horse.


    The Outworlder had claimed that he¡¯d be able to cross the bridge in seven days, a feat that Elum had disbelieved. Kid¡¯ka himself hadn¡¯t believed it either, but now that they were speeding across the Greatbridge like an oversized wisp¡­ Well, Kid¡¯ka was more convinced of Hoplite¡¯s claims. Elum too looked convinced, what with how he did not else but goggle at Hoplite, jaw tightly clenched while he desperately clung to the boards of the vehicle. The ifrit''s normally crimson flesh had paled considerably once Hoplite had reached his full speed; it was a sight that Kid¡¯ka himself had never seen, not in all their years of knowing one another.


    Kid¡¯ka gasped when Hoplite hit a small bump, sending the wagon flying a couple of inches off the ground for a brief instant before it crashed back to the ground.


    ¡°Could you slow down just a little bit!?¡± Alistair shouted, tone bordering on anger, ¡°I nearly lost my dinner!¡±


    Hoplite did not respond, likely because he could not hear Alistair over the wind. Either that or Hoplite was ignoring him. The result was the same either way, as Hoplite did not slow his pace a single bit, his face plate firmly facing the horizon. Only the very tip of the sun could be seen on the horizon, indicating that night would soon be upon them. Just when did Hoplite intend to stop and rest? He could not avoid Fiends very well if he could not see them.


    There was also the fact that everyone in the wagon would have to sleep at some point, and with how rough this journey was, there would be no way for anyone to rest. It wasn¡¯t like they would have to camp in the middle of the bridge, Kid¡¯ka was certain that Hoplite had seen at least one of the dozens of stone hallways lining the Greatbridge¡¯s walls. Those wide halls all led to roofed rest areas for passing wagons, much like every other Greatbridge in the world. Had no one told him about that yet? Kid¡¯ka had not been paying too much attention to the words exchanged between Hoplite and the rest of the party when it came to planning this trip.


    His thoughts at the time had been purely on how he planned to remove Kazon¡¯s head from his body. Kid¡¯ka¡¯s father hadn¡¯t done anything to deserve such a cruel fate at the Lord of Hate¡¯s hands. Ever since that day, Kid¡¯ka had been filled with quiet rancor, his calm exterior belying the hot rage that dwelled within. Father had taught him to keep his strongest emotions hidden, and Kid¡¯ka had done his best to uphold that advice. When the day of reckoning came for Kazon, Kid¡¯ka would keep a straight face, both during the final fight and afterward.


    Exposed emotions were as vulnerable as gaps in armor and Kid¡¯ka would not allow that weakness to be exploited. That was something that Hoplite seemed to have a good understanding of. Kid¡¯ka felt that he could learn a lot about stoicism from the massive man. Only Hoplite seemed to understand the importance of hiding one''s emotions as Kid¡¯ka did. Twindil had always told him that hiding emotion was unhealthy in the long run, but she just did not understand how those feelings could be exploited by an intelligent foe.


    Back in the Faewood, Lance had managed to see how nervous Kid¡¯ka was at being approached by her, and had moved in to use that weakness to her advantage. She had basically bullied him to try and get Kid¡¯ka to confess the name of who had trained him in the ways of the Watcher. It wasn¡¯t Theopalu, as she had initially suspected. In truth, Kid¡¯ka¡¯s mentor hadn¡¯t been an elf at all, but the training was Watcher given nonetheless¡­ just second handed. Thankfully Kid¡¯ka had been able to deflect her questions effectively, and Theopalu had helped erase suspicion by vouching for him.


    Kid¡¯ka had berated himself afterward for letting his mask slip up in that instant¡­ But what was he to do? The Watcher had approached him with knowing in her eyes, he had felt like a rabbit in a snare beneath that green gaze. Kid¡¯ka had, at the time, believed that Lance already knew everything about him. He knew that wasn¡¯t the case now, of course, but Kid¡¯ka would be sure to keep his mask more firm in the future.


    The others in this party would be wise to do the same. That wasn¡¯t to say they were emotionally unstable, far from it, yet there were quirks they all had that could be exploited. Alistair¡¯s temper for example: he usually had a good reign on it, but once the Atheyare was provoked to the height of his rage, Alistair would throw caution to the wind to destroy whoever had wronged him. The warrior that strikes out in blind rage is always at a disadvantage against a calm and collected opponent. Thankfully it took a lot to push Alistair to that point, but if he was overtaken by battle rage during the coming battle with Kazon¡­


    Kid¡¯ka had a feeling it¡¯d not end well.


    Again, it wasn¡¯t only Alistair that was at risk of being overcome by their treacherous emotions. Every single person in this wagon hated Kazon with a fury that threatened to wipe away all self-control¡­ Well, everyone save Theopalu and Lance, the former uncaring and the latter practically shaking in her cloak at the mere mention of the Lord of Hate.


    Everybody else though?


    If Kazon managed to provoke them... Well, if it came to that, Kid¡¯ka would have to do his best to ensure that the party would remain calm. Hopefully, that responsibility wouldn¡¯t have to land on just his shoulders, for Twindil was far more proficient at keeping them all tranquil in conflict.


    But if Twindil lost her self-control¡­ He inwardly sighed. Who was he kidding? She was far more in control of her emotions than he was, even though she wore them openly. Still, Kid¡¯ka knew just how much Twindil reviled Kazon, and that kind of hatred could muddy anyone¡¯s senses. His eyes then found Hoplite, the man continuing to lug the wagon like a horse jumped up on raw Foundation.


    If Hoplite came to aid in the slaying of the Lord of Hate, that would be a relief. The man wouldn¡¯t be swept up in emotion during the fight as he only viewed Kazon as a potential obstacle, nothing more, nothing less. As an Outworlder with no connections to Ahkoolis, that made sense.


    His companion Michael was an Outworlder as well, though Kid¡¯ka could tell that he despised the Lord of Hate just as the rest of them did. The way Michael clutched his thunderstaff and how he glaring toward the sickly horizon let Kid¡¯ka know exactly how the Outworlder felt. It made sense though, for Kazon was the one who had sent Michael¡¯s star crashing into the Fiendwall. Michael had been trapped beneath tons of rubble for days on end, surrounded by the rotting corpses of his comrades¡­ In the darkness, all alone.


    Kid¡¯ka wondered if Michael had a fear of the dark after that experience. He would not look down on the Outworlder if that was the case, few people could come out of a horrific scenario like that unscathed. Now that it was beginning to grow darker outside, how would Michael fare? Would he become a liability in the field? The Fiendwood was a land of near-constant darkness, at least that was what most suspected. It was close to the Icy-Lashes, where the sun¡¯s rays barely touched Ahkoolis.


    If Michael did indeed have nyctophobia as Kid¡¯ka expected, then he¡¯d need to work hard to quickly overcome his fear. Kid¡¯ka doubted it would be easy though, such scars usually took years to heal, and sometimes they just never did. Kid''ka knew that his scars sure hadn''t, and they never would. His nature as a Pillar-Born ensured that he¡¯d never live long enough to see them heal¡­ Unless he Ascended, of course.


    He frowned, quickly turning his attention from that dire eventuality to instead stare at Hoplite¡¯s back. They would need to stop soon, and for some reason, no one else had decided to let Hoplite know that it was time to rest. Maybe everyone was too nervous to stand? The speed Hoplite maintained was quite intimidating¡­


    If that were the case, then Kid¡¯ka would have to take the reins. Now¡­ What was the correct thing to say? Kid¡¯ka practiced his words for a couple of minutes, rehearsing them silently beneath his red scarf until he was satisfied with their delivery.


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    He then began crawling on all fours toward the front of the wagon, receiving odd stares from Elum and Alistair as he went. Twindil seemed preoccupied with staring out of the back of the wagon, likely meditating on her ways of tranquility. Theopalu and Nolvi both somehow seemed to be napping, despite how rough the ride was. If they could sleep through this then they could probably sleep through a Godling War. Lance and Michael, who both sat just behind Hoplite in the front of the wagon, paid no heed to Kid¡¯ka until he passed into their periphery, causing both of them to jump in their seats.


    ¡°Woah!?¡± Michael shouted, blue eyes narrowing in a glare, ¡°Ya can¡¯t just go sneakin¡¯ up on a marine like that! I coulda shot ya by accident!¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t even hear you approaching¡­¡± Lance breathed, her skin going a shade of pale, ¡°I thought a Fiend had somehow gotten aboard.¡± Her green eyes then found Kid¡¯ka¡¯s, and her brows lifted in preparation to deliver a scolding, ¡°For the sake of my heart, don¡¯t do that again.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Kid¡¯ka struggled, ¡°It was an accidental mistake, sorry.¡± He apologized, keeping his voice as flat as possible despite the horrid awkwardness he felt.


    ¡®Accidental mistake¡¯!? Why on Ahkoolis would he utter such mouth salad? Kid¡¯ka didn¡¯t wear his frustration on his face, keeping his expression neutral as he gripped the edge of the wagon. Now, how did the words he practiced go again? That interaction with Lance and Michael just now had scrambled his script.


    ¡°We have to need stopping-¡± Kid¡¯ka began, choking on his words for a brief instant before continuing. ¡°Wait sorry, we have to stop now. It¡¯s getting dark.¡± He shouted at Hoplite¡¯s back.


    ¡°Negative,¡± Hoplite replied loudly, ¡°My suit allows me to see in the dark. It will be more optimal to keep running through the night.¡±


    Lance winced at those words, cupping a hand around her mouth and shouting, ¡°Kid¡¯ka is right, Hoplite! You may be able to keep running, but we can¡¯t sleep like this!¡±


    Almost on cue, the deep sound of Theopalu¡¯s snoring cut through the air like a saw blade on stone, still somehow audible over the wind.


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite replied immediately afterward, ¡°Two of you are sleeping already.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka turned his head, spotting Alistair and Elum both glaring daggers at Theopalu and Nolvi.


    After a brief moment, Alistair turned his head toward Hoplite, cupping his hand over his mouth and shouting, ¡°That¡¯s because they¡¯re freaks! I cannot, nor will not sleep in this damn tumble-shack!¡±


    ¡°I second that!¡± Elum shouted, ¡°Look if this is about what I said earlier-¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite replied, his tone bordering on snappish, ¡°This is simply more optimal.¡±


    ¡°Optimal for you!¡± Alistair shouted, ¡°We can¡¯t all very well fight off the Fiends if we¡¯re falling over each other sore and exhausted!¡±


    Twindil let out a deep sigh then, turning from her seated position with a stern glare, ¡°Tranquility please, all this shouting is making it difficult to commune with Afina.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka could barely hear her over the gales of wind passing through the wagon, but Alistair seemed to pick up on every word, and a small vein popped on his temple as his head turned to face her.


    ¡°Did you hear anything we just said!?¡± Alistair shouted, gesturing toward Hoplite, ¡°Bucket-boy here wants to keep going all night! I¡¯m not doing that!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you call thirty-seven ¡®bucket-boy¡¯.¡± Michael growled, ¡°You ain¡¯t got the first idea who he is or what he¡¯s done, show some respect.¡±


    ¡°Oh what, is the bucket-baby getting upset!?¡± Alistair shouted at Michael, his features hardening and face reddening.


    ¡°Bucket-what!?¡± Michael shouted back, teeth bared like a wolf. ¡°I oughta buckkick your face in Alisturd!¡±


    ¡°Stand down marine!¡± Hoplite shouted from the front of the wagon, his pace slowing as Lance moved between Michael and Alistair.


    Elum placed a hand on Alistair¡¯s shoulder as the man attempted to stand, trying to force him to remain sitting. Perhaps Kid¡¯ka was incorrect in thinking that the Atheyare had a good reign on his temper. Kid¡¯ka himself felt oddly enraged¡­ It was an alien feeling, for nothing had happened that would have normally angered him. What could have been the cause for that? Perhaps it was simply frustration at how Alistair and Michael were behaving?


    No¡­ it was something else. He felt the need to scream at Lance, to berate her for the bullying she¡¯d done to him in the Faewood. To demand an apology for the irritating glances she occasionally shot his way, filled with suspicion and-


    Kid¡¯ka blinked, taking a deep breath to calm himself. These feelings were alien and he would deny them. They could not have come from within¡­ but if this rage was truly not his own, then where had it come from?


    ¡°I¡¯d love to see you try!¡± Alistair shouted, ¡°I¡¯m going to tear off that greasy beard and choke you with it!¡±


    ¡°I will neutralize you.¡± Hoplite growled loudly, his head actually turning to give a side-view of his helmet, ¡°I¡¯ll rip your head off.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka blinked in shock. Even Hoplite was affected by this strange mood? Why was this happening?


    ¡°Oh, would you all just stop it!¡± Lance shouted angrily, ¡°None of you are doing anything but screaming! Why did I decide to journey with fools!?¡±


    Elum then grit his teeth, turning to glare daggers at the Watcher, ¡°We didn¡¯t even ask for you to come in the first place, how about you get off and head back to your dainty little forest?¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡± Twindil shouted, standing straight up from her seat with perfect balance despite the speed of the wagon, ¡°You will all be silent, or I will make you tranquil, do I make myself clear?¡± She finished, her face stony and unreadable. ¡°The wagon will stop. We will rest, we will reconcile, and in the morning we will be on our way. I will hear no argument.¡±


    ¡°He-¡± Alistair began before Twindil harshly cut him off.


    ¡°Fool!¡± She shouted over him, ¡°Think, this is Kazon¡¯s realm.¡± She continued. ¡°The Lord of Hate is already at work on your minds, do not be pulled into your rage, or you will be lost.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka inwardly gasped at Twindil¡¯s words. She was absolutely right¡­ They were in Kazon¡¯s sphere of influence now, within reach of his vile magic. How many parties of adventurers had come here only to tear one another apart before even reaching the Fiendwood proper? The Fiends weren¡¯t the deadliest thing about the Fiendwood¡­ it was hate. The battle with Kazon had already begun¡­ By the Pillars, how were they supposed to reach the Rotting Ilum like this?


    If things were to keep going this way, they¡¯d all kill each other before reaching the other end of the bridge. Kid¡¯ka normally wouldn¡¯t dream of harming his friends, they¡¯d been with him since he was but a child¡­ But if Kazon could strengthen hate and rage to such a degree¡­ No, Kid¡¯ka would not allow himself to be pulled into it. He¡¯d have to be tranquil like Twindil said.


    ¡°I should have predicted this, the fault is mine.¡± Twindil said, rubbing a hand across her brow, ¡°Yet we have an advantage in my presence.¡±


    Everyone inside the wagon, save for Theopalu and Nolvi, furrowed their brows in confusion. What could Twindil do to counteract this invasive hatred? Did it have to do with her connection to the Pillar-God of Tranquility Afina?


    ¡°Once we stop this cart, I¡¯ll set to work, and Kazon will no longer be able to touch our minds, at least not easily.¡± Twindil continued, approaching the front of the wagon, ¡°If you would please stop the wagon, Hoplite. The little alcoves you¡¯ve seen are intended for travelers to rest in. It would be more ¡®optimal¡¯ if we were all shielded and well-rested for the journey.¡± She explained loudly, maintaining her calm tone.


    A moment passed, then another, and another until Hoplite began slowing his stride. It seemed that Twindil had managed to convince Hoplite after all. Ever since they were children, Twindil had a way of making people see sense. Kid¡¯ka was thankful for that talent for his back could not have taken much more punishment today.


    How long would Hoplite have continued if left uninterrupted? All night for certain, and likely all day tomorrow¡­ could he have continued like that for seven whole days without stopping? No, it couldn¡¯t be possible, but perhaps for three. Kid¡¯ka would ask Hoplite about how long he had planned on going for. The insane strength and endurance that Hoplite had shown today was impressive¡­


    Very impressive. As a Tongue of Zodd, Kid¡¯ka found himself wondering if Hoplite would consent to Tomah. Non-fatal, of course, just a friendly bout between warriors. Perhaps they could have a quick spar before it was time to bed down? That would be pleasant, especially knowing that Kid¡¯ka wouldn¡¯t have to hold anything back against Hoplite.


    After all, the Outworlder had managed to kill Kid¡¯ka¡¯s brother in fair combat, holding back wouldn¡¯t be an option.

 Chapter Three: Apologies

    Hoplite eased the wagon to a complete halt, stopping just before the entrance of one of the many designated rest areas along the bridge. He could see a small horde of Fiends slowly approaching from the horizon, perhaps around a hundred in total, give or take. Hoplite didn¡¯t think that they were aware of the wagon¡¯s presence just yet, but they soon would be. Another significantly larger horde was approaching from the opposite side of the bridge, a conglomerate of smaller groups that Hoplite had been avoiding while pulling the wagon across the Greatbridge. Both groups would need to be dealt with before the party would be able to rest in the shelter.


    Hoplite had considered just ignoring Twindil to plow forward for as long as he was able. After all, the faster the mission was finished, the better. Yet her argument had held logic. Theopalu and Nolvi may have been able to rest, true, but it would be impossible to sleep in the wagon for everyone else.


    If they were all exhausted for when Hoplite himself had to rest, they¡¯d be less efficient in fighting off any approaching Fiends. That could prove to be a potentially fatal risk; a risk that had no real need to be taken. Hoplite¡¯s concern had purely been on the time it would take to reach the other end of the Greatbridge. The longer it took to finish the operation, the more casualties his fellow Ternans would face. They could be fighting for their lives against Hordes of Fiends as well as the climate of the Fiendwood itself¡­ Not to mention the Final Kind. Though the Final Kind survivors themselves would have to face the same challenges as the Eighth Arm if they had crashed in the Fiendwood.


    They could have crashed in the middle of a swarm of Fiends, and depending on the size of the horde, leaving the pod would be an almost-certain death sentence. Hopefully, some Argo dropships would have already rescued any Eighth Arm troops stranded in the Fiendwood. That was assuming that the Argos hadn¡¯t been shot down during the evac of the Sparrow. Hoplite didn¡¯t know if any Final Kind ships had survived the EMP effect of the antimatter bomb, but if they had, they¡¯d have eliminated any Argos fleeing the Sparrow¡¯s hangar.


    Then again, if the EMP had fried Final Kind systems, wouldn¡¯t it have fried any vehicles aboard the Sparrow as well? Every single Argo and dozens of land vehicles had been missing from the bay once Hoplite had awoken in the dark bowels of the Sparrow¡­ They would not have been functional had an EMP destroyed their electronics. The escape pods had been fine, but they had a protected power source in case of that scenario. The Sparrow also possessed external shielding to protect from EMP¡¯s, but the Antimatter bomb had detonated from within the Sparrow itself most likely. Captain Henry Stol had not been able to launch it as he would have with a standard missile, Hoplite assumed that the captain''s only option had been to detonate it point-blank.


    Had Hoplite just assumed that the Sparrow was completely unusable? Maybe it wasn¡¯t really an EMP, and instead had just forced a shutdown of all electronics in the blast radius. If that was true, the Sparrow could be made fully operational again¡­ assuming the Argos had enough fuel to make it all the way back up to the moon. It was very unlikely, those dropships were probably running on fumes after the trip down planetside. They would be running on fumes indeed if they had not been shot down by any Final Kind craft.


    Hoplite hadn¡¯t seen any wreckage floating in space besides the Dragon itself, which implied the best-case scenario of a full evacuation of all surviving personnel. Hoplite was still worried though, he himself hadn¡¯t been picked up by an Argo in the days he¡¯d been planetside and if they really were intact, they would have found Hoplite by now. Had they run out of fuel? Was there a more important objective than retrieving Hoplite? His eyes then widened a fraction as he came to a grim realization.


    They thought he was dead.


    At least, it was very likely they believed Hoplite was dead. The last those troops had seen of Hoplite was when he was onboard the Sparrow¡­ Right after he had been knocked unconscious by a Yugoro. Why would they waste time looking for someone they thought had died onboard the ship? Why hadn''t they tried to retrieve Hoplite from the bay? A couple exo-troops would have been able to evac Hoplite¡­ perhaps he had fallen unconscious in a dangerous crossfire zone? There had to be a reason. In any case, they wouldn¡¯t believe that any survivors would have landed on the opposite side of the planet¡­ why use up precious fuel flying to the other side of the world when all personnel had landed in the eastern hemisphere?


    No Argos would be coming this way to find Hoplite, to them, he was KIA. He bumped his chin to check for any radio signals, only to come up with static. Definitely no emergency beacons toward this end of the bridge, nor any radio chatter.


    ¡°Sir?¡± Michael asked from the wagon, brow furrowing slightly, ¡°You alright?¡±


    That¡¯s right, no Argos came for Michael either, though his pod had been thrown off course by Kazon. Maybe Michael¡¯s trajectory would have landed him firmly in the Fiendwood? Perhaps on the Greatbridge itself or even worse, down in the massive flowing river below. The pods were equipped with diving gear in case of such a scenario, but landing under water was still a worst-case scenario. How many had landed in the waters as opposed to on land? Would he be able to even pick up on any signals from those depths?


    ¡°Sir?¡± Michael asked again.


    ¡°Affirmative. I¡¯m checking for radio signals.¡± Hoplite replied flatly, ¡°I¡¯m not picking up anything.¡±


    Michael groaned, wiping a hand down his face before rising from his seat, ¡°I figured we wouldn¡¯t be that lucky.¡± He said in a disappointed tone, ¡°Well, we should probably get goin¡¯ in there for the night after we clear out the freaks.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied, ducking under the bar of the wagon to approach the closest group of Fiends, ¡°Conserve your energy. I can take care of these myself.¡± He said loudly, ¡°You all can set up inside the shelter, I¡¯ll take the time to neutralize the hostiles. My armor will protect me.¡±


    Michael simply nodded, placing a fist over his chest and saying, ¡°Yes sir.¡±


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    Lance however, seemed to not be so eager, ¡°You¡¯ve been running all day Hoplite, aren¡¯t you tired?¡± She asked concernedly. ¡°If we work together, we can get it done faster.¡±


    Twindil nodded along with Lance¡¯s words, ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be fair for you to take the duty of slaying all the Fiends by yourself Hoplite. You should really rest.¡±


    Hoplite was only slightly fatigued with today¡¯s efforts, eliminating these Fiends would be no issue for him.


    ¡°Negative. I am still fully functional.¡± Hoplite told them honestly, ¡°Fiends have nothing that can get through my armor. You all are vulnerable to infection. This is optimal to minimize risk.¡±


    Elum gave a small shake of his head, laughing as he said, ¡°I can¡¯t argue with sense, nor do I want to.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re lazy.¡± Alistair replied flatly, standing from his seat with a groan, ¡°By the Pillars my back¡­¡± He groaned with a wince.


    ¡°Everyone halt a moment.¡± Twindil said, holding out her arms, ¡°We must reconcile for the earlier outbursts. If we allow that anger to linger and fester, it will infect our hearts. Kazon will use that to his advantage. The protection that I request from Afina will be at its strongest once everyone is tranquil.¡± Michael and Alistair¡¯s eyes immediately locked for a long moment before they turned away from one another, and Twindil frowned, ¡°Really, you are both adults are you not? Are you men, or are you boys? Apologize to one another, realize that it was Kazon that had flared your anger and move on.¡± She finished with a firm nod, crossing her arms under her breastplate


    Hoplite watched as both Michael and Alistair grumbled under their breaths, clasping hands for a moment before they both muttered half-hearted apologies. Twindil sighed and shook her head, her eyes locking on Hoplite next.


    ¡°Now it is your turn.¡± Twindil said, ¡°You threatened Alistair''s life.¡±


    ¡°Because he threatened my subordinate.¡± Hoplite replied flatly, ¡°I am not angry anymore, but there is no need for me to apologize. As you said, it was Kazon that interfered with our emotional status. It would be better to simply accept that, and move on.¡±


    Twindil opened her mouth, eyes glaring for a moment before Alistair raised a hand to stall her. ¡°No,¡± He told Twindil, ¡°He is right¡­ it was Kazon¡¯s fault, none of ours. Still though¡­¡± He paused briefly, eyes turning to Michael. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what I said.¡±


    Michael frowned for a brief instant, letting out a small sigh before saying, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I called ya Alisturd.¡± He said quickly, ¡°Knowin¡¯ that Kazon chump made us mad makes me even more mad.¡±


    Alistair nodded, ¡°I agree. When we find him, I¡¯m going to wallop him with the force of a thousand suns.¡±


    Then the two young men paused a brief instant, staring one another in the eyes with a deadly seriousness before they both grinned.


    ¡°...Mutual hatred bonds stronger than blood¡­¡± Nolvi yawned, sitting up from her seat with a stretch, ¡°That was a good sleep, I didn¡¯t know that the journey would be so relaxing.¡±


    Michael and Alistair then both frowned, turning to stare at Nolvi with brows knit.


    ¡°You crazy?¡± Michael asked, ¡°Look, it was fun but it sure as hell wasn¡¯t relaxin¡¯.¡± He finished with a shake of his head.


    ¡°Nolvi has always been an oddball,¡± Alistair started, crossing his arms, ¡°Ever since we were children.¡±


    ¡°So you guys have been friends for a bit?¡± Michael asked, stepping past Alistair and shouldering his rifle.


    ¡°We all have, save for this lazy shriveled sack of bones right here.¡± Alistair said, sneering down at the still snoring Theopalu.


    Hoplite ignored the rest of their conversation as he ducked beneath the pull-bar, eyes firmly set on the horizon and the crowds of approaching Fiends. He¡¯d need to work fast before the crowd behind the wagon caught up. As Hoplite had that thought, Baomiel the ¡®Angel¡¯ appeared out of thin air next to the wagon. Like last time, the creature hadn¡¯t shown up on his motion tracker before it revealed itself, as if it really were being summoned from nowhere.


    After all Hoplite had seen up to this point, who was to say that Baomiel hadn¡¯t been summoned? The rules of this world were still brand new to Hoplite, and until he became familiar with their intricacies, he¡¯d be left in the dark. This feeling of ignorance irritated him more than Hoplite would have expected. Back in his dimension, the rules were clear cut and simple to understand¡­ at least they were to Hoplite.


    Here on Ahkoolis however, he still felt as if he were only scratching the surface of how things functioned. Hoplite had asked so many questions yet he still felt so annoyingly ignorant. Perhaps it had to do with his initial denial upon landing in the Faewood. At the time he¡¯d simply written off so much valuable intel as lost colony hogwash¡­ he¡¯d not make that mistake again going forward.


    Hoplite continued on his path forward, seeing that Baomiel had opted to charge in the opposite direction. Alistair likely ordered the creature to take care of the approaching hordes that were no doubt following after the trail of the wagon. Was Baomiel not susceptible to the Death Spiral curse? If it truly was an otherworldly being, then perhaps the curse simply wouldn¡¯t be able to transfer to Baomiel¡¯s alien biology.


    Or perhaps Baomiel was made of a kind of pure energy; if that were the case, then no kind of curse or disease would be able to harm it. Curses and how they functioned were still largely unknown to Hoplite, perhaps the Death Spiral really could infect the angel? Based on how Alistair carelessly sent Baomiel after the Fiends alone, Hoplite guessed that the angel would be unaffected.


    Hoplite decided that he would discuss this with Alistair once the surrounding bridge was cleared of any inbound threats. If Baomiel was immune to the curse, then it should be utilized in the field permanently, up until this mission was completed. There was simply no need for the others to risk getting cursed if Hoplite and Baomiel were all but immune to it. True, Hoplite did not know for sure if he really was immune to the Death Spiral, but with the Phalanx armor he may as well have been.


    If pain could not be inflicted upon Hoplite by a Fiend, then he simply could not be infected. He marched forward, drawing the Sectis from its sheath to hold it in a reversed grip. The dark metal gleamed in the fading sunlight, as Hoplite plotted the best ways to end the coming fight as quickly as possible. He did not want to use his guns on the approaching Fiends, the noise would surely send more of the infected running to reach the source. Not only that, but Hoplite wanted to conserve as much of his ammunition as was possible.


    The wagon was flush with ammunition a plenty, but considering the countless numbers of Fiends that would be inhabiting the Fiendwood¡­ Well, it would be best to be conservative. He braced his foot against the bridge, and launched himself forth, barreling toward the coming creatures with the Sectis ready to slash, completely unaware of the golden eyes staring down at him from the sky high above.

 Chapter Four: Rest Stop

    Hoplite¡¯s fist collided with the face of the last standing Fiend, its purplish flesh caving inward before falling to the stones with a wet plop. He shook the shards of bone free from his gauntlet and did one more sweep of the surrounding area, seeing that all the still-twitching Fiends were now fully incapable of movement. Did they still feel agony despite most of their brains having been destroyed? Perhaps the bodies did, but not the consciousness. Was it a mercy to destroy their brains or would that only send them into a different kind of torture? Were Hoplite¡¯s foes currently experiencing eternal darkness? With these mutants being unable to die, who was to say that they weren¡¯t?


    Fiends were undying, suffering from wounds that would never heal for eternity¡­ That indeed was the case, unless all the flesh was burnt from their bones. Again he found himself marveling at the still-writhing Fiends, broken and battered beyond all recognition yet still somehow living. A thought occurred to Hoplite then, a foolish thought, but an interesting one nonetheless. If Hoplite himself were to become infected with the Death Spiral, would he still be able to regenerate his own wounds?


    If so, then the curse would be almost a strict benefit to him. He would become truly unkillable whilst still able to heal himself due to his mutations. Yet there were too many unknowns involved with Hoplite¡¯s potential infection to take that risk. What if it shut down his regenerative capabilities entirely, or worse, what if he hurt something and infected it with the curse? Fighting the Final Kind¡¯s forces would become far more difficult if they weren¡¯t able to die. The pain would drive them insane eventually, forcing them to turn on their comrades to ease their own agony. Fiends could heal themselves if they harmed an uninfected host, easing their anguish and spreading the curse further.


    The Final Kind¡¯s forces would transmit the disease through their ranks, eventually infecting their homeworlds and reducing the alien scum to nothing more than wriggling piles of screaming flesh. It could completely collapse their entire damnable civilization¡­ but¡­ But what if it spread to Earth? Infected Final Kind would no-doubt spread the curse to Ternan¡¯s as well. Humanity would crumble beneath the weight of collective anguish just as the Final Kind would.


    It would be mutually assured destruction.


    That would not be worth the potential immortality Hoplite would achieve, the mere thought of Earth becoming infected nearly turned his stomach. He then turned his attention away from the twitching masses of meat, walking quickly away from the carnage he¡¯d inflicted. Now that this section of the bridge was cleared, Hoplite would move the wagon into the rest stop. The vehicle was still there, parked before the wide entrance.


    Hoplite had seen Michael, Lance, along with the rest of the party, enter this dark cavernous maw earlier while he had been fighting the Fiends. A good idea, for who knew just how many Fiends could be lurking within? As Hoplite neared the wagon, he caught sight of Alistair¡¯s eidolon, Baomiel. The creature¡¯s lower half slowly knuckle-walked toward the entrance of the rest stop, its massive three-fingered fists spattered with blood. The upper half of Baomiel, the more human-looking one, crossed its arms as it stared directly at Hoplite. There seemed to be a curious glint in its eyes, and before Hoplite knew it, the creature called out to him.


    ¡°Outworlder,¡± The angel yelled, ¡°I¡¯d have a word with you a moment, if that is alright.¡±


    How strange¡­ Baomiel seemed to have two voices, both speaking at once through only the upper half''s mouth. One of the voices sounded almost noble, not all too different from the high-born human¡¯s of the First Arm. The second voice, however, was the complete opposite. It was low guttural and savage, as if a bear made of rocks had learned to speak. How many vocal cords did the mutant possess?


    Hoplite said nothing as the two came to a standstill before the entrance of the rest stop, with Baomiel¡¯s upper half at eye level with Hoplite¡¯s helmet.


    ¡°Forgive me for taking your time. I realize that it is important to you.¡± Baomiel¡¯s voices said in an almost apologetic tone, ¡°But I must know¡­ has the Outworld fallen to Doxhar?¡± Baomiel continued, bringing its tones down to a whisper, ¡°Did he manage to slip past the Pillars?¡±


    Hoplite blinked in confusion before replying, ¡°I don¡¯t have intel on any ¡®Doxhar¡¯.¡±


    A brief wave of nausea suddenly came over Hoplite then, but it dispersed as quickly as it had come. He would likely need to eat soon, he realized. Hoplite hadn¡¯t eaten since the death-day celebration for Muro. That had been around three days ago, certainly that explained why he had felt nauseous out of nowhere.


    Baomiel then let out a breath, ¡°That is a relief. Thank you Hoplite.¡± It said with a smile, ¡°Come, our work is done and you must rest. I will guard the entrance tonight, I do not require rest.¡±


    A short moment of silence passed between the two before Hoplite replied, ¡°Affirmative. I will be taking the wagon inside.¡±


    ¡°Wise.¡± Baomiel replied, ¡°Also, you must not mention Doxhar¡¯s name,¡± Baomiel said quietly once more, ¡°Not to anyone. It is a dangerous name and it would drum up questions that the Pillar-Gods forbid me from answering.¡±


    ¡°Why did you tell me then?¡± Hoplite asked, narrowing his eyes, ¡°Sounds like a security risk.¡±


    ¡°I needed to know if the Pillar-God¡¯s efforts regarding your world had been in vain. Now, if you please¡­¡± Baomiel said, gesturing towards the dark archway of the rest stop.


    ¡°Why can you say the name but no one else? You live here as well.¡± Hoplite asked in his usual monotone, ¡°And what did you mean about your gods efforts for my world? Is Doxhar¡­¡±


    Hoplite suddenly felt nauseous again, yet the intensity of the sickness nearly forced him to vomit, despite his empty stomach. He managed to maintain his composure before Baomiel, standing straight and eye-level with the creature¡¯s upper half. Hoplite would need to eat soon, very soon.


    ¡°I will not answer any more questions on this subject, I am sorry.¡± Baomiel said flatly, ¡°It is what you would call ¡®top secret¡¯. I fear I will be punished for even bringing this up to you, but the Three Heads must know that the Outworld still stands. For their peace of mind.¡±


    Classified intel then. Hoplite had no real reason to share Doxhar¡¯s name with anyone¡­ That was unless it became important. Already there were a dozen more questions Hoplite had for the angel, all of them pertaining to Doxhar and the Pillar-Gods. What were the gods'' efforts concerning Hoplite¡¯s world? Had they been to Earth before? How was Doxhar involved in all this and how could just his name be dangerous?


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    Baomiel did say that there would be consequences for uttering that name, but what were they? Based on what Baomiel claimed, it was safe for Hoplite himself to say Doxhar, but not so for the natives of this planet. Would an Ahkoolian burst into flame on hearing it? Would their deities smite them from afar? Maybe it would just drive them insane, sending them into babbling fits of madness until they finally died. With Hoplite¡¯s mind now open to these possibilities, he knew he couldn¡¯t risk asking those sorts of questions to his team mates.


    From now on, he¡¯d treat mentioning the name of Doxhar as being fatal, just as mention of CHIMERA would be fatal¡­ Just to be safe. Without a word, Hoplite moved away from Baomiel, gripping the wagon¡¯s pull bar and dragging it through the archway. It would be wise for Baomiel to not stand right outside the entrance where it would be visible for any passing Fiends to see. He was about to tell the angel that very thing, but Baomiel had quickly followed after the wagon, indicating that the creature was already very well aware of that fact.


    Turning his attention back ahead of him, Hoplite bumped his chin, enabling his helmet¡¯s night vision to see the extent of the blackened stone hall. It seemed to extend for about a hundred feet or so, with no branching paths leading up to the light that shone at the end of this tunnel. It looked to be torchlight, meaning that the others were just ahead.


    Indeed it wasn¡¯t long before he heard their voices, chatting casually as if there hadn¡¯t been any Fiends within this place. They certainly had enough time to finish scouting the place out while Hoplite and Baomiel cleared out the encroaching Fiends. Hoplite had been afraid that there would be a small horde waiting in here, but it seemed that wasn¡¯t the case. Unless they had already taken care of them, of course. Any injured Fiend within the rest stop would need to be removed from the premises if so.


    ¡°Hey there sir!¡± Michael shouted, shouldering his rifle as Hoplite pulled the wagon into a large circular chamber, ¡°Everything¡¯s clear.¡±


    This massive room was bare of anything save Hoplite and the others. It had to be roughly the same size as the amphitheater on the Sparrow, with four bowl-like grooves set in the ground. Likely those grooves were meant for a fire, but where would the smoke go? Was there a tunnel in the groove that the smoke could be pulled through? Perhaps these weren¡¯t meant to be firepits, but Hoplite found it hard to imagine them being anything else. He bumped his chin, the night-vision disabling and leaving only the light of the team''s torches to see by.


    And Michael¡¯s helmet light, which the marine kept active despite the already burning light sources surrounding him. The battery life on those helmets was long, but that didn¡¯t mean they¡¯d last forever. Hoplite had brought extra batteries for Michael¡¯s helmet, but the marine should still be more conservative with his power usage.


    ¡°Affirmative. Bridge is cleared.¡± Hoplite replied, stopping to duck under the pull bar. ¡°Disable your flashlight unless needed private.¡±


    Michael hesitated for the briefest of instants before he complied, clicking off the light with a slightly shaking hand, ¡°Yes sir.¡± He whispered, tone nervous.


    He¡¯d need to leave his helmet light on for Michael once it was time to douse those torches, which would have to be soon if the smoke couldn¡¯t escape this room. He scanned the chamber again, looking for any potential hazards. This bridge was supposed to be ancient, there was bound to be wear and tear somewhere. What if one of the large stones that made up the ceiling decided to come loose? Each massive brick was roughly the same size as the wagon, if one fell it could crush the team flat. Yet when Hoplite took this time to observe the brickwork, he was shocked to find that there was no weathering to be seen.


    Besides the thick layer of dust coating the stone, there was no damage to be found. This shocked him for a moment before he remembered what the Greatbridge was supposed to be made out of. ¡®Setstone¡¯ Lance had called it. It was supposedly indestructible, or may as well have been considering that nothing had managed to even scratch it across all of Ahkoolis¡¯s long history. Perhaps they really were invincible, after all, the Greatbridges had lasted through ten ages of history.


    Meaning that even these apocalyptic ¡®Godling Wars¡¯ had not managed to bring them down. Was there anything in the Eighth Arm¡¯s arsenal that could even scratch them? He considered for a moment as he ducked under the pull bar, wondering if a standard nuclear detonation could level the construction. Maybe the stones themselves would be spared, but if they all came loose then surely the Greatbridge would fall¡­ Unless the bricks were unable to be separated?


    After ten ages, not even the seams connecting the bricks were worn. Where could setstone be acquired? With its insane durability, there would have to be some way they could be utilized for the war effort.


    ¡°This is home sweet home tonight.¡± Alistair said with a short sigh, ¡°We¡¯ll be able to rest easy, Baomiel will guard the entrance for us.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a relief¡­¡± Lance said with a sigh of her own, ¡°I have no need to sleep just yet, I will help keep watch¡­ though I don¡¯t believe Baomiel will need the aid.¡± She finished, sparing a nervous glance at Alistair.


    Again being an elf came with great advantages, such as a greatly reduced need for sleep. If only that had been a mutation that Hoplite himself had acquired during his infusions, his capabilities in the field would have been greatly enhanced.


    ¡°No,¡± Alistair confirmed with a grin, ¡°But he does enjoy talking if you want to keep him company.¡± Alistair said, nodding to his eidolon¡¯s wide back, ¡°If you aren¡¯t afraid that is.¡±


    Lance gulped as she stared at Baomiel, the lower half''s tongue idly licking the dust from the ground as its upper half kept vigil over the darkened hall.


    ¡°I will try to muster up the courage.¡± Lance said non-committedly.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Alistair said slowly, ¡°As long as you don¡¯t try to shoot him.¡± He finished, sparing a brief withering glare for Michael.


    The marine just shook his head and muttered, ¡°I didn¡¯t know he¡¯d look like that.¡± Under his breath.


    That was right, Michael had never seen Baomiel before. Likely seeing such a creature had prompted Michael¡¯s fight or flight, something that Hoplite didn¡¯t blame him for. After all, Baomiel was¡­ unique, in its appearance.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just get to bed.¡± Elum said with a yawn, ¡°I¡¯m about to fall over and I don¡¯t wanna suffer the curse of consciousness any longer.¡±


    ¡°First,¡± Twindil said, raising a single finger, ¡°We¡¯re going to need Afina¡¯s blessing. It will only take me a few moments, I need to make contact with one of her angels first.¡±


    Angels? Were they like Baomiel or did every deity have their own kind of angel? Did they all work for the Pillar-Gods? It was hard to say, but Twindil might be able to provide more insight on the nature of ¡®angels¡¯. Alistair too could prove to be a valuable source of intel, after all he was bound to Baomiel, who was an angel. Surely he must understand somewhat about how angels operated.


    Kid¡¯ka then not-so-subtly cleared his throat, standing up straight before marching straight up to Hoplite, a nervous grin on his face.


    ¡°While we wait for Twindil¡­ uh, well what I wanna say is, um¡­¡± Kid¡¯ka stuttered, ¡°Do you want to Thoma- wait no sorry.¡± He struggled, ¡°I am changing- no wait that¡¯s not what I meant. I am changeling-¡± He continued, face scrunched up as if he were in agony, ¡°I can¡¯t talk today¡­ I am wanting to Tomkall- Bah!¡± Kid¡¯ka shouted in frustration.


    Hoplite squinted at hearing Kid¡¯ka¡¯s mouth salad. Was the man on some kind of narcotic? Why couldn¡¯t he talk correctly? He didn¡¯t look to be drunk and despite Kid¡¯ka¡¯s broken speech Hoplite could not hear any slur in the pale man¡¯s tone.


    ¡°What I meant to say is, I challenge you to Tomah.¡±

 Chapter Five: Thawing

    Hoplite considered his options as he stared down at Kid¡¯ka. Should he disarm him before he had the chance to swing his blade? The man wasn¡¯t readying to fight just yet from the look of it, his hand was still well away from the hilt of his sword¡­ He must have been waiting for Hoplite¡¯s reply. He supposed that he could just refuse the challenge, and he would need to. Tomah was a fight to the death, from Hoplite¡¯s understanding, so why did Kid¡¯ka want to die? There was no way that he¡¯d stand a chance against Hoplite in a real conflict, surely he was aware of that fact? Unless Tomah was not strictly a fatal challenge? Was this just going to be a friendly bout? It didn¡¯t matter, he had no interest in participating in such a thing. It was a waste of energy, Kid¡¯ka would be hungry after being defeated and their resources needed to be conserved for the journey ahead.


    Hoplite said so aloud, causing Kid¡¯ka¡¯s lips to purse. Twindil simply nodded along with his words, seeming to agree with his point of view on the matter. Kid¡¯ka, however, did not seem keen on Hoplite¡¯s logic.


    ¡°W-we could limit the duel to a single stroke,¡± He reasoned, adjusting his red cape with a shaky hand, ¡°We will both swing at once, whoever gets closest to connecting first is the winner.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t win.¡± Hoplite said simply, moving past him toward Michael and Lance who stood a few dozen paces away, watching silently.


    Alistair whistled with an amused look on his face, and Elum grimaced, pinching the brow of his nose as Kid¡¯ka growled out, ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±


    It was a strange tone, coming from such a socially awkward man. How had Hoplite offended him? It was merely a statement of fact, there was no possible way for Kid¡¯ka to win. It was as simple as that.


    ¡°I do.¡± Hoplite replied curtly as he continued his march.


    Michael stared at Kid¡¯ka as if he¡¯d gone insane. Of course, being a marine, he knew just what Hoplite was capable of, and as such, he knew that Kid¡¯ka could not possibly pull off a win.


    ¡°Are you scared of me, Hero of the Wall?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked with heat in his tone, ¡°Perhaps it is you who cannot defeat me.¡±


    A strange heat spread from the back of Hoplite¡¯s head, spreading down to his neck and nearly causing him to shudder. Not with fear¡­ this was an emotion he¡¯d felt before in the heat of battle with the Final Kind, one he could easily recognize as it reddened his face and bulged his veins.


    It was rage.


    Why did such a small provocation irritate him so? It was childish and unbecoming of one of Terna¡¯s best¡­ yet no matter how hard he tried, he could not seem to reign it in. Why did his cold discipline fail to cool the heat of anger welling up within him? Was this Kazon at work again, pushing him to the brink of blind fury? He briefly glanced at the face¡¯s of everyone else present, but found that they all seemed calm. They weren¡¯t snapping at one another or glaring in any way, all attention seemed purely focused on him and Kid¡¯ka. Was this immature anger coming purely from Hoplite himself? Was there no outside factor forcing him into this borderline tantrum? A cold nervousness soon began to form a pit in his gut as he considered this fact.


    He did not want to become a person¡­ such a path led to dark places for his kind. What if he ended up betraying Lord Jyn as he almost had after being lied to by Hoplite Twenty-Five? He shook his head and kept walking away as he pondered this, his rancor cooling. What if-


    ¡°So you are scared.¡± Kid¡¯ka snarled, crossing his arms, ¡°I did not think that you would be a coward.¡±


    Hoplite whirled with blurring speed and stomped over to the arrogant little man, his steps seeming to shake the whole rest stop as almost every single body moved to intercept his path. Lance grabbed onto his gauntlet and strained, trying to slow him but failing as her heels dragged on the stone. Michael, with wide frightful eyes said something quickly to Hoplite, basically having to jog backwards to avoid being pushed over. With the red filling his vision and clouding his hearing though, he found that the words were inaudible.


    Twindil had tried to grip Kid¡¯ka¡¯s ear, but the man swatted her hand away as he continued to glare up at Hoplite¡¯s helmet, undeterred by the quick-approaching mass of metal. Alistair and Elum seemed to be trying to de-escalate Kid¡¯ka, though their words and logic seemed to slide right off the man as he kept his steady gaze locked on Hoplite. Theopalu and Nolvi, for their part, seemed mostly uninterested in this turn of events. The old elf simply sat down, cross-legged before leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, looking bored and tired as ever. Nolvi only stared, though not at the coming conflict, but at the stonework at her feet.


    Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he was acting like a child, but the anger flooding his veins seemed to have full control of him, and his icy discipline easily melted away from the heat of his fury. It felt almost like it had when Theopalu had angered him back in the wagon, though not quite as intense.


    Hoplite overrode the dozens of voices shouting for reason, nearly shouting, ¡°I accept.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka then backpedaled from the grasping hands of his companions, staying well out of their reach with little effort. Hoplite shrugged out of Lance¡¯s grasp and stomped over to a clear space, well away from the observing party until he was standing directly across from his challenger. Kid¡¯ka rested a hand on the blade of his sword, his stare as unwavering as Hoplite¡¯s own.


    ¡°I see that you two are dead set on this foolishness, but I will not allow you to kill one another.¡± Twindil said, ¡°We are to be companions on this quest, not foes. Do you understand? Hold back.¡± Twindil said in a tone that brooked no argument.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Lance said, stepping between the two of them, ¡°You were just talking about how this was a waste of effort, and you were right. This is a foolish thing to be doing now, I wouldn¡¯t have expected you of all people to act like this. Is there something wrong? Does Kazon have his talons in you both again?¡± She asked, her eyes flicking in Kid¡¯ka¡¯s direction.


    Twindil shook her head, ¡°It is unlikely, I think we¡¯d all be feeling the hatred right now¡­ unless the Lord of Hate can be selective. I am not sure.¡± She admitted, ¡°It would take immense skill to accomplish that if he¡¯s far off, more skill than he should have.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been alive for over a millenia,¡± Elum stated, ¡°Maybe he can?¡±


    Twindil shook her head, ¡°I do not think so. You should know how wily and fickle Foundation can be if cast from a great distance.¡±


    Elum nodded, scratching a single red cheek as he considered this.


    Lance¡¯s lips tightened as she glared up at Hoplite, ¡°If that¡¯s what¡¯s going on, then why are you choosing to act like a bull-headed ape?¡± She asked, wagging a finger right in front of his helmet. She had to stand on her tip-toes in order to accomplish this. ¡°Let¡¯s just go and get settled in for the night, you need rest for the journey tomorrow.¡±


    The rational part of his brain agreed with Lance whole-heartedly, but the heat in his blood simply would not be sated until he put Kid¡¯ka in his place. Again a small knot of cold fear formed in his gut, a fear of the return of human emotion. If Hoplite thawed, he wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d ever be able to go back to being the tool he was meant to be¡­ Which was exactly what happened to Twenty-Five. Unfortunately, that cold fear did nothing to stifle the rage filling him. It was like dropping an ice-cube into a pool of roiling magma.


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    ¡°It is too late.¡± Kid¡¯ka said sharply, ¡°He has already agreed to Tomah, please stand aside.¡±


    Elum snorted, ¡°Of course you can talk normal now that you¡¯re about to fight. Why is that?¡± He asked, a single white brow quirking.


    Kid¡¯ka did not reply.


    ¡°It will only be one blow.¡± Hoplite told Lance, ¡°Then it will be done.¡± She shook her head, clearly exasperated by his behavior. ¡°I¡¯ll hold back.¡± He reassured her, picking her up by the shoulders and setting her down out of his path.


    She seemed greatly angered by this, judging by the way she had slapped his breastplate once her feet were on the ground again. Her attack had been slowed greatly by the kinetic shield surrounding him, so when the blow had connected, it barely made a sound. Lance seemed shocked by this before she regained her composure, crossing her arms as she glared up at him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that again.¡± She told him with a huff, ¡°And come on, you know this is stupid. You said it yourself, why waste the energy?¡± She asked irritatedly.


    ¡°This won¡¯t use up any significant amount, it isn¡¯t like this is going to be hard.¡± Hoplite told her without turning his head.


    Kid¡¯ka visibly bristled at the words, brows knitting together above a furious glare. He drew his longsword, holding it at the ready before approaching Hoplite. Elum, Twindil, Michael, and Alistair all stepped aside, forming an oval semi-circle around them. The two then began to close the space between themselves, Hoplite drawing the Sectis and holding it in a reverse grip. Lance opened her mouth, likely to try to deter the coming conflict, but just as quickly shut it, shaking her head as she stared at the two men with annoyed concern.


    The rest just watched silently, arranged in a semi-circle around him and Kid¡¯ka. Once they were finally within striking distance of one another, they lashed out. Time slowed for Hoplite, as it often did when in conflict, and he was shocked to see that Kid¡¯ka¡¯s swing was coming at a remarkable speed¡­ Near-superhuman in fact. He doubted that any normal person would be able to see the strike coming. It was incredibly impressive for a non-augmented human to accomplish.


    Hoplite deflected the blade with the Sectis just before it connected with his breastplate, knocking Kid¡¯ka¡¯s arm in the air before Hoplite counter-thrusted for the man¡¯s throat. He stopped just before the Sectis could penetrate, leaving it a mere inch from the man¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Dead.¡± Hoplite said simply before sheathing the knife.


    A sense of self-satisfaction came over him then. He felt the muscles in his face morph it into a strange expression, one he¡¯d never made before. The sides of his mouth quirked up in a smirk as his eyes narrowed lazily. Was this¡­ smugness? His mouth seemed to open against his will, ready to spill out immature insults that would do nothing to de-escalate the situation. He wanted to belittle Kid¡¯ka, to tell him that his form was trash and that he should just give up swordplay entirely. He wanted to say that no one so weak would have been able to defeat him and that this was going to have been the outcome no matter what. He wanted to brag about the foes he¡¯d fought and killed that would make Kid¡¯ka look pathetic. His mind worked quickly to produce these taunts, surprising him with just how varied and vile they were. He was shocked that his mind was even capable of readying such unneeded garbage to spew¡­


    This wasn¡¯t normal. He was thawing more quickly than he had when stranded with Twenty-Five¡­ but why? And why now of all times? Steely discipline seized his disobedient lips and held them firmly shut. Kid¡¯ka stared at his sword in shock before looking at the Sectis sheathed at Hoplite¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°A fine blade to deflect my Reaver without a scratch¡­¡± The man stated, holding his sword up to inspect its edge, ¡°And you have fast hands as well. Tomah is yours.¡± He finished, sheathing his blade at his belt before turning away from Hoplite. His hand shook lightly on the hilt of his sword, either from grief at his loss or barely contained rage, Hoplite wasn¡¯t sure.


    At his words and behavior, the smugness in Hoplite¡¯s face melted away. Instead, guilt began to eat at his insides for coming up with all those rude things to say¡­ despite Hoplite not even uttering any of them aloud. For some reason he felt the need to try to¡­ to try and¡­ to try and make Kid¡¯ka feel¡­ better?


    ¡°...You have fast hands too.¡± He told Kid¡¯ka after a brief silence, ¡°There aren¡¯t many people that can move that way. It is impressive.¡±


    At these words, the shaking of Kid¡¯ka¡¯s hand seemed to ease, and he turned back around, a pleasant smile on his face. ¡°Thank you, I appreciate your praise. Let us have Tomah again in the future, when I have grown stronger.¡±


    Hoplite simply nodded, his shoulders easing as an alien relief began to fill him. Why was he happy that he had not left Kid¡¯ka offended? Normally, he wouldn¡¯t have cared in the slightest¡­ but now¡­


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He replied before promptly moving away.


    He wanted to inspect those strange little bowl-like grooves he¡¯d seen earlier. What was their function? Were they meant to be fire pits after all? Where would the smoke go if that were the case? What would be burned, there was no wood here besides what was packed into the cart¡­ unless that was what was intended? Were travelers expected to bring their own wood to burn? That might take up needed cargo space depending on what was being hauled.


    He almost sighed. He was only trying to distract himself from his thawing emotions¡­ deep down, he knew this. There had to be a way to reverse this, to become cold and lifeless once more. But how?


    Lance and Michael followed after him as he went, the latter looking exhausted while the former looked mildly irritated. Michael would get his sleep here soon, and Lance¡­ why did he feel the need to try and calm her mood? She was an adult, she should realize that this fight had been a decision between him and Kid¡¯ka and leave it at that.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Theopalu stared at Hoplite out of the corner of his eye. Young Lancela really seemed to be giving him a good prodding for his behavior. She was acting like she was his damn wife, nagging him for getting into a bar brawl. That might not be a good idea for her at this point in time¡­ considering what Theopalu had inadvertently done to him. It really was an accident¡­ How was Theopalu to know that Hoplite possessed the blood of a Dragon? Considering how cold and disciplined Hoplite normally was, he had to have been crafted from childhood to be a warrior, at least that was his theory¡­ but ever since Theopalu had ignited the heat of fury in his blood, there had been a subtle change in the massive man.


    It was only natural, his kind and the children of Dragons have never gotten along. It was an almost animal-like instinct, and Theopalu himself felt that long forgotten rage fill him at the mere sight of the Outworlder. Only his millennias long life of discipline had managed to keep it hidden and in check, but he hated Hoplite with every fiber of his being. It was something he was almost glad for, Theopalu had barely felt anything for thousands of years, so to feel something so strongly again¡­ it made him borderline joyous.


    But only borderline. The hate he felt for Hoplite kept it from crossing the threshold into happiness, but still this was preferable to nothing, he admitted to himself. The Outworlder had done nothing to slight him, nor was he an old enemy from ages past¡­ meaning that he could only be the child of a Dragon, or that he possessed the blood of one.


    A slew of intrusive thoughts began to permeate his mind, plotting on the best way to kill Hoplite before he could grow to be a real threat. He dismissed these thoughts and buried them, unwanting and unwilling to commit to any of them. He had no real interest in ending the Outworlder¡¯s life, it was merely his instincts that desired it, but not Theopalu himself.


    He would ignore them.


    He eased into a slouch before coming to sit cross-legged, his eyes heavy despite his ravenous hunger. Thankfully no one had questioned him too much on why he had to consume so much food in a day, if they found out, they¡¯d surely boot him from their little party. Well, maybe they would anyway. They could not afford to be rid of him quite yet, as they would surely die in the Fiendwood without his guidance.


    Even if they bore divine blood as he suspected, these young Pillar-Born could not withstand the terrors of Kazon¡¯s realm alone, not yet. Theopalu rubbed at tired eyes, yawning as everyone began chattering. Talking took up so much effort, yet everyone seemed to be eager to waste their energy on yapping. They should be getting as much sleep as they can.


    It did not take long for Theopalu to fall into a semi-slumber. Even if he was an elf, having a body this old meant that he needed quite a bit of rest. Could it be time for a switch? Maybe¡­ that would likely happen quite a few times in the days to come, and no doubt this party would have questions from him that he would not wish to answer. Soon, the chattering voices of his young companions faded into incomprehensible jargon before he heard nothing at all.


    That night, he dreamt of a gigantic crimson octopus, floating in a black void. White pinpricks surrounded the creature, stretching out in their multitudes like grains of sand. In this void, the octopus seemed to travel for eternity, clearly lost as it wandered the infinite blackness, using the white pinpricks to guide its way. Eventually, the octopus found a blue and green sphere, its tendrils reaching out toward it to grasp it with a desperate tightness.


    And it never let go.

 Chapter Six: A Tool, Nothing More

    ¡°Thirty-seven!¡± Twenty-five shouted, barely dodging his massive fist, ¡°It was all a lie, we¡¯re not serving the pinnacle of man!¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t serving as you should.¡± Hoplite said coldly, ¡°A broken tool is useless, if I can¡¯t bring you back for re-indoctrination, then I will neutralize you.¡±


    It was unfortunate that he¡¯d been disarmed, twenty-five had always been proficient at taking an enemy''s weapon from them¡­ Yet only in that did twenty-five have an advantage. Thirty-seven was superior at CQC, the best among all the Hoplite¡¯s, twenty-five didn¡¯t stand a chance. He would either kill or subdue the rogue Hoplite and return him, alive or dead, to the Eigtht Arm. Their surroundings were dark, the lights having been disabled when a stray round had punched through this bunker¡¯s generator. The only reason the two super-soldiers were unaffected was their matching golden-eyes, each pair set behind thick one-sided visors. They allowed them to see in near pitch darkness, even without the night-vision capabilities of their helmets.


    ¡°Jyn isn¡¯t a human!¡± Twenty-five shouted, ¡°He¡¯s some kind of extraterrestrial, not a man!¡±


    Anger flared at this outrageous claim, and his fists became a flurry, impossible to see with the naked eye. Twenty-five only barely managed to keep on the defensive, backing away and blocking whatever he could manage.


    ¡°Humans don¡¯t live forever thirty-seven!¡± Twenty-five shouted, ¡°You know they don¡¯t, no matter what!¡±


    ¡°We will!¡± Hoplite shouted back, throwing out a right jab ¡°Our lord doesn¡¯t age as standard humans, just like the Hoplites!¡±


    ¡°We were only made a couple centuries ago, Jyn showed up two-thousand years ago, humans didn¡¯t have the tech for longevity then!¡± He replied as he batted away the jab.


    A massive armor-plated boot then crashed into twenty-five¡¯s chest-plate, knocking the faulty Hoplite to his back with a groan of pain. His mind worked as it pondered the words. He tried to dismiss them, to write them off as foolish babble so he could finish his objective, but he hesitated.


    Two thousand years ago¡­ A human living two-thousand years¡­ from that era?


    He grit his teeth as he stomped over to his former comrade, a massive gauntlet wrapping around twenty-five¡¯s helmet before he ripped it off. Familiar golden eyes stared up into thirty-seven¡¯s helmet and oddly, he smiled.


    ¡°You hesitated.¡± Twenty-five stated, his short black hair and tanned skin drenched with sweat, ¡°You gave it some thought just then¡­ didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Shut your mouth.¡± Hoplite growled, ¡°Twenty-five, you are under arrest by order of-¡±


    ¡°Piss with your orders!¡± Twenty-five spat, ¡°And my name isn¡¯t twenty-five, it¡¯s He-¡±


    An open palmed slap powerful enough to kill a normal man shut twenty-five¡¯s mouth, spots of orange glowing blood spurting from his mouth. He needed to reign in his temper and not let this traitor aggravate him. If Hoplite pushed twenty-five into going Wendigo, he¡¯d have no choice but to neutralize him.


    ¡°Please¡­¡± Twenty-five pleaded, ¡°Just listen to me Jason!¡±


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Hoplite¡¯s eyes quickly shot open, and he sat up immediately, already wide-awake. That day¡¯s events replaying itself in his dreams had set him into fight or flight¡­


    Lance jumped at his sudden motion, putting a hand to her chest before letting out a sigh, ¡°Can¡¯t wake up like a normal person, can you?¡± She asked with a shake of her head, ¡°Nearly made my heart explode.¡±


    She was sitting down, right in between him and a snoozing Michael atop a bedroll. She hadn¡¯t needed to sleep of course, being what she was. He wondered why she had even bothered unpacking her sleeping gear, it hadn¡¯t been necessary to do so. Then again, it was likely that she hadn¡¯t wanted to sit on the cold hard stone all night. He himself hadn¡¯t bothered with his own oversized blanket, instead opting to sleep inside his armor in case of an attack from the Fiends. With the armor regulating the internal temperature, there was no need for warmth, and despite its looks, the Phalanx suit was far from uncomfortable.


    ¡°I¡¯m not normal.¡± He replied, standing from the cool stone.


    He needed to get his mind off the dream¡­


    Sleep had come fairly easily last night after investigating the three strange grooves in the rest stop. As it turned out, each one possessed a deep hole that was seemingly drilled down its center, each almost as wide as a manhole. Two of them had a strange suction to them, a light tugging that gently pulled out the air around it. He had thought that perhaps they could have been used for fire pits, being able to pull out the smoke from the bottom and disperse it elsewhere. Yet, he found this idea flawed. Wouldn¡¯t any fire that got started be sucked down into the hole before it could properly spread? If the fire was large enough, it might have been okay, but the initial flame would not likely be able to last long enough for that to happen.


    Maybe that was what the third hole could be used for, but that one lacked any kind of suction. It was simply a hole, either not functioning as it should or intended for something different. Indeed, it was used for something very different when some of the party inevitably needed to dispose of waste. Now that he thought of it, that could have been the third groove''s intended purpose.


    ¡°Hoplite?¡± Lance asked.


    He looked to her, ¡°I was thinking of holes.¡± He replied calmly as he adjusted his sheath.


    Lance¡¯s eyes knit together and she gave him this strange, confused look, ¡°Are you joking?¡± She asked.


    Hoplite blinked before replying flatly, ¡°No.¡± She should know by now that he never joked, ¡°Everyone else is asleep.¡± He observed, head tilting to the prone forms laying flat in their bedrolls.


    The hard stone was likely not the most comfortable of places to rest, even with the added cushion of their bedrolls, yet they snored on, almost as if they had been drugged. Twindil in particular looked almost comatose. He had heard her complaining about a lack of sleep earlier, perhaps yesterday¡¯s trip had tired her out more than he thought. Yet that was irrelevant right now, the squad needed to get up so they could hurry across the bridge, and the earlier they started, the better. He checked his HUD¡¯s clock, seeing that it was around 0300, and they had all fallen asleep approximately four hours ago. Surely that was more than enough rest to get them all going. He moved towards Michael, but Lance raised a hand, shaking her head.


    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± She told him with a small huff, ¡°And I know you¡¯re in a hurry, but they aren¡¯t like you, they need more rest than this.¡±


    Hoplite stared at her for a long moment before he said, ¡°You can read my thoughts?¡±


    Didn¡¯t she need eye contact for that? No¡­ she didn¡¯t actually know what he was thinking, Lance had merely made a guess based on how well she knew Hoplite. Had they really been together for that long that she could assume his next course of action? It had only been days really, but they had practically spent every waking moment in each other¡¯s company since his landing. He opened his mouth to clarify that she wasn¡¯t actually a mind-reader, but it was too late.


    She gave a quiet giggle, ¡°Don¡¯t be silly.¡± She told him with another shake of her head, ¡°I just guessed.¡±


    He knew that, but now she thought that he believed her capable of it. For some reason, this mildly irritated him. He did not like the thought of Lance considering him as ¡®silly¡¯. He was serious. He looked back down at Michael, who occasionally muttered incoherently in his sleep. Hoplite had to keep his flashlight enabled for the marine until he had finally fallen unconscious, the fear of the dark still being fresh in his mind. He found himself wishing that Michael would get over it already, but he understood that the trauma Michael went through wouldn¡¯t simply ¡®go away¡¯. He was only human.


    ¡°The more time we waste,¡± Hoplite whispered, ¡°The more provisions we lose, and the longer my comrades are in danger.¡±


    ¡°They all still need to sleep, it¡¯s way too early for them to get back in that wooden death-box.¡± She insisted, pointing a thumb back towards the entrance.


    The wagon stood there, with Baomiel¡¯s looming shadow barely visible behind it. No Fiends must have come this way then, for if Baomiel had entered combat, then Hoplite would have been the first one to awaken. Those mutants really did have only one goal: to reach the Fiendwall. They were completely disinterested in checking these old rest stops for victims to soothe their pains.


    Considering how much rest this squad would apparently need, that was a good thing. The pace would be even slower if no one could sleep. If only they were all elves like Lance¡­ only needing around two hours of sleep in a week would be incredibly useful in an operation like this. Twindil was apparently half-elf, so she still needed more rest than one of full blood, but Theopalu had no excuse. The Watcher was constantly napping when he wasn¡¯t eating. He may have been old, but that shouldn¡¯t have increased his need to rest by such a large margin. From what Hoplite could see, Theopalu was still fit, and Lance herself had confirmed that he was one of the best Watchers the Faewood had to offer.


    Seeing the ancient elf curled up snoring in a ball made that hard to believe. His putrid face irritated Hoplite the longer he continued to stare at it. A strange urge filled him then, nearly driving him to charge over to Theopalu to stomp his head into paste. Discipline reigned in this unwarranted hatred, and he turned his attention forcefully away from the elf¡¯s prone form. It couldn¡¯t be Kazon¡¯s influence, not after the ritual Twindil had performed last night to protect everyone¡¯s minds. Was Hoplite too far away from the paladin for her ritual to take effect?


    Twindil had told them all to stay within two-hundred paces of her, if it could be helped, letting out an aura that forcefully dulled negative emotions such as anger. Then again, she had also clarified that it simply dulled negative emotions, not erase them completely. There had still been minor squabbles between party members before it had been time to rest. Perhaps Kazon¡¯s influence and Twindil¡¯s magic simply canceled each other out? How far away did Kazon have to be for his magic to affect them? Surely greater than Twindil¡¯s two hundred paces, but what if he was only slightly further away than that? What if he was following them, staying just out of sight? He pondered this for a split-second before he dismissed the idea. Hoplite hadn¡¯t seen anything that had been following them for the journey thus far, so unless Kazon could make himself invisible, it wasn¡¯t likely.


    Yet, he knew now that such things were not impossible on Ahkoolis. He could be wearing a cloak like that of the day-watchers, something that shifted to match the colors of one''s environment. It wasn¡¯t too difficult for him to spot such concealment, but maybe Kazon had different methods of doing so? Hoplite bumped his chin, enabling his helmet''s infrared. Several spots of warmth popped up, each where a member of the squad lay. No extra heat signature¡¯s could be seen around the rest stop, but he didn¡¯t drop his guard. Kazon might not have a heat signature after all, or he could conceal it. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time he¡¯d encountered such a foe. Swaglay; the tentacled aliens of the Final Kind, were capable of it either through way of advanced tech or some kind of biological capability.


    He¡¯d make the party aware of this potential danger when they awoke. His eyes then passed over Theopalu¡¯s sleeping form again, rage and disgust filling him once more as he glared at the creature¡¯s vile face. He should crush it in his hands, should mangle it beyond repair, should- He shook himself, looking to Twindil once more, trying to determine if he was within her range. Two hundred paces was what she had said. He calculated the distance, seeing that he and everyone else were well within her given estimate. If he was still being affected by Twindil¡¯s magic¡­ then again, why was he feeling this way about Theopalu? If Kazon and Twindil¡¯s magic simply canceled one another out, then there was no real reason for him to feel this intense rancor toward the elf. He racked his mind for a long while, but found nothing that was logical. Could it just be that he simply hated him and that was that? Can a person really come to despise someone based on nothing but their face?


    He didn¡¯t know. When he had first met Theopalu back in the Faewood, Hoplite hadn¡¯t felt any sort of emotion about the old man one way or another. So why now?


    ¡°Do you understand what I¡¯m saying?¡± Lance asked, drawing him from his thoughts, ¡°Normal people need actual sleep.¡±


    After a moment, he replied, ¡°Affirmative. Two more hours should be optimal for recovery.¡±


    He was glad to turn his thoughts elsewhere, he¡¯d thank Lance for pulling him out of his own head but showing gratitude for such a thing might lead to uncomfortable questions. He doubted that Lance would like hearing that he¡¯d kill Theopalu if he had the chance.


    Lance grimaced at his words, ¡°Just let them wake up on their own, don¡¯t disturb them. If you think about it,¡± She continued, tapping her temple, ¡°The more rested they are, the longer they can stay in the cart without complaining.¡± She said with emphasis.


    ¡­That was a good point. He grew irritated with the constant complaints they made, as if that would do anything to change their collective situation. Why was it that normal people, no matter what dimension; only seemed to complain? It was unnecessary and a waste of time, if only they would stop-


    He paused in his thinking as a realization came over him.


    He was complaining to himself. About other people complaining.


    Instead of continuing on this train of thought, he told Lance, ¡°Affirmative.¡± There were other objectives that could be accomplished anyhow, this time could be spent gathering intel from Lance. There had been things that he¡¯d been meaning to ask her, things that had been put on the back-burner for far too long. ¡°I have some questions I would like to ask.¡± He said, moving to stand over her.


    Lance craned her head back, staring flatly up at him as he loomed over her ¡°I am not going to talk to you like this, it¡¯s not going to kill you to sit.¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s brow furrowed. It wouldn¡¯t kill her to simply look up either, it wasn¡¯t physically straining. Yet, Hoplite found himself lowering himself to the ground, crossing his large metal clad legs as he finished. The clanging of this motion caused a few of the others to grumble in their sleep, with Elum yelling ¡°Keep it down!¡± Before rolling over in his bedroll.


    ¡°Shut up Elum!¡± Alistair shouted.


    ¡°You shut up, no-horn!¡± Elum shouted back.


    This hostile interaction between the two confirmed one of two possibilities to Hoplite. One, Twindil¡¯s nullifying aura did not work when she was sleeping, or two, Kazon¡¯s influence was canceled out by the active suppression. It was hard to tell, but when Twindil awoke he¡¯d ask her what she thought. After a bit more grumbling, the two eventually fell back into rest. Lance shook her head and looked back to Hoplite with a sigh.


    ¡°What did you want to ask me?¡± She whispered.


    ¡°Foundation.¡± Hoplite whispered back, ¡°What exactly is it?¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Lance drew her lips to a tight line for a moment, leaning back on her palms as she thought, ¡°Foundation is the basis for magic on Ahkoolis, you can¡¯t cast anything without it.¡± She said after a moment.


    ¡°I heard that it was related to Draoi,¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Does he control it?¡±


    Lance nodded, ¡°Draoi is the Pillar-God of Foundation, and the patron deity of all elves. You could say that he is magic.¡± She continued, wiggling her fingers for emphasis, ¡°The three Pillar-Gods beneath him are Kyria, Dandenlona, and Fikchon, each representing one of the Three Houses of Magic. Fikchon represents Community, Dandenlona represents Nature, and Kyria represents Force.¡±


    ¡°Is Foundation a raw force then?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°Does it need to be filtered through one of these ¡®Houses¡¯ to be useful?¡±


    Lance blinked, seemingly surprised, then nodded once more, ¡°That¡¯s right¡­ for the most part anyhow. There are some that are able to utilize raw Foundation without building one of the Three Houses, but it isn¡¯t easy and can be extraordinarily dangerous.¡± She gestured with a thumb back toward Alistair¡¯s bedroll, ¡°He uses raw Foundation, I saw him do it when we first met them back in the Faewood, near your pod.¡±


    ¡°I remember.¡± Hoplite replied.


    Alistair had conjured some gold-colored fire and had imbued his hammer with it to devastating effect. The Fiends that had ambushed them had been turned to little more than soot-stains as soon as they came into contact with that Golden Flame. It had not seemed that the blonde man had been in any real danger when using it, and he showed no signs of fatigue after that battle had been won. How dire were the consequences of using raw Foundation then?


    ¡°How is it dangerous though?¡± He asked, ¡°What will happen in the worst-case scenario?¡±


    Lance bit her lip as she thought, a long moment passing before she finally gave him an answer. ¡°Think of a House as a glove,¡± She started, ¡°And you want to retrieve something from the oven. If you use the glove to get your food from the oven, you won''t get burnt, but if you use your bare hand¡­ Well I¡¯m sure you can imagine.¡±


    ¡°So why use raw Foundation at all? Why take the risk?¡± Hoplite asked, crossing his arms over his chest plate.


    It sounded completely and totally unnecessary. Why not mitigate the risk to oneself when casting magic? Why not ¡®build¡¯ one of the Three Houses to keep yourself safe? There had to be some kind of advantage in echewing the use of these ¡®Houses¡¯, otherwise it would be plain idiotic to go without. The question was, what was this hypothetical advantage? Was magic more potent if used that way? Was it really so much more powerful when used raw that it was worth the risk of killing oneself? And this was just assuming that there really was an inherent advantage to using Foundation in its base form. If there was no good reason to build a House, then it was a poor, and frankly stupid, choice to make. Alistair did not seem to be mentally challenged, but perhaps he just hid it well? Then again, Hoplite would not have an easy time identifying a mentally disabled person. The Eighth Arm hardly ever took on such people unless recruitment quotas were not being met.


    ¡°The glove can be tight, and it''s restrictive, without much freedom of motion.¡± Lance explained after another moment, ¡°You are limited in what you can do inside of the glove, the fingers are trapped right? But if your hand is uncovered, you can manipulate your hand however you want.¡±


    So it wasn¡¯t as simple as raw Foundation being more powerful¡­ rather, it allowed more options in casting. Still though, why not simply build the House that was required if that were the case? There still seemed to be no real reason to cast without the Houses. Perhaps it was a matter of time? Did the building take a long time to do? Combat situations could be ended in mere seconds; if the Houses took an inordinate amount of time to use, then he could understand utilizing raw Foundation, even considering the risks. After all, it was doubtful that a mage could build a House if they were cut down before they finished.


    Yet, he remembered that Elum had also used magic that day, summoning strings of acid that melted whatever it touched. There had been no Golden Flame in his usage of Foundation, could it be assumed that he had built a House? It hadn¡¯t taken any perceivable amount of time for him to do it if that were the case. He would ask the red mutant about it after he woke up. Both Elum and Alistair, not to mention Twindil would likely be more useful to learn about this particular subject from than Lance, who didn¡¯t use magic at all. Still though, she proved surprisingly knowledgeable about this topic. Perhaps she had once desired to be a mage herself and had studied it?


    ¡°So building a House to use Foundation is safer, but it restricts what is possible with magic.¡± He said.


    Lance smiled and nodded, ¡°Yes exactly, raw Foundation can be used to do practically anything, but then you open yourself up to being burnt. I heard that the lucky ones who get scorched by Foundation only find that they can¡¯t cast as much as they could before, but not many people ¡®lucky¡¯.¡± She said, air quoting the word, ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard, most people become unable to cast at all, or worse, they are immolated by Golden Fire, with not a trace left of them afterward. Alistair is playing with the most dangerous Fire in creation, and what¡¯s scary is that he¡¯s pretty good at it, from what I¡¯ve seen.¡± She then held up her hands, palms forward. "Keep in mind that I''m no expert, I just have a cousin that¡¯s in the field and I¡¯m just basing my explanation off what she¡¯s told me in the past.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He said with a nod, ¡°What¡¯s the point of using Foundation raw if it''s so dangerous?¡± He asked, ¡°I understand that it¡¯s less restrictive, but I don¡¯t see any real reason to not simply build the House that¡¯s required for the spell a mage would want to utilize.¡±


    Lance hesitated, squinting before finally she said, ¡°There are some spells that can only be used with the Golden Flame specifically¡­ I think. I¡¯m not sure what spells but maybe you can ask Alistair about it once he wakes up.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Is there a way to learn it?¡±


    If he could learn how to use Foundation for himself, his capabilities in combat would expand exponentially. He wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d be able to use magic once he left this dimension, but for his stay here it could prove crucial to his mission. Lance however, shook her head.


    ¡°You need to have the Blood of Zodd to call on Foundation, and since you¡¯re an Outworlder, it wouldn¡¯t be possible for you to learn it.¡± She told him with a shrug, ¡°You¡¯re plenty enough dangerous as it is, seeing you cast magic on top of everything else would probably be overkill.¡± She finished placing a single finger on her chin, seemingly in thought. ¡°Overkill indeed.¡± She continued after a moment.


    ¡°Why would I need to have the Blood of Zodd in order to cast?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°I thought magic came from Draoi.¡±


    ¡°It does,¡± Lance confirmed, ¡°But life on Ahkoolis was forged from Zodd¡¯s Blood, infused with Draoi¡¯s essence, with both Gods being guided by Saihara herself in the process. Foundation is present in all those who were born of Ahkoolis, but Foundation is only present if Zodd¡¯s Blood is as well. One cannot exist without the other, so you¡¯d need both to cast.¡±


    It was unfortunate that he would not be able to learn magic, but it was impossible that he had any Ahkoolian DNA. There was no use in lamenting the fact.


    ¡°I see.¡± He said, ¡°I have other things I want to ask.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try to help you where I can, but I don¡¯t know everything.¡± She said, ¡°Just keep that in mind.¡±


    Hoplite nodded, looking over to the sleeping form of Kid¡¯ka, ¡°What is the purpose of the Tongues of Zodd?¡± He asked, ¡°I understand that they want to impress Zodd, but is there any other reason besides that?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re really talkative today,¡± Lance said with a grin, ¡°Usually it¡¯s ¡®negative¡¯ this or ¡®affirmative¡¯ that, it''s a nice change.¡± She continued, using a bad mockery of his usual monotone and deepening her voice for emphasis.


    He didn¡¯t reply, letting the silence stretch on for a long while until finally Lance tightened her lips.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she said with a sigh, ¡°I¡¯m no expert on the Tongues. If you want a better answer, you can wait for Kid¡¯ka to wake up. Really I know about as much of them as you do now, except I don¡¯t think you know about the rivalry they have with the Black Talons of Ankoriss.¡±


    Ankoriss¡­ he was another one of the Pillar-Gods, Hoplite remembered hearing about him before, during his long talk with Mangwin at the Death-Day celebration. He was a member of the Pillar of Might beneath Zodd, the Pillar-God of Destruction.


    ¡°The Black Talons and the Tongues, since their founding, always have been enemies. Since the beginning of Decuma.¡± Lance explained, ¡°The Talons are a very¡­ abrasive bunch, commonly known for banditry and senseless ruination, as Ankoriss desires. They exist to please Ankoriss, not impress him, like the Tongues do for Zodd.¡±


    ¡°Would they be hostile on sight?¡± Hoplite asked.


    Lance nodded, her green eyes seeming to gleam with fiery anger, ¡°I¡¯ve had occasional run-ins with them during my tenure as a Watcher.¡± She said, the bitterness in her voice barely contained, ¡°Whenever their kind try to come to the Faewood, it''s always for the same purpose. To burn it down.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve had to neutralize Talons.¡± Hoplite stated.


    It wasn¡¯t a question, there was only one thing a Watcher would do to those trying to burn down their trees.


    Lance nodded, confirming his suspicion, ¡°About thirty of them, give or take over my two-hundred years serving the Harkhall.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, Talons will be considered hostile until proven otherwise.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°I have another question of more immediate importance to our mission.¡± Lance then sat straighter, staring directly into his helmet as he asked, ¡°What is Spiraling Death exactly?¡±


    Lance took a deep breath before she began, a slight quaver in her voice to start, ¡°It is¡­ it is death, the fate of all those who live, or at least it was.¡±


    ¡°Was?¡± Hoplite asked.


    Lance¡¯s face darkened as she said, ¡°It was the path to the afterlife, the path that led lost souls to their worshiped Pillar-God. There are Nine Heavens, and Nine Hells, a pair for each god.¡±


    ¡°How did Kazon steal it if it¡¯s a pathway?¡± Hoplite asked. ¡°I thought it was a curse.¡±


    It didn¡¯t make sense. A path to an afterlife wasn¡¯t a physical object that could just be taken by anyone¡­ at least, he assumed it wasn¡¯t. How was it possible that Kazon got his hands on it? Perhaps through the use of raw Foundation? Yet, why would the various Pillar-Gods not stop him from doing this? Were they restricted from interacting with mortals, even if it meant preserving the way their world worked?


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure as to how he did it,¡± Lance admitted, ¡°I only know that he took it from the Spiral Queen Lithia, and him doing so corrupted it.¡±


    ¡°Is she another Pillar-God?¡± He asked.


    She shook her head, ¡°No, she was a mortal. There is currently no God of Death in the Pantheon¡­ I have heard it said that the Godling War of Decuma will be to determine who will become the Pillar-God of Death. If that¡¯s true, then I wonder which of the three Pillars that would fall under.¡± She continued, head tilting back as she thought. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be Might¡­ I don¡¯t think, Might¡¯s more associated with life and power than death.¡±


    ¡°Ankoriss is the Pillar-God of destruction.¡± He said flatly.


    ¡°...Um.¡± Lance blinked, ¡°Well¡­ I mean¡­ that still is related to power, right?¡±


    Hoplite nodded after a brief moment.


    ¡°Let''s see then¡­ maybe Knowledge?¡± She seemed to ask herself, scrunching her brow, ¡°You ¡®know¡¯ death after you pass from this life? Bah,¡± She said with a wave of her hand, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Those theories about the next Pillar-God being death could be wrong anyway, no real point in blundering in the dark about it.¡±


    He nodded before asking, ¡°Who was Lithia?¡±


    She was the one who originally possessed Spiralling Death, maybe some intel could be gleaned from learning about her. It had been stolen once before, maybe it could be stolen from Kazon himself. If that would deprive the Lord of Hate of his capabilities, then it would need to be done.


    ¡°She was a mortal, like I said, entrusted by the Pillar¡¯s with the path to the afterlife¡­ She¡¯s been a prominent figure that has been remembered throughout all the ages, even since the First Age.¡± She replied, ¡°Some cultures did believe that she was some sort of god, or perhaps an angel like Baomiel, but elven records have confirmed that she was a mortal.¡±


    ¡°How accurate are elven records?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°I understand that you live long lives, but considering each Godling War that has occured throughout your history, I doubt that anything elves wrote about her remained perfectly accurate to the truth.¡±


    Lance seemed taken aback a moment, and squinted at him for a brief instant before she said, ¡°Everything that we¡¯ve managed to save from the previous ages remains intact and precise. We wouldn¡¯t lie about the history we¡¯ve kept.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that for sure.¡± Hoplite replied in his monotone.


    For some reason, Lance frowned at his words, her eyes widening a fraction, ¡°Are you saying that our rememberers are liars?¡± She asked with barely contained heat.


    ¡°I¡¯m saying that, taking into account this world''s history, that it would be close to impossible to keep accurate records.¡± He told her. She seemed to grimace, more at herself than him. Had she misunderstood him just then?


    ¡°I see¡­ Well that doesn¡¯t sound improbable. The ends of the ages are violent and chaotic after all.¡± She said after a moment, nodding.


    ¡°Of course, it is also possible that some documents were falsified.¡± He told her with a small nod.


    This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, for Lance¡¯s face somehow managed to turn into a brilliant shade of crimson in but an instant.


    ¡°Elven historians would never do such a thing!¡± She half-whispered, half-shouted at him, ¡°To imply such is an insult to our records; Draoi himself tasked my people with maintaining perfectly accurate lore, and any who pursue that path would not ever stray from the truth.¡±


    ¡°Unless they had something to gain from doing it.¡± He told her with a small shrug, ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s happened before.¡±


    To say that someone could maintain a one-hundred percent accuracy in historical records was simply impossible. Especially considering the turbulent history of this world. Documents and books would have been destroyed or altered one way or another, either on purpose or by accident. Even Terna¡¯s own history could be warped by shoddy historians, but thankfully they had Lord Jyn to keep things accurate. He would never lie to his people.


    Lance shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm herself before saying huffily, ¡°Our records portray everything simply as they were, good and bad. There¡¯s good things about elves to read about, as well as atrocious, there is no racial bias in our histories.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it.¡± Hoplite said honestly, ¡°Things could have been warped by accident. Old and damaged histories could have had their blanks filled out by guesswork.¡±


    Lance¡¯s lips pulled tight, ¡°No, we leave even the damaged records intact without alteration, we don¡¯t try to fill in any blanks and we¡¯d never ¡®guess¡¯ as to what happened; not in the official documents of course.¡±


    Should he keep the argument going? His doubts seemed to be well founded, but Lance apparently didn¡¯t want to hear his opinion on the subject. She seemed to be getting more¡­ What was the term? Pickly? No, prickly, she was getting more prickly the more he poked holes at elven history. Best to change the subject and leave this topic for another day. She stared at him, her eyes narrowed as she awaited his reply. He¡¯d like her to return to her normal mood somehow, what could he ask to shift her mental state? Maybe he could have her ask something about him, he had no doubt she¡¯d be interested in that topic. Nothing classified though of course.


    ¡°Did you want to ask me something?¡± He asked.


    She blinked, apparently taken aback for a second before she finally said, ¡°Yes actually.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative,¡± He replied, ¡°I will not provide classified intel.¡±


    ¡°What counts as classified?¡± She asked, leaning forward.


    ¡°Secrets that the Eighth Arm wouldn¡¯t want any personnel to share.¡± He told her, ¡°Just ask a question, and if it isn¡¯t restricted intel then I¡¯ll provide it.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± She started, ¡°What is the Eighth Arm?¡±


    ¡°It is the military branch of the Octopus, Terna¡¯s central government. There are eight arms, each representing a different aspect of my civilization.¡±


    Lance did seem to cool down from her rage a tad as the subject changed, her eyes looked more curious than angry now.


    ¡°So you¡¯re a member of this Eighth Arm¡­ how long have you served?¡± She asked, ¡°I remember you told me that you were two-hundred and thirty-eight back when we were drunk-¡±


    ¡°My intoxication is classified intel.¡± Hoplite whispered quickly, ¡°We won¡¯t bring it up again.¡±


    Instead of becoming irate with him giving her orders, instead she gave him this smug grin, crossing her arms as she stared at his helmet. Why did his face feel warm? Perhaps he was just remembering the feeling from when he had become drunk.


    ¡°...Right, classified.¡± She said after a moment, shrugging as she crossed her arms, ¡°So are you really two-hundred and thirty-eight? Are you actually older than me?¡±


    Hoplite, glad to change the topic, said ¡°Chronologically.¡±


    Her brows knit together, ¡°Well yeah, that¡¯s how time works.¡±


    ¡°Biologically, no.¡±


    Lance¡¯s frown deepened, confusion evident on her sharp features.


    ¡°A Hoplite is always kept in cryogenic storage unless needed for a combat situation,¡± he said.


    ¡°Cryogenic?¡± She asked, looking somehow more confused, ¡°What in Draoi¡¯s name does that even mean?¡±


    ¡°Frozen. I was kept frozen until needed for a fight,¡± he replied. ¡°My biological age is likely far less than that, but that is how many years it has been since I was born.¡±


    ¡°...That sounds awful.¡± She said after a moment, grimacing, ¡°That is no way for a man to live.¡±


    ¡°I am not a man,¡± he told her. ¡°I¡¯m a Hoplite.¡±


    It was the simple truth, he wasn¡¯t a person.


    ¡°You said that you were human before?¡± She said, ¡°Back in the Harkhall.¡±


    ¡°I am a human.¡± He confirmed, ¡°But I¡¯m not a person. I am a tool.¡±


    For some reason, Lance stood, her face looking somewhat¡­ pained?


    ¡°Hoplite¡­ is that what this ¡®Terna¡¯ has deemed you?¡± she asked him in a strangely sad tone.


    It was nothing to feel grief about. He didn¡¯t understand why she would feel that way.


    He then nodded proudly, ¡°It is my role.¡±


    She shook her head, ¡°They kept you frozen until you were needed, that isn¡¯t anything to be proud of.¡±


    With those words, he began to grow uncomfortable. It was dangerously close to what Hoplite twenty-five had told him all those years ago¡­ it had been the start of him breaking away from the Eighth Arm and the place given to him by Lord Jyn. The start of treachery.


    ¡°I am proud to serve Terna and Lord Jyn.¡± He said, straightening his back.


    ¡°Even if they keep you locked away like some kind of tool?¡± She asked, heat entering her voice.


    Hoplite stood suddenly, causing Lance to jump. He loomed over her, breathing heavy as he growled, ¡°I am a tool. Nothing. Else.¡±


    He nearly shook with rage, only barely managing to keep himself still as Lance stared up at him, eyes wide with shock. Those brilliant green eyes seemed to moisten as they stared into his helmet, and his breathing stilled.


    He had frightened her.

 Chapter Seven: Fiendside Chat

    Lance stared up at Hoplite in shock, trying to keep her eyes from moistening. She could not allow herself to cry right now, or he¡¯d think that he had scared her. Yet his insistence that he was little more than an object, a tool for this ¡®Eighth Arm¡¯ strained her nerves. How could his own nation treat him in such a way? According to Michael, Hoplite was considered a hero amongst his people, the Ternans¡­ so why did the man himself think he was a mere object? How could he have been made to think himself no better than a hammer or shovel? He was almost like a Clipped elf-slave from Umant¡­


    ¡°Calm down¡­¡± Lance whispered, ¡°We don¡¯t want to wake the others, why don¡¯t we¡­ why don¡¯t we talk about this?¡± She asked calmly, ¡°I¡¯d like to hear your perspective.¡±


    His fingers, which had furled to nearly resemble claws, slowly but surely relaxed as he eased back into his earlier sitting position. He said nothing, that blank helmet hiding both his eyes and face from her, leaving no way of reading his emotions aside from the tone of his voice. Now that he sat silently, his current feelings were totally obfuscated. Was he still enraged, or did he regret his sudden outburst? She didn¡¯t know, but the only real way to tell would be to ask him a question. If he answered, she¡¯d determine his mood and go from there.


    ¡°Why do you think of yourself that way?¡± Lance asked in a neutral tone. She didn¡¯t want to make her opinion on this show in her voice, else he may be prone to another outburst. ¡°Michael does not, and you¡¯re both of this Eighth Arm, yes?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied in his usual soulless monotone, the former heat having seemingly dissipated, ¡°Michael is a marine, not a Hoplite. Their training and recruitment differs from ours.¡±


    So Michael wasn¡¯t taught to be a tool, as Hoplite was. A marine must have been a standard rank and file soldier, unlike a Hoplite. A Hoplite. There were others like him? Was Hoplite not even his real name? She struggled to remember if he had mentioned this before, her mind was still foggy with emotion and shock¡­ she needed to keep talking.


    ¡°Are there many of your kind?¡± Lance asked, taking another deep breath to steady herself. Curiosity was slowly eroding the sorrow she felt for Hoplite, but it was still there, still threatening to flood her eyes with tears.


    ¡°There were.¡± He replied, ¡°I¡¯m likely the last one in action.¡±


    So his comrades he had trained with were all dead then, likely killed by this Final Kind that Terna warred with. Had they all thought themselves tools, as Hoplite himself did? It was likely, but she asked him anyway.


    ¡°Affirmitive.¡± He replied.


    ¡°And¡­ When did you start this training?¡± She asked, leaning slightly closer to listen.


    He didn¡¯t reply for a long while, perhaps he was considering if this counted as ¡®classified intel¡¯. Or maybe he just didn¡¯t want to tell her. What if he wasn¡¯t considering her question at all and was just ignoring her until she would ask about something less personal? If it wasn¡¯t for that damnable helmet of his, she¡¯d be able to tell! Well, if he was waiting for her to ask something else, then so be it-


    ¡°Since I was a child,¡± he said finally.


    Her heart sank and she had to fight the urge to shake her head in disbelief. Since he was a child? By the Pillars, who could take a child and knowingly twist their minds like this? The tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again, and she had to cover her face with her hands. If Hoplite felt anything at seeing this, he didn¡¯t show it. Knowing him, he would probably just think her baffled¡­ By Draoi don¡¯t let him see the tears¡­


    ¡°My mother volunteered me for the project before I was born, I was projected to have the optimal genetics needed to join the next generation of super-soldier.¡± He said, maintaining his monotone despite the horror of his words.


    Given up¡­ by his own mother? Because he was going to have ¡®optimal genetics¡¯? How horrid could someone be that they¡¯d willingly give away their child? How could any mother allow strangers to turn their child into a nigh-emotionless husk? It was no wonder that Hoplite was always in a rush; always seeking the next fight¡­


    ¡°As soon as we can link back up with command, I¡¯ll be able to continue my duties as my superiors see fit.¡± He said, ¡°It¡¯s my place.¡±


    It was all he knew how to do, and it was all he was made to do. Hoplite could only be comfortable in war, in a command structure. It was no wonder he was so overly-protective of Michael, the young man was more than just a comrade to him, he was a semblance of the chain of command that Hoplite so dearly wished to return to. He has never experienced anything aside from war and all that it encompassed. He had never felt love, not from the Eighth Arm and almost certainly not from his mother. Someone that could do that to their own flesh and blood were likely incapable of emotion.


    ¡°The first few years of my life were spent in my mother¡¯s custody up until I became six years of age.¡± He said, ¡°After that, I was officially conscripted.¡±


    Lance, her voice muffled by her hands asked, ¡°And she still gave you up, even after raising you?¡±


    He didn¡¯t say anything for a long while once more, until finally he broke the silence, ¡°Terna¡¯s needs are greater than its people¡¯s wants.¡±


    Greater than its people¡¯s wants? What did he mean by that? Had his mother changed her mind at the last second and had tried to keep Hoplite in her care? Raising little Hoplite for six years had likely changed her by time the Eighth Arm came to collect on what was offered. Yet, from what she knew of Terna so far, it was unlikely that they¡¯d leave Hoplite be after he was promised to them.


    ¡°What¡­¡± She started, trying to keep her tone neutral, ¡°What was your name before?¡±


    ¡°Irrelevant.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°I am a Hoplite, I don¡¯t have a name.¡±


    By the Pillar¡¯s, what was she supposed to do? Continuing to call him Hoplite after these revelations felt so wrong¡­ almost like she was perpetuating the crime done to him by the Eighth Arm. She almost insisted that he tell her, so she could use the true name given to him rather than the title he¡¯d been branded with. Yet she hesitated. Given his earlier state of mind, she was unsure if he would stay stable if she pressed him. What if he lashed out in a fury once more at her incessant questioning?


    No, she would need to be patient, she¡¯d wait until she was certain that he was completely calm. She¡¯d seen this kind of thing before from the escaped slaves of Umant¡­ They had refused, even after attaining freedom, to go by anything aside from the titles their master¡¯s had given them. She had known people that had been taken by Umant that had returned as shells once their ransoms were paid and their ears clipped¡­ even once they finally tasted freedom, they refused to go by their old names.


    Because slaves were tools.


    The names had been beaten out of them permanently. Hoplite, with all his might and power, was viewed as merely a slave by this Eighth Arm, not as a hero or valiant warrior, but a slave. Michael might not think so, but she had a feeling that he was an outlier amongst his people. The boy was rude, brash, and arrogant beyond belief, with a vulgar sense of humor as the cherry on top. That wasn¡¯t to say that she disliked him, there was something charming about the¡­ ¡®assishness¡¯ of the boy. Certainly he was an exception, there was no way that the other marines behaved as he did.


    ¡°What was it that you wanted?¡± She asked, ¡°I doubt that you as a child wanted to be taken from your mother.¡±


    ¡°My emotions at the time were irrelevant.¡± He replied curtly, ¡°She was just a woman who gave birth to me, nothing more.¡±


    Nothing more? Just the woman that gave birth to him? What kind of twisted warping of the mind had been inflicted upon him? She was gonna feel sick¡­ He needed more help than she had thought. Yet, how was she supposed to do that? She was no thought-bearer, she was a warrior, she wasn¡¯t cut out for reversing indoctrination. Especially when it was this intense. The thought-bearers back in the Faewood had a hard enough time rehabilitating Umanti slave-elves, and none of them had ever been in servitude for nearly as long as Hoplite had.


    What made it even harder though, was that Hoplite seemed to prefer living this way. He wanted someone above him to tell him what needed to be done, that was why he was so insistent on reuniting with his comrades. It wasn¡¯t just so he could save their lives, it was that he merely wanted to return to being a slave. She grit her teeth, still hiding the tears from Hoplite with her face in her hands.


    Lancela was certainly not a thought-bearer, true, but she wasn¡¯t going to be. The best thing to do here was show Hoplite that there was more to life than being a tool. She could subtly guide him to those trains of thought and let him just come to those conclusions on his own. If she tried to force him to think differently, then he¡¯d dig his heels in like the stubborn ass he was. She almost laughed, donkey¡¯s were far less stubborn than this man. This idea might actually prove fruitful, already he seemed more thoughtful and considering than he had been when they first met.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing to cry about.¡± He stated flatly.


    Lance froze for a brief instant before she replied, ¡°I¡¯m not crying.¡± She was proud of how steady her voice was, it lent a lot of power to the lie that it was.


    ¡°Are you tired already?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°I thought you slept back at the celebration.¡±


    ¡°I did, I just¡­ My eyes are dry, I¡¯m keeping them closed for a bit.¡± She said after a brief instant of hesitation.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t leave them open for so long, remember to blink.¡± He told her, ¡°I have the same problem on missions.¡±


    Her brow furrowed at those words, and after a moment, she started laughing. Of course he wouldn¡¯t remember to blink, the man needed to be reminded to sleep!


    ¡°I didn¡¯t make a joke.¡± He said.


    ¡°No of course not.¡± She laughed, ¡°You don¡¯t make jokes, right?¡±


    She lifted her head from her hands finally, wiping away her tears as she continued giggling. She tried to play off the moistness of her eyes as it being from her uncontrollable chuckling, using a single finger to wipe them away as Hoplite watched, unmoving. She didn¡¯t even understand herself why this seemed so funny, perhaps it was just his deadpan delivery that really sold it.


    ¡°Remember to blink.¡± She said in a mocking monotone before she burst out laughing again.


    ¡°Shhhhh!¡± Alistair hissed from his bedroll, violently turning to face away from she and Hoplite.


    She stifled her giggling, clearing her throat as she wiped away the last of her tears. Had she been laughing that loudly? She¡¯d thought she was barely audible, but perhaps this domed chamber carried sound better than she had originally thought.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    What was so funny? Hoplite didn¡¯t understand it. All he had done was remind her to blink every now and again, there was no humor to be found in it. Sure, it went without saying that he wasn¡¯t an expert on comedy, but her reaction seemed completely unfounded. The sentence had been delivered in his normal tone of voice, there was no ¡®funny¡¯ inflection or anything like it. He pondered this as Lance regained control of her faculties, her chest heaving as she tried to repress the laughter that still threatened to spill out. She continued to wipe away tears, new ones forming along with every shake of her shoulders.


    Absolute insanity. It couldn¡¯t just be that he didn¡¯t get the ¡®joke¡¯, this journey had already managed to crack her mental health. They¡¯d only just begun, what if this got worse and she became a liability, or even worse, a danger? He pursed his lips as he considered. Was he just jumping to conclusions? Maybe it would be best to simply ask her what she had found so funny about his words. Once he did, Lance just gently shook her head.


    ¡°When you said that you forget to blink,¡± she said with a smile.


    He stared.


    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± She told him with a shrug, ¡°Its just funny that you forget to blink.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± he said honestly, ¡°What about that is comical?¡±


    Again, she shrugged, ¡°It just is, I can¡¯t give you specifics.¡±


    His brow furrowed, ¡°I just told you that I forget on occasion, that isn¡¯t a joke.¡±


    ¡°Not everything has to be a joke to be funny Hops.¡± She said grinning.


    Hops? What was she doing? It was highly inappropriate to be giving nicknames to people without their consent. Right as he was about to voice this complaint, Elum sat up, glaring at them both beneath a furious brow.


    ¡°Can you both, please, for the love of the Pillars, shut your mouths.¡± He said in a barely polite tone, ¡°We have a horribly long day ahead of us and I¡¯d rather not be exhausted for it.¡±


    Hoplite then stood, Lance copying the motion without thinking, ¡°We¡¯ll move further away.¡± He replied.


    Elum huffed but said nothing, laying back down and turning away from them in his blankets. Lance looked up at him curiously, and he responded by turning, walking off toward one of the far walls. He wouldn¡¯t allow himself to be outside of Twindil¡¯s range, but he¡¯d go to the edge of it so he could continue to speak without disrupting anyone¡¯s rest. It was like Lance had said earlier, the more rested they were, the less they¡¯d complain in the morning once they set out.


    Again, the two of them sat and a long silence passed before Lance asked, ¡°What do you want to speak of now?¡±


    Hoplite considered. What else could he learn from Lance today before everyone awoke? He looked from her, to Twindil, then back again.


    ¡°Twindil¡¯s Pillar-God is a part of the Knowledge Pillar, not Foundation, but she can cast magic?¡± He asked.


    Lance nodded, ¡°It¡¯s a tad bit more complicated in her case. She¡¯s a paladin of Afina, tranquility.¡± She stopped for a moment, thinking, ¡°She doesn¡¯t access Foundation directly, Afina does it for her. It¡¯s sort of like Building a House, but I think since Afina is the one providing the Foundation, Twindil doesn¡¯t have to build anything.¡±


    ¡°She can just cast whenever she want¡¯s with no drawbacks?¡± Hoplite asked.


    If the Pillar-God was handling all the casting, then that could explain why the aura was ongoing while Twindil slept. If it was still going, he reminded himself. It was still unknown to him if it really was still active with her being unconscious. Yet it made a certain amount of sense; she didn¡¯t have to maintain the magic if she wasn¡¯t really the one casting it.


    ¡°Paladins can cast safely without any problems, but there are a couple catches I know about.¡± Lance said, leaning a chin into a palm, ¡°First off, they¡¯re limited to what spells they can use, as their Pillar-God will only allow a certain kind. Afina wouldn¡¯t allow Twindil to throw fireballs or anything of that sort since she is supposed to represent peace and harmony. That aura she¡¯s casting? That¡¯s specific to Afina, no other House could use it¡­ unless someone used raw Foundation to make it so.¡±


    ¡°So Twindil isn¡¯t really a mage at all.¡± He said, ¡°She¡¯s just borrowing Afina¡¯s power?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡± Lance confirmed.


    ¡°You said there was a couple drawbacks to this kind of casting.¡± He continued, ¡°What is the other one?¡±


    ¡°A paladin has a code of conduct, all of them are very strict and vary from god to god, if a paladin follows that code to the letter, they won¡¯t have any problems¡­ but if they break it, they become shunned by their Pillar-God and can no longer rely on them for casting.¡± Lance replied.


    ¡°They could just serve another deity.¡± Hoplite said.


    Lance shook her head, ¡°No other Pillar-God would take them if they did. If a paladin breaks their oaths, no other Pillar would take them in. They¡¯re viewed as unreliable scum from then on by every other god.¡±


    So if a paladin broke one oath, they couldn¡¯t simply jump to the next god with a new set of rules, they¡¯d be cut off for life. That made sense to him, a soldier that didn¡¯t follow orders in one branch was unlikely to do so in others.


    ¡°So is Kid¡¯ka a paladin of Zodd?¡± He asked, gesturing towards the snoring warrior.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She said with a shrug, ¡°Maybe he is? I can¡¯t really say.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka hadn¡¯t really shown off any magical abilities since Hoplite had met him, but perhaps his nigh-superhuman speed was an effect of serving Zodd? Was every single Tongue a paladin of the Might Pillar? It was doubtful, he¡¯d seen other Tongues fight before at the broken Fiendwall. They were talented fighters to be sure, but nothing they had done spoke of supernatural aid. They had all fought at standard human-level speeds, so it was more likely that paladins of Zodd were more rare amongst them, or perhaps they were completely separate organizations?


    ¡°I¡¯ve been curious about Kid¡¯ka myself actually, but for different reasons.¡± She said, drawing him from his thoughts.


    ¡°He moves and fights like a Watcher,¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Is that right?¡±


    She nodded, her eyes shifting to the sleeping Kid¡¯ka for an instant, ¡°Yes exactly.¡± She confirmed, looking back to him, ¡°But he¡¯s a human.¡± She said with emphasis, ¡°Watcher secrets are never given to outsiders, no exceptions.¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°Even with torture?¡± He asked.


    Again, she nodded, ¡°Even with torture. If outsiders knew anything about how we operated, it would reduce our capabilities.¡± She continued, ¡°If one of our own gets captured by the enemy, they bite off their tongues.¡± She then put a hand to her mouth with a grimace, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed in our time together that some of the other Watcher¡¯s never spoke?¡±


    Hoplite nodded, but he hadn¡¯t thought about why they weren¡¯t speaking before. So they had been captured and had opted to remove their ability to speak? He seriously doubted that every single Watcher who¡¯d ever been captured bit their own tongues off, it took serious mental fortitude to willingly sever a body part. He voiced his doubts, and she nodded.


    ¡°It''s true that not every Watcher will bite their own tongue upon capture. Usually they only do so if they believe that escape or rescue is impossible. And before you say ¡®Negative, its unlikely anyone would ever bite their tongues off,¡¯¡± she mimicked his monotone, ¡°A Watcher would always prefer self-mutilation over the shame of being the first one to spill Watcher secrets, in fact, death would be preferable.¡±


    He then gestured to Kid¡¯ka, ¡°Then why does he know how to fight like one?¡±


    Hoplite had spent plenty of time fighting with Watchers during his short campaign in the Faewood, when the wood was flooded with a legion of Fiends. As such, he¡¯d become familiar with the way they fought. Kid¡¯ka matched every single detail Hoplite had observed down to the way he gripped his sword, there was no way that he didn¡¯t learn it from someone among their number.


    Lance fell silent, her lips pulling tight as she glared up at him, ¡°That¡¯s what I want to figure out.¡± She said after a moment, her brow creasing, ¡°Yet every attempt I¡¯ve made to pry the truth from him has been fruitless. I do not want to torture him mind you, but this isn¡¯t something I can allow to go unsolved. What if this rogue Watcher is going about teaching other humans about our ways? I need their name so justice can be delivered.¡±


    Justice can be delivered? Would the Watchers execute this AWOL soldier or merely imprison them? If they handled their courts as the Eighth Arm did, then he¡¯d be executed¡­ Publicly of course, as Lord Jyn commanded be done to traitors. Yet, the elves were not subject to Ternan laws, perhaps they would simply imprison him for life. As for Kid¡¯ka¡­ what would be intended for him? He seriously doubted that the Harkhall would suffer him to live after he¡¯d learned those secrets. Why hadn¡¯t Lance mentioned this to the Harkhall before? She had the opportunity to before they¡¯d left the Faewood¡­ could it be that she didn¡¯t want to indirectly kill him?


    He asked this very question, and she frowned, falling silent for a long moment before finally she said, ¡°I¡¯m only pretty sure that he was taught by one of us.¡± She sighed, ¡°But ¡®pretty sure¡¯ isn¡¯t good enough for me to tell the Harkhall about him. He¡¯d be hunted down until the day he died... I have to know for certain, else the guilt will eat at me for the rest of time. It still might after the fact, but this isn¡¯t something I can let go.¡±


    This was surprising coming from Lance, she was usually more altruistic than this¡­ or so it had seemed. Yet he respected her for it, this was her duty and letting secrets fall into enemy hands was intolerable. He did not think that Kid¡¯ka deserved to die of course, he had done nothing wrong thus far and, surprisingly, Hoplite wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d allow the young man to be killed. Why was that? He struggled to come up with a logical answer, but found nothing justifiable as he racked his brain.


    A strange desire then filled him as he continued to stare at Lance, something that made him horribly uncomfortable. He desired¡­ to assist her in this objective. He wasn¡¯t quite sure as to why he wanted this, maybe it was because she was helping him with his own goals? She was putting her life on the line to come into the Fiendwood with him after all. This concerned him though, for desiring to help someone else with a task was another dire sign of him ¡®thawing¡¯.


    Still, if it would help keep Lance¡¯s mind off the dangers of their surroundings, then it might be worth the effort. Also¡­ what if Kid¡¯ka was innocent? What if his fighting style was just incredibly similar to that of a Watcher? Once more, he compared Lance¡¯s form to Kid¡¯ka¡¯s, brow furrowing as he thought. It wasn¡¯t an exact copy at all¡­ there were slight differences here and there, the way his feet had moved, the way he ducked his head, the way he parried¡­ There was a real chance that Kid¡¯ka hadn¡¯t learned Watcher secrets.


    ¡°...Can I help somehow?¡± He asked her after a long pause.


    Lance blinked, her mouth hanging open slightly in apparent shock, ¡°You¡­¡± She started slowly, blinking again, ¡°You actually would want to help me with this? I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d want to take any interest in Watcher affairs.¡±


    He shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t. I just want to help you.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± She gasped, putting a hand over her mouth, ¡°Well I- I think that¡¯s very-¡± She stammered, her face reddening as she struggled to find the words, ¡°That¡¯s very sweet of you.¡±


    Sweet of him? He was not sweet, his skin only tasted like skin, it wasn¡¯t sugary-


    He stopped that train of thought before he could continue making a fool out of himself. It was clearly just a figure of speech, there was no need to overthink it like that. What then, did it mean to be ¡®sweet¡¯? Sweetness implied a good taste, like something sugary¡­ Yet, how would a good taste apply to this conversation? After a few more brief milliseconds of thought, he was pretty sure he got it figured out. Him showing kindness meant that he would taste good.


    He frowned. That didn¡¯t seem right either but he¡¯d put more thought into it another time.


    ¡°I will just ask him who trained him,¡± Hoplite said, ¡°He shouldn¡¯t have any problem discussing that with someone who isn¡¯t a Watcher.¡±


    Lance stared for a long time before she said, ¡°No, that¡¯s not going to work. We have to be more subtle than that. He knows we¡¯re companions, Kid¡¯ka isn¡¯t going to open up on that subject with you.¡±


    She was right, if he approached Kid¡¯ka and directly asked that question then he¡¯d likely assume that Hoplite was spying for Lance.


    Yet being indirect was hardly his strong suit, Lance seemed to realize this as well, for she said, ¡°Just let me handle that part¡­ but if you could get some hints out of him during conversation, be sure to share them with me, okay?¡±


    Hints in conversation¡­ again, this wasn¡¯t exactly his area of expertise, but he¡¯d try his best regardless. It shouldn¡¯t be absolutely impossible, after all, Kid¡¯ka was just as much of a conversationalist as Hoplite himself was. He then blinked as he considered the man¡­ No, Kid¡¯ka was somehow worse than Hoplite at talking. Hoplite never stuttered or tried to save sentences as Kid¡¯ka did. Perhaps it was a mere difference in confidence? No matter.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He replied.


    ¡°I appreciate it,¡± She smiled, ¡°So I had another question for you¡­ about that armor of yours.¡±


    The sudden shift of topic almost caught him off guard, but they had been switching topics quite rapidly since this conversation began, so he adapted quickly, ¡°What did you want to know?¡±


    ¡°How can you move in that thing?¡± She asked him, ¡°It looks and sounds so cumbersome, but you run faster than any man or elf I¡¯ve seen, are you just that strong?¡±


    Would discussing the Phalanx suit be considered a breach of protocol? There were still some things about its construction that even he is uncertain about¡­ yet he had been given no strict orders to keep that intel classified. To be safe, he¡¯d only tell her things that any citizen would understand about power armor.


    ¡°It carries itself.¡± He said, ¡°I don¡¯t have to exert myself to stay mobile.¡±


    ¡°It.¡± She started slowly, ¡°It carries itself? How?¡±


    ¡°It is powered.¡± He replied, ¡°This armor has an intricate network of microhydraulic systems that stretch throughout the armor. Highly pressurized fluids are used by these hydraulics to move the suit.¡±


    She blinked, her face scrunching up as she considered his words. He thought he had explained it quite well, but if she was reacting like this then perhaps he would need to dumb things down a bit. Power armor was an alien concept to Ahkoolis, there wasn¡¯t anything like it, at least as far as he knew. This would all be new to her, as it would be to anyone else, he could not hold her confusion against her.


    ¡°These fluids,¡± She began slowly, ¡°I doubt its something as simple as water, yes?¡±


    He nodded, ¡°It is an oil-like substance that was discovered around the time more advanced power armors were being developed,¡± He paused, patting a hand on his breastplate, ¡°This liquid flows through the entire suit.¡±


    ¡°So its like blood then?¡± She asked, gently clapping her hands together.


    He supposed it was in a way, so he nodded in affirmation.


    ¡°I doubt that this fluid can move on its own, you mentioned that it was ¡®power armor¡¯ right?¡± She asked, tilting her head slightly, ¡°So what powers it, and what is this liquid called?¡±


    ¡°Its officially called Sanguis Pulpi, but it is more commonly called ¡®Pulp¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Pulp?¡± She asked, a smile playing at her lips, ¡°That¡¯s a silly name.¡±


    Hoplite did not refute this claim, ¡°As for what powers the armor and moves the Pulp, there is a miniature cold-fusion reactor embedded within the suit, I will not disclose it¡¯s location so do not ask.¡± He continued sternly as she opened her mouth.


    She paused again, seeming to rack her brain before she asked,¡°What is a reactor, and what on Ahkoolis does cold-fusion mean?¡±


    ¡°Cold-fusion is a nuclear reaction at or below room temprature, as for a reactor-¡±


    And so they went on like that, talking back and forth, asking questions and changing subjects when a new topic of interest popped up. She asked things of him, as he did her, and he found the time spent to be¡­ satisfying. He enjoyed both learning from Lance, as well as informing her. Time seemed to fly by, and before long, sunlight could be seen coming from the tunnel, just barely creeping in as Lance began explaining the Akan-Dari Expansion War to him.


    ¡°The humans of Akan-Dar were constantly needing to grow their domain,¡± She said with a frown, ¡°Too many people were bunched up inside its walls, so their Lord Ruler at the time had decided to expand¡­ aggressively.¡± She leaned back on her palms with a sigh, ¡°There was once a time where this land was occupied by more than just four nations, but the Akan-Dari destroyed or absorbed them, only leaving the Faewood and¡­ Umant.¡± She said with a low growl. ¡°The Expansion-War ended properly once Muro humiliated their Lord-Ruler in a duel.


    Hoplite shook his head, ¡°I doubt that was the only reason they decided to stop the fighting.¡±


    A mere duel would not have stopped a military campaign of conquest, especially considering the fact that the Akan-Dari had superior numbers against the Watchers. There had to be more to it than just that.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Lance nodded, ¡°It wasn¡¯t the duel itself, it was the politicking between the Block-Lords after that. See, the Akan-Dari nobility are known for holding martial ability in the highest regard, its so important to them that it resides even in their courts. Disagreements are resolved through contests of arms far more often than diplomacy. When their Lord-Ruler was thoroughly walloped by Muro, the Block-Lords believed him unfit to rule.¡±


    ¡°So they all plotted to take power.¡± Hoplite said with a nod, ¡°Correct?¡±


    Lance nodded back with a grin, ¡°Exactly. Each Block-Lord saw this as an opportunity to rise to the place of Lord-Ruler.¡± She then leaned forward, ¡°We didn¡¯t beat back their armies, they did it to themselves.¡±


    ¡°Civil war.¡± He stated confidently.


    Again, she nodded, ¡°That¡¯s right, the Akan-Dari fell into a power-struggle that lasted for nearly twenty years; their population of fighting-aged men had decimated itself so severely that only in the current day have they fully recovered. Even after hundreds of years, there are still countless bodies being found from that war littering the plains between the Faewood and the city of Akan-Dar.¡±


    The death-toll must have been something comparable to one of the three World Wars back in Earth¡¯s early history. No, it must have been worse, Akan-Dar¡¯s population was only now back to what it used to be, and this war had taken place over two-hundred years ago. The remains must have been boundless, an ocean of skeletons and rusted arms threatening to drown the land beneath it. For Ahkoolis, it may be one of the worst wars in its history, at least during the span of Decuma¡­


    For Terna however, such casualties were almost standard¡­ at least it became so after Lord Jyn disappeared. He turned his thoughts from that subject, not wanting his mood to become grim as he thought of another question.


    ¡°I have heard Umant mentioned a number of times now. You said it was a nation, where is it and why do you dislike it?¡± He asked her.


    There was no doubt in his mind that Lance despised Umant, every time it had been brought up in conversation, she had seemed borderline furious. Had the Faewood went to war with them before? Had they committed atrocities against the trees? Maybe they had been logging them for their own purposes, drawing the ire of the Harkhall?


    She frowned at the mention of Umant, and she spoke, ¡°Its less a nation and more of a city-state really. You never got to see its walls when we were fighting the Fiends, but it resides within the Faewood¡­ its the greatest shame we have ever suffered.¡±


    In the Faewood?¡± Hoplite asked, leaning forward, ¡°How is that possible?¡±


    The Watchers and the Harkhall would never let anyone build a city within the forest, so how was it that Umant had come to be? It¡¯s founders must have been overwhelmingly powerful to be able to do such a thing, especially right in the middle of Watcher territory. He could barely imagine what it must have been like to try and raise civilization with the Watchers constantly harrying laborers. Was it magic? A sufficiently powerful caster might have been able to shoo away any elves, but the Harkhall itself was comprised of significantly gifted mages.


    ¡°Their leader, Creetan, is a magician without equal in Decuma. He has lived since the beginning of the age, and has mastered the building of the Three Houses. Few alive today have ever witnessed him outside Umant, he is content to simply stay there, ruling from within the Rose Walls. In a way, its a good thing that Creetan doesn¡¯t wish to expand, for if he did I¡¯m not sure anyone could stop him.¡± She finished with a sigh.


    ¡°How long has Umant been there, and why do you dislike it aside from their being in the Faewood?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Creetan and his humans despise elves with a fervor.¡± She said bitterly, ¡°They look down upon outsiders and those who are not human, but it is we that are their most hated foe. They¡­¡± She hesitated, biting her lip, ¡°They take us as slaves when they can, clipping our ears and breaking our wills to the point that they embrace servitute.¡±


    ¡°That sounds excessive.¡± He pointed out.


    Keeping enemies as slaves was nothing foreign to him. Terna¡¯s factories were filled with captured aliens and rebels, but they didn¡¯t clip their ears, that was unnecessary. Slaves needed to be kept healthy in order to work, severing body-parts served no purpose. He knew that gibs, the common term for slave in Terna, also didn¡¯t have their ¡®wills broken¡¯. There were countless addictive drugs that could be provided that made gibs both dependant, and euphoric. Of course, addiction couldn¡¯t nullify aggression, so other measure¡¯s had to be taken to ensure that gib-rebellions didn¡¯t happen.


    Even still, he did not support the idea of letting Terna¡¯s enemies work in such critical environments, but it wasn¡¯t his place to question the First Arm¡¯s methods. It would likely be best to not bring this up to Lance, he had a feeling that this intel might upset her. Even if he told her that the Final Kind did the same thing to their own populace.


    ¡°Um¡­ Yeah, I suppose you could say that.¡± She replied after a moment, ¡°But it is the victims I¡¯ve seen that have been subjected to Clipping that drove me to truly hate Creetan and his invader-city.¡± Her lips drew into a tight line before she continued, glaring at the floor, ¡°The Harkmother never mentioned Umant to you, isn¡¯t that right?¡±


    He nodded. He remembered distinctly that the elven matriarch had only told him about Grayshane and Akan-Dar. Had he known at the time that another human settlement had been so close by, he¡¯d have immediately sought contact with them. It would have been a comfort to see others of his race, primitive as they would have been¡­ wait a moment¡­


    ¡°Creetan has been alive since the beginning of Decuma?¡± He asked, ¡°Is he an elf?¡±


    She had mentioned that it was a city-state comprised of humans, but their leader had been alive for millenia. It shouldn¡¯t have been possible for a man to live for so long, but perhaps with his proficiency in magic, he found a way to extend his life? It was a possibility to be sure, but the humans he encountered here on Ahkoolis weren¡¯t the humans he knew. In a way, they were as alien as the elves were, or the orcs. In fact, the more he thought of it, the more he came to realize that they weren¡¯t human at all. They certainly followed the same path of evolution to a point, but they were made of the Blood of Zodd, they were completely seperate from Ternan humanity.


    They were another species entirely. Michael had even mentioned during the trip that humans here have three sets of teeth throughout their lives, rather than just two, as was standard. He¡¯d need to treat them as alien from here on out as he did for the elves. Yet¡­ did he really treat them like extraterrestrials? He had not treated Lance all that differently from how he treated marines¡­ why? She was an alien in every sense of the word, perhaps even more so, considering that this was an alternate dimension. Life did not start here as it did in his realm, but when he looked at Lance, he thought of her as a person, not an alien.


    This troubled him, the other Hoplites, if they were still alive, would not have even tolerated her presence. Why was he acting differently from them? What if this was a result of twenty-five¡¯s meddling? What if a vestige of what he had said all those years ago still lived on in the recesses of Hoplite¡¯s mind? The itch of the rogue Hoplite¡¯s words almost replayed themselves in his mind, but with great effort, he stuffed them back to the decrepit pit from which they came. Instead, his eyes found Lance again, and he examined her face, her sharp features, those brilliant green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the chamber. He looked to her long black hair, flowing down her back like silken drapery and sharply contrasting her pale skin.


    She looked exactly like a person.


    The elves looked human, spoke like humans, acted like humans, even if they seemed like they¡¯d prefer to deny it. The humans here were the same exact way, he hadn¡¯t put thought into it before now of course, but even now after these revelations he struggled to classify them as less than what they were¡­ which was undeniably human.


    ¡°Hoplite?¡± Lance asked, her tone concerned, ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Affirmitive.¡± He replied, ¡°Did you hear my question?¡±


    Her eyes widened, and she stood, slowly approaching him, ¡°Are you feeling well?¡± She asked him, ¡°I did answer, but you didn¡¯t say anything.¡±


    He blinked in surprise. He hadn¡¯t heard her? How was that possible? He shook his head, bumping his chin to check his vitals. A couple holographic screens popped into his vision, and he took in all the information given in only a second. Everything about him was fine, so why had he not heard Lance? She must have only thought that she replied, he would not have missed her speaking to him.


    It was impossible. Yet, would she herself had made such a strange mistake? Was that really more likely than¡­ He grimaced, thankful that his helmet his his expression. Had he been lost in thought? Had he been so engrossed in his own mind that he hadn¡¯t heard her over his musings? This was bad, things were getting progressively worse every day it seemed. It just wasn¡¯t fair, why was he turning back into-


    He grit his teeth and ignored the useless thoughts, replying to Lance with ¡°Affirmative.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ if you insist.¡± She replied, ¡°What I said was that nobody really knows, but no one from the Faewood would want to think that someone could enslave their own people to serve humans.¡±


    What had they been speaking of? Ah, Umant and their leader, Creetan. ¡°What about Terlin? He¡¯s been alive for about that long as well.¡±


    ¡°Not that long.¡± She replied, ¡°Theres about a hundred year difference between Creetan and Fire-Eyes.¡± Again she sat, but instead of resuming her place a few paces away, she sat only a few inches from him.


    Their knees were almost touching¡­ why this sudden proximity? The way she was poised it looked like she was ready to try and catch him. That would not be a wise plan, if Hoplite fell, there would be no one to stop him from hitting the ground. The Phalanx armor was just too heavy. She must have thought that he had come down with an illness or some such, if she understood more about his biology she¡¯d understand that it was almost impossible for him to become sick.


    ¡°Terlin was still learning the Houses by the time Creetan had founded Umant with his gang of humans. I¡¯m sure Fire-Eyes has considered challenging him, but it would be a big risk,¡± she said.


    ¡°Why not assassinate him?¡±


    The Watcher¡¯s were considerably competent when it came to stealth, sneaking into a city should have been no issue considering their skill. Yet he doubted that this hadn¡¯t been tried before, and considering the fact that Creetan was still living¡­ well-


    ¡°Oh believe me,¡± she answered with a sigh, ¡°We¡¯ve tried. Every single Watcher that has gone into the rose walls never returned. At least¡­ not in one piece.¡± She said meaningfully, a hand reaching up to one of her pointed ears.


    So Watcher¡¯s had been returned, but they had been made into slaves. ¡®Clipped¡¯ as Lance had called it.


    ¡°Have any returned to active duty?¡± He asked.


    Her eyes darkened, head drooping slightly before she gently shook her head, ¡°None ever do,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡±


    She said nothing for a long while after that, her eyes looking pained. Was she remembering former comrades that had gone into Umant? It was hard to say¡­


    Again, a long silence passed between them, Lance seeming lost in her own thoughts. Finally, the silence was ended, but not by either of them. Twindil sat up slowly in her bedroll, letting out a yawn before her tired eyes found him.


    ¡°Morning¡­¡± She half-mumbled, ¡°Is it daylight?¡± Her long blonde hair, now worn loosely, flipped in the air as her head snapped toward the exit. Once she saw the light of day peeking out from behind the wagon, she breathed a sigh of relief, ¡°I finally slept¡­ praise be to Afina for that.¡±


    ¡°Good morning Twindil,¡± Lance said, coming back to reality, ¡°You¡¯ve been having trouble resting?¡±


    ¡°Before this journey started, yes.¡± Twindil confirmed with a nod, ¡°Much weighs on my mind and rest has been escaping me for a long while.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it,¡± Lance replied, standing from the ground to move over to the paladin, ¡°I¡¯m amazed you could sleep at all, considering where we are.¡±


    Hoplite stood as well, sparing a glance for Michael before he too moved over to the chatting women. Now that she was awake he¡¯d be able to confirm how it was her tranquil aura worked.


    And yet again¡­ he failed to notice the golden eyes, staring at him intently from beside the snoring Theopalu.

 Chapter Eight: Scarless

    Four days of travel was starting to wear Hoplite¡¯s patience thin. The days were gruesomely slow; his objectives seemed to never come closer to completion, despite their rapid pace. Already they had covered over half the span of the Fiendbridge, yet he still hadn¡¯t picked up on a single radio signal. Perhaps his comrades had landed further inland? Yes that had to be it-


    ¡°So then I said to him,¡± Michael guffawed, ¡°I said you can¡¯t make a sandwich with only meat! Ya gotta have two nice squishy buns in yer hands, ya get me?¡± He asked a groaning Alistair.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Alistair replied.


    ¡°This guy,¡± Michael laughed and jerked a thumb at him while glancing at the other companions, ¡°He only likes meat cause that¡¯s all he¡¯s got.¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s brow furrowed. Why did Alistair only have meat? They had packed plenty of dried food for the journey, but there wasn¡¯t much of it on his person. Most of the rations were stashed safely within their packs to protect from the elements.


    ¡°Proper nutrition should not be ignored, Alistair,¡± Hoplite noted, ¡°you must eat more than meat.¡±


    For some reason, Michael suddenly burst into laughter and the golden-haired Alistair rubbed his face with both hands.


    ¡°Meat is all he knows,¡± Michael chuckled louder. ¡°He loves gobbling it down.¡±


    ¡°Takes one to know one.¡± Alistair rolled his eyes.


    ¡°Says the one with the princess-grip hair.¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s brow furrowed at the exchange. Princess-grip hair? Wasn¡¯t this supposed to be a conversation about food? Was there some sort of innuendo there he didn¡¯t understand? He almost sighed aloud. Did it matter? No, of course it didn¡¯t, but he had to admit to himself that he needed something to keep his mind busy. His thoughts kept seeming to wander back to that day Hoplite twenty-five had shattered his worldview. If only something else could occupy his time other than this useless banter. After a few more agonizing minutes of listening to their inane chatter, something else appeared that could occupy his attention.


    ¡°Hey, um,¡± Kid¡¯ka stuttered, ¡°not to sound rude or anything. I like a good joke and all but um, do those Fiends seem a little bit horde-y over there?¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s eyes narrowed as he noted that, yes, the scattered crowds of Fiends seemed to have banded together. They were shoulder to shoulder and spanned the whole width of the bridge it seemed, forming a barrier of cursed flesh. There was no way he could plow the wagon through all of these mutants, it would be upturned after a dozen feet. That left only one option.


    His pace slowed, eventually coming to a complete stop as the horde loomed ahead of them, ¡°Affirmative.¡± He replied to Kid¡¯ka, head nodding toward the nearest rest-stop, ¡°The squad will retreat there and I will engage the hostiles.¡±


    ¡°W-with all due respect, I can handle myself.¡± The pale young man pounded his fists together. ¡°No self-respecting Tongue would back down from a fight like this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re staying curse-free, Kid¡¯ka,¡± Twindil stated. ¡°Hoplite¡¯s been able to handle everything so far, no need for unnecessary risks.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Elum piped up from near the back, ¡°Metal-man will squish them like he has countless times before.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka frowned. ¡°But doesn¡¯t that grouping seem a little too planned? It gi-gives me something like a creepy-crawly across the skin.¡± He winced for some reason and slapped his own forehead.


    Arrangement or not, talking about it wasn¡¯t going to rid the barrier of purple, spiraled bodies. Hoplite backed the cart into the alcove, its looming dark maw swallowing up the wagon entirely. He ducked under the pull-bar, hardening his features as he drew the Sectis from its sheath. There wouldn¡¯t be any need for him to use his guns most likely, unless the horde proved to be overwhelmingly massive. He did not wish to spend all day hacking apart Fiends one at a time, if the mass of mutants numbered over a thousand then he would employ ballistics to save time. He still may need to, depending on outside factors.


    The outside factor being whatever managed to organize the Fiends in such a way. Kid¡¯ka was right, it looked as if it had been planned out. It was abnormal for Fiends to behave in such a way, they were constantly moving, aggressive, almost fidgety from the pains they felt. For them to stand so still was unnatural for them. Had Kazon himself orchestrated this as an ambush? Would he be there to fight alongside the mutants?


    ¡°Look, let¡¯s be re-realistic here,¡± Kid¡¯ka said, hopping down onto the cool stone, ¡°You can¡¯t handle a host of enemies like this by yourself with just a knife, no matter how sharp it is. Some enemies are going to slip past and the rest of us need to be prepared,¡± he finished, his tone steadying, ¡°And this is not a fight I will sit out on.¡±


    If that''s what Kid¡¯ka truly wanted to do, that was on him. Hoplite was not his commanding officer, he¡¯d not tell him to stand down if he wished to fight alongside him. He thought it was unwise, but Kid¡¯ka¡¯s devotion to Zodd seemed to overwhelm his common sense.


    ¡°I won¡¯t stop you,¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°But I advise against it.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Kid¡¯ka shot back, ¡°There might be hundreds over there. We¡¯ll have to fight no matter what!¡±


    He was strangely confident when it came to conflict, there was no quaver or awkward phrasings to his words. Hoplite said nothing in reply as he walked back out into the light, Kid¡¯ka trailing after him as Twindil cried out various objections. She too stepped free of the wagon, along with Michael, who glanced nervously back at the darkness as he hurried toward the entrance.


    ¡°Private, you can remain where the light is, but you aren¡¯t to engage in combat unless the Fiends close on your position.¡± Hoplite ordered.


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    ¡°Copy.¡± Michael replied, a slight shake in his tone.


    Hoplite suspected that, if given the option, Michael might have preferred to fight the Fiends over spending any length of time in the dark. He wouldn¡¯t have to do either, hopefully, since the mutants would beeline for the closest uninfected creature, which would be Hoplite. He didn¡¯t think the Fiends had the presence of mind to go and attack easier targets over closer ones.


    ¡°If you aren¡¯t going to stay safe,¡± Twindil called after Kid¡¯ka, quickly trailing after him, ¡°Then I¡¯ll have to go with you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called being ready for the worst, Twindil,¡± Kid¡¯ka replied curtly, gaze fixed firmly ahead.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Alistair shouted, ¡°Don¡¯t you have faith that Hoplite can handle this solo?¡±


    When Kid¡¯ka gave no reply, Alistair cursed. Hopping down from the wagon and hurrying after them, he quickly chanted in an alien tongue. Hoplite rounded the corner by time he saw Baomiel appear, emerging from a torrent of Golden Flame and speeding after his summoner. He wasn¡¯t going to stop anyone but Michael from participating in the fight if they pursued, and perhaps maybe Lance. She was a talented fighter but technically, she was under his direct command now, and he¡¯d rather not risk her contracting the curse.


    She may object, but Lance had chosen to follow Hoplite on his mission, not Twindil and her friends. Still though, he saw that familiar black hair rounding the corner behind Alistair, and he immediately turned, pointing a finger back to the rest-stop.


    ¡°Negative. Remain with Michael until the threat is neutralized.¡± He ordered, causing the entire squad to freeze behind him.


    Ah, that¡¯s right. They couldn¡¯t exactly tell that he was looking at Lance when he said that.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what you told me!¡± Kid¡¯ka said, looking outright appalled. ¡°As a fellow adventurer, you can¡¯t order me around on our shared quest!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an adventurer.¡± Hoplite stated, ¡°I¡¯m a soldier, and I wasn¡¯t talking to you.¡±


    Lance stiffened at his words, fists clenching as Elum rushed past, looking irritated as he caught up to Alistair.


    ¡°Why is that?¡± she asked with a glare, raising her chin in challenge.


    ¡°Your participation is an unnecessary risk,¡± he told her. ¡°Stay with Michael and retreat if the Fiends make it past us.¡±


    ¡°What, are you saying you¡¯re worried about me?¡± she asked with a shake of her head, ¡°I¡¯ll just stick behind you and wait for anything that might try and move past. I won¡¯t get hurt.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to change anything.¡± Hoplite said flatly, ¡°This fight does not require you, or anyone else for that matter.¡±


    For some reason, her face looked¡­ pained. Her lips tightened, almost to the brink of quivering before she hardened her features, brows knitting together before she spat on the stone.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever I please, you¡¯ll have to force me back in that wagon to keep me away.¡± She said, those green eyes narrowing.


    If he had to manhandle her, he would. What was with Ahkoolians and suicidal bravado? Just as he was about to apprehend her however, a loud roar could be heard, booming out from the mass of Fiends behind him. It drowned out all other noise, causing everyone, save for Hoplite, to jump. His attention turned back to the monstrous crowd, where he saw a being that loomed above even the tallest Fiend in the horde. It even towered over Hoplite himself, a mass of spiraling muscled flesh. A broad jaw with two jutting tusks lay agape on the thing''s monstrous head, staring ahead with hunger in its yellow, glowing eyes.


    A man stood atop the beast¡¯s right shoulder, shirtless to reveal the purple flesh and spiraling etchings that showed he was a Fiend as well. Yet, something was different about this one. His eyes were too lucid, he held himself too straight, too confidently to be merely another mad Fiend. In a smooth motion, the mutant leapt from the hulk¡¯s shoulder, landing cleanly a few paces in front of the horde before crossing its lean arms. It was short, with long chains seemingly grafted to each of its forearms. The long links scraped the stones at its feet as it shifted its stance, stretching its arms out wide.


    ¡°I am Tolak, scourge of the Akan-Dark, and the end of your journey!¡± It shouted, the guttural voice echoing across the emptiness between them.


    Hoplite was on the border of surprise at hearing the thing''s voice. Some Fiends really could talk, and more importantly, could seemingly command the standard ones. The horde still hadn¡¯t charged from behind their sapient commander. He had no doubt that, if Tolak gave the order, the mass of mutants would charge and try to overrun their position. The current priority objective was clear, neutralize Tolak.


    That would not end the horde, but it would be better for the squad to face an enemy without a commander. He wasn¡¯t sure as to what sorts of orders the Fiends could be given, but if they were suitably complex, then eliminating them without casualties would be difficult. He swiftly turned around, pointing sharply toward the entrance of the rest stop.


    ¡°Retreat to that position and hold, we can¡¯t be surrounded.¡± Hoplite shouted, sheathing the Sectis before pulling the Visus rifle from his back-plate.


    Tolak needed to be taken out ASAP, who knew just what the mutant was capable of? Aside from his apparent leadership amongst Fiends, he could be a Foundation user. He took aim with the Visus as he heard the party¡¯s footsteps retreating behind him, thankfully they hadn¡¯t decided to be insubordinate. It was far more strategically advantageous to have the horde funnel into that entrance, it would both limit the number of foes that needed to be faced and prevent them from being flanked.


    As soon as Tolak¡¯s wrinkled head was in his sights, he pulled the trigger, the sound echoing across the bridge. Time seemed to slow from Hoplite¡¯s perspective as the round sped towards the creature''s head, allowing him to see as one of the chains, completely on its own, snaked upwards, completely autonomous of Tolak¡¯s control, knocking the bullet away as if it were nothing more than a fly.


    Hoplite¡¯s eyes widened in shock at this development. Tolak hadn¡¯t moved an inch, yet the chains had whipped up to protect him, seemingly of their own will. Were they somehow living things? Maybe they were enchanted with Foundation to protect whoever wielded them? He quickly switched the Visus over to full-auto, taking aim again before unloading a full magazine at Tolak.


    Both chains whipped upward, slapping the bullets away with cacophonous plinks. Several of these deflected rounds found a home within the horde¡¯s innumerable bodies, dozens dropping with pained howls of agony as Tolak crossed his arms, smirking in a way that caused Hoplite¡¯s blood to boil.


    ¡°There is no attack that can make it past my chains,¡± Tolak explained in a smug tone, ¡°Before my blessing from Lord Kazon, I was also known as ¡®The Scarless¡¯. I have never been touched by blade nor bolt, no matter how fast they might be. Your thunderstaves are useless.¡± He finished, pointing directly to Hoplite.


    If that were the case¡­ Then trying to take him out from range would be difficult. An entire magazine couldn¡¯t even make it past that dervish of metal. The chains didn¡¯t even look a single bit worse for wear, an effect of their magic perhaps? Perhaps one of the squad''s casters could find a way to make it through, or maybe CQB would fare better in this battle?


    Tolak pointed again, giving a wide toothy grin as he shouted, ¡°Smother!¡±


    With that, the gargantuan Fiend took a lumbering step forward, its smaller kin pooling out toward Hoplite like a tainted river, trampling one another in their eagerness to rip into his flesh. He magnetized the Visus to his back, instead gripping the Magnus before bringing it to bear, backing away as he took aim.


    He hoped dearly that he wouldn¡¯t have to use every single shell, but the horde seemed to stretch back farther than he could see. This was going to be a long day.

 Chapter Nine: Dragons Curiosity

    The Dragon of The East stared down at the looming horde of Fiends, a sneer forming on his face as his slitted golden eyes glared down upon the mass of putrid purple flesh. Invisible to all forms of detection, Legolanthas floated downward, closer to this ¡®Scarless¡¯ creature. Aside from the curse, the man didn¡¯t look extraordinary. A lean warrior''s build and a plain face, nothing of note aside from the chains bound to his forearms. Tolak was certainly not the same ¡®Scarless¡¯ Legolanthas had met in his youth, that was for sure.


    Time had slowed for him, as it always had once he focused in on something, making the charging Fiends seem to be moving at a leisurely pace. If he wanted to, he could exterminate these vermin from the face of Ahkoolis with but a wave of his hand, and the urge to do so was nearly overwhelming¡­ but he needed to stay his hand for now. Hoplite still hadn¡¯t expressed any Draconic powers from what he had observed. The Dragon respected the man¡¯s discipline, but other than that there was nothing that spoke of Hoplite possessing Dragon Blood.


    Likely another one of the Trickster God¡¯s deceptions, designed to fill Legolanthas¡¯ mind with paranoia and fear. There was no other Dragon of Decuma besides himself, and the Banished Child could not have returned. If that creature had¡­ Well, Legolanthas doubted that he¡¯d still be alive. Despite his doubts however, the Dragon had found himself enthralled by Hoplite. There was something oddly familiar about the mortal, something that harkened him back to simpler times¡­ Perhaps it was the cold calculating demeanor, perhaps it was of his inordinate size and armaments, but something about him drew the Dragon¡¯s curiosity. These past few days spent skulking in the shadows had provided him only limited insight into the man¡¯s true nature.


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    He knew that he was pale as a ghost beneath that plate armor, as if he rarely, if ever, saw the sun. Legolanthas had also learned that Hoplite possessed the golden-eyes of a dragon, yet they were not slitted, as his own were. There were other bloodlines on Ahkoolis that could cause the eyes to yellow like that, perhaps he was Wolf-Born? If that were so, where was his pack? He¡¯d not have wanted to be separated from them if that were the case, Wolf-Born were much like the Atheyare that way. None of these others bore wolf-eyes, it was impossible for them to be in a pack.


    No, he couldn¡¯t be Wolf-Born, but neither could he be half-Dragon. Legolanthas had not fostered any half-breeds for centuries, and he¡¯d not pursued the pleasures of the flesh in that same timeframe. That ruled out the possibility of Hoplite being his long lost son. Unless¡­ could he be a descendant? His children had fostered their own young over the years, diluting his divine blood as the age continued on. Yet that seemed unlikely, if Hoplite was truly of distant relation, he¡¯d be smaller, his eyes would be a standard shade, and he would carry himself with far less pride.


    The more he thought on it, the more Legolanthas began to suspect that what Mazeek had claimed could be true. There was only one way to know of Hoplite¡¯s lineage for certain, and that would be to spill his blood. If it dripped hot like magma, then Legolanthas would know for certain that the Banished Child had returned. Perhaps this coming battle would provide the Dragon with the answers he so dearly seeked¡­ He¡¯d been away from the east for far too long, his people needed him to return.

 Chapter Ten: Scarred

    The Fiends tore a path forward, snarling and rabid, ready to tear into his flesh for a chance at easing their pains. As the tidal wave of flesh moved forth, Hoplite¡¯s perception of time slowed, allowing him to consider his options. He could fall back to get a better position, holing up inside the rest stop along with the others.


    If he did that however, it would be more difficult to finish off Tolak, the mutant would be able to sit outside the tunnel comfortably while his minions whittled away at the party. Perhaps it would be best to engage him here, after all, these standard Fiends would be unable to harm Hoplite. The most they could do was get in his way.


    There was also the matter of the massive Fiend that still loomed above the horde, staring dumbly ahead. It towered over Hoplite by at least two feet, with arms and legs as broad as tree trunks. It was almost certainly a lesser threat than Tolak, a simple bullet to the brain would incapacitate it permanently, though the orc seemed to be almost¡­ docile. Hoplite took aim with the Visus anyway, pulling the trigger and sending the bullet flying towards the giant¡¯s skull. The bullet collided with the orc¡¯s forehead, knocking its head back and causing it to stumble, yet it did not fall. Hoplite had heard a plink through the cacophony of roaring voices, and the beast¡¯s head returned, clutching its skull with a weeping cry.


    Was this creature like Tuji, with skin like steel? If that were the case, then overwhelming it with a barrage of bullets would have to be the solution. If he caused the Fiend enough pain, it would collapse into a useless husk, no matter how tough its skin. He flicked the Visus to semi-auto, firing two bursts aimed at the beast''s knees. Tolak however, leapt to intercept. Almost too fast for his eyes to track, the chains whipped forth, knocking all six bullets off course and into the surrounding Fiends. Tolak landed, darting toward Hoplite with a wide grin on his face.


    He was far faster than the surrounding Fiends, closing the distance between himself and Hoplite within only a few seconds. He put away the Visus, pulling free the Sectis as Tolak finally came within range. The two chains whipped forth at blinding speed, narrowly missing his helmet as he ducked, thrusting toward Tolak¡¯s chest. The mutant sidestepped the blow, twisting around with a punch aimed squarely for Hoplite¡¯s head. He seized the fist, but before Hoplite could apply pressure to shatter the hand, Tolak took a deep breath. Somehow, his hand phased through Hoplite¡¯s gauntlet, becoming transparent before solidifying again. Tolak cackled as he backflipped away, landing cleanly in front of his horde before they parted around him. The creatures charged Hoplite with mad fervor, and he met them with fist and blade.


    Going for vitals would prove to be a waste of effort, striking them anywhere would be enough to put them down. Fist crushed skull, Sectis parted cursed flesh, all blows landing indiscriminately at the grasping flesh around him. Only a few seconds had passed and already a circle of gore and twitching limbs surrounded him. At some point, he had grabbed a beefier Fiend by the wrist, flinging the mutant around to knock away its comrades. This proved to be wonderfully effective, often sending the surrounding creatures flying into one another and causing more injury.


    ¡°Halm!¡± Tolak shouted from the crowd, ¡°Crush the others, I will deal with this one!¡±


    A loud guttural roar answered the order, and Hoplite could see the giant Fiend trampling over its fellows, charging towards the rest-stop. He could see no one else but Michael standing there, frustratingly motionless as the marine stared blankly at the tunnel''s interior. Before Hoplite could shout an order however, Michael seemed to steel himself, charging into the tunnel after clicking on his headlamp.


    Hoplite reared back, planting his foot firmly on the stone behind him before he flung the bloodied remains of his improvised Fiend toward the towering beast. The projectile''s lower half was almost completely gone, nothing but bone and shreds of muscle remained, the guts flapping in the wind as it flew toward its target like a rocket. Again, Tolak leapt, but Hoplite, who had anticipated the motion, lashed out with his free hand, jumping to meet the Fiend in mid-air.


    A single chain struck the flying husk off course, causing it to narrowly miss the orc. Instead, the unfortunate creature collided head-first with the stone barrier rail, splattering on impact like a fly on a windshield. Hoplite¡¯s hand lashed out again, looking to crush Tolak¡¯s windpipe with a quick squeeze.


    Again, Tolak took a deep breath, his form once again becoming incorporeal for but an instant. Hoplite¡¯s hand passed through the shimmering form as if it were air, and then the chains came for him. A barrage of blows struck his shields, once, twice, five times, even more until finally they burst, all in the span of a second. Hoplite collided with the ground, rolling with his momentum to come up standing.


    Tolak greeted his vision, standing tall with his arms crossed, that increasingly irritating grin still on his face. Why was it that this expression seemed to irk him so? He never used to care about such trifling things. No matter, now was not the time to think on it, something more pressing needed thought. Hoplite was certain that he had just found a weakness in that last exchange, one that he could take advantage of, when the positioning was just right.


    The chains didn¡¯t seem to deflect blows from up close, meaning that close-quarters were necessary. If he could close the distance again, he could pull out the Fortis and blast Tolak¡¯s head off before he could become transparent. It seemed that ability was activated by a sharp intake of breath, if he could get a shot off before the Fiend could do that, then he¡¯d be neutralized. Hoplite darted forward again, eliminating the Fiends that had filled the gap between the two of them before again he thrusted for Tolak¡¯s heart.


    His hand reached down toward the Fortis as he did so, pulling the magnum free before quickly taking aim. Just as planned, bullet tore through skull¡­ the problem was, it was the wrong head that had been splattered. Tolak had forgone his strange breath magic, instead opting to dodge the blade thrust, counter-striking with firm fingertips. He had not struck Hoplite though, but rather the barrel of the Fortis itself, knocking its aim off center right as he had pulled the trigger.


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    It seemed like a risky move on his part, would it not be better to simply phase again? Tolak couldn¡¯t have known what Hoplite had planned, so perhaps there was a short period of time where he couldn¡¯t phase after using it. If that were the case, then if he overwhelmed the Fiend with blows, then eventually one would hit. All Hoplite needed to ensure his victory was to land just one clean hit, the pain would slow Tolak down enough for further damage to be inflicted.


    Tolak backpedaled as Hoplite slashed, a tense look on his face as he barely managed to dodge Hoplite¡¯s flurry of blows. It felt strangely satisfying to see that damnable smirk wiped from the creature''s expression. This show of emotion seemed to prove his theory, there was a window between his phases that Hoplite could take advantage of. This fight was as good as finished. Tolak was incredibly fast, able to dodge every single blow from Hoplite, but he was clearly on the ropes.


    Tolak had clearly never faced anyone as deft as himself before. Hoplite was certain that he would have been able to land a hit a while ago if not for the dozens of Fiends that still pooled around him. They kept absorbing blows that may have been able to clip Tolak, getting in the way as they scrambled to either move past or latch onto him. They barely slowed him down, true, but those few instants were crucial in aiding Tolak¡¯s survival.


    Again, Tolak phased, backflipping through the air. Hoplite fired the Fortis, the bullet speeding toward the solidifying form before being deftly deflected by one of his chains. This was proving to be a most frustrating encounter. Never before had all his attacks been made ineffective like this, it made his face hot with rage. It took a great effort to cool the heat of his anger, but his icy discipline eventually won out. Was he too far outside of Twindil¡¯s range for her aura to affect him? It was possible¡­


    He charged at a gasping Tolak, flattening the Fiends that flooded his path with ease as he bore down on the smaller man. This needed to end now. He was certain that he¡¯d manage to get the mutant eventually, but the squad didn¡¯t have that long before they¡¯d be overrun. If he could incapacitate Tolak, then the Fiends would revert to their normal state, i.e, charging the nearest uninfected individual. That wouldn¡¯t do anything to pull the mutants already in the tunnel away, but the greater horde out here would be compelled to pursue Hoplite.


    They just needed to hold out until then, and based off the dozens of lights emanating from the tunnel, they were doing fairly well. The giant was nowhere in sight, meaning that it must have entered the rest-stop. Hopefully they had taken care of that one already, but only time would tell.


    He stabbed at Tolak again, and the Fiend ducked, but instead of backpedaling, he retaliated. His chains whipped at Hoplite in a flurry, quickly bursting his shields again before one wrapped around his throat. Tolak laughed madly as Fiends piled on top of Hoplite, the chain constricting around his neck as several pairs of fists wailed ineffectually at his armor.


    ¡°You¡¯re finished now!¡± He heard the Fiend mock, ¡°All that armor and speed proved useless against me and my horde, now suffocate!¡±


    Idiot.


    Hoplite clipped the Fortis to his thigh, reaching up to grasp the chain around his neck, unbothered by its constriction. If Tolak had understood anything about Adium, he would have known that it couldn¡¯t bend. Trying to strangle Hoplite was useless. He yanked on the chain, feeling something come forward with minimal resistance. As that happened, he attacked the horde piling onto him with the Sectis, parting limb and flesh until again he could see the sky above. Tolak stood there, both hands grasping the other side of the chain as his heels dug into stone to resist being dragged.


    Now that he was somewhat immobilized, this would be simple, even with his ability to phase. He hacked his way toward the Fiend, disemboweling mutants left and right as he wrapped the chain further around his gauntlet. The other chain still battered at his helmet, floating in the air above him as it whipped. A dangerous weapon, true, but it lacked any real weight to its attacks, it was nothing compared to the blows that Tuji had dealt.


    He drew closer and closer to the Fiend, a look of panic coming over the creature''s face. It filled Hoplite with a sense of satisfaction to see that expression, to know that he had destroyed his arrogance. When finally he was within striking range, he lashed out, stabbing at Tolak¡¯s heart. Again, Tolak phased, and it was then that Hoplite discovered something. The chains themselves didn¡¯t fade away with him, otherwise he would have lost his grasp on them. Advantageous, especially seeing that Tolak also didn¡¯t lose his grip. He couldn¡¯t get away now.


    The blade passed through his chest, but instead of drawing it back, Hoplite held it in place. Tolak¡¯s eyes widened, and in that last instant, he tried to move away from the blade. Hoplite followed him, the blade still deep within his transparent chest as Tolak re-solidified¡­ The Sectis embedded within him. He gave a shrill scream of agony as Hoplite twisted the blade, ripping it free with an explosion of viscera.


    He then planted his foot firmly on the bridge, and aimed a straight jab right at Tolak¡¯s forehead. His fist collided with skin and bone, shattering it and painting the stones behind Tolak crimson. The end result of that punch left the entire upper half of Tolak¡¯s skull missing, leaving only a lower jaw and a lolling tongue.


    Yet, instead of falling prone, Tolak¡¯s body slowly stumbled away¡­ the spare chain whipping around in an uncontrolled frenzy. It struck indiscriminately, lashing Fiends and sending them to the ground screaming in agony. Hoplite promptly released the second chain, backing away as the two chains went wild, a dervish of blurring metal. It stripped flesh from any Fiend that drew too close to its range, reducing them to little more than babbling flesh as Tolak continued to stumble away.


    After that, it seemed that as he had hoped, the horde had reverted to standard behavior. The creatures all charged him, fury and desperation in their eyes as they tried to pry through his armor. He battered, slashed and shot, crushed and mangled his attackers beyond any recognition, time ceased to exist as he neutralized the surrounding threats. Eventually, all became still, leaving nothing but piles of twitching broken limbs and puddles of gore.


    He was covered nearly head to toe in blood as he approached the now-quiet rest-stop, still clutching the Sectis tightly as he did so. Hopefully casualties would be at a minimum, but he would see for sure once he-


    The giant Fiend from earlier, Halm, then rounded the corner, a strange look of¡­ serenity on its face. Had it managed to- it couldn¡¯t have actually-


    He charged, drawing the Fortis as the creature raised its hands, palms outward.


    ¡°Wait!¡± It screamed as the rest of the squad emerged from the tunnel behind it.

 Chapter Eleven: Onslaught

    Twindil cursed as she rushed into the tunnel, the ravening horde in hot pursuit. There had to be hundreds of the accursed creatures out there, if not more. She turned her head to see Michael still standing there, a blank expression on his face as he stared at the looming darkness ahead. She turned on her heel, rushing past the others to reach him. She may not have known him all too well, but Twindil wasn¡¯t about to allow the Outworlder to suffer a fate worse than death. When she was about half-way to him, he seemed to snap out of his stupor, flicking on the light-caster affixed to the side of his helmet before running to meet her.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked, running by his side as the others urged them along.


    They all stood just in front of the wagon, waving and shouting for them to hurry. Lance particularly looked stressed, green eyes wide as she practically shouted through closed teeth for the two of them to run faster. Michael didn¡¯t respond, neither to Twindil or the party''s shouts. He somehow managed to look both determined and terrified as his light illuminated the blackness before him.


    The light that bled in from the outside barely reached the wagon, and everything behind it seemed to be pitch black aside from where his light-caster illuminated. That was right¡­ he had intense nyctophobia from his time trapped in that rotting sarcophagus. She truly hoped that he¡¯d be alright, Michael might be horribly vulgar, but he didn¡¯t deserve to become cursed by Spiralling Death. If he froze up again during this encounter however, that might just be his fate. Hopefully this newfound bravery would hold fast against the coming tide.


    By time they both reached the wagon, the horde rounded the corner, quickly flooding into the corridor. Indeed it did seem as if it were a flood, for the Fiends trampled over one another in such a way that they seemed to be a purple typhoon. She could see several of the poor creatures get crushed by their fellows, no doubt leaving dozens of them with shattered bones. The sight of the looming threat nearly forced her to take a step back, terror temporarily seizing her in its icy grip.


    Her features hardened, holding the grip of her sword firmly as she stood before the accursed. No fear, no anger, just¡­ peace. Now that she was calm, she could be able to-


    ¡°Eat this you buncha purple people eaters!¡± Michael shouted loudly, before promptly flicking a switch on his rifle.


    Thunder flashed in the darkness, briefly illuminating the dim corridor as dozens of Fiends simply collapsed to the ground in bleeding heaps. Her sensitive ears rang after the first shot, leaving all other sounds nigh-inaudible. Several Fiends fell to the ground, though they did not bleed from what she could see in the dim light. Instead, they clutched their ears, their mouths agape in a silent scream, at least it was silent to her ears.


    She spared a brief glance at Michael, seeing those bright blue eyes wide with borderline madness. His mouth worked, still shouting as he unloaded an entire ¡®magazine¡¯ as he had called it, into the horde. Despite the inconvenience to her hearing, the enclosed tunnel meant that sound would be amplified¡­ and with how loud that gun was, it would cause temporary pain in the form of ringing ears¡­


    Temporary for everyone, except for Fiends. The ones that fell bucked and writhed, enclosing their ears with their hands in an attempt to drown out the horrid ringing in their eardrums. Not all of the Fiends fell however, some powered through the ringing pain, trampling over those who fell in their mad rush to reach the party. After a couple seconds, Michael¡¯s gun stopped firing, and she saw as he quickly ejected the spent magazine, slotting in a fresh one in as little as two seconds before again he began firing.


    The horde was closing fast however, and the barrage of bullets served only to slow them by a hair. Michael backed away, still shooting until the next magazine was spent. Again, she spared the briefest glance for him, seeing the man climb into the back of the wagon before he once again reloaded. She then turned her attention back to the horde, seeing the angel Baomiel rushing forward. Alistair had thankfully managed to summon the being just in time, the creature would prove invaluable in this conflict.


    An angel couldn¡¯t contract the curse after all, they were a being not made of true flesh. Massive ape-like fists smote and crushed all that they met, Baomiel¡¯s humanoid upper half conjuring a long spear-sword of light that severed head and limb with ease. The beast parted the sea of Fiends around it, the two separate streams hugging the wall to move past the angel and reach the party.


    Twindil drew on Afina¡¯s peace, raw Foundation funneling towards the goddess for conversion. It flowed back into Twindil like a spike of ice piercing her back, sending chills up her neck as it suppressed all the fear within her. She channeled that freezing peace into her blade, an aura of white surrounding both herself and her sword. It used to be that she could only channel this power into her weapon, it was only recently she¡¯d learned to expand its reach.


    She was faster now, stronger, but most importantly¡­ completely tranquil. Even as the horde finally reached them, she felt no fear. She brought her blade down upon the first Fiend, a skinny husk with wispy white hair, bisecting it laterally before she struck again. Her sword cleaved through the top half of a skull, sending the cap splattering to the stones.


    Another barrage of bullets rang out from the wagon, sending another dozen Fiends crashing to the stones in agony, either from fresh wounds or clutching at their ears as the ringing of their ears intensified. She caught a glimpse of Nolvi, standing directly behind Alistair with the veins leading to her eyes bulging. Dozens more collapsed from just her mere stare, fresh lashes appearing across their exposed flesh. Had she wished it, Nolvi could have inflicted more grievous wounds upon the Fiends, but it would have been wasted effort. The stripping of flesh would serve better to deal with the cursed, overwhelming them with pain to the point of collapse.


    Alistair opted for the opposite, conjuring raw Foundation, the Golden Flame enveloping his hammer before he swung it in a wide arc. The head of the hammer collided with several Fiends, the Golden Flame completely enveloping whatever it came into contact with. The sun-like radiance stuck to the fallen Fiends for only seconds before they were reduced to white ash, yet these brief instants proved to be catastrophic to the incoming horde. The creatures would scramble to try and make it to Alistair, moving over the still-burning bodies of their fellows. Soon a bonfire of Foundation lit the surrounding darkness, slowly spreading outward as more fed the fire. All Alistair had to do was maintain it, but the larger this fire became, the more difficult it would be for him to control. He could potentially burn himself out, even with his innate talents.


    Unfortunately it didn¡¯t seem to be spreading fast enough to disintegrate the rest of their attackers, but it was making a noticeable dent in their forces. Kid¡¯ka moved as a blur to her right, his sword biting through cursed flesh almost too quickly for her eyes to see. Lance stayed just behind him, where only a few Fiends could surround her. The vast majority on this side of the tunnel charged directly for Twindil and Kid¡¯ka, but a group of about ten opted to head straight for the Watcher.


    A harrowing amount of foes for one pure mortal to face, but thankfully Lance was very capable with those twin blades she carried. Her long dark hair swirled as she lopped a Fiend¡¯s hand off at the wrist, stabbing her other blade through its throat before promptly ripping it free, leaving a fountaining wound in its place. She didn¡¯t have time to see how she would handle the other nine, her attention now firmly on the looming figure now standing at the end of the tunnel.


    She¡¯d caught a glimpse of that one before they had to retreat into the rest stop¡­ if it was alive and here, did that mean that Hoplite had been slain? She found that thought hard to believe, but she seriously doubted that the Outworlder would allow this thing to get past him. Perhaps that other Fiend, the one with the chains, had Hoplite occupied?


    ¡°Survive this battle, and you¡¯ll find out.¡± She thought to herself as she cleaved apart another group of the accursed.


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    A stream of smoking green liquid then shot out like a geyser from her left, spattering against purple flesh and melting it clean off the bone in seconds. The acid then ate through bone before that too disappeared, turning whatever it touched into a screaming mass of sloughing flesh. The acid left bubbling puddles in the Setstone, stripping the flesh off the feet of any Fiends that opted to pass across it. Elum¡¯s acid couldn¡¯t have been timed more perfectly, catching many of the creatures in the blast.


    These too fell over one another, leaving the melting Fiends to be trampled underfoot as the horde pressed on. With how proficiently they all were controlling this crowd, it seemed as if the party¡¯s victory was inevitable¡­ assuming they could keep this up. The line of the accursed still stretched far, and more still emerged from the corner every second. Besides the stream of fresh Fiends, the massive creature was coming closer, taking slow, struggling steps as it plowed forth over its crippled kindred. It was on her side of the tunnel¡­ meaning that the first one it would come into contact with would be her.


    She was not daunted by the size of this cursed orc, a single quick slash from her blade would reduce it to a screaming mess. In fact, she might not even have to fight this thing at all. A single shot from Michael¡¯s rifle would do the job, and right as she had the thought, the thing''s chest was riddled with bullets. However, instead of penetrating the flesh as expected, they pinged right off its skin, ricocheting off the surrounding walls before finding a home in weaker flesh. Something then whizzed right past her ear, plinking off into the darkness of the tunnel behind her.


    Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her. One of those stray rounds had almost hit her in the head¡­ She had not the steel flesh of Tuji, meaning that- By the Pillars, she had almost died! She had the blood of a God running through her veins, but bullets didn¡¯t seem to discriminate based on lineage. They¡¯d put holes in whatever they could, she¡¯d need to keep that in mind for the future.


    The creature seemed almost completely unaffected by that barrage, pressing forward with a loud grunt. At least, that¡¯s what its mouth seemed to motion¡­ she couldn¡¯t hear anything still. Well, for the most part. She was certain that Michael had just shouted some kind of derogatory slur at the beast before he went back to shooting the horde. In that lapse of continuous gunfire, the Fiends had gained, leaving only a mere twenty paces between them and the wagon.


    She had no time to move over to that gap however, for the towering orc was now upon her. Kid¡¯ka wouldn¡¯t be able to aid her, he was fighting for his life, getting backed further and further into the tunnel toward Lance as the ravening Fiends sought to rend the flesh from his bones. Elum, Alistair, and Nolvi too were doing everything they could to simply keep the creatures back, but they were swiftly losing ground. The Flames of Foundation were slowly beginning to die down as Alistair fought on, sweat soaking his red headband as he gasped greedily for air between swings.


    Maintaining the Flame like this was going to singe him if he wasn¡¯t careful, but what choice did he have? It was either risk being burned, or succumb to the curse¡­ She knew which option she¡¯d choose. Gripping her blade, she rushed forth to meet the charging horde, praying to Afina that her armor would hold out against this thing. If it inflicted any pain upon her, she¡¯d be cursed for all eternity.


    Twindil would not allow that to happen. She cleaved through another host of Fiends that filled the space between them, her face expressionless as Afina¡¯s peace flooded her; empowered her, the cold void freezing her fidgeting fear as she reduced bodies to twitching piles of screaming meat. The orc was before her now, rearing its shoulders back in an odd way as she held her blade at the ready.


    It didn¡¯t appear to be readying itself for a blow¡­ in fact, it seemed to be trying to¡­ hold itself back? More Fiends poured around it as it clenched its teeth, those big yellow eyes looking horribly agonized. She swept about her, downing dozens more as the freezing void within her held fast. Twindil¡¯s swings were faster than any mortal could track, forming a bubble of flashing steel around her.


    Yet still, the orc did nothing, rearing back those shoulders as it stared down at her, sharp teeth clenched nearly to their breaking point. Then, something strange happened¡­ Twindil couldn¡¯t hear it, but the beast¡¯s lips moved as it spoke. The word seemed to be¡­ sorry?


    ¡°Sorry.¡± It mouthed again as its shoulders freed themselves from an invisible grip.


    A massive fist then came flying toward her, nearly catching her in the breastplate as she sidestepped the attack. The wind that passed from the force of the blow blew her hair out of her face, and she barely had time to duck under a heavy kick that was aimed for her midsection. If it wanted to kill her, it would have gone for her head, but the goal was not to end her life¡­


    It was to cause her agony. She rolled forward between the orcs legs, coming up to a kneel before swinging her sword at the orcs leg. The blade normally would have parted the flesh with ease, but it only sliced through about an inch of skin before coming to a complete halt. The shock exploded up her arms and into her shoulders, her enhanced strength reflecting back on her from the impact. She tugged hard, pulling the weapon free right as a massive hand gripped her shoulder, crushing it beneath an iron grip that crumpled the steel beneath it.


    Twindil¡¯s breath caught as agony exploded through shattered bone and broken steel poked through flesh. Afina¡¯s void shook within, nearly vanishing as terror washed upon it. It was over now, the curse would take hold soon¡­ if everyone survived this battle somehow, she would request that Alistair put her down, it would be painless that way¡­


    No time to think on that now, this wound was debilitating and needed to be healed. The steel piercing her flesh would be forced out, but that section of her armor was permanently ruined. She then felt herself being lifted from the ground, her blade clattering to the stones below as Fiends swarmed over it like ants on a crumb. The orc lifted her up to its face, still clutching her tightly by the ruined shoulder. Its face still looked horribly pained, but its yellow eyes had retained a certain¡­ clarity.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± It mouthed, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, forgive me.¡±


    That¡¯s right¡­ wounding her had restored some cognition to this cursed monster. It was seeking forgiveness for what it had done to her. A hard thing to forgive, cursing her in this way, but she would accept the apology. Had she been in that much pain, who was to say she wouldn¡¯t have done the same? Its hand ceased crushing her shoulder, the orc moving to cradle her instead as if she were some kind of newborn babe.


    ¡°I can¡¯t stop for long¡­¡± It wheezed, its voice suddenly audible, ¡°Forgive me!¡±


    Michael hadn¡¯t fired his gun in a long while, relatively anyhow. Had he been overrun? The orc then raised another shaky hand, reaching toward her other shoulder with an open palm. It sought to crush her other shoulder as well! She¡¯d not allow this to happen, she may have already been cursed, but she needed her other hand to swing her blade! She struggled to escape the things grip, but it held her tightly to its chest, hardly seeming to exert any effort as it kept her immobile.


    She had to think, and quickly, or she¡¯d be reduced to a useless, crippled mess, or even worse, as another Fiend for her friends to fight. Yet what was she to do? Her blade could only cause a dent, and that had fallen to the ground below. She could try punching the thing, but with its steely flesh her fists would be completely useless. She could try to blind it with magical light, but all it had to do was keep its grasp on her. There seemed to be nothing that she could do to get out of this.


    Unless¡­


    Desperately, she reached out for Foundation, allowing Afina to build her House as she gripped the orc¡¯s massive hand with her own.


    ¡°Be-¡± She gasped desperately, ¡°Be healed!¡±


    Power flowed through her hand, quickly enveloping the orc in a misty white vapor. The creature froze for a moment, teeth clenching as those yellow eyes bulged. A sharp intake of breath cut through the cacophony of roars surrounding the two of them, before finally it released in a relieved sigh. Lucidity returned to those eyes, the pain-driven monster coming back to himself as he grimaced at her injury.


    ¡°I¡­ Thank you, little one.¡± He said, adjusting his grip to cradle her, ¡°I will help drive them off for you, in the meantime, heal yourself.¡±


    That voice was no longer that of a barely constrained savage, but of an almost noble, unshakable warrior. He was right, she needed to heal herself to get back into the fighting¡­ and to stave off the madness of becoming a Fiend. Oddly enough, her skin still had yet to turn purple¡­ she had read once that the curse completely engulfed its victim in under a minute. Time had ceased to exist after this battle had begun, had it been minutes, hours? How long had it been since she¡¯d been wounded by this orc?


    There was no time for pondering this now¡­ She put a hand to her own shoulder, repeating the same incantation and enveloping herself within Afina¡¯s power. She felt the shards of steel being forced from her flesh, bones being knit back together, before finally her skin sealed with an audible steam-like hiss.


    She dearly hoped that Hoplite would be joining them soon, even with their new ally, they weren¡¯t likely to last much longer.

 Chapter 12: The Mouth of Zodd

    "Wait!" The orc screamed again as Hoplite charged toward him, blade drawn and ready to skewer the now-peaceful Fiend.


    Twindil rushed forward, stepping into Hoplites path with her features firmed. "Calm yourself and let me explain!" She shouted across the span between them, her voice echoing across the bridge.


    Hoplite slowed his advance, coming to a hesitant stop yet not sheathing his knife. Once he was within a few paces of her, he stopped, though his helmet never turned away from Halm. She couldn''t blame him for his caution of course, even with lucidity restored, a talking Fiend was still a Fiend.


    "Michael, Lance, by me now!" Hoplite shouted suddenly, "Stay clear of the infected!"


    Michael, without even an instant of hesitation, rushed to his superior''s side, a slight grimace on his face. Lance did not seem as eager to leap at Hoplite¡¯s word, but after a quick glance at Halm, she too ran over. Twindil briefly wondered if her hesitation could have something to do with what Hoplite had said to her earlier, right as this conflict started.


    No one wanted to be told they¡¯d be useless at anything, much less a warrior like Lance. Yet, Hoplite had been correct to tell her (and by extension, the party) to retreat into the tunnel. Had they not done so, they all would have been subjected to the curse for sure. The thought of the Death-Spiral made her grimace, a hand reaching to her now-bare shoulder that Halm had shattered earlier. It had been several minutes since then¡­ but still the curse had not taken hold. Could it have something to do with her lineage? Was she immune to the curse because of that?


    It was hard to say, but she¡¯d need to keep an eye on herself. It could have just been slowed down by her divine blood, not stopped. Only time would tell¡­ Besides that, she knew that Hoplite would be loaded with questions for why she hadn¡¯t been turned into a Fiend. It hurt her to do so, but she¡¯d need to lie or feign ignorance, she could not allow the Outworlder to suspect that she was a Godling.


    That would surely cause segregation or outright conflict, and as of this moment, they could not afford to be apart from one another. Hoplite¡¯s nigh-invulnerability ensured that he¡¯d never be cursed, and his ability to crush entire armies of Fiends would spare her friends unnecessary risk. She also didn¡¯t want to lose Lance¡¯s trust¡­ Twindil and her had built a steady rapport during their time together, she didn¡¯t want to lose that.


    The Watcher was terrified of Godlings, as all mortals were. Just her description of Tuji painted the half-orc as a horrific demon from myth, she had no doubt that she¡¯d think of Twindil in that exact same light if she ever learned the truth.


    ¡°Sir,¡± Michael said after a moment, ¡°I expended half of our ammunition¡­¡±


    ¡°The assets were used properly private, at ease.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°Why is it not hostile?¡± He continued, tilting his helmet toward the orc.


    ¡°I¡­¡± She began, removing her hand from her shoulder, ¡°I healed him right as he was about to hurt me, and he joined our side in the battle.¡±


    ¡°But you do have an injury.¡± Hoplite pointed out, ¡°Your armor is compromised.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± She hesitated, ¡°I healed myself before the curse could spread.¡± She lied, averting her eyes as shame filled her. Oh how she hated lying¡­


    ¡°It must be true,¡± Lance said, ¡°It would have spread over her within a minute, and she looks completely normal.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°We¡¯ll keep that in mind for the future, in case any more injuries are sustained.¡±


    Twindil¡¯s eyes widened a fraction at the outright acceptance of her explanation. She had expected far more scrutiny than that from him. For a moment she had been nervous that he¡¯d open up a line of questioning that would have somehow led to her revealing her lineage. She looked to Lance, pursing her lips in thought. Was it because he trusted her word? Seeing the Outworlder put that much faith in someone that wasn¡¯t from his own realm was surprising to say the least.


    ¡°I am indebted to you, small one.¡± The orc said suddenly, his head tilting down toward her, ¡°You have¡­ you have given something precious back to me. My agonies are gone now, as is the fog that occluded my thinking. I am a beast no more, and thanks to you I can resume my quest.¡±


    ¡°A quest?¡± Elum asked, making sure to maintain a good distance from the Fiend, ¡°You had a quest in the Fiendwood?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ It was around¡­ say, two-hundred years ago now. I desired to burn the Rotting Ilum and end Kazon¡¯s reign once and for all¡­ but I was arrogant, and became cursed soon after crossing the bridge.¡± The orc said with a frown, looking past Hoplite and into the distance, ¡°I did not lose my faculties then, rather, the pains of the years piled on, unceasing until I became little more than an animal, no different than the poor creatures twitching at our feet.¡±


    ¡°How did you find your way back to the bridge?¡± Alistair asked, hammer still drawn. Even with how exhausted he looked, he still appeared ready to lash out at Halm in an instant.


    ¡°That monster, Tolak, found me and made me into his pet, for lack of better words. He promised a way to alleviate my pains, but only if I followed his every word¡­ and with my mind and will diminished, I complied. He never let me inflict enough pain to become sane again, only enough to keep me from collapsing¡­ I¡¯ll never forgive myself for cursing the brave souls who sought to follow in my footsteps¡­¡± His fists then clenched, his yellow eyes becoming steel as they glared toward the horizon, ¡°Now I can burn the Rotting Ilum and end the curse!¡±


    ¡°What are you called?¡± Nolvi asked, eyes firmly locked on the ground near the orc¡¯s feet.


    ¡°I am Halm, the next in line to be the Mouth of Zodd.¡± The orc replied, puffing out his chest to emphasize the strange growth on his right pectoral.


    A sort of tumor perhaps? What did that have to do with being the Mouth of Zodd, and what even was that title? Kid¡¯ka gasped audibly, taking a cautious step towards the towering Fiend with awe.


    ¡°You¡­ the Tongue is in you now?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked, raising the back of his hand to reveal the tattoo of Zodd¡¯s tongue.


    Halm¡¯s expression went from dour to cheerful in an instant, ¡°Yes my boy! Are the rest of you Tongues as well?¡±


    ¡°Just me,¡± Kid¡¯ka replied quickly, ¡°W-we¡¯ve been without a M-mouth for centuries,¡± He stammered, ¡°Because we¡¯d lost The Tongue.¡±


    ¡°That was my fault.¡± Halm said with a sigh, ¡°I was next in line, but still I decided to take on this damned quest, and in doing so deprived the Tongues of proper leadership. Zodd hasn¡¯t spoken to any of the new Tongues since my departure, something I hope to rectify once I lift the curse.¡±


    ¡°I will lend you my aid.¡± Kid¡¯ka said in an unwavering tone, slamming his fist into his chest, ¡°Our goals seem to align, would you like to travel with us?¡±


    Before Halm could reply, Hoplite interjected, ¡°Negative. He is a risk to the squad and I won¡¯t let the infection spread among us.¡±


    ¡°But he seeks to lift the curse and slay Kazon!¡± Kid¡¯ka shouted, ¡°And he is mighty, you should have seen him in there-¡±


    ¡°You can have him be in your squad, but we will be leaving if you do.¡± Hoplite interrupted again, ¡°It can¡¯t be trusted.¡±


    Michael didn¡¯t react to his superior¡¯s words, simply standing beside him to see how things would play out. It almost came as a surprise, but Lance also raised no opposition to this idea, her hands still clutching her blades firmly as she stared at the towering form of Halm. It looked like she didn¡¯t trust the Fiend either. Twindil did, but she had to admit that was only because he¡¯d helped them fight. Everyone else likely still had reservations about being near any kind of Fiend, even one with lucidity. Well, everyone except for Kid¡¯ka apparently, whose face reddened a slight margin as he glared daggers at Hoplite¡¯s helmet.


    ¡°Fear not. I understand.¡± Halm said with a sad smile, ¡°I know what I am. But allow me to grant upon you all a boon¡­¡± He then pointed across the bridge, past Hoplite, ¡°Allow me to clear the bridge ahead of you, my kindred will not attack me, and I do not have the need for rest.¡±


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    ¡°You¡¯ll be controlled by Kazon the instant you step out of bounds.¡± Hoplite countered, ¡°Twindil is projecting a¡­ magic,¡± He struggled to say, ¡°Aura, to protect us from his influence.¡±


    Halm then waved a dismissive hand, ¡°That is a misconception that Faelanders have about Fiends¡­ Kazon does not actually control us. We¡¯re just as likely to attack him as we are anyone else, for he doesn¡¯t bear the curse. He can guide lesser-minded hordes to locations he wants assaulted, and he does have a few particularly powerful Fiends under his control, but his power is not absolute.¡±


    ¡°Tolak seemed able to control you and these others just fine.¡± Hoplite argued, ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±


    Halm shook his head, ¡°Tolak promised them all reliefs to their pains if they bound themselves to him, I was one of them, but now I am free.¡±


    ¡°These other mutants couldn¡¯t knowingly consent to an agreement like that.¡± Hoplite replied curtly, ¡°They can¡¯t even form basic sentences, it''s impossible that they¡¯d be able to understand any sort of deals.¡±


    ¡°Tolak didn¡¯t offer this deal with words¡­¡± Halm said with a frown, eyes seeming to grow distant a moment before his vision refocused on Hoplite, ¡°Believe me or not golem, it is the truth I speak.¡±


    Hoplite didn¡¯t reply, but there was still an air of danger about the Outworlder. One wrong move and he¡¯d try and destroy Halm, Twindil was certain. The orc rubbed at his face, clearing away some grime before again he sighed.


    ¡°Before I continue my quest, I would like to give you some forewarning about what lay within the Fiendwood.¡± He said, his yellow eyes seeming to take in all those present.


    Hoplite seemed to perk up at this, the air of danger still present but mitigated, ¡°Affirmative.¡±


    ¡°It would be nice.¡± Twindil nodded, ¡°Aside from what our guide knows, we are ignorant of the greater dangers within.¡±


    Her brows knit together as she thought of Theopalu. Where had he been when they were fighting for their lives? Had he run away? It didn¡¯t seem like him to abandon them outright, it was more likely that the elf had simply been asleep in the wagon. Knowing Theopalu, the sounds of combat likely didn¡¯t keep him from his slumber. The man could sleep through an earthquake, and that was no exaggeration.


    ¡°Take what I say with a grain of salt,¡± Halm said with an embarrassed shrug, ¡°Much of my time spent wandering those wastes was during my insanity, I can only recall impressions at most, aside from what lay within the Fiend-City of Akan-Var, which I had to pass through to reach the Fiendwood.¡±


    ¡°Please, anything you can tell us will be of great use to us, even if it''s just scant rememberings.¡± Twindil said with a smile.


    Halm smiled back, ¡°Stay clear of any trees you see, especially those with limp branches. I vaguely remember something stripping the skin off around those¡­¡± He said with a shudder, ¡°The water is tainted, that was what cursed me once I ran out of my supplies. Preserved food can be found in the ruins of Akan-Var, but it''s hard to find and could also bear the curse, I do not know for sure.¡± He continued, pausing to clear his throat, ¡°Akan-Var is a ruin infested with countless Fiends, many of which are Greater-Fiends, tread carefully and never stay in the open, take back alleys even if it sends you on a longer route. Your goal should be to get out of the city as soon as possible, if any Fiends see you, take them out before they can make noise or you¡¯ll be doomed.¡±


    ¡°How large is this city?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°Are there any routes we can take to avoid it?¡±


    Halm shook his head, ¡°Unfortunately not, I had looked for a long while, but unless you intend to swim ashore from the Shot, it''s impossible. Akan-Var¡¯s high walls surround the other end of the bridge, passage is impossible without passing through its gate, and thus through the city itself.¡± He explained, his face grimacing, ¡°As for the city itself¡­ it is massive, I cannot give you an exact estimate, but I would have to say that it is about half the size of the Faewood, assuming it hasn¡¯t expanded in these past centuries.¡±


    Lance goggled, mouth hanging slightly agape before she said, ¡°The Faewood takes up at least a fourth of the Faelands, that is even larger than Akan-Dar!¡±


    ¡°Indeed, it is so.¡± Halm replied, crossing his broad arms, ¡°In terms of circumference, that is, there were no floating Blocks in Akan-Var, it is¡­ traditional in its construction. It is where the survivors of the Ninth Godling war rebuilt after Ankoriss ascended.¡±


    ¡°Then it''s also infested with the infected from that time-period?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°How many Fiends do you estimate? And what are these ¡®Greater-Fiends?¡±


    Halm bit his lip as he thought, eyes rolling up to the sky before finally he replied, ¡°To start, most of those poor wretches who were cursed at the beginning of Decuma are hardly capable of moving, you¡¯ll see them twitching and moaning on the ground, but other then that they won¡¯t be a threat. There will still be thousands, if not tens of thousands within the walls that are still active, so again, tread carefully.¡± He then sighed, pointing a thumb at himself before he continued, ¡°A Greater-Fiend is someone who is about as dangerous as myself and Tolak, dangerous foes, be warned.¡±


    This information almost caused Twindil to shudder. An entire city infested with Fiends about as strong as Halm and Tolak? Even if it was only a hundred Greater-Fiends, that was still too great a challenge for her party to face alone, at least not yet. Besides, it was possible that no conflict with these creatures would come to pass, assuming that they could find a safe way through.


    ¡°We have someone with us that was in the city before the curse had taken place,¡± Twindil said, ¡°Hopefully he¡¯ll know a safe passage through, relatively safe of course, I¡¯m sure that there¡¯s no place in Akan-Var that¡¯ll be totally void of danger.¡±


    Halm¡¯s yellow eyes widened in surprise, ¡°Must be an elf then, don¡¯t know any other race that long-lived, he¡¯ll be invaluable.¡± He then turned his broad back to the party, facing the horizon and squaring his shoulders, ¡°But that is all I can truly remember, there isn¡¯t much time for you to finish your quest, you can only last as long as the supplies you brought with you.¡±


    She didn¡¯t know for sure, but Hoplite¡¯s shoulders seemed to ease, ever so slightly as Halm said that. There was no doubt in her mind that the Outworlder agreed with the Fiend.


    ¡°I have one more question.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Did you see any crashed escape shuttles, or any¡­¡± He hesitated before saying, ¡°Falling stars.¡± He almost sounded strained saying it that way.


    Halm then turned back to Hoplite, squinting before replying, ¡°Stars don¡¯t fall golem¡­¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Hoplite said curtly, ¡°Answer the question.¡±


    He sounded on the border of being irate, the formerly sturdy pillar of monotone straining beneath the great weight of his annoyance. She remembered back when they¡¯d first met, he¡¯d claimed that same exact thing, that stars couldn¡¯t fall and that it was idiotic to think such. Looking back on it, it was a bit silly of everyone to think that, but it had truly seemed that it had been the case at the time.


    ¡°Well¡­ I did see dozens of comets falling a while ago, I didn¡¯t put much thought into them at the time, but they did seem to come crashing down into the Fiendwood. Strange times we live in. Anyway, it is time that I be off.¡± With that, he turned his broad back, bracing himself to run.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Twindil started slowly, ¡°Halm, that¡¯s the wrong way, if you want to go to the Fiendwood, its back that way.¡± She finished, pointing in the opposite direction with her thumb.


    Halm¡¯s back then shot straight up, and he about faced back toward the party, a deep frown on his face, ¡°I knew that!¡± He shouted, ¡°I was just testing the young Tongue here to see if he would speak up about it!¡±


    Twindil could swear that there was an intense shade of red shining through the purple on his cheeks, but surely that could not be the case. Kid¡¯ka then placed a hand to his forehead, bowing before muttering apologies.


    ¡°Speak up boy!¡± Halm shouted.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t paying attention sir, please f-forgive my lack of perception!¡± Kid¡¯ka shouted back.


    Twindil frowned at the towering orc, unimpressed with his excuse. Kid¡¯ka had to be the most perceptive man in the party. It was just a simple mistake, it wasn¡¯t something to try and cover up with claims of some asinine test. Perhaps he simply didn¡¯t want their perception of him to change, or maybe just Kid¡¯ka¡¯s perception. He was the first Tongue Halm had seen in centuries, so it was likely that he wanted to seem impressive. Especially after saying that he was next in line to be the Mouth of Zodd. She wasn¡¯t quite sure what that entailed, but it sounded like a position of high status amongst the Tongues. She¡¯d ask her friend about it later, when they were all settled in for the night.


    ¡°Well, just remember that next time we meet, I may test you again, young one.¡± Halm said with a light huff, ¡°Alright, now I¡¯m off, I will clear the bridge for you all, I will see you on the other side, and you elf,¡± Halm paused, staring directly at Twindil, ¡°Thank you again for bringing me back from madness, I¡¯ll not forget it.¡±


    ¡°Afina¡¯s tranquility touches all who need it, good luck Halm.¡± Twindil replied.


    Halm smiled, ¡°Farewell.¡±


    With that, he took his leave, running down the bridge toward the decapitated Tolak. They all watched as Halm grappled the headless body, tearing the arms clean off the torso before throwing them aside, the whipping chains bouncing off his steel body without leaving even a dent in his skin. As the arms landed on the stone, they slowed, seeming to become lethargic as they were detached from their master. They were quite powerful magical weapons, surely there was one among them that could make use of them? One¡¯s spirit had to be compatible with the item before it could bind itself to them, so the only way to find out was to go and try to claim it.


    Now that things have calmed down, it seemed that this was a prime opportunity just for that. She looked away from Tolak¡¯s arms, and waved at Halm¡¯s retreating back, hoping that she would see him again, despite their first meeting. She did not blame him for his actions, suffering through hell for hundreds of years would drive anyone to madness. She was amazed that he¡¯d managed to come back to near-perfect sanity after having his pains washed away¡­ such torture surely had to leave a mark on his psyche, but it didn¡¯t appear that it had, at least, not outwardly. Such a strong will¡­


    She only hoped that she could stave away madness like Halm could.

 Chapter Thirteen: The Chains Chosen

    Lance let out a relieved sigh as the mountainous figure of Halm retreated into the distance. Sane or not, she could not bring herself to feel safe around one of the accursed. Despite that, she found herself wishing that his journey would be relatively safe for him. Losing his mind, only to regain it before losing it again sounded like a horrible fate, and despite her feelings, she could not say that Halm would deserve such a thing. He had been a hero on a quest to vanquish Kazon, a noble goal to be sure, one that she hoped he¡¯d succeed in. Ideally before her party encountered him of course.


    Strange, she had been so young when he had apparently ventured into the Fiendwood, only in her thirties if his timeline was accurate. Was that when she¡¯d began training as a Watcher? It had been so long since then, it was hard to remember. Everyone seemed to think that an elf¡¯s mind was a steel trap, but that was far from the truth. At least, it wasn¡¯t like that for Lance and most of her race. Terlin though, he truly did have an un-fading memory, much to the Trinkett clan¡¯s chagrin.


    She frowned at the fact that the council member had crossed her mind. Lance had enough to stress about at the moment, thinking of Terlin certainly wasn¡¯t going to help her remain calm.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Elum said with a stretch and a sigh, ¡°That was a good exercise, let''s not try and repeat it in the future, yes?¡± He asked no one in particular as he strode over toward the collapsed form of Tolak.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Alistair asked, quickly following after him, ¡°You¡¯re not thinking about taking those are you?¡±


    Elum shrugged in response as the others fell in step behind him, Twindil quickly overtaking him before he could reach the fallen Fiend.


    ¡°I know it''s tempting, but two things first Elum, I need to ensure that the chains won¡¯t somehow transfer the curse, and we need to figure out who the chains are compatible with.¡± She explained, grabbing him by the shoulder. His graying shoulder.


    Elum quickly shrugged out of her grasp, ¡°Don¡¯t touch me!¡± He snarled.


    He clutched at his discolored limb tightly, his red knuckles on his other hand turning white with strain. Lance could almost swear that the gray arm had¡­ shifted beneath Twindil¡¯s hand, but she was unsure if that was a trick of the light or not. He certainly didn¡¯t appreciate it being touched that way, but Twindil seemed to not be aware of that fact, for her eyes widened in shock as she stared at her friend. His devilish horns, red skin and snarling face truly made Elum appear the devil that many claimed Ifrit¡¯s to be.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Elum¡­ I didn¡¯t mean-¡± Twindil started.


    ¡°No.¡± Elum cut her off, ¡°Sorry for snapping at you. Just¡­¡± He paused with a heavy sigh, ¡°Just don¡¯t touch my arm again.¡±


    ¡°What, does it hurt?¡± Alistair asked in faux concern, ¡°Well quit being a pansy.¡± He sneered, ¡°Just ask her to heal it for you and it won¡¯t be sore.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t sore, you wretched fop.¡± Elum said snidely, ¡°Just¡­ just don¡¯t touch it, any of you.¡±


    ¡°Ugh,¡± Alistair grimaced, ¡°Wasn¡¯t planning on it.¡±


    ¡°Uwgh,¡± Elum mocked, pitching his voice high, ¡°Wasn¡¯t pwanning on et.¡±


    Lance couldn¡¯t help herself from moving towards them, sparing a glance for Hoplite to see if he¡¯d try and stop her. She didn¡¯t think that he would, and if he knew what was best for him he¡¯d keep his mouth shut, or she¡¯d give him the rough side of her tongue. She had almost done so earlier when he¡¯d shouted at her to get away from Halm¡­ but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to do that when his order was sensible.  He said nothing, simply looming over the collapsed bodies of the Fiends like a statue as his helmet faced the horizon. Likely he was pondering whether or not Halm could be trustworthy, not the worst way to utilize his intense paranoia to be sure.


    A deep bitterness at his earlier comment still seethed within her, but she¡¯d need to try and keep it in check. It was hard though, what he had said cut deep, but what was worse was the realization that he¡¯d been right to say it. It had made her furious at the time, but allowing her mind to become muddled that way during battle would have likely resulted in her death.


    ¡°Very mature.¡± Alistair sneered, crossing his arms.


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be fair to you to banter like an adult,¡± Elum said, a slight grin beginning to replace his snarl, ¡°Considering your limited mental capacity.¡±


    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡± Alistair said flatly, ¡°In that case though, it would be fair, considering that you¡¯re about the same size as a child.¡±


    Lance frowned, looking over to Elum and seeing that, while shorter than she, he was by no means child-sized. He was of a normal height certainly, maybe a bit on the thinner side¡­ He was smaller than Alistair though, who stood a head above the Ifrit.


    ¡°You admit through your own words that I¡¯m right.¡± Elum said, the snarl replaced with a smug smile. ¡°Baby-brained oaf-boy.¡±


    Alistair frowned and opened his mouth to retort, but a sharp, intent glance from Twindil made his words die in his mouth. The paladin shook her head and gave a sigh, taking note of Lance as she finally reached the group. Nolvi had been trailing right behind, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground at her feet. Hoplite and Michael still stood where they were previously, the Outworlders both conversing on how much ammunition remained in the wagon.


    ¡°If you could both act your ages please, we must focus on the matter at hand.¡± Twindil said, placing her fists on hips as she glowered at them, ¡°I understand that you both must be interested in that Fiend¡¯s chains, but I need you all to wait a moment while I try to identify them. After all, what if it gives its wielder the curse?¡± She asked sharply, ¡°We have to be careful, and remember, the item has to be compatible with whomever tries to wield it. In a way, the item has to choose you, not the other way around.¡±


    ¡°We know that.¡± Alistair replied curtly, ¡°But I don¡¯t believe the curse could possibly transfer through a magic item.¡±


    ¡°And with what are you basing this hunch?¡± Twindil asked, ¡°Is that really a risk you¡¯d like to take without first letting me ensure that it is safe?¡±


    Alistair remained silent a moment before he finally said, ¡°Very well, go ahead and check. As for my hunch, I¡¯ve seen members of my clan claim magical items from victims of other curses with no transfer, but you¡¯re right, no point in taking the risk.¡±


    Twindil then nodded firmly, clearly satisfied. She then looked to Lance, who had been standing just slightly to the side of the group, ¡°Are you also wishing to try and claim those chains?¡±


    Lance opened her mouth to deny any such intent, anything that had been wielded by a Fiend could surely not be anything but cursed¡­ but as she remembered what Hoplite had said, her mouth clamped shut. Maybe with these she could actually be able to join him on the battlefield again, just like when they¡¯d first met back in the Faewood. Strange, that seemed so long ago, yet in reality not even a full month had passed since they had first met.


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry yourself,¡± Twindil said, drawing Lance from her thoughts as she patted her shoulder reassuringly, ¡°We don¡¯t think you¡¯re being greedy for wanting them, the tools Tolak left behind would be better used serving our cause.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Lance started, ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I would deserve such a thing.¡± Her shoulders tensed as she spoke, staring over at the fallen body of Tolak, the chains gently snaking around on the stones, like loose roots seeking soil.


    The greed in her heart urged her to lash out for the chains, to shove Twindil aside to claim them for herself. That avarice dug a sickening pit of guilt in her heart, and she knew right then that she shouldn¡¯t be the one to take them.


    ¡°And who exactly deserves it? The Fiends?¡± Alistair asked, ¡°Better in our hands than theirs.¡±


    ¡°Plus,¡± Twindil interjected, ¡°It isn¡¯t exactly a matter of ¡®deserving¡¯ it, but whether or not the chains will choose to bond with you. Such creations have something of a soul of their own; if you can believe it.¡±


    Lance¡¯s lips pursed, ¡°So then I just need to have the same mentality as an evil Fiend and the chains will bind to me.¡± She said sarcastically, shaking her head, ¡°Perhaps they will choose none of us.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be evil.¡± Elum said sharply, ¡°One just needs to possess a personality trait that it favors.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I heard,¡± Alistair countered, ¡°You must be, for lack of better words, ¡®aligned¡¯ with the item. The Atheyare have been all across Ahkoolis, and have heard every single interpretation on how the bonding takes place, but our reasoning trumps all others, in my experience.¡±


    Elum sneered, though when he spoke, there was no heat in his tone, ¡°And what would that be?¡±


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    ¡°If the Soul within the creation thinks you¡¯ll use it for its intended purpose.¡± Alistair replied, crossing his arms, ¡°Think of a magic spoon, you wouldn¡¯t use that in a fight right? No, you¡¯d use it to eat of course, and that¡¯s what the Soul would¡­ I hesitate to say ¡®want¡¯, but that is the word that comes to mind. Bonding is based on intent alone, not morality or personality, it is preposterous.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t agree.¡± Twindil replied, ¡°At least, not completely. During my time in Akan-Dar, I¡¯ve seen bonding¡¯s take place where the wielder had no plans on using the items in their intended fashion, and oftentimes they would end up using them in ways alien to most folk.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say you were trying to be contrary,¡± Alistair said with a huff, ¡°but I know you hate that kind of thing. Truth is, no one knows for a fact what the requirements for a successful bonding are.¡±


    ¡°I know how to successfully bond with those chains.¡± Elum said with a smirk, his hand finally leaving his graying arm as he stood up straight, ¡°They will come to me like a puppy to a child once they see how devilishly handsome I am.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re ugly and the chains don¡¯t have eyes.¡± Alistair said, his brow furrowing in faux thought.


    ¡°Village lasses love me,¡± Elum replied with a snort, ¡°I¡¯m a bright red forbidden fruit and that burns you.¡±


    ¡°Pfft.¡± Alistair shot back smartly, ¡°I¡¯m a bwight wed fowbidden fwuit- shut up.¡± He mocked, pitching his voice higher as he grinned.


    As the two matched their ¡®wits¡¯ Lance looked to Twindil, who was glaring at the two men like an irate mother. Eventually, she sighed, looking defeated as her eyes once again shifted to Lance. ¡°Let us leave them to it.¡± She said, turning to face the body of Tolak, ¡°Honestly, they¡¯ve both seen nineteen winters but they still act half their age. Apparently boys don¡¯t become men until they reach their thirties, at least, that has been my experience.¡±


    ¡°For elven men it¡¯s when they reach their hundreds.¡± She laughed quietly, ¡°Truthfully though I¡¯m not sure men ever stop being boys, that hasn¡¯t been my experience.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Twindil asked as they finally reached the body.


    Lance struggled to maintain the sudden good humor she¡¯d felt at seeing Elum and Alistair argue, but seeing the splattered remains of Tolak¡¯s head dashed against the bridge made that difficult. Still though, she tried.


    ¡°...To be fair,¡± She said, prying her eyes away from the gory mess, ¡°Girls never really become women either, not until they reach their thousands.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah.¡± Twindil replied after a moment, kneeling by the wriggling chains. ¡°Their thousands, of course.¡± She said flatly, nodding.


    Lance felt her lips purse against her will, face growing hot with embarrassment, ¡°If they are an elf.¡± She clarified.


    ¡°All women that aren¡¯t elves are doomed to stay girls for their entire lives then?¡± Twindil asked with a laugh.


    ¡°Of course not!¡± Lance said sharply, ¡°It is relative to the race¡¯s total lifespan.¡±


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t argue with that.¡± She replied ,¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll need to grab both of the chains to properly identify; Afina willing I¡¯ll be able to determine if they bear the curse.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never fully learned how it is that you spellcasters identify such things, come to think of it.¡± Lance said, ¡°Would you mind clarifying?¡±


    ¡°No offense but¡­¡± Twindil started, hesitating, ¡°Aren¡¯t you over two-hundred? I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve had to have learned about this by now.¡±


    She giggled, waving a dismissive hand, ¡°You can live for two-hundred-thousand years and still not know everything there is to learn, forgive the ignorance of this wretched old hag, just this once.¡±


    ¡°My apologies, you do make a fair point¡­ I think.¡± Twindil said after another moment of brief hesitation, ¡°You see, a caster does not communicate with the object directly, there needs to be a sort of mediating party, usually in the form of an angel.¡±


    ¡°So Baomiel could tell us about the chains? Why not just call him over here?¡± Lance asked, ¡°It would spare you the effort of summoning one yourself.¡±


    ¡°It is not that simple.¡± She said, ¡°See, Baomiel isn¡¯t that type of angel. Most aren¡¯t visible or even have form, battle angels such as he are an exception to that rule.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Alistair said, he and Elum apparently finished with their spat, ¡°Baomiel doesn¡¯t reside in the Astral plane between Ahkoolis and the realm of the Pillars, he¡¯d be unable to tell us anything about it. You would need an angel that exists solely within the Astral realm, one that could force a temporary bond between itself and a magic item.¡±


    ¡°For Twindil,¡± Elum cut in, ¡°That would need to be an angel of Afina, as her magic exclusively draws Foundation through Afina¡¯s Pillar.¡±


    ¡°I think I understand.¡± Lance said, ¡°Now, if we find that the chains don¡¯t bear the curse, who will be the one to try and wield them first?¡± She asked, her eyes darting to the gently writhing chains.


    If she had something like that, he wouldn¡¯t call her useless again. No one would. But she couldn¡¯t bear the thought of degrading herself by proclaiming her want for them. She would be patient, and wait her turn.


    ¡°Me.¡± Elum said, gently jabbing a thumb into his chest, ¡°I know exactly the kind of spells that would work perfectly with animated chains. That, and they would add to my innate charm, enhance my ¡®freed devil¡¯ look.¡±


    ¡°Could you be any more foppish?¡± Alistair asked, ¡°¡®Freed devil¡¯ huh? Sounds like you really are that fruit you claim to be.¡±


    ¡°Coming from the one with daisy hair; now stand back and watch a master at work!¡± Elum declared, taking a step toward the body.


    ¡°Not yet!¡± Twindil shouted, ¡°I haven¡¯t even begun to identify, stay back until I¡¯m done.¡±


    The three then entered into further chatter as she looked back toward Hoplite, who now seemed to be speaking with Kid¡¯ka, Michael still at his side. She wondered what they could be talking about¡­ Likely Hoplite was asking Kid¡¯ka what exactly this ¡®Mouth of Zodd¡¯ was. She certainly hadn¡¯t heard about it. She looked away again, noting that the angel Baomiel was nowhere in sight. Neither was Theopalu for that matter, but the old codger was probably still sleeping in the wagon, no mystery there. No mystery for Baomiel either, Alistair could dismiss the being at will.


    She¡¯d need to try and talk to the angel when she found the time. Lance was sure that he would have some incredible stories to tell. An angel that served the Pillars couldn¡¯t possibly belt out anything boring, that was for sure.


    ¡°No curse.¡± Twindil said suddenly, drawing her attention once again.


    She needed to stop getting so lost in her own thoughts and start concentrating on the now, it was irritating to get constantly drawn out of her headspace. There was plenty of time for thought when everyone else was asleep. Twindil unhanded the chains, letting them flop back to the stone with a gentle clatter, to where they resumed their lazy wriggling.


    ¡°Alright good,¡± Elum said, rubbing his hands together, ¡°Let''s see if these things have some sense.¡±


    He took each chain in a hand, holding them aloft triumphantly for a minute straight, ¡°See, I have been chosen!¡± He declared, ¡°Now watch as I use these chains to throw Alistair into the Shot!¡±


    Alistair gripped his hammer, face tensing a moment before he released the grip.


    ¡°I¡¯m just joking¡­ these things don¡¯t seem to care for me much.¡± Elum said with a shrug, dropping them to the ground, ¡°Their loss honestly, they don¡¯t seem to realize how perfect we would be together.¡±


    ¡°Of course they wouldn¡¯t choose a fop.¡± Alistair said smirking, ¡°Watch this, Sir Forbidden Fruit.¡±


    With that, Alistair gripped the ends of the chains, holding them at hip-height while humming an unfamiliar tune. Another minute passed, then another, before Alistair frowned, gently letting the chains back down to the stone before crossing his arms with a huff.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s just not fun.¡± He said, scratching his chin, ¡°I¡¯m going to go see what Kid¡¯ka and the others are up to, see if any of them want a shot at claiming these for themselves. Could you imagine Hoplite with these things?¡± He asked.


    Lance paled at the thought. He was already the most dangerous warrior she¡¯d ever witnessed¡­ if he had these chains too, she doubted that anything would be able to stop him, well, except maybe Kazon, or the Dragon of the East. Perhaps she should let him try¡­ but that would only make his shadow even larger. No, she¡¯d be the one to try next¡­ besides, he may not even want to try and take them.


    She could imagine it now ¡®Negative, the magic will give me brain parasites and that would make this mission sub-optimal¡¯ something like that. That is, unless Twindil wanted to have a go?


    ¡°You were the one who took the time to identify them, you should have a try before me.¡± Lance said, urging the half-elf toward the chains.


    ¡°No, I am quite alright. I was planning on trying it last to tell the truth, chains¡­¡± She hesitated. ¡°Chains make me uncomfortable.¡±


    Lance understood¡­ Twindil had grown up as a half-elf in Umant of all places, she was lucky she¡¯d only been clasped in chains instead of being fully clipped. Curiosity nearly nudged her into asking an inappropriately personal question, so she suppressed it. Lance would not pry about Twindil¡¯s upbringing, not if it would hurt her to talk about it. If the paladin wished it, she would tell Lance, and she¡¯d leave it at that.


    ¡°Very well.¡± Lance said, taking a deep breath as she stared at the chains.


    For an instant they seemed as dangerous as vipers. What if Twindil had gotten a bad reading back from her angelic contact? Would she become cursed anyway? Had she even identified them properly? Lance hadn¡¯t seen any flashes of light or any form of chanting, Twindil had simply knelt down and held the chains for a minute, surely that couldn¡¯t be enough to determine if they were harmless¡­ Yet, she had no reason to distrust Twindil¡¯s judgment, she did not seem to type to let something like that slip past her.


    She¡¯d have faith in her friend¡­ and if she did end up cursed well¡­ Alistair could always summon the Golden Flame¡­ Pushing those dour thoughts from her mind, she gingerly reached down, hands grasping the surprisingly cold chains before she lifted them into the air. A minute passed of the chains gently wriggling in her grasp, then another, until finally she despaired that nothing felt different. Was there supposed to be something special that happened during a bonding?


    Lance was certain that there was, yet she felt¡­ nothing. Would she continue to be powerless for this journey? A hindrance to Hoplite and the others? Her teeth clenched, and she found her hands gripping the metal tightly.


    No.


    She¡¯d not hold this party back from their goals, even if these wretched things refused to bond to her.


    Lance would become powerful without them. Power would be hers.


    She went to throw the chains down to the stone, but found that¡­


    She found that they wouldn¡¯t come off.

 Chapter Fourteen: Silence

    Lance and the others left his side, approaching the downed form of Tolak with Elum, Alistair, and Twindil. Were they going to try and seize those chains after all? The advantages of having them might prove beneficial to the squad¡­ but it was risky to try and take something like that, what if it could spread the curse, or even worse, allow Kazon to directly control their minds? That would be sub-optimal to the completion of the mission. He thought of commanding them to leave the chains behind¡­ but they were not his subordinates, if they desired to take the chains, he would allow them to try. Yet, if his worries came to fruition¡­ well, if they became possessed then he would do what needed to be done.


    Then everyone would move on.


    Turning his attention away from those dire thoughts, he tilted his helmet toward Kid¡¯ka and asked, ¡°Halm is the Tongue of Zodd? What does that entail?¡±


    ¡°The Mouth of Zodd is supposed to be our contact with Zodd himself,¡± Kid¡¯ka explained, ¡°A chunk of his very Tongue is grafted to their flesh, usually within their chests.¡±


    That would explain the tumorous growth Hoplite had seen protruding from Halm¡¯s chest. A piece of a Pillar God¡¯s tongue¡­ How would inserting something like that provide a means to communicate with Zodd? He asked Kid¡¯ka this very question, to which the man simply shrugged in response.


    ¡°I dunno. Pillar magic?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked, ¡°I¡¯m not¡¯nt too sure- wait I meant uh-¡± He stuttered, ¡°I meant not too sure, sorry.¡±


    ¡°Man,¡± Michael sighed, ¡°Fella, you seriously gotta relax. I think ya¡¯d be better at talkin¡¯ if you weren¡¯t so stressed out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m n-not stressed.¡± Kid¡¯ka replied, ¡°I¡¯m completely clam- calm.¡± He corrected.


    ¡°Then what¡¯s yer issue? Are ya tweaking?¡± Michael asked, brow quirked.


    Hoplite¡¯s brow furrowed at the term ¡®tweaking¡¯. Did he mean that as in ¡®adjustment¡¯? What was Kid¡¯ka tweaking exactly, his speech? Kid¡¯ka didn¡¯t seem to know what the term meant either, for his face scrunched up in apparent perplexion.


    ¡°Nevermind. Just do you man.¡± Michael said with an urging gesture.


    ¡°Alrighty then.¡± Kid¡¯ka replied, ¡°The Tongue in Halm apparently hasn¡¯t completed its transfig-transformansion-Transformation.¡± He struggled.


    ¡°What would it transform into exactly?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°An extra organ?¡±


    ¡°N-no, apparently it will become some kind of jewelry that the Mouth can wear, but Ham- Halm, has had it for over two-hundred years and it still hasn¡¯t changed¡­¡± He said, his tone almost becoming wistful, ¡°I think it might have something to do with the curse.¡±


    Hoplite nodded, ¡°That makes sense, but if that¡¯s true there¡¯ll never be a Mouth again, not unless it¡¯s removed.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Kid¡¯ka said, firming his features, ¡°I¡¯ll talk to him about it the next time I see him.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He said, his attention drawn away to a sudden shout.


    Elum had apparently shrugged away from Twindil, and was looking seriously angered. Was he going to become aggressive? Was Kazon¡¯s influence piercing through Twindil¡¯s aura? Maybe not, she did say that her aura would only cancel out Kazon¡¯s magic, not that it would suppress normal emotions. His finger twitched toward the Fortis attached to his thigh-plate, a movement that only he himself was aware of. If Elum lashed out then Hoplite would have to shoot to kill, he had no non-lethal options at this range.


    If Elum wasn¡¯t so dangerous he wouldn¡¯t have considered killing him, but his magic could kill all those immediately surrounding him well before anything could be done about it. There was a chance that he could be brought back to sanity if he could be restrained¡­ but again, that would require serious risk to those adjacent to Elum. He wouldn¡¯t let Lance die like that.


    Nolvi wasn¡¯t far behind her, she could potentially incapacitate Elum as well, but again there was the risk that she wouldn¡¯t be fast enough to react.


    Thankfully though, his worries seemed to be unfounded, for Elum soon eased up and began to banter with Alistair. From what Hoplite could hear, he hadn¡¯t wanted his gray arm to be touched. Was it sensitive?


    ¡°What are they talking about sir?¡± Michael asked, biting his cheek.


    ¡°Elum didn¡¯t want his arm being touched.¡± Hoplite told him, ¡°And now he and Alistair are acting unprofessional.¡±


    Michael grimaced, ¡°I don¡¯t blame the guy, I wouldn¡¯t wanna touch that thing either. Should probably just cut the whole dang thing off, I think it''s spreading.¡±


    ¡°You can hear that far Hoplite?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked, ¡°I can barely even ear- sorry, hear them, much less understand what they¡¯re saying.¡±


    ¡°My ears are enhanced by bionics.¡± Hoplite replied.


    ¡°Is that some kind of magic from your world?¡± He asked, ¡°How do you cast bionics?¡±


    ¡°Naw man,¡± Michael laughed, ¡°It ain¡¯t magic it¡¯s uh¡­¡± He hesitated, ¡°It¡¯s robot stuff.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka merely stared blankly in reply, and didn¡¯t say anything. Was he trying to make out what the term ¡®robot¡¯ meant?


    ¡°Hmm, alright, he¡¯s got special metal in his ears what lets him hear better.¡± Michael said with a firm nod, ¡°Get it?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Kid¡¯ka said, nodding back, ¡°That makes sense, so magic metal.¡±


    ¡°...Yeah.¡± Michael replied with a sigh.


    ¡°Think of it more like living metal.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Rather than magical. There is no magic in our dimension.¡±


    ¡°Living metal?¡± Kid¡¯ka said in a clearly confused tone, ¡°No magic in your world? How can metal be alive if you have no magic? It dont¡¯nt make- it doesn¡¯t make sense!¡± He shouted suddenly, apparently frustrated.


    ¡°Magic don¡¯t make sense!¡± Michael shouted back.


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    Hoplite ignored their pointless argument, instead turning his attention back to what Lance and the others were doing. Alistair just set down the chains, apparently they had decided not to ¡®bond¡¯ with him. Having listened into their conversation from this distance, he surmised that the item had a particular type of person it would ¡®desire¡¯. A very strange process to say the least¡­ but his time on Ahkoolis has eroded his will to question such occurrences. He was unsure if he should be concerned about this or not, but before he could decide, he saw Lance move over to the chains.


    He almost ran over there to pull her away from them, but he felt that would be an unwise decision, for some reason. Twindil did say that they wouldn¡¯t transfer the curse, and Alistair¡¯s earlier claims corroborated this. Should he really allow Lance to take this risk though? What if Alistair and Twindil were wrong and Lance became infected? A pit then formed in his gut, worry eating down the back of his neck as emptiness began to fill him. He clenched his teeth and forced the pointless feelings from his mind as Lance finally lifted the chains, wrapping them around her forearms before lifting them into the air. Sunset bathed her dark form in an orange hue, the contrast nearly making her appear as a black pillar in the light.


    A few moments passed, with nothing seeming to happen while Lance stood there with the chains, her back to him. Eventually, she leaned down, trying to put the chains back to the stone¡­ but after a few shakes, it was clear that the metal links refused to be put back down. They had chosen their new master. Hoplite darted over as fast as he could, the cascade of his rapidly approaching footsteps causing Lance and the others nearby to jump in shock.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Hoplite asked quickly, ¡°Do you feel any symptoms, it hasn¡¯t been a full minute yet, we can still get them removed.¡±


    He had closed the distance between them by only a few seconds¡­ perhaps his sudden appearance by their side was what shocked them so?


    ¡°By the Pillars!¡± She shouted, nearly falling on her rear as he came upon her, ¡°Calm yourself, I feel fine!¡±


    The length of the chains stretched all the way to Tolak¡¯s arms, which seemed to be detaching themselves from the fallen Fiends limbs as they snaked their way toward Lance. His hand lashed out to seize them before they could fully wrap around her, but they evaded his grasp, their speed not at all diminished by Tolak¡¯s death.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine! Let them be!¡± Lance shouted, slapping at his shoulder plate, ¡°Really, I¡¯m okay!¡±


    He hesitated for a brief instant before complying with her request. Her skin wasn¡¯t purpling, spirals weren¡¯t etching themselves into her flesh¡­ it seemed as if all would be well. Yet this urge still persisted within him, he desired to remove these chains before they could fully attach to her. It wasn¡¯t because he wanted them for himself, that was for sure. Was he overreacting, and if so, why?


    He eased back, letting Lance stand to her feet as the chains continued to snake their way to her, rising and wrapping around her forearms in thick bundles. He held himself at the ready to remove them the instant Lance showed any symptoms of turning, but none came, at least, none that were obvious. Eventually, the chains completed their wrapping, completely coiled up around her forearms, leaving no slack. She held them close to her face, pursing her lips and scrunching her brow.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look glad.¡± Hoplite pointed out.


    ¡°I¡­¡± She started, ¡°I¡¯m just worried about why they chose me.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Twindil said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter, they¡¯re yours now. All that matters is what you intend to do with them. Are you planning to do evil?¡± She asked, putting her hands on her hips as she stared at Lance. When she didn¡¯t get an answer, she continued, ¡°I thought not. You certainly don¡¯t seem the type.¡±


    ¡°I just wanted-¡± She hesitated, the words dying on her tongue, ¡°I wanted to keep myself safe.¡±


    Those green eyes of hers shifted nervously as she said that¡­ wait, could it be possible that she had just lied?


    Twindil nodded, ¡°That could be it, self-preservation perhaps, it''s sensible, not something to feel guilty over. Don¡¯t think too hard on it or you may have a hard time sleeping-¡± Twindil stopped herself, ¡°Uh, I guess I mean next week, when you do actually have to sleep.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fresh for a long while yet,¡± Lance said with a mirthless laugh, ¡°I simply need to process this and¡­ well, I suppose I should take the time to learn how to use these.¡± She said, lifting her arms to display them. ¡°By the Pillars they¡¯re heavy.¡±


    ¡°Just because they¡¯re magic doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯ll be light as a feather.¡± Twindil said, ¡°You can probably mitigate it by unfurling them, they seem to be able to handle their own weight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just imagining how inconvenient these are going to make basic tasks.¡± She said, ¡°Climbing is going to be harder, hiding will be harder, everything¡¯s going to be more difficult.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯ll be more optimal for use on the field.¡± Hoplite stated, ¡°They¡¯re fast enough to block bullets, they should keep you relatively safe from now on.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Lance said flatly, ¡°Taking that into account, I don¡¯t want you telling me that I won¡¯t be useful ever again.¡±


    He blinked, that wasn¡¯t what he had said. He had just stated the clear fact that she wasn¡¯t needed for the conflict, that she wouldn¡¯t have changed anything. All she would have done was hinder him had she joined him in the fight against Tolak, and it was more than likely that she¡¯d have been cursed or killed. The others had all gathered around by now, all save for Baomiel and Theopalu of course. Should he clarify what he had actually said to her? It didn¡¯t seem like that would cause friction, he hadn¡¯t said she was useless.


    ¡°That isn¡¯t what I told you.¡± He said in his monotone, ¡°I said that you wouldn¡¯t have changed anything, because you wouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    Suddenly, everything fell silent. Twindil held a closed fist to her mouth, staring wide eyed at both he and Lance. Elum and Alistair both sucked air through their teeth, breaking the silence for a brief instant while Kid¡¯ka put a hand over his eyes. Nolvi, as always, didn¡¯t seem to react one way or another. Michael though, blew air out of his lips and shook his head, a tight grimace forming on his face. It appeared that had been the wrong thing to say¡­ but how? It was the truth! He felt the heat of frustration beginning to creep up his neck before he forced it back down, steadying his breath as he did so.


    Lance didn¡¯t say anything, simply pivoting on her heels and walking away, back towards the rest-stop. He blinked in surprise at this. He¡¯d expected biting retorts and shouting, not this. The silence continued until Lance finally disappeared into the tunnel, completely out of earshot.


    ¡°Sir.¡± Michael said, ¡°Permission to speak freely?¡±


    ¡°...Granted.¡± He said after a moment.


    ¡°Alrighty then¡­¡± He said before taking a deep breath, ¡°You hurt her feelings sir.¡±


    Hurt her feelings? How in Jyn¡¯s name did he hurt her feelings? It had been the simple truth he¡¯d given her, why did that make her so angry?


    Frustration began bubbling up again, the heat seeming to build up in his face, yearning for a release, but before he could shove it back down and reign it in with cold discipline, Twindil said in a tone bordering on scolding, ¡°You really need to learn to watch what you say, could you not have worded that more nicely?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for your opinion.¡± Hoplite said sharply, letting the fires of his frustration free, his helmet quickly tilting in her direction.


    ¡°I suppose you didn¡¯t. Good day.¡± Twindil replied flatly before she too took her leave, heading straight towards the rest-stop.


    Everyone else, save for Michael, followed after her, not turning to look at him as they went. The frustration continued to build as he watched them walk away, unsure as to how to proceed. Michael, strangely enough, looked increasingly uncomfortable, his feet shifting as his eyes apparently found something interesting in the sky. Even his own subordinate seemed to be wishing to be elsewhere, and this too added to the anger Hoplite felt. Yet, now that there was this moment of silence, he took that time to reign in his useless emotions.


    Once the heat of his anger cooled, he said, ¡°Go with them private. I¡¯m going to keep watch for a while.¡±


    ¡°...You sure, sir?¡± Michael asked, ¡°We could talk some more about uh, what just happened. If you want.¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite replied.


    He needed time alone to think about what had just happened, and Michael shouldn¡¯t stay out here as the sunlight receded. The others would be lighting up the interior of the rest-stop and he had his flashlight to keep the dark at bay.


    ¡°Copy that sir.¡± Michael replied, promptly jogging over to the tunnel right as Twindil entered.


    Once they were all out of sight, Hoplite¡¯s head hung back, staring at the orange sky as he thought. He hadn¡¯t expected her to react that way¡­ Yelling maybe, but complete and utter silence?


    For some strange reason, it unsettled him.

 Chapter 15: Kneel

    Twindil sighed as she rounded the corner into the tunnel. She saw Lance already far ahead of her, quickly moving right past the wagon and further into the darkness. She would likely need some time to herself to cool down, just as Hoplite did. It had been strange, and admittedly a tad bit terrifying to hear the Outworlder lose his temper that way. He was normally cold and stiff, almost like a statue that had become animate. To hear that heat in his voice was deeply unsettling, it wasn¡¯t the same as when they were on the wagon¡­ When he¡¯d shouted back then, she knew that it was due to Kazon¡¯s influence.


    With Twindil canceling out that vile magic, that meant that his anger had been genuine. She didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be offended by her mild scolding, at least, not to that level.


    ¡°So, are you angry with him too?¡± Alistair asked, quickly walking up beside her.


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Twindil said honestly, ¡°But I suspect Hoplite is the kind of man that needs space when he gets frustrated, so I didn¡¯t wish to stay.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense.¡± He replied, ¡°How long do you think he¡¯ll be out there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing only a few minutes,¡± She shrugged, ¡°But with him, who really knows?¡±


    ¡°Should we talk to Lance- or you I mean,¡± Alistair said, nodding towards the Watcher¡¯s retreating back, ¡°I don¡¯t think it''s a good idea to let that one stew.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m intrigued to see that you care.¡± Twindil replied, her tone genuine.


    Alistair frowned, ¡°This is a dangerous trip, we can¡¯t have the party tearing itself apart. Sure, they aren¡¯t really part of our group, but right now we¡¯re sticking together, and these kinds of fractures can¡¯t be left to worsen.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed,¡± Twindil said, again in an honest tone, ¡°I¡¯m happy to see this side of you.¡± She finished with a smile.


    Alistair¡¯s lips pulled into a tight line, ¡°I don¡¯t care, not in that way at least.¡± He explained, ¡°But it would be foolish to let this fester, best we resolve this as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s wise.¡± Elum said, pulling up beside them with a nod, ¡°Such a dire mood has a habit of spreading to others as well, imagine if all of us were behaving that way at the same time. We wouldn¡¯t have survived this long.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to b-be apaetic- apathetic,¡± Kid¡¯ka stuttered behind them, ¡°To people who¡¯ve had your back for years. Hoplite and Lance haven¡¯t known itsother- eachother, for nearly as long as I¡¯ve known you.¡±


    ¡°Dire moods can still spread, and keep in mind that the heat of anger can evaporate years of friendship if left to cook.¡± Nolvi commented in a passive tone from behind Kid¡¯ka.


    ¡°That might be the longest sentence I¡¯ve heard from you.¡± Alistair laughed, ¡°Special occasion?¡±


    After a long moment of silence, Alistair waved a dismissive hand, ¡°Guess we¡¯ll talk again next year¡­¡± He said with a mild grimace.


    Twindil and the others passed the wagon finally, and she saw that Lance had come to a complete stop at the far end of the chamber, her back to them. Twindil began walking faster, putting up a hand to dissuade the others from following after her. Once she was certain that the party was remaining by the wagon, she pulled up beside Lance, gently placing a hand on the Watcher¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Some people are very unaware of the effect their words can have on others,¡± Twindil explained, ¡°Him least of all it would seem.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t really his fault.¡± Lance said, her tone low, ¡°He¡¯s socially stunted.¡±


    ¡°His parents must have been the same way I¡¯m guessing, how a child is brought up significantly impacts how they interact with others.¡± She replied with a nod, ¡°Once he cools down I¡¯ll try and talk with him again-¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t raised by anyone except his world¡¯s military.¡± Lance explained, interrupting Twindil, ¡°He was taught that he was a tool, not a person. A tool doesn¡¯t care about how their words would affect others, it only cares about what it''s supposed to do.¡±


    Twindil paled at this revelation. Hoplite had been raised to think of himself not as a human being? How cruel did the other realm have to be in order to drain the life out of a child that way? A mote of hot fury began to build in her heart at the thought, but she quickly extinguished it. Anger could not be allowed to fester within her, not when she was trying to bring tranquility, it would taint the peace.


    ¡°He might say that he¡¯s little more than a tool, but that doesn¡¯t change what he really is. He is a man, no matter what he says.¡± Twindil said, firming her features, ¡°A tool doesn¡¯t have emotion, and the anger he displayed earlier is proof of that.¡±


    ¡°I heard that when I was walking away. He¡¯s been getting a lot less¡­¡± Lance hesitated, ¡°A lot less cold lately¡­ maybe that¡¯s why his words stung so much.¡± She paused for a long while, her face contorting into an intense grimace, ¡°No¡­ no. It hurt because it was true, it hurt because he was right, I¡¯m useless.¡±


    Twindil remained silent, but clasped her hand on Lance¡¯s shoulder, waiting patiently for her to go on.


    ¡°I¡¯ve always been good at my job, scaring off ruffians, reporting disturbances in the Faewood, but when it comes to important events, I fade into obscurity. There has been nothing great I have accomplished, I¡¯m the second best living Watcher from the Faewood, and yet I feel as if I¡¯ve done nothing to change-¡± her voice caught, ¡°to really change anything.¡± She finished, wiping tears away with her palm, the links of her chains clattering against one another with the motion. ¡°I¡¯m insignificant. Fire-Eyes knows it and Hoplite does too. They¡¯ve both laid it out plainly for me: I can¡¯t change anything.¡±


    Twindil remained silent for another moment, waiting for Lance to continue. When she did not, Twindil said gently, ¡°That isn¡¯t true.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re just trying to make me feel better. That¡¯s alright, but I can handle the truth. I couldn¡¯t make a dent in that horde earlier, not even hold my own like the rest of you. I¡¯m a¡­ a liability. Hoplite¡¯s just blunt enough to admit the truth when you''re too nice.¡± A sniff punctuated her breath as she lifted up her arms. ¡°I bet these chains felt sorry for me too. It¡¯s like Hoplite all over again, but nestled against my arms, weighing me down and reminding me that I can¡¯t do anything compared to everyone else without outside magic.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Twindil forced a sigh down. She¡¯d seen many a worshiper demean themselves for not being as tranquil as possible for Afina¡¯s sake, feeling worthless and unworthy of the faith. Hells, she¡¯d felt that way more than once. She kept her tone gentle and comforting, ¡°Not everyone in this party is meant to be a combat specialist.¡±


    ¡°But I should be, at least to stop from getting cursed-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not my point,¡± the paladin interjected, pausing on how to address the much-older elf, ¡°sweetheart, it¡¯s that your skills don¡¯t have to be only focused and valued by how many Fiends you can incapacitate.¡±


    Lance only shook her dark hair.


    ¡°If killing was the only metric we used, then healers would be just as much a liability as you think you are. No one would bother building Fikchon¡¯s house, and battle tactics would be measured in individuals cutting swaths through enemies. Does that sound like our world?¡±


    The elf heaved a sigh and narrowed her reddened eyes. ¡°I¡¯m no child, Twindil.¡±


    She bit her lip, realizing her mistake. ¡°Sorry, what I mean to say is that you have plenty of skills that the rest of us haven¡¯t had the opportunity to cultivate. You¡¯re a Watcher of the beautiful Faewood. I bet you know so much more about nature and tracking than anyone. And you¡¯ve had the years to specialize and branch out into aspects of Watcher-hood that have made you stand out in your group, right?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t change that every encounter we have from here on is a death sentence for me if I dare step out to help.¡± Lance replied, ¡°At least not until I learn how to use these chains.¡±


    ¡°Then find a way to help from behind the front lines,¡± Twindil offered. ¡°To be honest, I think you¡¯re being too hard on yourself. Our party has some advantages in combat that most don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± Lance looked up.


    The paladin cursed the near-slip. ¡°We¡¯ve been traveling across Ahkoolis for some time, fighting off powerful foes. In fact,¡± she paused to give her next words more weight, ¡°Kazon himself has been goading us into becoming strong enough to fight him.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡±


    Twindil raised her shoulders. ¡°We aren¡¯t sure why exactly us in particular,¡± she said vaguely, ¡°but he¡¯s taken something very precious from all of us. We¡¯ve had no choice but to become as strong and battle-hardened as quickly as possible to save what we love¡­ if it¡¯s not too late, that is.¡±


    Lance examined her closely.


    Twindil felt the weight and potential wisdom hiding in the older elf¡¯s eyes and backpedaled from the topic. ¡°This isn¡¯t about me and my party¡¯s woes. We¡¯ve had to bond together out of necessity and your situation is probably different. The point is that what you¡¯ve trained for isn¡¯t the place you find yourself in. You couldn¡¯t possibly have prepared for these drawbacks in close combat. But, I think you¡¯ve got what it takes to adapt and find a place in this group, as hard-headed as it is.¡±


    She attempted a small grin and chuckle to soothe the Watcher. ¡°I doubt that Hoplite would have let just anyone follow him around on such a cursed adventure. Even if he didn¡¯t say it outright, the fact that he didn¡¯t insist on you staying home means that he¡¯s seen you hold your own and wants your help, right?¡±


    Lance tilted her head back and forth with a shrug. She was distracted with the topic of Hoplite effectively, shutting down any further questions about Twindil or the rest¡¯s past. She was sure the topic of Kazon¡¯s interest in them would come up once more, but that was something that could be talked about another time. Twindil did not wish to speak of it now.


    ¡°Trust me, you¡¯re not useless to the party. We can find ways to make you stand out more, but it might not be in the way you¡¯re used to. Think about it, and we can all work together. Alright, Lancela?¡±


    The dark-haired elf fiddled with the chains around her arms again, quiet and solemn. After a few moments, she said, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll think about it. Though, with these,¡± She continued, lifting her chained arms, ¡°I might be able to remain in my comfort zone, at least when it comes to battle.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± the paladin smiled. ¡°If you want to give that chunk of metal a good talking to, you¡¯ll have everyone¡¯s support.¡±


    Well, perhaps she¡¯d not have Michael¡¯s support, or Nolvi¡¯s, or Alistair¡¯s or- Twindil blinked. They didn¡¯t seem the type to get too involved with personal drama¡­ but Lance would at least have her support.


    She breathed out an amused sound. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m too run down right now. I¡¯ll talk to him tomorrow maybe, when we¡¯ve both had a chance to calm ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Wise.¡± Twindil replied with a nod, ¡°Alright, now we should be figuring out how these chains of yours work¡­ unless you aren¡¯t up to it?¡±


    Lance smiled, ¡°Of course I am, I don¡¯t need to sleep tonight so I¡¯ll have plenty of time to learn.¡±


    ¡°I might be able to help too, I¡¯m not a full-blooded elf but I feel that I¡¯m able to stay up until midnight at least.¡± She said, again nodding, ¡°I¡¯ve spoken with plenty of people who¡¯ve performed the bonding, and they¡¯ve explained to me how they get their items to function.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate it, truly but¡­¡± Lance paused, ¡°I was wondering if you could perhaps check on Hoplite? See if you can¡¯t get him to come inside? It''s about time for him to sleep I think.¡±


    Twindil smiled, ¡°Certainly, I¡¯m sure that he will have calmed down by now. I¡¯m surprised that you would worry over him after what just happened.¡±


    Lance shrugged, ¡°Just because we had a little spat doesn¡¯t mean he shouldn¡¯t get sleep, I¡¯d go out there and tell him to do it myself but¡­ but I still want some time on my own.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± Twindil said with a nod, ¡°I¡¯m off, if you decide you want help with your chains just let me know.¡±


    With that, Twindil turned on her heel walking back toward the entrance of the tunnel. She passed the rest of the party, including Michael, on the way back. Alistair and he seemed to be leading the talk, each asking about one another''s methods during the battle. Their tones seemed awed and complimentary, and this pleased her. Those two may become good friends if they maintained decent rapport, at least she thought so. As she passed them, the Outworlder made a comment about Hoplite needing more time to himself, but Twindil felt that he had likely cooled off already. He didn¡¯t seem the type to remain angry for long periods of time. Twindil did tell Michael that she would return if Hoplite was still upset, and this seemed to satisfy him, for he drifted back into conversation with ease.


    She rounded the corner, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. How did she bring tranquility to a man who didn¡¯t think he was one? If what Lance said was accurate, then he only viewed himself the same way as she viewed a bucket, or a wrench. Could she convince him that he wasn¡¯t the tool he thought he was? It sounded as if some intensive indoctrination had taken place when he was a child, chipping away at such a worldview would be much like mining a mountain with a toothpick. Hoplite saw his existence through a very thick lens; a lens that never bent nor smudged¡­ at least, not without outside help. She knew it to be so¡­ for she understood exactly what it was like to see things through that very same lens.


    She¡¯d not try and break that lens today, it was far too soon and this was an inappropriate time. Twindil would just do what Lance had asked of her and bring the man inside for rest. Now that she thought of it, it had been a few days since he had last slept- she rounded the corner - It was absolutely unhealthy to-


    Twindil gasped in shock as standing there, next to Hoplite, was a towering silvery man clad in the most ornate plate mail she had ever seen. He towered over the Outworlder by at least two heads, with snow-white hair as long as she was tall draping down over his long silvery cape. Who was this man, and why was he talking with Hoplite?


    ¡°So, that is your answer?¡± The man asked, his angelic voice reaching her ears just barely.


    ¡°Leave.¡± She heard Hoplite order in a sharp tone, ¡°You won¡¯t speak of my Lord that way, if you stay, I will be forced to neutralize you.¡±


    The stranger laughed then, a hearty amused sound that echoed across the bridge.


    ¡°If you deny such a lineage, then you will show me proof, remove your helmet for me.¡± The man ordered in a tone that expected compliance, ¡°I have no more time for this, boy.¡±


    Surprisingly, Hoplite¡¯s hands reached up toward his helmet, but as they were just about to remove them, they froze. The Outworlders hands began shaking before they lowered, almost as if they were being forced back down.


    The stranger then gave an irritated sound, ¡°That is almost proof enough for me as it is¡­ but this still does not satisfy me¡­ I command thee kneel!¡±


    And Hoplite fell to his knees.

 Chapter Sixteen: The Dragon of The East

    Hoplite¡¯s face remained blank as his mind toiled to understand what he had done to upset Lance. Any living thing with a frontal lobe would have been able to see that she would have been a liability to him had she stayed¡­ His focus would have been split between protecting her and defeating Tolak, and he wasn¡¯t sure that he would¡¯ve been able to keep her safe amongst the horde. There had been so many Fiends, an army of bodies that would have crushed her flat had he not told her the reality of the situation.


    Twindil had mentioned that he could have worded it more nicely, but there simply hadn¡¯t been enough time for that. Could he have said it would be safer for everybody if they went into the tunnel together, rather than singling out Lance and Michael? His mentality at the time had been to let Twindil¡¯s party do as they wished, their magic would have aided in controlling the crowds, it was risky of course but they had proven capable of repelling such odds before. Alistair''s Golden Flame, Elum¡¯s acid, Nolvi¡¯s eyes, not to mention Twindil and Kid¡¯ka¡¯s nigh-superhuman capabilities would have proved useful, but not Lance or even Michael, in that particular scenario. All the ammunition had been back on the wagon, and the marine would have quickly ran out of the ammo on his person.


    He had been instrumental in repelling the Fiends once he¡¯d actually returned to the wagon and had access to the munitions stored there, but out in the open he would have been infected for sure. Still, he would have managed to hold his own outside the tunnel, at least for a while before having to retreat, but Lance?


    She was an excellent warrior, but she wouldn¡¯t have been able to last had she gotten separated in the chaos. He hadn¡¯t wanted her to die or become infected, so he had told her the truth¡­ and somehow, that hurt her, badly. Hoplite was completely in the right, his understanding of what would have happened was based on a dozen lifetime''s worth of combat experience¡­ He knew that blood was red, he knew that grass was green, he knew that she¡¯d have died had he not sent her away¡­ and yet, he still felt like he was¡­ wrong, somehow.


    It frustrated him to no end. Just a short while ago he¡¯d not have given this subject any thought, he¡¯d just move on. Something has changed, he was not acting normally. He knew he wasn¡¯t, he hadn¡¯t been behaving right since he decided to imbibe alcohol at that celebration¡­ maybe even before that. Yet, as he thought on this, his thoughts turned back to Theopalu. Whatever his condition, somehow Hoplite knew that his thawing was being accelerated by the elder elf¡¯s presence. He hated that wretched creature with every fiber of his being, and still he knew not why.


    Was it his uncaring laid back attitude? No, that couldn¡¯t be it. Hoplite had met several soldiers with similar disposition, and he¡¯d only been annoyed by them then. This was a hatred that threatened to scorch him from the inside out every time he laid eyes on that damn elf. Could he convince the others to leave Theopalu behind, maybe send him back to the Faewood for the rest of this trip?


    He was a liability, all he did was eat and sleep, and his caloric intake was far greater than anyone else¡¯s, even Hoplite himself didn¡¯t eat as much as Theopalu did. If they kept him on like this, he¡¯d devour all their supplies before they could accomplish their respective goals. His apparent ¡®uses¡¯ were not worth starving to death or becoming infected. Yet, what if they refused to send him away? What if they insisted upon keeping that idler around until he sucked up every scrap of food they had?


    His face then became grim, his fists clenching as he looked away from the sky, instead staring at the mouth of the tunnel where that freak resided. He hadn¡¯t even helped with the fighting, he just slept in the wagon like a useless sack of knife-eared dung. He didn¡¯t really need to ask for the squad¡¯s consent¡­ right? Surely they would understand why Theopalu needed to be neutralized¡­ right?


    Hoplite could simply opt to not inform them of the deed, it would cause fissures that may lead to separation or conflict. As for Theopalu¡­ all it would take was a quick squeeze, and the bastard¡¯s neck would snap. After that, he could dispose of the corpse by tossing it over the side of the bridge. No one would be able to find the body, leaving the others to speculate that he¡¯d abandoned them. Yes, it was all coming together now-


    Hoplite blinked, his head shaking slightly as he came to his senses. Had he just plotted a murder? It wasn¡¯t as if he hadn¡¯t killed anyone before, at the order of the Eighth Arm he had been set upon humanities enemies within, though it had been rare for them to call on Thirty-Seven for that task. Even then, he had never planned out the deed himself¡­ the orders on who to kill and how to do it were always passed down to him by command, as assassination wasn¡¯t his field of expertise. Hoplite Twenty-One had been suited to that task, he was a precise killer, a sharp blade used to slice throats in the dark, but Thirty-Seven? He was a hammer, sent in with heavy gear to smash the enemy''s lines to pieces. If he were to carry out his plot to kill Theopalu, he¡¯d likely be exposed somehow¡­


    He felt a pit forming in his stomach as he thought about how Lance would react. She seemed to care for Theopalu, though he knew not why. They had presumably worked together for centuries, he supposed that some sort of rapport would have formed during that time. If Hoplite took that geriatric elf away from her, she¡¯d be devastated. The pit in his gut grew as he imagined her grief, and again he found himself shaking his head to clear away the images flashing in his mind, to wash away the imaginings of tearful accusations and demands to know ¡®why¡¯.


    The images were so vivid, so real that he found himself readying an explanation, though there were none to hear it had he done so. This was ridiculous, Theopalu was not dead and these scenarios playing out in his head were pointless. Despite that they seemed to widen that pit in his gut, and he found himself almost retching at the sudden nausea he felt. He felt oh so very wrong¡­ had he been infected after all? Was he becoming a Fiend?


    No, that was impossible, he¡¯d not been injured during the fighting whatsoever, and it had been several minutes since the battle had ended. He couldn¡¯t be infected¡­ meaning that what he felt now, opening a hole in his midsection¡­ was guilt.


    It felt horrible.


    Before he could reason himself back into feeling normal, a form materialized behind him. Hoplite gasped, turning with wide eyes at the towering being. Wearing silvery plate armor, with long white hair that blended in with the cape worn about his neck, stood Lord Jyn! His mouth struggled for a brief instant before he caught himself. This was not his Lord¡­ this was someone or something else.


    This lookalike had the same stone-carved  stern features, the same golden eyes, the same nigh-overwhelming presence¡­ but his hair was wrong, white instead of red, long instead of short. There were no scars on this stranger''s face, whereas Lord Jyn had accrued several. His armor, while just as ornate, was primitive compared to Lord Jyn¡¯s power armor. The two shared a passing resemblance¡­ nothing more.


    How had he snuck up on Hoplite? The man had been invisible, but Hoplite¡¯s motion tracker should have been able to detect him approaching. Perhaps he hadn¡¯t approached, maybe he had teleported, as Hoplite himself once had when he¡¯d first met the Harkhall. He drew the Fortis, aiming it squarely at the interloper''s head.


    ¡°Identify.¡± Hoplite demanded sharply, finger lightly brushing the trigger.


    ¡°Put your weapon down¡­¡± The silvery figure commanded, his voice almost a whisper.


    Hoplite¡¯s hand shook at the order, seeming to try and comply against his will. His teeth clenched, keeping the gun raised through sheer effort. It was as if a hand of iron had clutched his wrist, threatening to pin it down by his side should he relent for even an instant. It took everything he had to merely disobey the strangers command.


    ¡°Now!¡± The stranger yelled, forcing Hoplite¡¯s wrist to finally buckle.


    Hoplite stared with his jaw agape as his hand worked against his will, magnetizing the Fortis to his thigh despite his efforts to resist. What kind of magic was this that could force him to another''s will? He fought it again, trying to reach for the Fortis with struggling fingers. It was like a thousand pounds of weight had been tied to each of his fingers, getting them to budge seemed nigh-impossible.


    ¡°I, am Legolanthas, The Dragon of The East.¡± He said, his deep cadence lending weight to the title, ¡°And apologies young man, I did not wish it to come to this, but I simply must know of your lineage. Simply observing you has not given me the evidence I desire. Who is your father?¡±


    The question nearly caused Hoplite to force out an answer, but he kept his jaw clenched and mouth sealed. His hands shook with the effort, but he held fast. The Dragon of The East? He had heard of this man at Muro¡¯s death-day celebration, apparently the recently deceased Watcher had survived meeting with him¡­ having been subjected to the Dragon¡¯s will, Hoplite now understood why this feat was considered impressive.


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    He¡¯d always thought it was because Legolanthas was supposed to be a classic Dragon of legend, a giant fire-breathing lizard that horded treasure¡­ yet now that that very same Dragon was here, Hoplite could see that it was more a title than anything else. While massive, Legolanthas appeared to be human, at least on the surface. His biology clearly differed from standard human genetics, was his massive stature the result of magical gene tampering? Or was he a member of a species that merely resembled humans?


    Legolanthas seemed amused at his resistance for a brief instant before his familiar features hardened, ¡°Your father, who is he.¡± The Dragon ordered, his intense golden gaze boring into Hoplite¡¯s helmet.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Hoplite replied honestly, hoping his answer pleased the Dragon.


    He cursed himself at the emotion. How dare he desire to please this creature? Legolanthas needed to be put down, quickly. His fist snapped forth at a blinding speed, intending to catch the hostile in the nose. Instead, his fist was batted away with an almost lazy hand, the clang of Adium on steel echoing across the bridge. Hoplite reeled from the shock, both from the force that had traveled up his shoulder and the fact that he¡¯d been deflected.


    ¡°Do not dare to try and lay hand on me again.¡± Legolanthas warned, his tone dripping with menace, ¡°If you do not know your father, then I will ask this: Who reigns over Earth?¡±


    Earth? He knew the name of the homeworld?


    ¡°Who reigns?¡± Legolanthas asked again, more intensely.


    ¡°The Lord of humanity and her colonies.¡± Hoplite told him, his voice shaking with rage, ¡°Lord Jyn!¡±


    ¡°Jyn?¡± Legolanthas asked, his brow furrowing. The Dragon seemed perplexed by the name. ¡°Jyn¡­ Jyn¡­¡± He began muttering, ¡°That is not the name I thought he would go by, if this Jyn is who I think he is.¡±


    Hoplite growled at how easily this creature disregarded his Lord¡¯s title, hot hatred bubbling up within him the more Legolanthas spoke. It wasn¡¯t the same type of hate he felt for Theopalu¡­ no, this was something different. The more he stared at this insufferable stranger, the more he wanted to be better than him. Hoplite desired to trump this ¡®Dragon¡¯ in every way shape and form and would not be satisfied until Legolanthas knew his place.


    ¡°I believe that your ¡®Lord¡¯,¡± Legolanthas said with clear disdain, ¡°Is one of my kind, an outcast banished from this realm to yours. Is this Jyn a Dragon?¡±


    Hoplites features twisted into that of a snarling beast at the mutant¡¯s accusation. His skin went cold, his teeth bared, fists clenched as he attempted to will himself forth to crush Legolanthas¡¯s wretched throat. How dare he accuse the pinnacle of man of being not of humanity? Hoplite Twenty-Five¡¯s claims flashed through his mind for a brief instant before he stowed them back away. He¡¯d not acknowledge those accusations, he would not, he could not¡­ or he would be re-indoctrinated. He would not, could not let that happen again!


    ¡°No, Lord Jyn is a man!¡± Hoplite shouted desperately, his voice unsteady.


    Legolanthas crossed his arms, not saying anything in response as Hoplite collected himself. A whirlwind of emotions raged through him, rage, doubt, fear, all coalescing together and threatening to shatter his psyche with their intensity. He stilled his shuddering breaths, summoning up his discipline to reign in the wild feelings. It felt as if he were trying to uproot the Ilum tree with his bare hands, but eventually, the worthless emotions were subjugated to his will.


    Legolanthas stood, straight back and tone steeled, ¡°So, that is your answer?¡± He asked, frowning.


    ¡°Leave.¡± Hoplite ordered in a sharp tone, ¡°You won¡¯t speak of my Lord that way, if you stay, I will be forced to neutralize you.¡±


    The Dragon laughed then, a hearty amused sound that echoed across the Greatbridge.


    ¡°If you deny such a lineage, then you will show me proof, remove your helmet for me.¡± The man ordered in a tone that expected compliance, ¡°I have no more time for this, boy.¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s hands reached up toward his helmet, again yielding to Legolanthas¡­ but as they were just about to remove his helmet, his will became steel. His hands began shaking again as he fought to lower them back to his sides, lowering them with an audible grunt.


    The Dragon then gave an irritated sound, ¡°That is almost proof enough for me as it is¡­ but this still does not satisfy me¡­ I command thee kneel!¡±


    And Hoplite fell to his knees, snarling as his body betrayed him.


    Legolanthas drew close, leaning down to stare into his soul. ¡°Remove. Your. Helmet.¡± He commanded again, his eyes now glowing gold.


    Wispy tendrils of this glow emanated from not only the Dragon¡¯s eyes, but his very mouth, the ethereal light looking almost like fire. Hoplite relented, his eyes wide and face frozen in a snarl. He bumped his chin, undoing the clasp that kept the helmet sealed to the rest of the suit before removing it, holding it at chest height as Legolanthas stared at him, glowing eyes searching.


    ¡°The eyes are gold¡­¡± The creature muttered, ¡°Yet that alone is not enough.¡± Using his thumbnail, he carved a bleeding trail across Hoplite¡¯s cheek, the hot blood pouring down his skin and onto the Dragon¡¯s hand.


    Legolanthas cursed, quickly stepping back as the glow in his eyes vanished, ¡°Damn it all! It¡¯s true!¡±


    ¡°Step away from him now!¡± A voice shouted.


    Hoplite turned his head to see Twindil, standing there with blade drawn, charging toward Legolanthas with a fiery glare. The Dragon turned his head to regard her, his face clearly expressing contempt.


    ¡°Wretched creature, begone!¡± Legolanthas shouted, raising his hand toward Twindil palm-first. Another glow then shone from his hand, a deep crimson orb of light that grew larger with each passing second.


    With the power of that gaze removed from him, Hoplite roared, quickly rising to his feet and dropping his helmet. Legolanthas turned too late as Hoplite¡¯s fist met his chin, knocking it skyward with a sickening crunch. The glow in his hand faded, and Hoplite rammed his shoulder into his chestplate. Somehow Legolanthas managed to remain standing, but was still sent sliding back across the stone, the sound of steel scraping rock loud in his ears.


    Legolanthas stood straight-backed once more, jaw hanging uselessly for only an instant before it reformed, a hand cradling his chin as his mouth worked. The damage had seemingly regenerated¡­ but that was fine. If his healing factor worked like Hoplite¡¯s did, then all he needed to do was overwhelm it until the Dragon became a husk. If he went into a state similar to that of going Wendigo however¡­ that may make this more difficult.


    Twindil¡¯s charge slowed as she neared, circling behind the Dragon with her blade at the ready. He wanted to tell her to flee, to tell her that this monster was too much for her to handle¡­ but even more than that, Hoplite wanted to express his hate.


    ¡°I will crush your head, Dragonling, and wear it about my neck for your wretched father to see!¡± Legolanthas shouted, eyes aglow once more.


    Hoplite¡¯s teeth clenched, his eyes going wide as the world began to take a crimson tint, ¡°Shut your dirty mutant mouth!¡± He shouted, his voice ragged yet booming, ¡°I¡¯ll rip out your eyes and feed them to you!¡±


    Just as he and Legolanthas were about to charge one another however¡­ a man materialized between them, causing Legolanthas to flinch back. This new stranger wore ratty brown clothing, with equally disheveled bushy brown hair that covered his head and face. Despite his entrance, he appeared to be a standard human¡­ So why did Legolanthas stare at him like he was a viper?


    ¡°Come on now,¡± The stranger said in a jovial tone, ¡°Family reunions are supposed to be heartwarming¡­ though, I do suppose they can turn ugly too, now that I think of it.¡± His head then turned back toward the mouth of the rest stop then, a small knowing smile on his lips, ¡°Probably would be ugly, now that I think of it¡­¡± He muttered, seeming to zone out.


    ¡°Mind your business, Mazeek!¡± Legolanthas spat, ¡°This foul pupae has challenged me, this is now between Dragons, you cannot interfere, begone!¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t though.¡± Mazeek said with a casual shrug, ¡°Technically he just threatened you, he didn¡¯t challenge you, there is a difference.¡±


    ¡°He struck me.¡± The Dragon growled, ¡°That alone is grounds enough for-¡±


    ¡°You forced your will on him,¡± Mazeek said sharply, cutting him off, ¡°I would say that was a fair reaction to what you did. Besides, it doesn¡¯t matter, I won¡¯t let you kill him here.¡±


    ¡°You would stand in my way?¡± The Dragon asked, face becoming stone.


    ¡°Yes, would you like to challenge me instead?¡± Mazeek asked, smiling gently.


    Legolanthas said nothing, instead refocusing his gaze on Hoplite, ¡°We will meet again, Dragonling. If you know what is best, you will stay in the dirt with all the other worms that are beneath my notice. ¡°


    Hoplite said nothing, opting to simply glare into the mutant''s eyes. There was a palpable tension there, something besides hatred now, something he had felt back when he¡¯d began training as a Hoplite¡­


    Rivalry.


    ¡°I now know what I had feared,¡± Legolanthas said, ¡°The Banished Child has returned to wreak vengeance on the Pillars¡­ I must prepare.¡±


    Without breaking eye-contact, the Dragon flourished his flowing white cape¡­ and disappeared from sight. Hoplite¡¯s head whipped this way and that, trying to catch a glimpse of where he could have went. He couldn¡¯t let Legolanthas ambush him! Where would he attack from, behind, above-


    ¡°He is gone now,¡± Mazeek said with a sigh, ¡°Honestly, what a bother, he¡¯s over two-thousand and still he behaves like a two-hundred year old!¡± He chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I am Mazeek, and I¡¯m afraid that I can¡¯t be staying for tea, I only intervened due to my brother¡¯s foolishness. He lacks subtlety in such matters, especially when he loses patience.¡±


    ¡°Your brother?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°Are you a Dragon too?¡±


    ¡°No Hoplite,¡± Twindil said, her hands shaking as she held her blade, ¡°He is-¡± She stuttered, ¡°He is the Unbound- the god with no Pillar.¡± She finished, her voice becoming hoarse.

 Chapter Seventeen: Thirty Seconds in The Chair

    The Unbound¡­ Hoplite had learned about him from the Lore-Keeper, Mangwin, during their long talk at Muro¡¯s death-day. A being that wielded the power of the Pillar Gods with none of their limitations¡­ Mazeek had been described as being the most dangerous creature on Ahkoolis. Seeing him now, Hoplite could hardly bring himself to see him as a severe threat. Yet he knew that looks could be deceiving¡­ and the Dragon himself had seemed eager to avoid conflict with him. That fact alone lent legitimacy to Twindil¡¯s claim.


    Hoplite dearly hoped that his shaking breaths were inaudible, that the Unbound would hopefully be unable to sense his emotional state. The horrid things Legolanthas had claimed matched with much of what Hoplite Twenty-Five had told him years ago¡­ it unsettled and¡­ and it frightened him. His brain felt like hot static, a torrent of enraged and worried thoughts waging a war within him that distracted from all else. He¡¯d need time to cool down, to process things¡­ but before that, he¡¯d need to deal with Mazeek.


    And to do that, Hoplite would need to proceed with the utmost caution.


    ¡°You made quite a mess out here¡­¡± The Unbound yawned, gesturing to the chaotic jumble of twitching bodies around them, ¡°Not very scenic, is it?¡±


    Mazeek then waved his hand, and in that very instant every single body, jutting bone, or scrap of flesh was immolated in Golden Flame. The yellow glow underlit his smiling face, crooked teeth on full display as he stared at the brilliant fire.  In a couple heartbeats, not even a single scrap of blood remained from the battle. For an instant, Hoplite imagined himself being immolated in that fire, disintegrated until nothing remained, not even ash.


    ¡°Apologies children, but it is time for my fifth nap, and I wouldn¡¯t miss it for the world.¡± Mazeek continued, wiping his hands on his ragged clothes, ¡°Meeting extended family is always exhausting as it is interesting¡­¡± He said smiling, turning to shoot a knowing look at Twindil, ¡°Very interesting indeed.¡±


    Twindil paled at those words, eyes somehow becoming wider than they already were. Hoplite stare switched between Twindil and the Unbound, his brow furrowing. What did he mean by that?


    ¡°Goodnight!¡± He yelled, vanishing, ¡°You won¡¯t be seeing me again for a long while¡­¡± Mazeek¡¯s voice echoed, coming from seemingly everywhere, ¡°The fifth nap is always the longest.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Hoplite shouted, ¡°Come back!¡±


    ¡°Sleepy.¡± The voice echoed back after a long yawn.


    Hoplite swiped his helmet from the stones, donning it quickly to check his motion tracker. If he could find out where Mazeek had gone, he¡¯d be able to question him about nearly everything he could think of -Kazon¡¯s exact location, the whereabouts of the Sparrow¡¯s crew, the best path through Akan-Var, amongst other things. He was supposedly a god, or at least close to the definition of it, the potential intel that could be gleaned from the Unbound was priceless.


    Yet, when he checked his motion tracker, there was nothing to be seen, nothing besides Twindil¡¯s stationary blip. He bumped his chin, turning the world around him infrared, yet no sign of Mazeek could be found. The only other body temperature present was again, Twindil¡¯s. Frustration heated his face as he bumped the infrared off, turning to face her.


    She seemed to flinch at his gaze, but firmed herself, sheathing her blade before clutching her quivering arms. The half-elf was shaking slightly, biting her bottom lip as she stared to where Mazeek had stood. Right as he was about to speak, he saw the squad moving out of the tunnel, shouting questions at them as they all ran to meet them. Her interrogation would have to wait for now¡­ but it would need to be done eventually.


    Once the squad reached them, a barrage of questioning was fired point-blank at both he and Twindil, asking as to what happened to the bodies. They made mention of the fact that the Golden Flame had been used, but none knew who had summoned it. Alistair in particular seemed flabbergasted at how it had been used, saying that one would have to be a God to have utilized raw Foundation to that level.


    ¡°That¡¯s because it was.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Mazeek was here just now, along with a hostile Dragon.¡±


    All fell silent after that statement, Lance and Nolvi shaking their heads in apparent denial. After a moment of strained silence, Lance began staring at Hoplite with a very intent gaze, seeming to try and decide whether or not he was speaking truthfully, based on that furrowed glare.


    ¡°An attempt at a joke,¡± Alistair said, ¡°The Unbound and a Dragon? Why not throw in Zodd as well, make a pantheonic tea party¡± He finished with a shake of his head.


    Hoplite was not surprised at the skepticism, he too would have doubted such a claim if he hadn¡¯t just witnessed it with his own eyes.


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    ¡°Hoplite doesn¡¯t know what a joke is.¡± Lance said with a small huff, crossing her arms and breaking eye contact, ¡°He must mean it¡­¡± She continued, a slight quaver in her tone.


    Her face went pale, the chains on her forearms rattling gently as she clutched her own arms.


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe, but it''s true.¡± Twindil said with a firm nod, ¡°Both were here, both had an overwhelming presence¡­ I was¡­¡± She hesitated, ¡°I was scared for my life.¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Michael said loudly over the resulting mutters, ¡°What the hell does any of that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means trouble.¡± Hoplite answered, ¡°Mazeek is part of the local pantheon, I know that much. As for the Dragon, I¡¯m unsure.¡±


    ¡°I know this much,¡± Elum started, clutching his graying arm nervously, ¡°There¡¯s only one Dragon of Decuma, and that¡¯s Legolanthas of the East. He¡¯s the son of Darax, the Pillar-God of War, and Saihara, the Pillar-Goddess of Knowledge.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a Godling?¡± Hoplite asked, keeping his voice monotone despite the fear and anger that still raged within him.


    Elum hesitated, eyes flicking to Twindil for an instant before he said, ¡°...No, a Godling, at least from what I understand, is the child of two mortal parents, blessed¡­ or perhaps I should say, cursed by a Pillar-God immediately after they¡¯re conceived with their divine blood. A third parent, you could say. A Dragon on the other hand is the child of two Gods, not bound to the Pillars and born ¡®mortal¡¯ as a result.¡± He said with a scoff, ¡°At least, mortal in the sense that they can be killed, unlike a Pillar-God.¡±


    This new intel did not ease Hoplite¡¯s paranoia. Again Twenty-Five¡¯s words replayed in his mind¡­ echoing what Legolanthas had claimed earlier.


    ¡°Why would a man be able to do the things Jyn does?¡±


    ¡°I just don¡¯t understand what Legolanthas would be doing here of all places.¡± Elum continued with a shake of his head, ¡°It doesn¡¯t make any sense, he rarely leaves Estanlia for any reason.¡±


    ¡°Men are not immortal, not even us. Humans can¡¯t fly, they can¡¯t make things move with their minds, they can¡¯t survive the vacuum of space without specialized gear.¡±


    He tried to dam the flow of words, to deny them completion-


    ¡°He must have had a very good reason,¡± Alistair said, ¡°Perhaps he wanted to challenge the Unbound and this just so happened to be where he was? A strange, horrifying coincidence that you two had to experience that.¡±


    But it was a fruitless effort-


    ¡°You¡¯ve always been the most logical of us all Jason, always overthinking, overanalyzing¡­ so you should know these things just as well as I do.¡±


    ¡°Shut up¡­¡± Hoplite mouthed, resisting the urge to clutch at his helmet, ¡°Shut up.¡±


    ¡°I just hope that¡­¡± Twindil started, her voice hitching, ¡°I hope we never run into them again.¡±


    ¡°Not only that, but I did a fair bit of research¡­ I snuck into the labs where we were infused with Final Kind DNA, and you know what else I found?¡±


    ¡°Please¡­ stop.¡± Hoplite whispered, his fists clenching.


    Everyone else¡¯s words faded into the background as Twenty-Five continued¡­


    ¡°I found several tubes containing blood, Jyn¡¯s very own blood in fact, they never told us that part, that we were also infused with his DNA¡­ The tubes were hot to the touch, the blood was orange like magma, like our own¡­ and you know what I found out when I studied these samples for myself?¡±


    Hoplite clutched the sides of his helmet, pulling it free and letting it clatter down to the bridge as he began to heave. The conversations ceased as all eyes fell on him, with Michael putting a hand on his back-plate. He said something, likely a question asking if he was alright¡­ but Hoplite couldn¡¯t answer him.


    ¡°There wasn¡¯t a trace of human DNA in those samples, Jason. Not a single drop to be found anywhere, and trust me, I looked very hard. I wanted to be wrong¡­ but the rebels weren¡¯t lying. You know what this means right?¡±


    Hoplite fell to his hands and knees, a pillar crashing down to the earth as his stomach emptied itself onto the cold setstone. Voices began shouting around him, but he couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying, the world was beginning to go dark at the corners of his vision.


    ¡°Lord Jyn isn¡¯t human.¡±


    Memories of his re-indoctrination flashed in a moment that felt like eternity¡­ Strapped to a chair. A mere thirty seconds had passed to any outside observer, but every second had felt like a decade, three hundred years trapped in a chair¡­ He couldn¡¯t do it again, he wouldn¡¯t, Hoplite would rather be dead! He was loyal!


    He was! Hoplite didn¡¯t need to go back to the chair! He staggered back to his feet, fending off the hands that tried to aid his rise. Shakily, he grabbed his helmet, not putting it back on as he limped back toward the rest stop, jaw slack and slick with a mixture of drool and vomit.


    ¡°I¡¯m loyal¡­¡± He muttered to himself, ¡°I¡¯m loyal¡­¡±

 Chapter Eighteen: Shell-Shocked

    ¡°Sir¡­?¡± Michael asked, crouching down next to Hoplite, ¡°What¡¯s goin¡¯ on?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m loyal.¡± Hoplite muttered, eyes wide as he stared ahead at nothing.


    A cold shiver ran up his spine as he saw his childhood hero reduced to a shell-shocked mess. This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen to a guy like Thirty-Seven, he was an invincible killing machine¡­ but seein¡¯ him like this? It was almost enough to make Michael wanna ball up n¡¯ cry. He eased himself down beside Hoplite, leaving some space between them as the super-soldier continued to ramble about how he was loyal. The interior of the rest-stop seemed that much darker and more terrifying now that Hoplite was hugging his knees to his chest like a scared kid. The light of Michael¡¯s helmet and the torchlight from the others did little to fend of that blackness, though compared to seeing Thirty-Seven in this state¡­ the dark seemed a triflin¡¯ thing.


    ¡°I¡¯m loyal.¡± Hoplite repeated, wide golden eyes still fixed ahead of him.


    ¡°I know that sir,¡± Michael said with a grimace, ¡°Each Arm knows that from the outer colonies to Earth, action figures, remember?¡± He asked, waving his hand in front of Thirty-Seven¡¯s face.


    ¡°Loyal. I swear.¡± Hoplite said.


    ¡°Right, yeah I know that¡­¡± Michael said gently, ¡°But ya gotta get outta this funk sir, I ain¡¯t got a clue what¡¯s happenin¡¯ to ya, but ya gotta figure it out.¡±


    Hoplite didn¡¯t seem to hear him, simply staring ahead with a face of cold stone. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, rising from the ground slowly before backing away from Thirty-Seven, a deep frown on his face. What was he supposed to do about this? Without Hoplite active, there wouldn¡¯t be any way to get that wagon going, not unless someone in the party could magic it into movin¡¯.


    Maybe Alistair could summon that big ol¡¯ goon of his, that thing looked strong enough to lug the wagon, but he doubted that it¡¯d be as fast as Hoplite. He had been right to want to cross the Fiendbridge as quickly as possible, they only had a limited store of safely edible supplies¡­ if they ran out then¡­ The situation was starting to look more and more grim the longer Hoplite¡¯s (hopefully) temporary insanity persisted. An hour had passed already and the guy was still a mumbling mess¡­


    There had to be some way to snap him out of it, maybe Lance could help out, she knew Hoplite better than the rest of the people here, even more than Michael, come to think of it. He turned his head, spotting the Watcher speaking with Twindil and her friends. Whatever they were talking about, it made Lance nervous, based on how she shifted her stance, her eyes finding his for only an instant before flicking away again.


    Michael wanted to go join in the conversation, see what it was they were talkin¡¯ bout, but he also didn¡¯t want to leave Hoplite to his own devices. He didn¡¯t know if Thirty-Seven might try and off himself or not¡­ but even if Michael decided to keep an eye on him, would he even be able to stop Hoplite from pulling that trigger if he decided to do it? Probably not, and Michael wasn¡¯t helping him out by staring at him.


    Hesitantly, Michael walked away, approaching Lance and the rest of the squad slowly as his ears still strained to hear Hoplite¡¯s mutterings. Once he was out of earshot, he called out to the group.


    ¡°Whatcha guys talkin¡¯ about?¡± He asked, ¡°I ain¡¯t having any luck getting him back.¡±


    Twindil¡¯s eyes met Lance¡¯s, and they locked for a solid three seconds before Lance approached Michael, leaning in to whisper, ¡°Hoplite is he¡­¡± She hesitated, ¡°I mean, does he really bear the blood of a Dragon? Do you know anything about that?¡±


    Michael¡¯s eyes narrowed at her, offended at the ridiculous question, ¡°Hell naw, we ain¡¯t even from Ahkoolis girly, you know that.¡±


    ¡°Legolanthas seemed to think so,¡± Elum said, crossing his arms, ¡°I think a Dragon knows what he¡¯s talking about.¡±


    Michael glared at the devil-looking freak, ¡°Clearly he don¡¯t, Hopps is the pinnacle of mankind, just beneath Lord Jyn himself, he¡¯s human.¡± He said, heat entering his voice.


    ¡°Humans don¡¯t have hot blood¡­ and it certainly isn¡¯t orange.¡± Twindil said calmly, ¡°I¡¯m not trying to irritate you Michael, but perhaps there was some truth to what Legolanthas-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Michael cut her off loudly, ¡°We ain¡¯t from this world, he can¡¯t have local DNA so just drop it.¡±


    ¡°But-¡± Lance began.


    ¡°I said drop it!¡± He shouted finally, his frustration bubbling to the surface, ¡°Ya¡¯ll backwater world hicks don¡¯t know nothin¡¯ about us, so dontchu try to tell us what we are.¡±


    As if Lord Jyn would allow any sort of extraterrestrial being the chance to procreate in his empire. Terna was fully human, always had been and it always would be, the Eight Arms would strangle anyone who¡¯d claim otherwise. A few seconds of tense silence passed before Michael abruptly turned on his heel, ignoring Lance and Twindil¡¯s attempts to call him back as he moved towards Hoplite. How dare they accuse Thirty-Seven of not being human!?


    The nerve of it made his trigger finger itch. More zealous Ternans wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to gun them all down for entertaining such a notion. In fact, if he hadn¡¯t had time to get to know these guys, he might very well have done so. Well, maybe not¡­ this was supposed to be a different dimension right? He needed to remember that for the next time they made ignorant assumptions. They didn¡¯t know how things were in Terna, after all.


    It still didn¡¯t make those accusations any less scathing and offensive though. May as well say that Lord Jyn wasn¡¯t human, it was about as impossible. Wait a second¡­ that gave him an idea. He quickened his pace, coming to Hoplite¡¯s side once more with a determined frown set on his face.


    ¡°You know what them guys over there said about you?¡± Michael asked, leaning down to try and make eye contact with Hoplite.


    ¡°I am loyal.¡± Hoplite said in reply.


    Maybe Michael could coax Hopps outta this mess by telling him what the party had just been saying about him. The outrage of it might make him march over there to proclaim the purity of his humanity. It would cause a few more cracks in the team dynamic, but if it would snap Hoplite back to normal it was worth the try.


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    ¡°They tried sayin¡¯ that you got Dragon genes or some crap, tryin¡¯ to say you ain¡¯t fully human.¡± Michael told him, exasperated, ¡°That¡¯d be like saying Lord Jyn ain¡¯t human, you know?¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s teeth clenched then, eyes somehow going wider before he became deathly still. Michael gulped, standing straight before taking a long step back away from Thirty-Seven. It was like the big guy had been frozen, turned into an icy statue. Michael gulped, but his mouth had gone dry.


    ¡°Uh¡­ sir?¡± Michael asked after a moment.


    He didn¡¯t reply, he just sat there, silently staring at nothing. He didn¡¯t even continue rambling about his loyalty anymore. Michael had a feeling that he had just made things astronomically worse. Mentioning Lord Jyn had apparently not comforted him whatsoever. There was something to this -him repeating how he was loyal -the mention of Lord Jyn freezing him in place¡­ how were they connected?


    He thought on it a long while, lips pulled to a tight line as he watched for any change in Hoplite¡¯s behavior. Eventually, it clicked. It was hard to think about, but what if Hoplite had been under suspicion of treachery at one point? For a normal human, they¡¯d just be executed and forgotten, but for a Hoplite? Especially the Hoplite? There would only be one thing to do, and that was re-indoctrination.


    Just the thought of it made his skin go cold. It was a method that was rarely used to ensure loyalty, but he had met people that had gone through it. They never came out the same way afterwards. He¡¯d nearly been sent to the chair himself on a number of occasions, but not for any legitimate reason. Michael had made many enemies in the upper-ranks because of his attitude, enemies that had tried to send him to the chair to teach him a lesson.


    Thankfully he¡¯d never been determined to be disloyal by the Third Arm: The Quaesitorem, but the possibility had still been there. If Hoplite had been suspected and sent to the chair though¡­ did that mean that the Third Arm had found evidence of treachery from Thirty-Seven? It seemed ludicrous to even think about, but then why was Hoplite behaving like this?


    Michael sighed, shaking his head before he once again approached Thirty-Seven, slowly putting a hand on his shoulder plate.


    ¡°Ya ain¡¯t going back to the chair.¡± He said, ¡°I know yer loyal, I¡¯ll vouch for ya to the Third if they ask.¡±


    Hoplite blinked finally, nearly making Michael jump outta his boots. Golden eyes met his, and two massive gauntleted hands gripped Michael¡¯s shoulders. He nearly let out a scream, thinking that Thirty-Seven was about to reduce him to paste right there on the spot. Yet, instead of delivering a crushing death, Hoplite spoke.


    ¡°H-how did you get access to that intel, private?¡± He asked, with a cold stutter, ¡°Who told you?¡±


    Michael¡¯s mouth worked, but before any words could come out, Hoplite¡¯s grip tightened. Pain shot up his shoulders, and he gave an agonized grunt, trying and failing to shrug out of Thirty-Seven¡¯s grasp.


    ¡°Who told you?¡± Hoplite asked again, his face twisting up into a snarl, ¡°Who told you!?¡±


    ¡°Sir lemme go,¡± He groaned, ¡°I can¡¯t- breathe.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t go back!¡± Hoplite screamed in his face, ¡°Do you understand!?¡±


    He could feel his shoulder blades pressing together, his lungs straining for air¡­ but there was something else, a boiling heat building up within Michael that shocked him once he realized what it was.


    ¡°Get off me!¡± Michael screamed back, surprising himself with the sudden rage he felt.


    He jumped, Hoplite¡¯s hands still gripping his shoulders, lashing out with his right leg and kicking the super-soldier right in the nose. Pain shot up his leg from the shock, it felt as if he¡¯d kicked a boulder. A big, angry boulder. Despite the power Michael had put into that strike, Hoplite¡¯s head hadn¡¯t even moved. A kick like that would have knocked a normal man to to the floor, but he shouldn¡¯t have been shocked. This wasn¡¯t exactly a normal man he was tryin¡¯ to get away from.


    Those wide golden eyes simply continued to stare as Michael¡¯s foot lowered back to the ground. The only result from that kick was a small caking of dirt that now stained Hoplite¡¯s nose. Michael was going to die now that he¡¯d attacked him¡­ in his diminished mental state, Hoplite would determine Michael to be hostile for sure. He prepared himself for death, but was surprised when Hoplite released his grip, wiping away the dirt left behind by Michael¡¯s boot. He staggered back, wincing and grunting at the agony in his shoulders as Hoplite stared down at his own palms, once again frozen in place. Suddenly he felt another pair of hands grab him from behind, and he snarled, smacking the hands away without thinking.


    When he whirled though, he saw Twindil standing there, concern plain on her face as she held both hands up. The others had gathered behind her, but their attention was locked firmly on Hoplite, who had returned to muttering about his loyalty. Alistair¡¯s hand was firm on his the shaft of his war hammer, but he looked anything but confident. The same could be said for all the others, save for Lance, who looked as concerned as Twindil did, though not for Michael, based on how she stared at Hoplite.


    ¡°Sorry Twinny,¡± Michael groaned, clutching both his shoulders, ¡°Didn¡¯t mean that.¡±


    ¡°It is alright.¡± She said before nodding her head in Hoplite¡¯s direction, ¡°What caused that outburst?¡±


    ¡°I was just tryin¡¯ to calm him down,¡± He replied, shaking his head, ¡°I guess I said something to freak him out real bad. If ya¡¯ll are gonna try talkin¡¯ to him, choose yer words carefully¡­¡± He muttered, wincing at the pain in his crushed shoulders.


    ¡°Hold still for just a moment Michael,¡± Twindil told him firmly, placing her hands on his temples, ¡°I can heal your shoulders for you, if you¡¯ll let me.¡±


    Michael blinked, almost asking how she intended to do that with their limited medical supplies. He needed to remember that folks here could use that Foundation stuff to do the impossible.


    ¡°Sounds good to me, thanks.¡± Michael said with a nod.


    ¡°Afina,¡± Twindil said, eyes going distant, ¡°Heal this man so that his pains do not disrupt his inner tranquility.¡±


    He wouldn¡¯t say that he had ¡®inner tranquility¡¯ at the moment, especially not after getting manhandled by a damn super-soldier. Nothing seemed to happen while her hands were on him, but after a moment, spikes of ice stabbed into his bruised shoulders, freezing him in place as he sucked in air through his teeth. Just as quickly as it came however, the cold vanished, and a great hunger came over him in its place. It was like a bottomless pit had opened up in his stomach, it was all he could do not to immediately march over to the wagon to eat a Theopalu¡¯s worth of food.


    ¡°You¡¯re healed, but you should really go eat now, the hunger will not subside. The form of healing I used is a bit lazy, it draws on your own stores of energy to quickly restore you. It isn¡¯t like the first time I healed you¡­¡± She said, tucking some stray hairs behind her long ear, ¡°That form of healing poses some risk to myself, as I¡¯ve not mastered it yet.¡±


    ¡°Thank ya,¡± Michael said as the monster in his gut growled angrily, ¡°But I gotta go, I¡¯ll be back!¡± He said urgently, turning on his heel and running over to the wagon.


    His gut felt like it was trying to eat itself, it needed to be sated or he¡¯d wither away till he looked like Theopalu. He hoped that they¡¯d be careful if they tried talking to Hopps, the guys was nuts right now¡­ Wait a second¡­


    Had he just kicked Hoplite Thirty-Seven in the face!?

 Chapter Nineteen: Doubt

    Lance watched as Michael retreated back toward the wagon, a hand braced against his growling stomach as he went. The sight would have been almost comedic on any other day, but with Hoplite having been reduced to this state, it couldn¡¯t even draw a grin from her. She was still frustrated with Hoplite for what he had said to her earlier that day, but that didn¡¯t mean she despised him. She drew no pleasure from seeing him broken like this, indeed it tore her guts out to see him babbling and staring like a madman¡­


    She decided right then that she would continue being angry with him, but only after he went back to normal. He was her friend and he needed her help, but she would need to proceed carefully, or else she might get crushed as Michael had. Hoplite may have let him go, but he had still hurt him, and pretty badly from what she saw. She¡¯d follow Michael¡¯s advice and try to choose her words carefully, but first, she needed to find out what he had said that pushed Hoplite to violence.


    She quickly followed after Michael, leaving Twindil and the others to watch over Hoplite. Lance didn¡¯t think they¡¯d try to talk to him after that display, but she guessed that they would at least stay close to keep an eye on Hoplite. She and Twindil shared a meaningful glance, and Lance read understanding in her eyes. Twindil knew Lance¡¯s intentions it seemed, and likely she knew that it¡¯d be best to leave Hoplite to her.


    Michael scrambled up into the back of the wagon like a rabid dog, a thin stream of drool even leaking out of his mouth as he tore open a sack filled with dried jerky. He wasted no time in stuffing his face filled to bursting with the meat, and Lance couldn¡¯t help but wince. His teeth would be horribly sore after munching through all that leathery flesh, but she understood the hunger he felt. Being healed that way always left a pit in one¡¯s stomach the size of Ahkoolis itself.


    Right as she was about to climb up herself, Theopalu roused from his slumber at the other end of the wagon. His wrinkled face furrowed, his nose seeming to lift him from his seat as the scent of jerky reached his nose. He yawned, slowly moving over to Michael and reaching his hand into the bag. Michael snarled, smacking the intruding hand away in between bouts of stuffing his mouth whenever space opened up.


    Theopalu frowned, and tried to wrest the bag free of Michael¡¯s grip.


    The Outworlder pulled the sack away violently, ¡°I shaw yoo eash ouh o dee by noshelf!¡± Michael shouted, his words muffled and distorted from the blockage.


    ¡°I¡¯m old.¡± Theopalu replied, ¡°I need a lot to eat¡­ did we reach Akan-var by the way?¡± He asked, holding his hand out palm upward.


    Michael ignored the question, turning his back to Theopalu and leaving the bag braced between his legs. That was when he saw her, still standing there watching him with a small frown beneath the wagon. His chewing slowed to a halt, his cheeks completely filled like a rodent storing food.


    ¡°I wanted to ask what you had said to Hoplite to provoke him¡­ I¡¯ll wait for you to finish.¡± She said with a sigh, climbing into the wagon to sit beside him, ¡°And no Theopalu, we¡¯re still not there yet.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Her elder replied, trying to reach over Michael''s shoulder and into the bag, ¡°Soon I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Michael slapped his hand away again with a sharp glare, and Lance took advantage of his distraction to swipe up a single piece of jerky from the sack. She then tossed the piece to Theopalu, who caught it with casual ease, stuffing the whole piece in his mouth before swallowing it whole¡­ as usual, without chewing it. Michael stared at her like she had just stabbed him, betrayal clear in his eyes.


    ¡°Another.¡± Theopalu said, holding his hand out again.


    ¡°That¡¯s all you get for now old friend.¡± Lance told him, ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse us? You can go back to your nap if you¡¯d wish, but I must speak with Michael.¡±


    Theopalu grumbled for only a moment before slinking back to his corner of the wagon, returning to slumber the instant he laid down. All these years and she still couldn¡¯t understand why an elf would ever need to sleep that much, even one as old as Theopalu.


    ¡°Finish that mouthful.¡± Lance said, raising an eyebrow as she stared at his still-bulging cheeks.


    Michael narrowed his eyes at her, but did as she said, quickly chewing up the jerky before finally gulping it down and letting out a satisfied sigh. His eyes found hers, and she read hesitation in his eyes. He pursed his lips for a moment before finally taking a deep breath, seeming to resign himself to something.


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    ¡°I gotta give you some context here¡­¡± He said, averting his eyes, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Hopps got¡­¡± He hesitated again, ¡°Got re-indoctrinated. I don¡¯t think you know what that means- not in Ternan terms anyway, but it''s a serious punishment.¡±


    Lance said nothing, silently paying attention as Michael continued his explanation.


    ¡°Normally it¡¯s the last form of punishment for folks who¡¯re disloyal¡­ and stubborn.¡± He continued with a wince, ¡°They strap em¡¯ to a chair, the accused I mean¡­ I ain¡¯t never seen one mind, but I heard it looks kinda mundane, but they connect something to yer brain to re-write it to fit with what Terna approves of.¡± He paused, ¡°It only takes a second normally, sometimes not even half-a-second, but the chair can only re-write thoughts if the guy sitting in it gives in n¡¯ lets it. I heard every second spent resisting it makes it seem like ten years go by while yer still sitting there. That¡¯s why it usually doesn¡¯t take very long to give in and let it change what ya think.¡± He leaned in closer to her, ¡°If yer plannin¡¯ on talking to him, be careful. I don¡¯t know how long he was in the chair, but it had to have been a long time for him to be actin¡¯ like that¡­ a real long time. Don¡¯t mention the chair or re-indoctrination, alright?¡±


    Lance stood abruptly, her face having grown hot with rage the longer Michael¡¯s explanation had gone on. How dare this Terna treat anyone to that kind of hell, this ¡®Lord Jyn¡¯ was nothing short of a demon! It was one thing to imprison rebels and other dissidents, but to subject them to decades of torture was nothing short of villainy! Taking children and making them into emotionless husks, torturing its own citizens for questioning the regime- Lance had fully made up her mind now.


    She would be taking Hoplite away from the Octopus that was Terna, one way or another, he would be free to live his own life, outside the reach of his tyrannical overlord. He wasn¡¯t even in the same realm anymore, they would never put him back in that chair, and if they came to try, she would find a way to stop them. She leapt from the wagon, landing cleanly and running back over to Hoplite. Twindil and the others turn to stare at her, surprised at her sudden sprint. She ignored their questions, rushing to Hoplite¡¯s side.


    He had slumped to the ground again, pulling his knees to his chest as he stared dead ahead.


    ¡°I am loyal.¡± He said, ¡°I will serve loyally.¡±


    She leaned down, taking her head in her hands and tilting it up to face her. She stared into those vacant golden eyes¡­ and read sheer terror there. No other emotion could be read from those eyes¡­ it was all that remained.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let you go back!¡± Lance shouted, ¡°You will not go back, do you hear me!¡±


    The emotion in his eyes shifted from terror to confusion for a brief instant before reverting to their previous state. He began mumbling again when she put her forehead to his, his eyes all that she could see. She had never been this close to him before¡­ his skin was hot to the touch, almost as if he was feverish. If he really did have the blood of a Dragon, then this heat wasn¡¯t an indicator of illness, it was just how he was.


    ¡°You won¡¯t go back Hoplite.¡± She told him, ¡°I¡¯m not going to let them take you. It¡¯s alright.¡±


    His mumblings quieted, his eyes now conveying uncertainty, doubt, and fear. She needed to appeal to that cold logic of his if she wanted to make any headway, thankfully she knew just what to say.


    ¡°They can¡¯t reach you here, Hoplite, you¡¯re safe.¡± She whispered in his ear, ¡°This is a different realm than yours, remember?¡± She hesitated before continuing, ¡°They can¡¯t put you back in the chair if one doesn¡¯t exist here. It''s over and they can¡¯t hurt you again.¡±


    He froze again for an instant, a nigh volcanic rage in his eyes. Just as she was about to pull away though, the emotion shifted, as did his expression. His eyes had narrowed a bit, brow furrowed, deep frown set on his face¡­ consideration. That was it, he was thinking about it now, the risk had been worth it after all. She continued to hold his head in her hands, keenly aware of how hot her palms were becoming. Lance dare not retract them now though, not while he was thinking about what she¡¯d told him, she¡¯d not risk him losing his train of thought.


    After another long moment passed, he finally took a deep, shuddering breath. The fear was still there in his eyes, but the discipline was back now too, slowly drowning the terror beneath it before it was all that remained in his steely gaze. Slowly but surely, he stood, gently brushing away her hands before turning his back to her.


    ¡°Thirty seconds was how long it took for the chair to fix me.¡± Hoplite told her, ¡°It has clearly damaged my psyche. I apologize for the trouble, it will not happen again.¡±


    Lance paled at the words. After what Michael had told her¡­ that meant that it had taken three-hundred years for Hoplite¡¯s stubbornness to give in to what the chair wanted. She couldn¡¯t even imagine the mind-numbing madness one would feel after just one second in that hellish device¡­ and wait just one second, what did he just say!?


    ¡°Fix you!?¡± Lance yelled, baffled, ¡°It hurt you, traumatized you, it was nothing short of pure evil!.¡±


    His head hung low, ¡°I know.¡± He said, his voice nearly inaudible, ¡°I was disloyal though, and it had to be done. Terna needed me.¡±


    ¡°Is that what-¡± She started sharply.


    ¡°Please, we can talk more later. I¡­ want to be alone.¡± He said, speaking over her, ¡°Thank you for your assistance, Lance.¡± He finished, turning his head to meet her eyes.


    And with that, he picked up his helmet, slipping it over his head before walking off, leaving her shocked. Besides the discipline in his eyes just then, there was a new emotion present, one that looked to be growing in intensity¡­


    It was doubt.

 Chapter Twenty: The Gates of Akan-Var

    Hoplite hadn¡¯t spoken once since the night Lance had drawn him out of his madness, he wouldn¡¯t respond to questions, complaints, not even from Lance or Michael. It had been three days since then, and Alistair was beginning to think the Outworlder would never open his mouth again. The wagon veered as Hoplite adjusted his course, moving to avoid another cluster of twitching Fiend bodies. It had become apparent soon after they had set off that Halm had cleared the way forward for them, as the Fiend said he would. Indeed, these past few days had been outright peaceful compared to how the trip started.


    They should be arriving at Akan-Var this very day though¡­ and he knew that short-lived peace would soon come to an end. They would be deeper within Kazon¡¯s realm now, the bastard, Alistair would relish removing The Lord of Hate¡¯s head from his body. After that was done, her soul would finally be free¡­ then he could return to the caravans. They wouldn¡¯t allow him to live with them ever again, but the Atheyare would at least allow him to see Vivia once her soul had been returned¡­ right?


    He exhaled sharply through his nose as he thought of his exile¡­ an exile that he had brought upon himself. He shook his head lightly, there was no point in thinking back on how things could have gone. Even if he hadn¡¯t been exiled, he¡¯d still be here, sitting in this wagon to go slay Kazon. Yet¡­ if he¡¯d not been shunned, he would at least have had a home to return to once this quest was concluded. These dreary thoughts were going to take a toll on him¡­ it was time for a change, any change.


    He frowned, lifting his head to stare at Hoplite¡¯s back, ¡°You still not going to talk?¡± He asked casually, raising his voice to be heard over the wind.


    No reply, as per usual. Well at least he wasn¡¯t sitting on his rear acting like a mumbling fool anymore. It was so¡­ unbecoming of someone like him. Alistair couldn¡¯t blame the man completely for having broken down though, based on what Michael had said about this ¡®re-indoctrination¡¯, Hoplite had gone through literal hell. Could Alistair really claim that he¡¯d have fared any better, being forced to relive such torment?


    ¡°It''s no use.¡± Elum said, the Ifrit sitting directly across from him, ¡°I was making fun of him yesterday remember? Trying to see if I couldn¡¯t get him to snap back at me... Nothing.¡± He continued with a shrug, ¡°He¡¯ll talk when he feels it''s necessary I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± Alistair replied, leaning his elbow on the rim of the wagon, ¡°It feels wrong not to hear ¡®affirmative¡¯ or ¡®negative¡¯ every now and then.¡±


    He says that, but the truth was that Alistair was concerned about Hoplite snapping again¡­ if that sudden aggression returned at the wrong time it would not end well. This man had managed to kill Tuji, and none of the Godlings here had been capable of defeating the son of Zodd on their own, at least, not yet. If Hoplite decided to kill a member of the party, he wasn¡¯t sure there was anything they could do to stop him. Alistair needed to get stronger, and quickly, not just to kill Kazon, but to stand a chance against Hoplite if he went mad.


    It would be a fight that could be hopefully avoided¡­ Alistair knew exactly what the metal behemoth was capable of. It made sense now why the Outworlder could compete with Godlings and entire armies of monsters, the blood of a Dragon flowed through his veins. Just like Alistair and his friends, Hoplite bore divine blood. The sources of their divinity were different, true, but now that he thought about it, this meant that, in some capacity, they were related.


    Would Hoplite be considered a cousin then? Or something different? Would a Dragonling be more of an uncle than a cousin? Alistair supposed that it would depend on who Hoplite¡¯s father was¡­ which, if he was an Outworlder, only meant there could be one Dragon that could have possibly sired him.


    The Banished Child, the First Dragon and the child of Zodd, Saihara, and Draoi. Atheyare lore-keepers had a few conflicting tales about how the Banished Child had been created, with more than a few claiming that The First Dragon was the result of an orgy between the three Pillar-Gods. This was unlikely, in Alistair¡¯s opinion. It didn¡¯t make sense for Saihara to want to indulge in such debauchery, and the same went for both Zodd and Draoi.


    Alistair subscribed to the more popular theory, that in the formation of Ahkoolis, the Banished Child had been born along with the planet¡­ by accident. The three powers converging to create the world had made The First Dragon as an unintended byproduct. Either way, every version of the tale ends with the Dragon being banished from this realm by his parents. The reasons for why this banishment took place are ultimately unknown, lost in the First Godling War or even before that.


    There were still countless tales claiming everything from stealing divine sweets, to challenging the very Gods themselves for dominion of Ahkoolis. Most people believed the latter, after all it made more sense for a Dragon to desire to rule. Stealing cosmic cookies was a bit too ridiculous a concept for Alistair to accept.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Elum asked, his red snapping fingers appearing in front of Alistair¡¯s face.


    Alistair snarled and slapped away the offending hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking here, leave me be!¡± Alistair told him sharply.


    ¡°Well I¡¯m trying to pass the time!¡± Elum shouted back, ¡°And I know there isn¡¯t anything going on in that blonde head of yours, so don¡¯t go saying that you¡¯re ¡®thinking¡¯.¡±


    Ever since they were kids, Elum had a special talent for saying just the right things to irritate him. Thankfully this was a two-way street.


    ¡°Just because you can¡¯t think to yourself doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t.¡± Alistair retorted, ¡°Not my fault you run at a mind-melting temperature, moron.¡±


    ¡°Nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh- I¡¯m Alistair I think I¡¯m so smart!¡± Elum mocked, pitching his voice higher while flailing his wrists about like a tantruming child.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Alistair asked, lifting a brow ¡°Are you five?¡±


    ¡°I think yer both five.¡± Michael said scooting closer to them, ¡°Who goes ¡®nuh nuh nuh¡¯? Kids, that¡¯s who.¡±


    ¡°Nuh nuh nuh- kids that¡¯s who!¡± Alistair mocked, now flailing his own wrists about as Elum just had.


    Michael didn¡¯t seem to understand that Elum and Alistair¡¯s banter wasn¡¯t truly meant to be scathing. It was merely harmless fun to pass the time.


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± Michael asked, ¡°Well ¡®nuh nuh nuh¡¯ yourself pal!¡± Michael mocked, pitching his voice high.


    Ah, well perhaps the Outworlder understood better than Alistair initially thought. Maybe he had a friend he could act like this with back in his own realm? Well then, if he was going to join in on the childish insults, then Alistair wouldn¡¯t stop him. Anything to help keep him out of his own head¡­ He heard Twindil sigh, and he looked over to see a flat stare and deep frown on her face. Now there was someone who didn¡¯t get it, all these years and still she always tried to shut the banter down, even before she joined Afina¡¯s Church.


    To be fair though, neither he nor Elum ever explained it to her. It was sort of an unspoken arrangement between them. Acknowledging it in any way would only spoil the fun.


    ¡°I do hope you all restrain yourselves once we reach the city.¡± Twindil sighed, ¡°I would hate to get cursed because a horde heard ¡®nuh nuh nuh¡¯ from around a corner.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Michael said with a nod, ¡°That would nuh nuh nuht be good¡­ Eh? Get it?¡±


    Nobody replied.


    Things went on like that for another hour or so, the sun coming to hang directly over a cloudless sky. It was getting warm in the wagon again, but thankfully the heat had been lessening the further south they traveled. There was only a bit of sweat that beaded at everyone¡¯s brows now, as opposed to when the journey started. That had been the worst leg of the bridge trip for sure, it had felt like he¡¯d been bathing in sweat.


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    He dearly wished he could sink into a proper bath, but he knew that would be a long ways off-


    ¡°I got a buddy that I hope made it down here from the Sparrow,¡± Michael started with a yawn, ¡°Me n¡¯ him kinda talk like you guys do, grew up on the same backwater farm planet, enlisted together, all that good stuff.¡±


    All eyes, save for Theopalu and Nolvi¡¯s fixed on him.


    ¡°Of course you grew up on the same planet.¡± Lance said, ¡°You¡¯re both Outworlders.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit more complicated where we¡¯re from.¡± Michael said with a small grin forming at the corner of his mouth, ¡°See, our people own hundreds of worlds, not just Earth.¡±


    Alistair shook his head and Elum scoffed, but Lance and Twindil leaned toward him, their interest clear.


    ¡°Earth is the homeworld, it''s where we Outworlders started, but when Lord Jyn came along, he sent us to the stars, told humans to conquer them with him.¡± He explained casually, ¡°He¡¯s a natural born super-human that guy, he can live forever and he¡¯s got a brain bigger than this damn bridge.¡±


    ¡°You have hundreds of worlds under your control?¡± Twindil asked him, her eyes narrowing, ¡°It is common knowledge that a few worlds surround ours, but not hundreds¡­¡±


    ¡°Hundreds of stars maybe,¡± Elum chimed in, ¡°But hundreds of worlds like this one? Not possible, so stop exaggerating.¡±


    Michael smirked, licking his lips before crossing his arms, ¡°We¡¯re a species of conquerors, and the universe is a bigger place then ya¡¯ll think it is. Their ain¡¯t just hundreds of worlds¡­¡± He paused, his smile never leaving his face, ¡°There are billions of worlds. You could count every grain of sand on every beach on this planet and you wouldn¡¯t even come close to a hundredth of what¡¯s out there.¡±


    Alistair almost scoffed at Michael, the mere thought of such a scale was ridiculous¡­ yet, that did not mean his claims weren¡¯t credible. The Outworlders had built ships to traverse between the stars, who was to say that they didn¡¯t colonize other worlds? He struggled to wrap his head around the idea, it seemed to border on fiction and yet¡­ here he was, and one of their very ships was up somewhere in the sky¡­ Twindil paled, leaning back with eyes wide.


    She didn¡¯t seem to think Michael was exaggerating, but Elum merely scoffed. ¡°Ludicrous. I¡¯ll ask Hoplite once he¡¯s out of his dour mood, he¡¯d not make up stories just to impress us.¡±


    Michael shook his head, and replied in a decidedly condescending tone, ¡°You want a story, little buddy?¡± He pointed upwards, ¡°You know that gigantic thing that showed up next to your moon? Yeah, that ain¡¯t just some big comet, that is a bonafide spacecraft, one of the scariest ever made.¡±


    The wagon went silent for a moment before Twindil asked, ¡°Your people are capable of crafting such marvels?¡±


    Michael¡¯s smile suddenly died, a deep frown replacing it as his eyes became nigh-vacant.


    ¡°We¡­¡± He started slowly, ¡°We didn¡¯t make that one.¡±


    ¡°It was the¡­¡± Lance started, hesitating briefly before saying, ¡°The Final Kind¡¯s ship, yes?¡±


    The Final Kind?


    ¡°Alien freaks.¡± Michael replied with a nod, ¡°Like I said, billions of worlds, but that comes with billions of potential problems, and them¡¯s the biggest problem we got.¡± He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching tightly before he continued, ¡°War here is restricted to being planet-side, it''s hard for me to explain but¡­ War between worlds is common where we¡¯re from, imagine billions of people dying in a single shot from that thing in the sky, that¡¯s what it was capable of. That¡¯s what the Final Kind has been doing to us, they can go between stars too, so it was just a matter of time before they found us. Lord Jyn tried to be amicable o¡¯ course, tried to tell em¡¯ to mind their own business¡­ but then they tried to kill him. Lord Jyn didn¡¯t appreciate that one bit, and neither did the rest of humanity. When Lord Jyn was around it was hardly a fight, he could do things the Final Kind couldn¡¯t handle, I heard he blew up a fleet of their ships by just lookin¡¯ at em.¡±


    As Michael continued his tirade, Alistair¡¯s eyes widened. Lord Jyn was supposedly all-powerful and long lived¡­ and Hoplite was the son of a Dragon¡­ could it be that-


    Hoplite¡¯s pace suddenly slowed, shifting everyone toward the front of the wagon with various gasps or curses. He eventually came to a complete halt, his helmet firmly fixed on the horizon ahead of him. Michael squeezed between the space occupied by Alistair and Elum, resting his elbows on the rim.


    ¡°Sir?¡± Michael asked.


    ¡°Turn on your comms.¡± Hoplite replied curtly, finally breaking his days long silence.


    Michael¡¯s face suddenly became serious, his fingers pressing a small button on the side of his helmet. A strange noise could be heard emanating out of it soon after, sounding almost like crumpling paper before it became silent. He strained his ears to try and hear anything from Michael¡¯s helm, curious as to what was going on. He could swear that there was a faint voice coming from the helmet now, and while he couldn¡¯t make out the words, Alistair was certain that the voice was distressed.


    Michael¡¯s eyes suddenly widened, ¡°Come in, this is private Michael Harrison from the Eighth Arm marine division, can you read me?¡±


    A few seconds passed, the tiny voice in the helmet seeming to respond to his words with a frantic desperation.


    ¡°Calm down.¡± Hoplite said to no one, ¡°This is Hoplite Thirty-Seven, we are inbound to your location, we will be there ASAP, hold out until then.¡±


    Oddly, after Hoplite spoke those words, the voice seemed to become excited, as if it could hear him. Well, if Michael¡¯s helmet could transmit long distance messages, there was no reason that Hoplite¡¯s wouldn¡¯t. What had they called this before¡­ was it ladio? Yeah, the ladio. If they were talking to this stranger by introducing themselves by rank, were they also Outworlders? They had to be, why else would Hoplite break his days long silence? There was also the fact that they were able to speak to them with the ladio of course.


    ¡°How many are with you?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°And what is your exact location? Give me landmarks, we don¡¯t have coordinates on this planet.¡±


    A few more words were exchanged between the two parties over the ladio before finally the transmission ceased, the crackling from Michael¡¯s helmet becoming inaudible. Alistair was just about to ask what was going on, but the words caught in his throat as the wagon propelled itself forth at a terrifying speed. He and Elum lurched backward, trying to brace against Michael to keep themselves upright. This proved to be a fruitless endeavor though, as all three men ended up toppling over, laying flat over one another in the wagon bed. Michael cursed, shoving them off him before rising.


    Lance, Twindil, Nolvi and Theopalu all slid backward, colliding with the rim of the wagon before their hands could brace against the wagon''s walls. Twindil gave a small squeal as the world around the vehicle became a blur, Hoplite upping his pace to a level none of them had seen before. This all took place, and still somehow that old coot Theopalu still managed to keep snoring!


    ¡°The wheels are going to break off at this pace!¡± Alistair shouted as Lance struggled to move past him, ¡°Slow it down!¡±


    If Hoplite heard him at all, he gave no indication. Even if he had, Alistair doubted that he¡¯d listen to reason. Lance too tried to get Hoplite to slow his pace, but still he didn¡¯t reply, nor did he slow. The horrifying creaking of the wagon filled his mind with images of himself splattered across the stones of the Greatbridge, his skin scraping away as he slid into a gruesome death.


    Thankfully though, these thoughts never came to be. After nearly an hour of sheer terror, the wagon¡¯s pace finally slowed. Alistair held a fist to his lips as a wave of nausea came over him; men were simply not meant to move that fast! He inched over to the edge of the wagon behind Hoplite, resigning himself to his fate as hot bile began bubbling up his throat. Instead, he found himself gaping in shock at the towering structure that now cast a shadow over their little cart.


    A towering wall stretched out as far as the eye could see in both directions, looking almost exactly like the Fiendwall back in the Faelands. Almost, it seemed to loom over even that mighty construction, this could only be one place¡­ the Gates of Akan-Var. This massive construct could have been the twin of Akan-Dar¡¯s walls. Finally, after a week of hard travel, they had all made it through the first leg of their journey¡­


    It would be harder from here on out.


    Yet, while the walls were impossible to miss, the gates themselves proved more difficult to see. He always thought that they¡¯d be scaled to match the fortifications they were set within, yet that was not the case. It was only when they reached the base of the wall that they saw it. It was an almost humble thing compared to the wall, no bigger than any other gate he¡¯d seen in his travels. The cyclopean construct seemed to be almost completely intact from this distance, but as they drew closer the signs of decay became more apparent.


    They must have been made out of a generic type of rock, not Setstone like the Fiendbridge. Massive chunks of stone had been taken out of the walls, leaving the surface of the wall pitted. Had there been a siege here at some point? This didn¡¯t look like normal weathering, and Akan-Var likely had many enemies in the past¡­ as Akan-Dar did now.


    The gates themselves were made of the same sturdy rock as the walls, but they looked in even worse condition. Chunks of the gate had been completely punched through by something, leaving the other side visible, and it sat ajar, leaving enough space for an entire caravan to pass through. There were no Fiends anywhere to be seen either, at least none that were capable of moving. Halm had cleared them all out, as he had said, but where was the orc now? Had he not said that he¡¯d be waiting on this side of the bridge for their arrival? Maybe he was on the other side of these battered gates, clearing the entrance so they wouldn¡¯t be immediately swarmed by Fiends.


    ¡°Private Ortega, we¡¯re here.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Remain hidden, we¡¯re passing through the gates now.¡±


    Only desperate screaming could be heard from Michael¡¯s helmet as reply, a blood-curdling shout of pure terror. Alistair¡¯s hand found the handle of his hammer as the cart quickly charged toward the gate, already mentally readying himself to summon Baomiel for the battle ahead.


    ¡°They found her!¡± Michael shouted, ¡°We gotta hurry! Hold on Ortega, we¡¯re inbound!¡±

 Chapter Twenty-One: Cats Flight

    ¡°Hold on Ortega, we¡¯re inbound!¡± Private Harrison shouted over the comms, barely audible over her own screaming.


    Catalina Ortega prepared herself for death as the roaring purple mutants charged up the stairs toward her position. She bit back another scream as she flew upward, hoping to Lord Jyn that there was an exit at the top of this stairwell. All she had to do was last until Hoplite Thirty-Seven arrived, surely he and private Harison had some ammo to spare, they¡¯d need it for this horde of mutants. She¡¯d run out of munitions over a week ago, after her squad was slaughtered by these freaks of nature¡­ at least, she wished they had just been killed.


    As her boosters sent her flying up the stairwell, she spared a glance down, seeing the occasional glint of Ternan marine helmets in the crowd. So many of the escape pods had landed feet-first into hell itself, both Ternan and Final Kind. Some of the alien menace was also present in the flowing horde, Yugoro¡¯s, Swaglay, and Pugs scrambled after her, charging alongside their lifelong enemies. Worse however, were the infected Wasps, the creatures struggling to gain lift with buzzing wings as the monsters trampled over them. That horrible buzzing of their wings along with the roaring voices of the quickly approaching horde made her skin crawl.


    If she even got a scratch from any of these freaks, it would be over for her¡­ and she¡¯d end up the same way as her squad had, as a blubbering purple freak. Her training as a Diver would hopefully see her through this, but unless Hoplite showed up soon, she was as good as dead. As she neared the ceiling, she felt sheer relief at seeing an open doorway, one that led to the outside. Hopefully the jumpers wouldn¡¯t see her before she could fly off, those monsters may be able to snag her right out of the air.


    She was fast and hard to catch, but Cat was also very slight, barely reaching one-hundred pounds in weight. There¡¯d be no way for her to break out of their grasp if they got their hands on her, best bet would be to stab at them until the pain made them drop. They would still be able to inflict injury on her before that could happen though¡­ and injury led to infection ten times out of ten it seemed.


    She landed at the top of the stairwell, and sprinted through the open doorway, the dull buzzing and roaring of the horde echoing up the staircase after her. Her head whipped this way and that, trying to catch sight of the giant gate Hoplite would be surely arriving at. Once she spotted it, she ran for the edge of the roof, sparing her jets to allow them some time to cool off. This model thankfully didn¡¯t need fuel in order to fly, but it would overheat if used for too long. She didn¡¯t know the science of it exactly, and frankly she didn¡¯t care.


    The basics was all she needed, if she flew with these for too long, for over three minutes, the odds of it exploding or shutting down became a legitimate factor. After that point, the odds of one of those two happening would increase¡­ she had already spent two minutes straight flying, meaning she had about a minute left before she¡¯d enter the danger zone. Cat just had to make it to the next building, then she could cool her jets, both literally and metaphorically.


    The gate was still a good distance away, perhaps three city blocks, it would be preferable to cool off. If only she had one of the fuel-based boosters, then Cat wouldn¡¯t have to worry about overheating. Then again, the problem of running out of fuel would have been an inevitability, a fatal one at that considering her environment.


    Thirty-Seven and private Harrison surely would have passed through the gates by now, apparently they had some local reinforcements with them too, but she doubted it would be enough to overcome the sheer volume of hostiles running through these ruined streets. The horde spilled out from the doorway right as she reached the edge of the roof, and she jumped, activating her jets and sending her flying off.


    If there weren¡¯t any jumpers in the streets below, she¡¯d be able to recuperate at the next building. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t seem that lady luck was on her side. Already she could hear the dozens of loud pops of air being burst, and she risked a look back to see three jumpers leaping through the air toward her.


    Another variant of these infected, the rarest and the most deadly, at least to divers. Cat had no idea how they did it, but these mutants were capable of kicking the air so hard that it sent them flying. Their feet were blurs whenever they leapt, using nothing to propel themselves up toward her, screaming threats in perfect Jynesian. These beasts seemed to retain some lucidity, but that didn¡¯t make them reasonable.


    ¡°Scratch cut smash!¡± One of them shouted, their voice booming and guttural, ¡°Scratch cut smash!¡± It repeated.


    ¡°Kick kick kick!¡± Another shouted, ¡°Kick punch bite!¡±


    Tears began welling in the corners of her eyes as terror filled her, flying straight over the building she had intended to rest her jets at. The only thing to do now was to try and make it to the gate, she could stay out of the jumpers reach as long as she flew into the danger zone¡­ meaning she would need to be lucky to survive.


    She flew high, then swooped down, forcing the jumpers to adjust their course to catch her. She dove low, just above street level, swerving over the crowds of mutants and around buildings in an attempt to shake the jumpers from her tail. She screamed as she heard air popping around the corner, rapidly ascending to avoid another jumper as it rounded.


    ¡°Rip hair mulch guts!¡± It shouted, rising after her.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    It was soon joined by the others that were already giving chase before, bringing the total up to four mutants on her tail. Trying to lose them had proven to be a waste of precious time, the only thing to do was go straight for the gate! She assumed position one, horizontal in the air, flying toward the gate like a bullet.


    She could feel the heat of her thrusters now, seeping into her feet, her hips, her back. It was painful, but she knew that this was nothing compared to what those freaks had planned for her should they catch up. The gate was straight ahead now, all she had to do was make it there and she¡¯d be safe, Higgins and especially Thirty-Seven would be able to fend off the jumpers. In fact, she could see them now! The Hoplite Thirty-Seven was there, hauling what looked like a primitive wagon, personnel loaded in the cart. She bumped her chin, sending the thrusters into overdrive as the jumpers began gaining on her. Her flesh began to blister under her thin armor, but she didn¡¯t care. She could live with a few measly burn scars, she didn¡¯t care as long as she got away from these freaks!


    Hoplite seemed to spot her immediately, meaning that he also likely saw her pursuers. Please for the love of Terna, let him be as good a shot as she¡¯d heard! Her heart fell as the thrusters began to flutter and die, tears rolling down her cheeks as she forcefully descended.


    ¡°Damn stupid things, fly!¡± She shouted desperately as she began flailing, bumping her chin to get them to cooperate.


    Her skin felt like it was going to fry right off her bones, but she couldn¡¯t die here! The thrusters reluctantly complied with her request, giving one final push and sending her flying toward Hoplite, who was already taking aim with a massive rifle. She could feel the bullets fly past her, colliding with the mutants behind her before she heard a thud and flesh scraping along stone.


    A fate that she would share.


    The thrusters, having been pushed to their limit, finally shut down. Despair filled her as the ground came up to meet her, and she tried curling into a ball to mitigate the incoming damage, but she knew that there would be no way that she¡¯d survive the impact. At the speed she had been going¡­ Well, at least she had tried to survive, Cat hadn¡¯t given up, but her luck had finally given out, after everything.


    Her vision blurred as something wrapped itself around her, her guts lurching as she was pulled out of motion suddenly. The force of her stoppage nearly knocked her unconscious and her rations nearly spilled from her mouth. Before she could see what had happened, she was in motion again, feeling giant hands clutching her. Could that be Hoplite? But that was impossible, he had been by the gate taking shots at the jumpers¡­ So what had caught her.


    When the blurriness left her eyes, she came face to face with a bulging purple chest, spirals etched into the skin. One of the infected had caught Cat right out of the air and was going to drag her off to brutalize her. She let out a scream of terror, trying and failing to kick free of the mutant as it sped off.


    Gunfire echoed, sounding oddly closer now that she was being taken away. Cat barely managed to turn her head, seeing that the mutant had been running now away from Hoplite, but toward him. Thirty-Seven didn¡¯t seem to be aiming at the infected that held her for some reason, instead firing past it and into the crowd behind it.


    ¡°I have her!¡± The creature holding her shouted, ¡°I¡¯ll put her in the wagon!¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, Halm, pull it out of the gate and hold off the horde there, I will stay here to draw them until the area is secure.¡± Hoplite replied quickly, taking aim at the gathering horde behind them.


    ¡°There are thousands!¡± The monster, Halm replied.


    ¡°Do it now!¡± Hoplite shouted, firing off more rounds, ¡°I will be fine!¡±


    How in the hell did this backwater world mutant freak know Hoplite?


    ¡°Hand her to me Halm, I got it from here!¡± Harrison said, ¡°Just get the wagon past the gate like he said, we don¡¯t wanna get caught on all sides!¡±


    The giant complied, handing her to private Higgins as if she weighed no more than a doll. Harrison took her in his arms, cursing as the heat of her jets likely seeped through his own armor. He was a big man, with a dark beard and piercing blue eyes¡­ wait, she¡¯d seen him on the Sparrow before, always boxing with¡­ ugh, Nasty Nate. Honestly though, she was glad to see him, and hell, she¡¯d be happy to see Nate too at this point, even with his reputation.


    ¡°We gotta get these jets off ya Ortega,¡± Harrison said, laying her flat as he began fiddling with her boosters, disconnecting them before gently nudging them away.


    The wagon kicked into motion then, quickly moving back toward the gate as the roar of the mutants closed in. There were other faces here too, the local personnel that she¡¯d been told about. There was a blonde man with a red headband, a couple women, one with blonde hair and¡­ pointed ears? Certainly not as odd as the man with red skin and horns though, that one looked like a real-life devil. She caught a glimpse of two others, a pale man, a woman with raven-black hair, and an old-timer, all with weapons drawn¡­ Well, save for the old guy.


    He was asleep.


    The blonde woman rushed over, wearing plate-armor straight out of medieval times. Cat blinked slowly as she leaned over her, the woman wincing after putting a hand to Cat¡¯s forehead.


    ¡°I can heal her, but she¡¯s been burnt badly, there¡¯ll be scarring for certain.¡± She said to Michael, who waved a hand.


    ¡°Just do it now, she''s about to pass out!¡± Michael shouted.


    Was she? Cat did suppose that she felt a bit faint¡­ a bit woozy too. She wouldn¡¯t complain if someone gave her some water.


    ¡°She¡¯s going to fall unconscious no matter what I do, she¡¯ll need rest after this.¡± The blonde woman replied, raising hands over her face. ¡°Afina, let her be healed so that she will be tranquil in life¡­¡±


    A cool warm glow then emanated from her palms, and the pain in her back subsided, her legs and hips too eased, the melted flesh feeling like it was reforming in mere seconds. Blackness enveloped her vision, soon overtaking it completely as she fell into blissful unconsciousness.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: Loose-Leaf No More

    Lance goggled at the horde pouring through the streets as Halm shoved the wagon back past the gate, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The new Outworlder lay flat in the wagon bed, her breathing shallow but steady. She would be safe in here, but not if they couldn''t defend this point. The potential anguish that Hoplite and Michael would feel if she died strengthened her desire to protect this woman, though Lance didn¡¯t know her. In truth, they could all die here¡­ Oh who was she kidding?


    Death would be a lucky outcome if they couldn¡¯t hold off the Fiends.


    Halm huffed and turned, slamming a fist into his open palm with a sneer. The sound was like a hammer hitting an anvil, indicating that, like Tuji, the Fiend possessed steel flesh. It was both a relief and a terror to have to fight beside this creature, if his pains became too great then Halm would turn against the party¡­ yet he wouldn''t be attacked by the incoming horde, as he was one of them, and even if he did, his steel flesh would protect him from their blows.


    Despite that, they couldn¡¯t rely on him to stop the horde from overrunning their position, the Fiends wouldn¡¯t be drawn to attack him as they did Hoplite, and Halm wouldn¡¯t be able to stop them all. The best thing to do would be to fight and hope they could last, and with her chains, she¡¯d be able to hold her own.


    She just needed to find out how they worked first.


    Lance hopped down from the wagon, drawing her blades, her breathing shaky. She was nervous of course, facing a horde of fiends on the bridge was one thing, but an entire city''s worth was a tad above her paygrade. She¡¯d not run away now though, she¡¯d not hide in the back and be a burden.


    The rest of the party, save for Michael and Elum, quickly dismounted the wagon, forming a line in front of the vehicle. Lance herself ended up toward the middle, beside Twindil, the paladin¡¯s massive greatsword drawn as she glared forward, a look of grim determination set on her face.


    Lance¡¯s blades felt heavier than they normally did, due to the extra weight clinging to her forearms. This would slow her significantly unless they unraveled to defend her, and she dearly hoped that was how they would work. As soon as she had the thought, the first of the Fiends staggered around the corner of the gate, roaring angrily as they charged directly for them. Halm batted them aside with his massive fists, their bones reduced to powder as they went flying across the cobbles, their flesh scraping off until they finally collided with one of the two open doors of the gate with a splat.


    She readied herself as the crowd grew from tens, to hundreds, Halm unable to keep up the the sheer volume of creatures pouring through. He still battered away at the beasts wildly, sending them flying to collide with other bodies with wet crunches. A large glowing green ball then flew over her head, landing a dozen paces in front of the battle line with a splash. A green liquid sizzled where it had impacted, and every Fiend that stepped foot on it screamed in agony before falling directly into it, their skin melting off and blending into the flesh eating acid.


    This toppled a dozen of the monsters, and still Elum hucked out more acid, forming a line between their group and the incoming horde. While that happened, Alistair chanted, summoning forth the angel Baomiel in a burst of Golden Flame. The creature cracked its human neck, its ape-like lower arms hurling it forward to crash directly into the nearest Fiends. It was like watching a gorilla smashing into a crowd of goblins.


    The others began their shares of the fighting too, Michael taking shots from the wagon, Nolvi beside him staring at the horde with her strange version of Dok-ah, Alistair swinging his hammer, Kid¡¯ka dodging and swiping as Lance herself did¡­ Everyone fought, save for the new Outworlder and old Theopalu. He¡¯d never been this useless when he was still on duty back in the Faewood, so why did he laze about this way now!?


    Any negative thoughts toward her colleague was interrupted when finally a Fiend reached her, arms outstretched with palms wide open, its gnarled fingers seeking to rip the skin from her face. She steeled her nerves and waited for the chains to take effect, her terror briefly overtaken by her curiosity. Would they lash out? After the creature came within five paces, she found that they had left Lance to die on her own, apparently unwilling to do their damn purpose! She slashed through the creature''s hands, parting the palms from the fingers and sending it into screeching agony.


    It collapsed in front of her, weeping for its fresh agony. Quickly she stomped on its temple, the bone crunching inward and making the monster still. It didn¡¯t kill it of course, but any body needed a brain to move, cursed or no. Despite the thought, the twitching corpse still undulated in her general direction. The sight was nearly enough to make her gag, but her time fighting with Hoplite had toughened her guts somewhat. Still, no brain should have meant no motion¡­ right?


    Then again, Michael seemed to function just fine without one, so who knew?


    She shook her head. Wise cracks weren¡¯t going to get these chains to work. If they didn¡¯t work automatically, then perhaps she needed to will them to move? Lance focused, trying to make the metal links slither free from her arms¡­ only for nothing to happen. They hadn¡¯t moved at all during the entire time they¡¯d been bonded to her, save for when they first crawled upon her limbs.


    Twindil had suggested that it could seek to serve Lance differently then it did Tolak¡­ but what else would these things be good for? She grunted as she cut down another few Fiends, the weight of the chains hindering her blows. Why wasn¡¯t it working? They had ¡®chosen¡¯ her right? So why did they refuse to work!? It was almost enough to make her want to cry in frustration; of course as soon as a way to catch up with the others presents itself, it turns out to be useless.


    Just like her.


    Lance¡¯s teeth grit as she dismissed the thought. Self-pity had no place on the battlefield. Her shoulders began to burn the further she fought, the muscles unused to the added weight of her swings. Soon she was huffing and puffing, face red with effort and frustration as she both struggled to stay alive and figure out how to use the chains. She found herself with her back to the wagon, leaving her space in the battle line blank. Twindil moved to fill the space as much as she could, her greatsword a whirlwind as she bisected every challenger. She barely looked fatigued at all, even fighting with that weighty blade and clad in plate-armor she was indefatigable.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Relief flooded her as well as shame. She was safe and could take a short breather¡­ yet that only made the burden on the other front-liners greater. She cursed at the chains as the horde grew ever larger, the sound of gunfire drowning out everything save her own thoughts. The ringing in her ears was a familiar sensation now, it didn¡¯t bother her in the slightest. What did bother her was taking this impromptu break while everyone risked their lives! She never should have taken these stupid things, she was more a burden then ever with them, they were just dead-weight.


    Just like-


    Her face hardened and she stood tall, taking another breath before readying herself to dive into the fray. Before she could do that however, she saw something¡­ flying overhead right over the horde. No one else looked up to see it, being too busy with the foe before them. At first, she didn¡¯t know what she was looking at, but as it drew closer, terror and realization both filled her. There were Fiends that could fly!


    The creature bore down on her, its feet seeming to strike the air to keep it aloft. Almost as if it were jumping on the air itself. It seemed more put together then its lesser comrades below, its movements more calculated. If she didn¡¯t see the purplish skin, she¡¯d almost think it wasn¡¯t a Fiend. It¡¯s gaze landed squarely on Lance, locking eyes with hers.


    Now that it was closer it could she that it grinned, a nasty smile filled with yellowing teeth. She could read malevolence in its borderline-lucid eyes, that, and the pure desire in its gaze. It seemed that it had made her out to be an easy target. She gripped her blades tightly in her hands as it kicked off of nothing, catapulting itself toward her with furled fingers, ready to rend. It sped toward her like a bullet, air filling its cheeks and sending them flapping as it let out a shrill scream.


    This was it, she needed to move now; if she couldn¡¯t get her arms up in time, she was finished.


    Instinct took over, and¡­ somehow, the chains began to shift. Instead of moving to knock the creature out of the air however, they wrapped around the hilts of her daggers, holding them firmly in place. Without thought,  she hurled the blades toward the beast, not with her arms, but with her will. The tips of both blades pierced the creature''s shoulders, and its face went from victorious, to agonized. She focused her will again, but also grabbed onto the chains, yanking them down forcefully and bringing the Fiend plummeting down to the stones below.


    Just before impact, the blades retracted from the things shoulders with a wet pop, and its head hit the ground right in front of her. The skull was pulverized into a gory paste, the force traveling up the neck and snapping it backward before the spine too gave way, cracking and forcing the body to fold in half. It fell over unceremoniously in the puddle of gore it had created, twitching.


    She had expected to feel disgust at the mess she¡¯d made of the Fiend¡­ but in truth, she only felt one thing. A grin spread across her face as she moved toward the crowd, the chains firm around the hilts of her blades once again. She threw the blades forth again, impaling another Fiend before they retracted back to her hands.


    She felt¡­


    Twindil spared a glance behind her for an instant, her eyes going wide as she saw Lance¡¯s face. The blades launched passed the paladin again, each one impaling a face before again they returned to her, and she lashed out again moving forward, into the battle-line. Here she could be more free to swing them about. She swung her arms horizontally, the chains whipping into the crowd of Fiends, the links clotheslining dozens of them as the blades parted the flesh of those at the end of its reach. Suddenly there was a massive gap now, about thirty paces worth¡­ more room for her to experiment. She moved forward, past the battle-line. Twindil said something, as did some of the others but¡­ Lance couldn¡¯t understand them.


    She felt¡­ euphoric.


    She swung more, harder, more intensely, the chains and blades clearing a valley between the wagon and the gate. The hundreds that had poured in were soon on the ground, with broken bones and severed limbs. Somehow, she was aware that her blades were changing too, though she knew not how or why. They whipped about her like a dervish, aided by her pulling the chains in the directions she desired. All was a blur of purple, red, and gray around her, bodies collapsing, flesh tearing, her weapons singing in sync with her heart, all while that smile never left her face.


    ¡°I can keep up now!¡± She laughed as a skull was bisected, ¡°Won¡¯t be a loose-leaf  anymore!¡±


    More of the jumping Fiends appeared, but those were handled much the same as the first, her blades cleaving them out of the air and making it rain dark blood around her. She swung, she killed, she laughed. Was this what Hoplite felt like fighting these things, knowing that no matter what they couldn¡¯t hurt him? It was so invigorating! The fighting seemed to last forever, the chains finding fresh victims every time a new monster rounded the corner. Soon the battle-line was behind her, and empty¡­


    She had taken on all the work with ease, now the others could take a break. They still tried to approach, likely to try and assist her with the fighting, but the whipping blades likely made them wary. She didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone by accident¡­ so it was for the best that they stay back. Eventually, the waves stopped pouring in from the open gate of Akan-Var, and Lance found herself heaving, drenched with sweat and covered head to toe in dark blood.


    As the euphoria faded with the end of the fighting, she found herself shaking, her legs wobbling as they struggled to hold her aloft. The chains may have done the majority of the fighting, but she had still had to swing them by the ends of the chains. The exhaustion of the conflict had been completely suppressed by the joy she¡¯d felt. Now that it was the end, she was made all too aware of how tired she was.


    A pit was in her stomach, her throat ached for water, her muscles demanded rest, and her lungs burned as she sucked in as much air as was possible. Her vision started to narrow as a figure entered her view, towering over her.


    ¡°Lance?¡± Hoplite asked, his monotone carrying an undertone of concern.


    ¡°I did it.¡± She replied after a moment, ¡°It didn¡¯t take that long, huh?¡±


    ¡°It''s been an hour.¡± He told her before she fell backward, her legs refusing to hold her upright any longer.


    A massive hand caught her before she could collide with the stones, and Lance felt herself being hoisted upward.


    Now two of those massive hands held her, and she heard him say ¡°Are you injured?¡±


    Lance smiled, ¡°Not in the slightest, just tired.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He replied, ¡°I¡¯ll take you back to the wagon and get you some water.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d make for a good butler, you know that?¡± She told him between ragged breaths, ¡°Or maybe a knight? A knight who takes care of the ladies¡­ha¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re delirious.¡± He replied, ¡°You¡¯ll need a drink and some calories, and I¡¯ll ask Twindil to have a look at you.¡±


    She smiled and leaned her head back in the crook of his elbow, content to let him dote on her.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Unsalvageable

    After stowing the nigh-delirious Lance on the wagon, Hoplite turned, readying himself in case another horde arrived. He¡¯d disabled thousands of them by the time they¡¯d arrived, but the sheer size of Akan-Var likely meant there were far more approaching. The fighting had attracted the ones in the immediate vicinity of the gate, but the sound of gunfire could have carried further than that.


    Hoplite frowned as he remembered the cursed Eighth Arm personnel he had been forced to dispatch¡­ Marines, divers, exo-troops, there had been around one hundred of them in that crowd. He had been too slow to get here, he had wasted far too much time¡­ had he not succumbed to the drink back in the Faewood, how many more could have been saved besides private Ortega?


    It was hard to say, but this didn¡¯t have to be the end for them. With Twindil here, she could ease their pains and bring them back to sapience; they weren¡¯t dead, after all, owing to the curse. Perhaps one day a cure could be discovered, but otherwise they¡¯d not be allowed to leave this planet. Jyn would not-


    Hoplite grit his teeth, turning his thoughts away from that subject as he approached Twindil, bracing herself against the side of the wagon as she gasped for breath. The fighting had been long and arduous, it was impressive that she even remained on her feet.


    ¡°I have comrades among the Fiends.¡± Hoplite told her, ¡°Would you be able to provide them care?¡±


    Twindil¡¯s head lifted, staring into his helmet with unfocused eyes, ¡°I can¡­ but if they are too mangled then there is only so much I can do.¡± She said, huffing and puffing, face still red. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to do anything if they¡¯ve been pulped or their head has been removed¡­ At least, I don¡¯t think.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°Elaborate.¡±


    ¡°This is uncharted territory for healing spells,¡± She explained, ¡°As far as I know, nobody has ever tried to heal a Fiend before me. Besides that, whenever healing is used, it''s on people that can be saved.¡± She said, coming to stand straight, her legs wobbling slightly as she continued, ¡°A man who has been run through by a blade can be saved by healing, as can someone who¡¯s had their throat slashed, assuming the healer is quick enough¡­ Fiends though? The healing that I¡¯m capable of cannot restore limbs, much less a head. If your allies are too mangled, I¡¯m afraid to say that there¡¯s likely nothing I can do.¡±


    Hoplite nearly cursed at himself for his lack of restraint. He should have considered that possibility! His fists clenched as he remembered the dozens of soldiers he¡¯d just finished off, now permanently incapacitated¡­ Still though, there had to be a few that had been disabled in a lesser capacity, there was still a chance.


    ¡°Can you try?¡± He asked her, ¡°And if that fails, there has to be some left that can be brought back, maybe some you¡¯ve all dispatched?¡±


    ¡°Possibly,¡± Twindil said, ¡°Keep in mind though, I cannot cast such a spell one after another, I would be at risk of Singeing myself.¡±


    ¡°Singeing?¡±


    She wiped some sweat from her brow before answering, ¡°If one uses too much Foundation at once, or for too long, they become at risk of Singeing. Essentially, crippling your capacity for magic permanently. If it''s too intense, the Golden Flame will burn you out entirely, and you won¡¯t be able to call on Foundation ever again. That is¡­ if it doesn¡¯t just kill you outright.¡±


    So there was a limit to these spells. This explained why Alistair or Elum never continuously used their most devastating spells in battle. They could cripple their capabilities or even perish if they pushed themselves too hard.


    ¡°Sorry to say this, Hoplite, but I cannot put myself at risk for your allies¡­ I¡¯ll try and find whoever is salvageable and do what I can, but only within my limits. I am nearly to the point of Singeing already, once I reach that threshold I will cease.¡± She said with a nod.


    ¡°I understand.¡± He said, ¡°Please do what you can.¡±


    Her abilities were far too useful to lose on this operation, best to let her stay within those limits. A look of shock crossed Twindil¡¯s face a moment before it was replaced with a smile.


    ¡°What is it?¡± He asked her.


    ¡°Nothing¡­ I just don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve ever heard you say please before. It¡¯s a nice change of pace.¡± She said, moving past him to survey the battlefield.


    Was that really a good reason for that expression? He¡¯d thought they were being attacked again, speaking of which¡­


    ¡°We can¡¯t stay out in the open for long, more could be on the way.¡± He told her.


    ¡°Of course, but I believe that, for now at least, we¡¯re safe.¡± She replied, not turning to look at him.


    It was possible that there¡¯d be no more combat today, but the possibility was low at best. This wagon and the squad would need to retreat somewhere out of sight. There had to be shelter in the city where they could lay low, the squad was too tired for another conflict this soon. Preferably they would be able to cart the wagon with them, but the mountains of bodies left in the way would make that difficult.


    There were thousands of still-writhing bodies that the wagon wheels would have to cart over, and that would not be optimal for preserving its functionality. It was their lifeline, all their supplies were onboard, food, water, munitions, if they couldn¡¯t take the wagon or if it got damaged, the operation would be doomed. They could retreat back onto the bridge, but the last rest-stop was a day away from here. By the time they returned the gates could be flooded with a fresh new horde. The only way was to push through the fallen with the wagon and hide in a secure location. Thankfully he knew a solution for this, if Alistair was still able to utilize his Foundation.


    The blonde man stood not far-off, hands on knees as he struggled to regain his wind. Hoplite approached him, looking him up and down for any injuries as he did so. Had he received a wound, he likely would have informed Twindil immediately¡­ but it put Hoplite at ease seeing that he¡¯d not taken a single hit. The abilities of Twindil and her party were clearly well-beyond standard human parameters, any normal person would have at least taken a scratch during that scuffle. And yet¡­ from what Hoplite could see, they were fine. Why were they so unnaturally powerful? Was it their usage of Foundation? Or was it something else entirely?


    ¡°Are you still able to cast?¡± Hoplite asked, stopping a few feet away from him.


    ¡°Nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh ¡®still able to cast¡¯¡± Alistair mocked between heaving breaths, ¡°Give me a damn second!¡±


    Hoplite didn¡¯t believe he¡¯d ever been spoken to like that before. It was irritating.


    ¡°Just answer the question.¡± Hoplite replied curtly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine after I catch my breath,¡± He said in an annoyed tone, ¡°Why do you ask?


    ¡°We¡¯ll need you to clear the bodies for the wagon. I¡¯ve seen how Fiends react to raw Foundation, they disintegrate instantly.¡±


    ¡°Well I-¡± Alistair started in an annoyed tone, before continuing flatly, ¡°No, you¡¯re right¡­ the wheels aren¡¯t going to appreciate rolling over all that.¡±


    ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Once you catch your breath, clear a path I can move the wagon through. I request however that you do not burn away any of my fallen comrades.¡±


    ¡°If they''re dressed in enough black metal I¡¯ll know they¡¯re Outworlders¡­ Are you telling me not to because of Twindil¡¯s healing?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He replied, turning toward Halm.


    The gigantic Fiend seemed no worse for wear, his knuckles dripping with dark blood as he profusely began apologizing to his fallen kin. He had been near Lance when she had gone on that rampage with her chains, it was surprising to see that he bore no new injuries from that. Then again, like Tuji, he had flesh as hard as steel.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Halm. I see you didn¡¯t betray us after all.¡± He said.


    ¡°Of course not, Twindil saved my very soul itself from madness, I¡¯d not even dream of it.¡± Halm said, sounding a tad offended. ¡°How may I help?¡±


    ¡°Go keep a lookout for any more Fiends that might be approaching, if you see any, alert everyone immediately so we can form a retreat, everyone else is too tired to keep fighting right now.¡± Hoplite ordered.


    ¡°Makes sense to me.¡± Halm replied, turning away from him, ¡°Just listen for my roar, you¡¯ll be able to hear it.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied, turning to approach the wagon once more.


    Elum and Michael were now inside the wagon, sitting close to the coach. Elum was shaking, a hand clutching his graying arm. Michael himself just looked relieved, no doubt glad for the lull in combat.


    ¡°Private, what are our stocks of ammo?¡± Hoplite asked as he drew closer.


    ¡°Sir, we still have plenty, but I used up a few hundred rounds for the rifles.¡± He replied after a moment of thought.


    ¡°To be expected private, how is Ortega doing?¡± He asked, peering into the wagon bed between the two men.


    ¡°Stable sir, still breathing.¡± Michael replied with a thumbs up, ¡°Glad we got here in time.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, and Elum, did you take any injuries? You are trembling.¡± Hoplite asked, tilting his helmet in the Ifrit¡¯s direction.


    ¡°No I-¡± He stammered, gasping, ¡°I nearly Singed myself- I cannot cast anymore today.¡±


    ¡°Rest.¡± Hoplite said, going around to the back of the wagon.


    There, beside the recuperating Ortega, lay Theopalu, snoozing away as usual. A useless sack of meat incapable of pulling his own weight for this entire trip. His hands clenched as fury filled him, urging him to crush the elf¡¯s head as he slept. He still didn¡¯t understand why he felt this way about the old Watcher, but he¡¯d need to suppress this killer instinct. However, that did not mean that he needed to be polite.


    ¡°Wake up.¡± Hoplite said harshly, barely keeping the growl from his tone.


    Theopalu remained asleep, his loud, unbearable snoring a contrast to Ortega¡¯s soft breathing. Hoplite took a breath to steady his nerves, reaching out toward Theopalu¡¯s shoulder, gripping it firmly. It took all he had to not crush it in his hand. Thankfully, he restrained himself, simply shaking the elf until he finally woke up, eyes bloodshot.


    ¡°Bwah?¡± Theopalu asked, ¡°Have we arrived already?¡± He asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.


    ¡°Yes. Now do your job and help us find the best route.¡± Hoplite ordered, ¡°If you fail to accomplish this task, you will be denied food and water.¡±


    ¡°Aye, fair enough.¡± Theopalu replied, quickly standing ¡°Time to get to it then.¡±


    He was surprised that the elf was so ready to do his mission, considering how unbearably lazy he¡¯d been up till now. Perhaps the threat of taking away his rations was what whipped him into shape. Hoplite would need to remember this in case Theopalu tried to laze around in the future.


    ¡°First things first, we got to see where we are¡­¡± Theopalu began, cracking his back, ¡°Then I just got to remember where the nearest tunnel is.¡±


    ¡°Tunnel?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°If you mean a sewer, there¡¯s no way we¡¯d be able to bring the wagon with us.¡±


    ¡°Akan-Var has a vast network of tunnels beneath the stones, some of them have been around since before the city was built, but there are plenty that are even older than that. Big enough for hundreds of people to pass through, it¡¯s known as the Akan-Dark, that is where we¡¯ll be going. There¡¯ll still be Fiends of course, but less than what we¡¯d find on the surface.¡±


    That was the longest sentence that Theopalu had ever spoken in his time knowing him, and Hoplite hated every single word that poured from his vile mouth.


    ¡°How deep do the tunnels go?¡± He asked, reigning back the irritation.


    ¡°Deep, very deep. I once ran a very lucrative smuggling operation through them, there were too many for the Block-Lords to guard them all, hehe¡­¡± He chuckled, eyes becoming distant, ¡°Hard to believe that it¡¯s been two-thousand years since then, I hope I still remember the paths right.¡±


    ¡°You better.¡± Hoplite said curtly, walking around the wagon once more.


    There were more useful things to do than listen to an old man reminiscing about his worthless life. While Hoplite truly did feel this way¡­ he still didn¡¯t understand just where this hatred for Theopalu had come from. He¡¯d been pondering it for the past few days ever since his humiliating show of weakness, but still he could not think of a rational answer. His blood literally came to a boil around him, his veins becoming hot like magma.


    Such a thing only happened when he was near the peak of his anger, and even that rarely happened. There was something unnatural about Theopalu that provoked this reaction¡­ He stopped in his tracks as a possibility crossed his mind, one that nearly caused him to run back and snap the elf¡¯s neck.


    Could he be Kazon?


    It could be¡­ what if he had infiltrated Twindil¡¯s party to spy on them, or sabotage things from within? It could almost make sense, were it not for two major flaws. One, Lance had known Theopalu for over a century, and he¡¯d stayed in the Faewood for the majority of that time. Two, no one else was afflicted with this particular rancor, only Hoplite was.


    It was possible that Kazon was impersonating him, after all Theopalu had left the Faewood on a ¡®vacation¡¯ that had lasted over twenty years. Who was to say that there wasn¡¯t shapeshifting magic? Maybe the feeling was locked onto Hoplite specifically because Kazon wanted him to look like a lunatic in front of the squad¡­ but there was still a problem with this theory even considering that.


    Why on Earth would Kazon ever do this? There was no real reason to, at least, there was not one that Hoplite could perceive. Yet, if that were the case¡­


    Then the hatred was Hoplite¡¯s own, there was no outside influence forcing him to despise the old man. There was Twindil¡¯s tranquility field to consider, but if anything, that was only mitigating his wrathful urges. What would happen should Twindil deactivate that spell? Would he launch into a frenzy and tear Theopalu apart right there? It was admittedly a satisfying thought, and the fact that it was satisfying to think of made him uneasy.


    Yet¡­ thinking of such things was a far more preferable alternative to another, more unnerving thought that had been struggling to form since his breakdown. As long as he didn¡¯t acknowledge it, didn¡¯t think of it, it would never come to be.


    Now, Theopalu had mentioned that there were tunnels that led beneath the city. If he had run a smuggling operation here before, then it was likely that they would be able to take the wagon with them that way. It was non-negotiable then, if they didn¡¯t have the wagon, the mission would fall apart. However, if they went below ground, there was no guarantee that he¡¯d be able to pick up any radio transmissions from Ternan survivors.


    It was possible that a few had survived un-cursed up till now, as Ortega had, but she could be the only one who had made it this long. Another thought struck him then, what if they had found these underground tunnels and had retreated below? If there really were less Fiends down there, it would be the optimal place to escape to¡­ yet the survivors would not have had that intel.


    Either way though, there was only one viable option. They had to go through the tunnels. He¡¯d brief the squad on the Final Kind¡¯s forces so they could be prepared in case they ran into a contingent of them. There had been plenty of cursed Final Kind amongst that horde, if any in the city lived through the initial chaos of their landing, they may have fled below also.


    If Ortega woke up soon, he¡¯d brief her on the situation and then question her for the whereabouts of her escape pod. The potential for extra food and munitions for the mission could not be ignored. He strode past the wagon again, approaching Twindil as she knelt beside a cursed Ternan marine she¡¯d picked out from the bodies. He was a large man, wild eyes focusing on Twindil as his shattered arms flailed uselessly toward her.


    She turned at hearing Hoplite¡¯s approach, frowning, ¡°This is one of the more intact ones I found, at least at a glance. There¡¯s too many bodies to sift through unfortunately, I don¡¯t believe we have the time to spare on a more thorough search.¡±


    She was right of course, but a part of him did want to remain longer, to find more fallen Ternan¡¯s and heal them back to sanity. If Twindil had no limits on how much she could heal, then he might have insisted that they pull back onto the bridge as he brought back the fallen for her to heal. Key word being might; the possibility of another horde approaching still weighed on his mind.


    ¡°So he is salvageable?¡± He asked her, staring down at the flailing Fiend.


    The surface of the marine¡¯s black armor was worn, clear evidence of scratching and battering plain to see. Blunt force was still pain, just because there wasn¡¯t direct skin contact didn¡¯t mean that the Death-Spiral wouldn¡¯t take route¡­ he would need to keep this in mind going forward. If he faced a Fiend like Tuji¡­


    ¡°Perhaps, but¡­¡± Twindil said, lips pursing, ¡°We must consider the strain on their psyche from being in pain for so long. A day of torture could be too much for a normal man to bear, this person could have been in pain ever since we met. Nearly a month of unceasing agony may have driven him mad.¡±


    ¡°Halm was fine.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°Now, please heal him.¡±


    ¡°Halm is not ordinary.¡± Twindil said, ¡°He is possessed of an extraordinary mental fortitude, there¡¯s no guarantee that any other Fiend could recover as he had.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying you won¡¯t heal him?¡± Hoplite asked, eyes narrowing.


    ¡°I will,¡± Twindil replied, ¡°Just¡­ just be ready.¡± She warned, turning back to the collapsed marine. ¡°Afina, let this man be healed so that he may live in your tranquility¡­¡± She chanted, holding her palms out toward the Fiend.


    A warm golden glow then emanated from her hands then, the glow then shifted, flowing over the marine as it knitted his shattered bones back together. Bruises disappeared and the lacerations on his face became faint scars. The marine inhaled sharply, all four of his limbs going rigid as his eyes found the sky. When the flow of magic ceased, Twindil fell forward, catching herself on her palms with shaky breaths.


    ¡°It seems I wore myself out more than expected but¡­ it is done.¡± She said, voice wavering.


    ¡°You should return to the wagon then, I will brief this marine on our current situation.¡± He told her, kneeling beside the man. ¡°What is your name and rank, soldier?¡± He asked.


    The marine said nothing in reply, simply sucking in air as his wide eyes remained locked on the sky above.


    ¡°Marine?¡± Hoplite asked, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. ¡°I am Hoplite Thirty-Seven. I¡¯ve come to rescue you and the others stranded in this city.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t reply with words. Instead, he simply turned, curled up into a ball, and hugged his knees to his chest. All further attempts from Hoplite to communicate with him¡­


    Were fruitless.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: Pillar-Church

    Hoplite pulled the wagon forward as silently as he could, nearly the entire party walked by themselves, forming a circle around the wagon. Everyone¡¯s eyes, even Nolvi¡¯s, kept their eyes peeled for any approaching Fiends. Theopalu walked ahead of Hoplite, occasionally pausing here and there before nodding to himself and picking a new road to tread down. These ancient cobbled streets were disheveled and damp, the bright sun overhead becoming occluded by a thick blanket of dark clouds. Many of the buildings were constructed of stone, the weathering over the millenia having taken their toll upon their cracked surfaces.


    Many of them were already half-fallen apart, having collapsed in on themselves long ago. Hoplite briefly wondered as to why Akan-Var hadn¡¯t been re-taken by nature, before he remembered the nature of the Death-Spiral curse. No new plant life could grow on this abandoned continent, it could only persist and suffer, like everything else. This meant that Akan-Var was only subject to weathering from the elements, greatly extending the ruined cities lifespan. At least, that was what he assumed.


    Despite how abandoned this place seemed, it was hardly lifeless. The trip through Akan-Var had been an enduring trial for the squad, there was always another Fiend rushing after them as soon as it saw them, desperate to end its own suffering. Hoplite let the others take care of the strays, focusing purely on pulling the wagon and following Theopalu


    It had been hours since they had set out from the gate, and the party was still very weary from the massive battle at the gates. Halm had volunteered to set forth and cripple as many of his kind as was possible as well as returning on occasion to warn Theopalu away from certain paths. Massive hordes still wandered the city after all, and with the party¡¯s current state, they¡¯d be overwhelmed and cursed. Hoplite himself could still fight, and indeed he had considered moving to eliminate these hordes before they could become a problem¡­ yet doing so would leave the squad here without protection.


    It was best to let Halm scout and Theopalu lead while he pulled the wagon, that way if another massive force came he¡¯d be able to hold them off while everyone else made a retreat. The old elf had better know where he was going¡­ The day was starting to get late, and those clouds were only looking heavier as time went on. It might be best to find shelter for the night, somewhere secure.


    ¡°How far are we from the nearest entrance?¡± Hoplite asked Theopalu, reigning in his irritation.


    ¡°Well¡­ I would have to say at least five hours away, if we keep at this pace.¡± Theopalu replied, ¡°It will be dark by then, perhaps we ought to find shelter. I know of a Pillar-Church nearby, we can rest there.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative. Take us there.¡± Hoplite replied curtly.


    ¡°Kids these days.¡± Theopalu replied, shaking his head as he veered right, ¡°Never say ¡®please¡¯ anymore¡­¡±


    Hoplite didn¡¯t reply. If he did he wouldn¡¯t have anything professional to say.


    ¡°Is this truly a safe place?¡± Twindil asked, quickening her pace beside the wagon, ¡°A Pillar-Church is a place of pristine beauty, with stained glass and heavy wooden doors¡­ I don¡¯t think it would be the most secure building to take shelter in.¡±


    ¡°It could have collapsed already, for all we know.¡± Alistair said from behind them, ¡°It''s been over two-thousand years, and besides, there are plenty of other places here we can rest in. Why not just stop here?¡± He asked, pointing to a squat stone house, ¡°There aren¡¯t even windows on this one.¡±


    ¡°The Pillar-Church will be best.¡± Theopalu replied, ¡°I¡¯m assuming we want to bring the wagon in there with us, after all. That door on that warehouse is far too small for the wagon to fit through, the church¡¯s door is far more accommodating. As for windows, this one has none.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Twindil asked, ¡°Every church I¡¯ve been in has had several stained windows, why would this one be any different?¡±


    ¡°It was erected after the end of the Ninth Godling war, by survivors that lived to remember that strife. Back in the day, a place of worship was seen as a place that should be secure, rather than pretty.¡± He then gestured at the building surrounding them, ¡°Look at what buildings remain intact here, solid stone, with few if any windows.¡±


    Hoplite understood the desire to rest in a safe location, the battlefield offered very few safe places to do so. Considering these people''s perspective, after enduring an age-ending Godling War, it was only logical. Looking at the buildings more closely now, he could almost see the fear of the former populace reflected in the city''s architecture. They were built almost like primitive bunkers, the stones gray and dreary. It almost reminded him of his days in training¡­ when he lived in the bunker with Commander and the other Hoplite candidates.


    Like a bunker, this was a place that had been built to last, made to be a sturdy shelter first and foremost. He hated these gray lifeless streets, the squat stone buildings that took him back to that place¡­ He shook his head, turning his mind away from those dark thoughts. Akan-Var was the polar opposite of the Faewood, there was no brilliant greens or bounding wildlife, just a cold husk.


    Michael cursed as a Fiend ran around the corner in an alley, charging straight for him with gnashing teeth and reaching hands. It looked like Halm had missed this one. Hoplite didn¡¯t cease pulling the cart, seeing that only one of the mutants had appeared. There was no reason for him to stop for this. He was proven right when Michael duped the creature, walking closer before dodging out of the way of its tackle.


    It crashed into the stones with a cry of agony, a sound that Hoplite had become familiar with in this dreaded place. Michael kicked it in the back of the head before it could rise, and then shattered one of its legs, wincing as he did so. The creature still wailed despite the fresh crack in its skull, and the marine opted to simply crush its head beneath his boot. It was a sickening crunch that cut the weeping short, but instead of looking relieved¡­ Michael looked sickened. Whether it was at his own actions or the sorry state of the Fiend, Hoplite could not say.


    If there were any massive hordes nearby, they apparently didn¡¯t react to shrieks of agony. Considering that it was a constant and likely familiar noise to them at this point, it wasn¡¯t shocking. Indeed, he could hear weeping now, some louder, some more silent, in the distance, the cries of the infected, eternally ignored by their peers.


    ¡°Hoplite?¡± Twindil asked suddenly, drawing him from his thoughts, ¡°What do you think?¡±


    He¡¯d become lost in thought yet again, this was becoming a worse problem as time went on.


    ¡°Of what?¡± He replied.


    ¡°Staying at the Pillar-Church?¡± She asked him, cutting down a staggering Fiend as she did so.


    ¡°Affirmative, I haven¡¯t picked up any new signals since we¡¯ve arrived and you all need to rest.¡± He told her in his monotone.


    ¡°I find it interesting that you don¡¯t want to try and reach the tunnels first, you always seem like you want to get things done in a timely manner.¡± She said, sheathing her blade.


    ¡°I do, but that doesn¡¯t mean putting the squad in jeopardy. We might have to fight another horde before we reach our destination, and none of you are in any condition for that kind of battle.¡±


    Twindil smiled, ¡°I agree whole-heartidly, you think Lance will be awake by time we get there?¡± She asked, nodding her head toward the wagon, ¡°I think that¡­ you said her name was Ortega? Will likely be unconscious for a long while, but Lance should be fine soon.¡±


    ¡°Lance should be operational by morning.¡± He replied.


    On his rear-view camera he spotted Halm, rounding a corner from a wide street and spotting them. He waved before forming an X with his broad fingers. It was unsafe to traverse down that path. Twindil gestured for the Fiend to draw closer, to which he did, jogging forth almost merrily as he went. It seemed that he was enjoying being a part of the mission, or quest, as Halm would say.


    ¡°Yes, what is it?¡± Halm asked in a low rumbling whisper.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to set up camp for tonight, we¡¯re trying to find a secure place for lodgings. We¡¯re getting close I think, I believe it would be best if you-¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± Theopalu said suddenly, stopping in place before turning toward the building.


    Like Theopalu had said earlier, this squat sturdy building bore seemingly no windows. Just a set of heavy looking stone doors. Hoplite would need to be the one to open it most likely, those doors had to weigh literal tons. They were twice as tall as he was and just as broad, there was no way this could be simply pushed open by anyone. Well, perhaps Halm could as well, it was hard to say. Maybe there had to be a team of people working together to open it back then? Or perhaps there was a switch somewhere within that could be flipped, though such mechanisms most likely no longer functioned, if they were even present to begin with.


    The stone doorframe was vaulted toward the top, the only sign of decoration on this drab building. The bunker- Pillar-Church, was spartan in its appearance, the stone worn nearly smooth from millenia of neglect. He hated the very idea of entering it; it was like The Child within his psyche was screaming that he should not enter, that Commander would be there, waiting for him with The Chair. The Soldier however, spoke reason, reaffirming with cold logic that this would be the safest place to camp for tonight. The Child¡¯s fear still ate away at that discipline, but it eventually relented, giving power back to The Soldier once more.


    ¡°Yep, this one right here, I remember specifically that all nine Pillar-Gods have a shrine here¡­even Ankoriss.¡±


    Twindil spat on the ground, ¡°The one who brought about the end of the Ninth Age has a shrine in a church of the survivors? It is insulting.¡±


    ¡°Please reign in your anger, the shrine within was only built to make sure that Ankoriss did not grow jealous of the other Pillar-Gods. The survivors had suffered at his hands enough, they merely didn¡¯t want to draw his ire.¡± Theopalu said, raising his hands to try and ease her.


    The ninth Pillar-God was the God of Destruction, Ankoriss. From what he had learned, his sect and Afina¡¯s were at constant odds with one another. It made sense, as chaos and destruction were the polar opposite of tranquility. Twindil seemed to share in this sentiment.


    ¡°And, please, leave his shrine be.¡± Theopalu asked, ¡°He is one of the more¡­ proactive Pillar-Gods, best not to make him an enemy.¡±


    Would Ankoriss quite literally descend to confront them if his shrine was defiled? Fighting a demi-god had been difficult enough, but a full one? That might be too much for him to handle, that is, unless the God of Destruction wasn¡¯t bulletproof. It would be best not to find out. He would need to make sure that Twindil stayed away from it just in case¡­ Look at him, worrying over whether or not a deity would come down to smite him. Where was the logic in that? Out the window, along with his certainties¡­


    ¡°Let''s head inside.¡± Hoplite said as he heard another Fiend approaching, ¡°The longer we stay exposed, the more Fiends will find us.¡± He finished right as Alistair crushed its head with his warhammer.


    He rolled the wagon forward, approaching the looming stone gates before coming to a halt. Hoplite ducked beneath the pull-bar, approaching the massive doors and placing both hands at the split between them. He dug his heels into the worn stone at his feet and pushed, the doors eventually swinging completely open to reveal a large empty chamber. At least, it was almost empty. There was no furniture to speak of, and the only light present was what entered through the now-open doorway. Michael would need to keep his flashlight on again, this environment would likely trigger his nyctophobia otherwise. Indeed the marine flicked it on even before entering the Pillar-Church.


    Upon further inspection, he could see that the chamber wasn¡¯t as barren as he had initially believed. At the far end of the room were two passageways, with the one on the right having a staircase. Likely that was for roof access or it led to a church officials office. The one on the left didn¡¯t seem to go anywhere, meaning it had stairs leading down or it was an oddly-placed closet. Besides the passageways though, were the altars.


    Lined up on the far wall were several statues, nine of them in all, with three being significantly larger than the rest. The three giant statues were set into the wall, behind the smaller ones which sat in their own separate niches. The other sculptures were also set into their own niches in a part of the wall that jutted forward. These must have been depictions of the Pillar-Gods, there were nine statues in total, with the three heads of the Pillars set above the rest.


    Hoplite wasted no more time staring, pulling the wagon inside until it was in the center of the room. The party had formed a rear guard behind the wagon as Hoplite had done this, ensuring that no more Fiends would follow them in. All things considered, Hoplite was shocked that none were present in the building. This had been a place of worship after all, had there been no devotees fleeing to beg their gods for protection?


    He supposed there still could be a couple in here, either upstairs or through the passage on the left. He could study the statues further after he cleared the building properly¡­ first though, the doors would need to be shut again. There was a very low likelihood that the doors could be pushed open again from the outside, it would take someone as strong as himself to do so.


    After he closed the door, he quickly went to work, informing the party to check the doorway on the left while he took the one leading upward. Theopalu, of course, simply laid down on the floor, curling in on himself before his awful snoring emanated throughout the Pillar-Church. Hoplite hunched down to pass through the doorway, awkwardly climbing up the stairs on all fours as he ascended.


    The steps were too small to accommodate the width of his feet, so he had to opt for this¡­ less dignified approach.


    Once he reached the entrance at the top, he poked his finger out of the doorway, activating one of the micro-cameras. A third screen split his standard view, the feed showing what lay on the other side. He twirled his finger in the air, seeing none of the air-jumping Fiends. Those ones seemed more lucid than their peers, if one saw Hoplite while he was on the roof, it could leave and draw a horde to this location.


    Sure, Hoplite could shoot the creature out of the air, but doing so would also draw a horde here. He had made sure Michael understood not to fire off any ballistics unless absolutely necessary for that exact reason. Once he was sure the area was relatively clear, he awkwardly fit his bulk through the open doorway, seeing a completely smooth square shaped stone roof, and not much else. It seemed this really was merely roof access, as he suspected. This opening to the church was still a problem however.


    The jumpers could surely reach this place if they somehow found out about who dwelled within, there would need to be someone posted on the stairs tonight just in case. If Lance awoke soon she would be the best candidate, considering that she hardly needed to sleep. It was interesting that she was still out cold, she¡¯d slept earlier this week already¡­ though, after the strain she put her body through, it was no real shock that she had fallen unconscious. There was a term for pushing oneself so hard that they had no calories left, a strange one at that.


    Apparently, it was called ¡®boinking¡¯. He¡¯d heard marines talk before about it, how they had boinked so hard that they could hardly stand afterward. He¡¯d seen several soldiers get to that point after the end of drawn out battles. Perhaps boinkings full meaning was ¡®post-battle fatigue¡¯? It was hard to say, especially since he had heard no one had ever actually use the term when on the field. Hoplite would have Michael clarify it for him later, just in case it carried a different meaning than what he expected. It was marine slang after all, it could mean anything.


    He crawled back into the doorway, awkwardly scrambling down the stairs in a crab-walk before re-emerging into the main chamber. The squad seemed to have already scouted what lay beyond the second path. They all stared at him wide-eyed, their lips contorting in a strange manner as he finally made it through the cramped space. It seemed like they were fighting their own faces, trying to keep them from lifting. Was some kind of face-paralyzing disease spreading amongst them? If so, then why was Halm not affected? The curse did not immunize him to diseases.


    The giant Fiend looked more¡­ empathetic?


    Suddenly, Elum burst out laughing, his face finally giving up the battle. Soon, the others too began laughing, all except Twindil and Nolvi, who simply gave wide smiles.


    Michael put a fist to his lips and shook his head, trying to suppress the laughter that filled his words. ¡°Sorry sir,¡± He said, eyebrows knitting together above that smiling face, ¡°I just never thought I¡¯d see ya like that, never in a million years.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t fit.¡± Hoplite replied.


    This opened him up for another barrage of laughter, and for some reason, Hoplite felt like diving for cover. His face grew hot with what he now knew was embarrassment, but he did not flinch. Thankful for his helmet, he simply ignored the laughs, walking toward them all silently as they finally began to regain their senses. The smiles were still there though, with the occasional laugh still escaping from Elum¡¯s nose.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°What is through the other path?¡± Hoplite asked, shoving his embarrassment down.


    Michael cleared his throat, trying his best to eliminate his smile. It didn¡¯t work, but Hoplite appreciated the effort, ¡°Just an empty room with a stone desk sir, but we found a book in there on top of it, didn¡¯t even have dust on it.¡±


    A book? Intact without even a speck of dust on its surface? After millenia in isolation? It made no sense, that book should have disintegrated years ago if it had really been left alone. Clearly this meant that someone had been to this church before them, and had inexplicably left it here when they left. It must have been fairly recently too, considering that there had been apparently no dust upon its surface.


    ¡°It''s a tome, with a spiral upon its surface. It may have something to do with the curse, so I advised everyone to not tamper with it, just in case.¡± Twindil said, the smile leaving her lips, ¡°Such things are a bad omen.¡±


    Nolvi ever-so-slightly flinched at those words, but Hoplite wasn¡¯t sure as to why. No one seemed to have noticed the motion except for him. The girl''s eyes shifted from the floor over to the open doorway for a brief instant before returning to the floor. Did she have an interest in the tome, despite the potential danger it posed?


    ¡°Are you saying the book is magical?¡± Hoplite asked.


    Elum nodded, clearing his throat, ¡°More than likely, best not to interact with it at all, especially since it has that spiral on it. Bad news if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°Then let''s dispose of it,¡± Hoplite said, moving past them.


    ¡°No!¡± Alistair shouted after him, ¡°Who knows what¡¯ll happen if we tamper with it, it¡¯s best to simply leave it be.¡±


    ¡°It could be trapped.¡± Nolvi said softly, ¡°It¡­ disturbs me.¡±


    ¡°I-I agree,¡± Kid¡¯ka stammered, ¡°There¡¯s just something wrong about that thing, go take a look and you¡¯ll know what we¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite said, leaning down to move through the passage.


    It seemed this really was just a sort of office after all, with a gray stone desk sitting squarely in the center of a small chamber. Upon its surface sat a massive book, bound in leather with a spiral etched upon its surface. Like everyone had said, there were no signs of decay anywhere on the tome, not even dust. He nearly flipped open the first page before he caught himself. Who knew what sort of problems should arise should he open this anomalous book?


    Considering the fact that it bore a spiral, it was certainly linked with the curse in some way. Opening it might cause infection or worse. The Phalanx suit could repel basically anything, but its reactions to magic were a total unknown. Could it filter out magical curses? It was hard to say, but Hoplite wasn¡¯t willing to test it out. Alistair was correct, the best move would be to simply ignore it. It could be a trap set here by Kazon or one of his troops, his instincts screamed that this was so.


    He saw Alistair move into the room, taking up a place beside him as the two men stared down at the book, ¡°Baomiel also told me this thing was bad news, and he¡¯s never been wrong before.¡±


    ¡°Baomiel isn¡¯t here, you dismissed him after the battle at the gate.¡± Hoplite stated, tilting his helmet toward him.


    ¡°He is always with me, I can hear him in my mind whenever he¡¯s not in physical form.¡± He replied, tapping his temple, ¡°All Atheyare are bound with a being from the astral plane, the bond works the same for everyone of my race.¡±


    ¡°Atheyare?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°I don¡¯t have much intel about them.¡±


    ¡°I can regale you if you¡¯d like¡­¡± Alistair said, his eyes shifting to the book, ¡°But not in here, I feel like it''s listening to us.¡±


    Hoplite wished that he could disagree with that assessment. The two of them left the room, re-entering the main chamber where he saw the squad already at work setting down bedrolls and readying a cooking pot. Even with those bedrolls these uneven stones wouldn¡¯t be comfortable to sleep on, it would be better to set them up inside the wagon. Maybe they just wanted to give Lance and Ortega space to recuperate.


    ¡°We don¡¯t really have all that much to do now aside from setting camp, and I miss home, so if you want to hear about my people I¡¯m more than willing to share.¡± Alistair said, moving toward the back of the wagon.


    Hoplite followed after him, watching the man unload his own camping supplies before hauling them over toward where the others were setting up, ¡°My people live in caravans, we trade everything under the sun, save for slaves of course.¡± He unrolled his bedding, setting it on the floor haphazardly before he cracked his back with a groan, ¡°I¡¯ve been trading since I was five years of age, stuck with my caravan for my whole life until very recently¡­¡± His face then became hard for a moment, an icy glare penetrating the floor a moment before he shook his head, ¡°I was exiled from home, and here I am.¡±


    ¡°What is your people''s connection with the angels?¡± Hoplite asked as Alistair pulled out a wooden plate and fork from his bag.


    He twirled the fork in his hand a moment before answering, ¡°Not sure. Our race has been around since the First Age, the reason has been lost to history.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask Baomiel then? Wouldn¡¯t he know something?¡±


    ¡°In terms of angels, Baomiel is a baby, he''s only about two-hundred years old or so, and there aren¡¯t any angels from the First Age left to tell the tale. I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± Alistair continued tapping the end of his fork on his temple, ¡°But the angels can die too, just not in the conventional way. Technically the forms of the First Angels still exist within the astral plane¡­ but they¡¯re husks of what they once were.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°Are you saying they¡¯re comatose?¡±


    ¡°In a sense, yes.¡± Alistair replied, sitting down on his bedroll with a sigh, ¡°When the Atheyare the angel is bound to dies before Severance¡­ it causes serious trauma to their spirit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m assuming that ¡®Severance¡¯ involves ending your pact.¡± He said, ¡°Is this a lifelong commitment or is it contractual?¡±


    ¡°Both.¡± Alistair said with a small laugh, ¡°It varies from person to person and angel to angel, but in my experience it is usually a lifelong bond.¡±


    ¡°What do the angels get from this?¡± He asked, ¡°This relationship seems to only benefit you, as you can summon Baomiel whenever you wish and have him fight on your behalf.¡±


    ¡°Again, it varies from angel to angel. The original reason for these pacts has long been forgotten, but we¡¯ve managed to come up with new ones. Baomiel for instance simply wants to fight on the mortal plane, no more, no less.¡± Alistair then sighed, ¡°I¡¯m lucky to have such a simple pact, others of my people have more complex and binding pacts they have to adhere to, or else they would face severe consequences.¡±


    ¡°Like having horrible hair and a bad attitude,¡± Elum remarked as he passed them by, ¡°Like you.¡±


    ¡°Nuh nuh nuh ¡®like you¡¯¡± Alistair mocked, ¡°Shut up.¡±


    The Ifrit ignored the prodding and he made way toward Twindil and the others, who still busied themselves with setting camp.


    ¡°Why do you talk to each other like that?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°It is immature.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been like that since we were kids.¡± Alistair said with a shrug, ¡°Hells, most people would still consider us kids, me and him are only nineteen.¡±


    Michael was around that age wasn¡¯t he? Perhaps that was why his attitude could border on unprofessional? No, there weren''t excuses for bad behavior, no matter the age. Commander had taught him that much.


    ¡°Since you were children?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°He¡¯s not Atheyare, he¡¯s an Ifrit.¡±


    ¡°My caravan would make routine stops by his hometown every now and again¡­ it was always awkward trading with those folks, but Elum was there at least.¡± Alistair said, looking over his shoulder to the party, ¡°That¡¯s how I met all of them to be honest, it wasn¡¯t just Elum. Twindil, Nolvi, Kid¡¯ka; all of them used to live in Umant.¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s brow furrowed. Lance had told him about that place, a city of humans that had been built within the Faewood, despite the efforts of the Watchers to drive them out. Their leader was a man named Creetan, a man of great magical power, and one that had been alive for hundreds of years. He knew that Twindil had been from there, but these others were as well? From what Lance had told him, it was a place that put down anyone who wasn¡¯t purely human.


    Elves got the worst of it apparently, treated as slaves and having their ears surgically clipped to humiliate them. Those of other races weren¡¯t much better off, but a second-class citizen was still above a slave. Why then were Twindil¡¯s ears not clipped as soon as she was born? Was it because she was half-human? It was hard to say, but asking her may bring up memories she¡¯d rather leave forgotten.


    ¡°Whenever my father wasn¡¯t putting me to work, I was playing with them. I wasn¡¯t allowed to leave my caravan, but any Umanti citizens could come and go from the caravans to trade as they wished. Elum and the others would come to window-shop a lot, since they didn¡¯t have any money, which is how we all met.¡±


    ¡°I was under the impression that Umant was isolationist, not letting anyone come or go.¡± Hoplite stated as Alistair used his fork to pull a piece of salted meat from a sack.


    ¡°They are, oh they absolutely are, but trade is the lifeblood of any good nation, and they were no exception. Our people are the only ones they¡¯re willing to trade with, as long as we follow their conditions.¡± He explained, taking a bite out of the jerky, ¡°We couldn¡¯t bring in literature from the outside or even speak about it to the locals, if any of us did, any that heard would be executed and we¡¯d be driven out of Umant forever.¡±


    A dictatorship then, Creetan clearly didn¡¯t want his people knowing that the outside world held other opportunities aside from serving him. Funny¡­ funny that this should remind him so much of the First Arm. He stopped that train of thought before it could fully take off, distracting himself with another question.


    ¡°Why would the Watcher¡¯s let you through to reach Umant?¡± He asked, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t they be opposed to you trading with their enemies?¡±


    Alistair nodded, swallowing the jerky before he said, ¡°Absolutely, but we have a special treaty with them that allows us to pass through the Faewood unmolested, so long as we follow the rules of the forest. You know, no hurting the trees, no aggressive behavior toward any elves, and no establishment of permanent dwellings. We trade with the elves too of course, and while they aren¡¯t completely reliant on us, they still love seeing what the world outside their forest has to offer.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t they forbid you from trading with Umant?¡± He asked, ¡°It is illogical to allow merchants the chance to re-supply the enemy in your treaty.¡±


    ¡°Simple, Umant didn¡¯t even exist when the Atheyare and Faewood signed it, though they do make sure to let us know that they don¡¯t approve of our dealings.¡± Alistair replied, taking another bite. ¡°I know what you''re thinking,¡± He continued between chews, ¡°Why not void the treaty or try and add on to it? Well, our pacts work differently than other peoples. This isn¡¯t something sealed by paper or blood, it was a pact sealed between the Harkmother and our caravan leader, using the angel Titan as a sort of¡­ notary, I suppose you¡¯d say. If either side breaks this pact, Titan will wreak destruction on whoever betrays it.¡±


    ¡°Is Titan really capable of such a thing?¡± Hoplite asked.


    Baomiel was an impressive force in combat, but completely trampling the Faewood and destroying the Atheyare, who have other angels, seemed to be an impossibility.


    ¡°Absolutely.¡± Alistair said after taking a swig from his canteen, ¡°Titan is one of the Third-Born, an ancient angel from the Third Age. Angels get stronger as time marches on, so perhaps you can imagine just what Titan is capable of. You¡¯ve seen Baomiel fight, and he¡¯s only two-hundred.¡±


    It was an unsettling thought indeed, Hoplite could understand now why the elves didn¡¯t try to alter their pact with the Atheyare. Doing so may just spell their doom.


    ¡°It''s something both sides have a vested interest in maintaining, neither we nor the elves want to face Titan in battle.¡± Alistair said, standing up and pointing to the wagon, ¡°Looky there, your woman is awake.¡±


    On his rear-camera he could see Lance rising groggily from the wagon bed, clutching her stomach with a pained grimace.


    He turned away from Alistair to approach the wagon, ¡°Our relationship is professional.¡± He stated.


    ¡°Sure.¡± The man said, popping his back once more.


    For some reason that response irritated him, but Hoplite could not figure out the reason for it. Lance noticed his approach and smiled, though the expression was still pained as she grabbed her stomach.


    ¡°I am starving to death.¡± She said, ¡°I¡¯m going to die.¡±


    ¡°Unlikely, but take this,¡± Hoplite replied, handing her his canteen, ¡°Hydrate yourself first before you eat, it looks like Twindil is going to cook something.¡±


    Lance nodded gratefully, taking the canteen with both hands before unscrewing the lid. It was oversized in her tiny hands, holding at least a gallon of water within. Standard for a Hoplite sure, but in her hands it looked borderline comical. She lifted the hefty container, chugging down at least a quarter of its contents, gasping for air before handing it back. She went to wipe her mouth with the corner of her sleeve, but stopped herself, seeing that her cloak was covered in a layer of dried blood.


    ¡°I had almost thought that was a dream.¡± She said, looking herself over, ¡°I¡¯ve made quite a mess of myself.¡± She then ran a hand through her reddened hair, frowning before hopping down from the wagon, ¡°Even my hair¡­ By the Pillars it will be a while before I¡¯ll be able to wash this all out.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, the water we have must only be used for hydration, not bathing.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°But this could present a risk to your overall health, I advise wearing a different uniform and using a damp rag to clean yourself.¡±


    ¡°Need to use water to get it damp.¡± Lance remarked, trying to run fingers through her clumped and matted hair, ¡°If only my cousin were here with us, she¡¯d be able to clean everyone with a flick of her wrist.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to make do.¡± Hoplite told her, ¡°You brought a change of clothes?¡±


    ¡°Unlike you,¡± Lance replied, putting her finger right in front of his helmet, ¡°Normal people actually have clothes, so yes.¡±


    ¡°It is not necessary for-¡± He started before Lance cut him off.


    ¡°Yes yes, you don¡¯t need clothes and whatnot. A bunch of phooey if you ask me.¡± She said, ¡°I need to eat something this instant or I will die, I¡¯ll worry about cleaning myself later.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He said as she walked off toward Twindil, again grabbing at her gut.


    Everyone was awake now, save for Theopalu and Ortega. Ortega had a reason for being unconscious, but Theopalu as per usual was simply being lazy. He turned away from the irritating sight, looking instead to the statues that lined the far end of the chamber. All nine Pillar-Gods sat in their niches, with the top three standing taller than the rest.


    The largest one on the left side of the wall had to be Zodd, the Pillar of Might. As he had heard, he was depicted as a massive orc warrior, wielding an axe that was nearly as large as he was. Two sharp tusks jutted out from a powerful jaw that looked capable of grinding rocks to dust. A protruding cave-man-like brow shadowed his deeply-set eyes, ones that seemed to almost glow with battle-hunger in the dimming light. He flicked on his flashlight to illuminate the statue further, almost expecting its bald stone head to gleam. He heard Michael give a small sigh of relief as the room was lit up. As he suspected, the eyes didn¡¯t actually glow¡­ the artisan who crafted it was just incredibly talented. Like many statues from the early eras of Earth, the depiction was shown as completely naked, likely to illustrate the Pillar-God''s savage nature.


    On the right side of the big three was the depiction of an elf man in long flowing robes. His hair reached down past his pointed ears to rest on his shoulders, and he clutched a massive book in his delicately carved hands. The statues attention seemed purely focused on the book and nothing else. This depiction must have been Draoi, the Pillar-God of Foundation. For some reason¡­ Hoplite felt like the eyes were somehow staring directly at him. Though the eyes had been carved to look directly at the book, it still somehow appeared that Draoi could still see everything.


    Then, there was the final of the big three, who stood in the center. Saihara, the Pillar-God of knowledge, was a lean figure, with two ant-like antennae sticking out from beneath her short ear-length hair. Her eyes were completely black, an oddity among the collection of statues, as if they had been made of carved obsidian. Infinity seemed to lay just behind those dark voids, Hoplite found that he could not stare at them long. Her choice of clothing was strange as well, consisting of a long-tailed trench coat with belted trousers and a simple shirt. A massive square seemed to be strapped to her back, and upon further inspection, saw that it was a massive book. Staring at Saihara¡¯s tome for too long made his eyes ache¡­


    Perhaps he was just tired again, the need for sleep grew with every passing minute, and with this relatively secure location, he¡¯d need to rest. As he had that thought, the cracking of thunder sounded over the Pillar-Church, the overcast sky had finally decided to let loose. Everyone could both bathe themselves and refill their canteens depending on how intense the rainfall would be. Then again¡­ the curse could be present in the rain as well.


    Halm had become cursed because he had drank tainted water. His eyes narrowed as he thought on that. The infected had to always be living things, no matter what, nonliving matter couldn¡¯t spread the curse, so pure water shouldn¡¯t be able to spread it. The water that Halm drank could have had cursed parasites within, something the rain water would be clean of. He¡¯d need to run an analysis on the rain water first, just to ensure that it was pure. He didn¡¯t know if parasites could still be present in the rain, Ahkoolis could have some sort of creature that could be carried in vapor.


    He¡¯d have to discuss the idea with the squad before pursuing this, the risk of getting cursed was low, but it wasn¡¯t zero. Hoplite turned away from the statues, intent to share his hypothesis. However, before he could even utter a word¡­


    A figure materialized behind him, just in front of the statues. Hoplite turned quickly, drawing the Fortis and aiming it squarely at the figure¡¯s head. The dark-robed figure stood as tall as Hoplite himself, his face almost completely shadowed by his hood. The only thing that Hoplite could distinguish was the two yellow wolf-like eyes. They glowed in the dark, just as much as the stranger¡¯s silvery hands.


    ¡°Identify!¡± Hoplite shouted, ¡°Eyes over here! Potential hostile!¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The stranger said, his voice deep and rasping, reminding Hoplite of a serpent, ¡°They know me, quite well in fact. They are mine.¡±


    ¡°Shoot him!¡± Alistair yelled, ¡°Kill him now!¡± His voice was strained, filled with immeasurable wrath.


    He could see Alistair and the other¡¯s faces on his rear camera, twisting in anger as they glared at the new figure. Time slowed as Hoplite¡¯s co-processor kicked in, allowing him to consider his options. Every member of the squad, save for Lance, were all drawing their weapons. Michael looked a bit confused for an instant as he brought his rifle to bear, but soon recognition entered his eyes, his finger moving to the trigger before he began scowling. Theopalu no longer slept as he glared at the interloper, the old elf hadn¡¯t shown nearly this much animosity toward anyone or anything, frustratingly going at a relaxed pace no matter the situation. This robed man, for whatever reason, had somehow managed to upset him.


    The fact that Twindil and her companions were going on the offensive could only mean one thing¡­ That, combined with the fact that Hoplite had seen this man before on Michael¡¯s black box meant that this¡­


    Was Kazon.

 Chapter Twenty-Five: Ripening

    Hoplite fired the Fortis, the bullet phasing through the figure and impacting one of the statues behind him, blasting a wide hole through it. Hoplite was immediately filled with a horrible sense of wrongness, as if he had done something awful and wouldn¡¯t be forgiven. The Child nearly collapsed, ready to weep for mercy, but The Soldier held fast, and ignored the pointless emotion.


    He fired more, each bullet impacting the same statue as they continued to pass through the stranger. This was a waste of ammo, clearly whatever this was, it wasn¡¯t the real man. This was just an apparition, a decoy created with Foundation, similar to what Ferow¡¯s henchman had used back in the Faewood.


    He switched on his thermals, confirming that the figure before him bore no body heat. Still, it had to be of some substance, for it did appear on his motion tracker. Besides the party and the stranger though, no other signatures could be seen, at least not on this level. Was the original on the roof then?


    Despite seeing Hoplite¡¯s shots fail to impact, Alistair still ran forward, warhammer raised and face nearly crimson with rage. He swung wide, but again the attack failed, passing through and impacting with yet another statue. Alistair¡¯s attack crushed its torso inward, the upper half cracking off and falling forward. It nearly landed on him, but he managed to get out of the way before it could smash him.


    The entire squad then descended on the apparition, save for Lance and Theopalu, the former goggling with confusion at the figure while the latter simply glared. Nolvi stared, Twindil and Kid¡¯ka slashed, Elum and Alistair began hurling spells of acid and Golden Flame- but none of it worked as the attacks phased right through the projection. Halm, seeing the torrent of Golden Flame hurtling toward Kazon, took a hasty step back. Foundation would incinerate any Fiend to nothing if even a bit of it touched them, Hoplite had seen this on numerous occasions during his time with Alistair.


    ¡°I am not here fools!¡± Kazon shouted, ¡°This form bears no substance, your attacks are futile.¡±


    ¡°Give her back!¡± Alistair shouted, ¡°By the Pillars I will crush you and every single crony at your disposal; I¡¯ll raze castle Blackgaze to ash- I¡¯ll-¡±


    ¡°I see you have taken my words to heart!¡± Kazon yelled in a jovial tone, ¡°Very good, I¡¯d say at this rate you¡¯ll be ready in a matter of weeks.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be dead in a matter of days, devil!¡± Twindil shouted, ¡°Your time on Ahkoolis draws to a close!¡±


    ¡°You as well then, I assume the rest of you have also followed my advice. Such splendid students.¡± Kazon said, clasping his silvery hands together firmly, ¡°I have no doubt we¡¯ll meet again soon¡­¡± His hood then shifted toward Hoplite, ¡°And who are you? I¡¯ve not taught you anything.¡±


    ¡°You are to be executed for crimes against Eighth Arm personnel.¡± He replied flatly.


    ¡°Ah!¡± Kazon said, clapping his hands together once more, ¡°You must have been in that hollow steel asteroid then?¡±


    ¡°That was me you bastard!¡± Michael shouted suddenly, ¡°Who the hell do you think you are!? There were good men in that pod, they saved me, they woulda lived if you¡¯d a minded your own damn business! What did ya have to gain from that!?¡±


    ¡°Private-¡± Hoplite started before Kazon cut him off.


    ¡°I just wanted to see if I could do it.¡± He replied with a shrug, ¡°I¡¯m happy to say that the test was quite successful!; it even impacted with the Fiendwall and caused a great deal of ruckus. It was quite the sight!¡±


    Michael¡¯s face went pale, his blue eyes seeming to become disconnected with reality at the hooded man¡¯s words. ¡°You just wanted- You wanted to see what would happen?¡± He asked, his voice quavering, ¡°I¡¯m gonna make sure there ain¡¯t even bones left of ya when I¡¯m done.¡±Tone turning low and deadly.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± Hoplite asked curtly, keeping his gun level on the apparition.


    ¡°I simply wanted to remind you all of why you¡¯re here, you must stay focused on the goal¡­¡± He said, ¡°I¡¯ll be awaiting you all at Castle Blackgaze, by time you arrive¡­¡± He paused, his hooded head turning to Twindil, ¡°You should all be ripe¡±


    And just like that, Kazon was gone. There was no puff of smoke, no gradual vanishing or turning translucent. He had instantly vanished from the church, there wasn¡¯t even a sign of him on the motion tracker any more. He could see Elum, clutching his graying arm with a curse, the diseased limb twitching and seeming to cause him great pain. He managed to get the arm to cease its spasms after a few seconds, but the effort had left him covered in sweat.


    Twindil worked hard to steady her breathing and collect herself, her face having turned a bright shade of crimson when Kazon had appeared. Alistair on the other hand, still maintained his rage, head turning this way and that as he presumably tried to find Kazon. Kid¡¯ka simply stared at the spot where he¡¯d vanished, lips drawn to a tight line and hand gripping his sword, his knuckles going white.


    The others all looked similarly enraged or horrified to different degrees, but Hoplite himself? He felt¡­ strangely indifferent to Kazon¡¯s appearance. Hoplite wanted to neutralize him of course, but he felt no great wrath or fear at his presence. Theopalu seemed to feel the same, based on how he casually stretched by the wagon. At least, it was casual until the elder elf spotted the statue Alistair had destroyed.


    ¡°Oh, that is not good for whoever broke that.¡± He said with a wince, ¡°Who did it?¡±


    The destroyed statue, which sat in a niche just below Zodd¡¯s. It was an armored figure that had a horned helmet sitting atop a pair of wide shoulders. At least, the helmet was presumably there before. After being crushed by Alistair¡¯s hammer, the shrine had collapsed, with the horned stone head of the thing laying lifeless beside the ruin.


    ¡°It was me.¡± Alistair said, face grim.


    Theopalu saw this and groaned, ¡°You are going to have big problems soon, I¡¯d watch my back if I were you.¡± He said, pointing to Alistair, ¡°That was the shrine of Ankoriss, Pillar-God of Destruction. If you wanna live a long time then I suggest that you pull that statue back together and fall to your knees-¡±


    Alistair then crushed the head of the statue with his warhammer, sneering before spitting on the dust that remained, ¡°I don¡¯t kneel.¡± Alistair then breathed in sharply before his knees began to wobble, putting a hand to his forehead before backing into a wall.


    ¡°Alistair!?¡± Elum yelled, running over to him.


    The others of their group followed after the Ifrit, crowding around Alistair to try and seemingly examine him. Yet, instead of Twindil scattering the party to allow him room as Hoplite had expected, she began whispering to him. Lance, Michael, Halm, and Hoplite all stared, trying to discern what was being said. Lance likely could with her enhanced elven hearing, but Halm and Michael wouldn¡¯t be able too. What were they whispering about over there? He tuned in with his bionic ears, picking up on the hushed conversation.


    ¡°It takes an act of arrogance to get stronger,¡± Alistair rasped, ¡°You know that, I just took the opportunity-¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t worth it Alistair!¡± Twindil hissed, ¡°You may have grown more powerful from that little stunt, but the consequences will be dire for you.¡±


    ¡°Even if we did fix that stupid statue and cry for forgiveness, do you really think Ankoriss would let that slide?¡± Alistair asked, ¡°I can feel the power coursing through me now, I-I¡¯m dizzy from it.¡± He stuttered.


    ¡°If you had at least tried to bow and scrape, maybe you would have gotten off with a minor curse, with what you did, he¡¯s gonna send the Fists after us.¡± Elum said, pinching his brow, ¡°We¡¯re doomed.¡±


    ¡°Pansy.¡± Alistair commented, tone flat.


    An act of arrogance will make Alistair stronger? Was this something that only the Atheyare could benefit from, or was this strange ability tied to the use of Foundation? Considering the fact that they were all whispering about it meant they didn¡¯t want to share this knowledge with anyone outside of their group. Lance too seemed confused by this, moving closer to Hoplite. When she was right beside him, she sighed.


    ¡°That had to be the most terrifying moment of this trip thus far.¡± She said, ¡°The Lord of Hate himself appearing, even as an apparition, nearly made my heart stop¡­¡± She said, looking down at her shaking hands, ¡°What do you think it is that they¡¯re talking about over there?¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Not sure. They don¡¯t want us to know, based on their tones.¡± He replied.


    ¡°An act of arrogance?¡± Lance asked, Twindil looking back in shock.


    Right, she was half-elf, her hearing was perhaps on par with Lance¡¯s or his own. She quickly quieted the others, looking back again with a wide eyed stare. She seemed to be expecting Hoplite to do something, with the way she tensed up. Did she think he was going to go on the offensive? After a moment, she eased herself, moving over to the two of them with a withering glare.


    ¡°It is not polite to eavesdrop.¡± She said, ¡°People your age should know that.¡±


    ¡°Negative. I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s a bad thing.¡± Hoplite replied in monotone.


    ¡°No she¡¯s right¡­¡± Lance said ashamedly, ¡°It isn¡¯t a good thing to do, it violates privacy.¡±


    Hoplite still couldn¡¯t understand why privacy was so important to civilians. He had no privacy in his own life and it hadn¡¯t bothered him. Then again, it could be considered losing classified intel, so perhaps that was what Twindil felt.


    ¡°We won¡¯t pry.¡± Lance said, ¡°Sorry again, you¡¯re right.¡±


    Twindil sighed, looking over to the other statue that Hoplite had destroyed. It had been a tall woman, with long flowing hair and a face of serene calm, despite the holes blasted in its chest. A long robe covering it from neck to her sandaled feet had been carved into it, something that may have been ornate, had it not been ruined by the Fortis. He had a feeling he knew who that Pillar-God was. Perhaps Twindil¡¯s glare hadn¡¯t just been because of his eavesdropping.


    ¡°You ruined my ladies likeness, here in this sacred place.¡± She said, pinching the bridge of her nose, ¡°I will try and pray for you, Hoplite. There may not be anything to worry about, Afina is not vain like Ankoriss and wrathful vengeance is not tranquil. Leaving something like this unanswered though would stain her honor.¡±


    This might prove that Ahkoolian ¡®gods¡¯ were not all seeing and all knowing. Afina would have known and understood that it was an accident, and thus shouldn¡¯t be prone to anger from it. It may have been her shrine, but Afina was supposed to be the goddess of tranquility and peace. If Afina thought he had done it on purpose, then the Pillar-God''s view must be limited somehow. Then again, there was a chance that Afina knew this fact, but was still petty enough to seek retribution for this anyway, considering what Twindil had just said. Could Afina truly be classified as a god then, overreacting to a scenario that she had full context to? Hmm¡­ maybe he should ask Twindil for confirmation.


    ¡°It was an accident.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°If she can¡¯t realize that, then is she really a god?¡± He asked sincerely.


    Twindil¡¯s jaw dropped, ¡°Hoplite!¡± She shouted in exasperation.


    ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Lance whispered solemnly, hands fiddling with her chains with a nervous energy, ¡°Hoplite, you can¡¯t say things like that¡­¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ uh¡­¡± Michael began before whatever he was about to say died out in his throat.


    The others hadn¡¯t heard apparently, with most everyone still crowded around Alistair. Well, everyone save for Theopalu, who stared at Hoplite wide-eyed. Why did this question seem to offend them? That frustration began to bubble up within him, forcing his eyes into a glare beneath his helmet. Why did some of his questions provoke these reactions? It was aggravating beyond belief, he had not been trying to offend, it had been an honest question.


    Then it hit him. Questioning a deity¡¯s godhood would be akin to questioning an admiral¡¯s rank. If he had gone up to a commander like that and had asked ¡®Are you sure sir? You seem more like a private.¡¯ This same thing might happen, if not worse. How could he mitigate the damage his question had caused? Apparently the Pillar-Gods were capable of bestowing curses, and Hoplite would not allow himself to become crippled for this mission.


    ¡°I apologize, Afina, Pillar-Goddess of Tranquility.¡± Hoplite said, cringing internally at the words.


    Twindil and Lance both goggled at him, now both of their jaws agape. Again he had offended them! What could he say that wouldn¡¯t provoke anger from those around him!? Perhaps it would be better to simply not speak unless necessary, if his words hurt so much. Yet, as he had the thought, his mouth had begun to open, seemingly against his will, ready to launch into an angered tirade. Thankfully, Twindil spoke before he could.


    ¡°I apologize as well, Hoplite.¡± She said quickly, ¡°I misjudged you, your question was surely innocent.¡± She then bowed deeply, ¡°It wasn¡¯t from a place of arrogance, just genuine curiosity.¡±


    ¡°...Affirmative.¡± Hoplite said, regaining control of his emotions, ¡°I don¡¯t know the limits of her abilities and simply wanted to ask.¡±


    She stood back up then, tucking her hair back behind her ears, ¡°She would certainly know about this situation, I guarantee that Afina knew it wasn¡¯t on purpose¡­ but think about it, if someone came into your home and broke a vase you own, wouldn¡¯t it be expected that the guest apologize for it?¡±


    That did¡­ make a surprising amount of sense actually. If that were the case, then he¡¯d take care of his previous offense now. He couldn¡¯t risk becoming cursed, the mission would be potentially doomed.


    ¡°Afina, Pillar-Goddess of Tranquility, I apologize for destroying your shrine.¡± Hoplite said in his monotone.


    Strangely, that awful feeling he had seemed to vanish, instead being replaced by an odd warmth that spread from his shoulders and down to the small of his back. It felt¡­ pleasant.


    ¡°Thank you for your humility in this, Hoplite.¡± Twindil said with a smile, ¡°Afina is forgiving, unlike Ankoriss, her opposite.¡±


    ¡°...You¡¯re welcome.¡± Hoplite said, relishing the warmth spreading through his back.


    It felt so¡­ good. He found himself desiring to feel this way forever. The Child welcomed this sensation with gusto, while The Soldier tried to shake free of this alien intrusion. Then, just as suddenly as it came, it left. The Child wept for its absence, while the Soldier was grateful to be back to normal. Lance moved closer to him, standing on her tippy toes to stare deeply into his helmet.


    ¡°What?¡± Hoplite asked her, remaining motionless.


    ¡°I¡¯m inspecting you.¡± She said casually, ¡°Just making sure that you aren¡¯t a homunculus that took my friend¡¯s place when I wasn¡¯t looking.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± He replied, taking a step back, ¡°Everyone, come here!¡± Hoplite yelled. When the entire squad finally gathered around, Hoplite continued, ¡°We need to leave this location.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°It''s not safe here, my gunshots may have alerted a nearby horde, and Kazon knows we¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Not trying to dispute this decision, for I agree, but Kazon has likely known we were here ever since we stepped foot into Akan-Var, maybe even before that.¡± Twindil said, crossing her arms, ¡°The noise may have reached a horde though, so perhaps it would be best if we left quickly.¡±


    ¡°The shot was inside the Pillar-Church,¡± Kid¡¯ka remarked, ¡°It probably don¡¯tn¡¯t- didn¡¯t reach that far. I don¡¯t think we have to retreat.¡±


    ¡°Is that a risk we can afford to make?¡± Twindil asked, ¡°It may have been muffled but by no means do I believe it was fully contained.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t afford another trip outside right now.¡± Lance said, indicating the massive sealed stone doors, ¡°No Fiend is getting through those, and who¡¯s to say they would know we were in this particular building? As long as we stay quiet from now on, the horde might pass us by.¡±


    ¡°Remember those jumpers?¡± Alistair asked, ¡°The roof is wide open and those ones are smart, they¡¯d search inside any building they could to find a potential victim.¡±


    ¡°I can stay out on the rooftop and bar the door with¡­ well, myself.¡± Halm said, flexing his massive arms, ¡°No Fiend would bother trying to get past me, both because I¡¯m all but impossible to move, but also because seeing one of their fellow¡¯s idle would show that there was no one around.¡±


    ¡°Negative,¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°That would secure the roof, but the doors could still be breached by a Fiend your size.¡±


    Halm then narrowed his eyes, smirking and jutting out his jaw before sucking in his cheeks to accentuate his cheekbones, ¡°There are no Fiends that are my size, believe me.¡±


    Hoplite then looked to Lance, who was staring into Halm¡¯s eyes, ¡°There¡¯s nothing there but absolute and utter confidence, if you¡¯re all wondering.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you need Dok-Ah to see that.¡± Elum remarked, ¡°But he does have a point, there likely isn¡¯t any Fiends near strong enough to move that gate, and if Halm blocks the upper level, jumpers can¡¯t get in. I say we stay.¡± He finished, rubbing at his eyes, ¡°I don¡¯t think I can take another jaunt out there right now.¡±


    Hoplite found himself agreeing with Elum. With roof access blocked off and the gates being too heavy to move, the best option would be to rest here for the night. There were no windows after all, and like Lance had mentioned just a moment ago, there was no way the Fiends would know which building they were actually holed up in.


    ¡°What do you think, sir?¡± Michael asked, ¡°Think it''s good? Know I could use some shut-eye myself.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, we¡¯ll camp here and continue in the morning.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Me and Halm will clear the streets before we leave, if a horde is present.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± Halm said, ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll all excuse me, I gotta go be a door.¡±


    With that, he left awkwardly crawling through the doorway before presumably scrambling up the stairs as Hoplite had to earlier. With that done, everyone continued to make camp, still somewhat shaken up by Kazon¡¯s appearance, if Hoplite was reading their grim expressions right. Hopefully a good night''s rest would bring their moods back up, if they even could sleep after this experience.

 Chapter Twenty-Six: Cat鈥檚 Awakening

    The night had gone by quickly, and now everyone was readying camp and packing everything back into the wagon. Despite coming face to face with Kazon, the party seemed to all fall asleep easily, save for Twindil and Lance, their elven genetics allowing them to stay conscious through the night. Even Hoplite himself had slept after a while, his heavy eyes having become far too annoying to continue dealing with.


    The heavy rainfall last night served to be a boon for them all, especially Lance, who had left her bloodied clothing on the roof overnight to be washed. Everyone else had done the same as well, leaving Halm in charge of cleaning them. The orc hadn¡¯t seemed to mind the task, a good thing, for none of them could afford being exposed up there, save for Halm. A couple buckets had been placed out on the roof as well, to collect the rainwater. It should be clean of contaminants, but Hoplite had checked with the analyser in his finger, just to be safe. Once he confirmed it was clear of contaminants, Kid¡¯ka had volunteered himself to test its safety.


    Seeing that the man hadn¡¯t been cursed, they refilled their water supply and took turns using the extra water to bathe in the back room. The curse could potentially spread through filth, but there were other problems that could happen if hygiene wasn¡¯t properly maintained. Right now, it was Nolvi¡¯s turn in the chamber, but she had been taking an inordinate amount of time to get it done.


    Alistair huffed as he heaved up Hoplite¡¯s shoulder-plate, with Michael standing by, ¡°See,¡± He breathed, straightening his back, ¡°I told you I could lift it.¡±


    ¡°Alright, put it on his shoulder now, tough guy.¡± Michael said, ¡°Do you even know how to get it on there?¡±


    ¡°This is a pointless contest.¡± Hoplite said flatly, eyeing the two men with narrowed eyes, ¡°Simply slide the pauldron into the groove until you hear a click.¡±


    ¡°Sorry sir,¡± Michael said, ¡°He was telling me those must be light if someone like me could pick em¡¯ up, so I told him to go try.¡±


    ¡°They are light, at least to me.¡± Alistair said, heaving the pauldron onto Hoplite¡¯s shoulder, ¡°When you grow up one day, perhaps you¡¯ll be as big and strong as me.¡±


    Why was he letting this stupid competition take place? This was his armor, and Alistair wasn¡¯t Eighth Arm personnel. Did he want Michael to conserve energy for the day¡¯s trek? The marine was already sweating from helping Hoplite don the rest of his armor, so that could be the case. Yet that still didn¡¯t seem quite right to him. As Alistair struggled to fit the pauldron in place, Hoplite found himself observing how he held it. That piece was probably just as heavy as Alistair himself was, and yet he held it with such relative ease¡­


    Committing an act of arrogance had apparently made him stronger than before, and looking at him now, that seemed to be the case. That must have been the real reason he let Alistair handle the pauldron instead of Michael, it had nothing to do with the marine¡¯s exhaustion, Hoplite had merely wanted to see how easily Alistair could handle the weight. While he was physically stronger, this growth in strength made itself known in more subtle ways.


    Alistair seemed lighter on his feet and quicker to react, it wasn¡¯t just physical power. This either had something to do with Foundation or his genetics as an Atheyare, but whatever it was, he didn¡¯t want Hoplite or the others outside his party to know about it. If he asked Alistair for clarification that may cause friction amongst the squad, best leave it alone¡­


    For now.


    When finally the pauldron clicked, Hoplite stood, nodding to Alistair before moving toward the back room, where Nolvi was currently bathing. She had been in there for far too long and it was close to being time to leave. He and Halm still needed to clear out the exterior of the church, but they needed to leave immediately afterward, he¡¯d just make sure Nolvi understood that.


    He stopped right outside the doorway, knocking on the wall before saying, ¡°Nolvi, it¡¯s time to be done.¡±


    ¡°Normally,¡± Twindil said, moving to stand beside Hoplite, ¡°I would assume she was just relaxing, but scrubbing down with a cold rag isn¡¯t something to enjoy. Nolvi!¡± Twindil yelled, ¡°Please hurry.¡±


    No answer. Hoplite and Twindil looked at each other then, his helmet still held in the crook of his arm.  Another moment passed, before the two of them called out again, once more they received no answer. Hoplite donned his helmet as Twindil rushed into the room, following right after her.


    It was empty, with only the two buckets and the dozens of damp rags adorning them left. Nolvi was gone, and that wasn¡¯t the only thing missing. The spiral tome was gone as well, had it fallen on the floor? No, the book wasn¡¯t the priority right now. A squad member had gone missing somehow. Had they missed her? Was she already in the wagon? He should have noticed her leaving¡­ but maybe he had been too focused on Alistair?


    Yes, that must be it, ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Hoplite told Twindil, ¡°She¡¯s probably in the wagon. I suggest you search for her, and I¡¯ll look for the book.¡± He said.


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± Twindil said, letting out a sigh, ¡°She must be asleep right now. She better not be thinking about bringing that cursed book with us, I will not allow it.¡± She said with a small huff, crossing her arms.


    ¡°I agree.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Go check, I¡¯ll see if it fell on the floor.¡±


    She gave a quick nod before spinning on her heel, leaving the chamber before Hoplite rounded the table. Yet, when he scanned the floor, he saw nothing. Hoplite checked beneath the table as well, but still nothing could be seen. He then looked in the buckets of dirtied water, but it wasn¡¯t there either. This could only mean that Nolvi had the book.


    ¡°Nolvi!¡± He heard Twindil shout, ¡°Where are you!?¡±


    Hoplite left the room, his concern growing when he heard panic beginning to creep into her voice. Once he emerged, he saw the entire squad, save for Theopalu and Ortega, searching around for Nolvi. If he hadn¡¯t responded and wasn¡¯t clearly visible in this area, then she had to be on the roof. Why Nolvi would do this, he didn¡¯t know, but she¡¯d be exposed up there. He rushed over to the stairway, awkwardly scrambling up the steps and emerging outside. Halm was no longer at his post, most likely he was already clearing the streets below of Fiends. Hoplite scanned the roof, spotting Nolvi standing at the edge, looking down and clutching something in her hands.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± He asked, ¡°You¡¯re exposed, get back downstairs and put that book back where you found it.¡± He ordered.


    ¡°I¡­¡± She said, turning back to him.


    His blood seemed to freeze over when their gazes met. Her eyes had both turned a deep purple, a black spiral pattern surrounding her iris. He nearly took a step back out of instinct, but held his ground. The book had been open in her hands, and a sinister violet light seemed to emanate from the very pages themselves.


    ¡°I have to go.¡± She told him in a monotone to match his own, ¡°Goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Nolvi!?¡± He heard Twindil shout from behind him.


    Twindil rushed past Hoplite, ¡°Put that thing away!¡± She shouted, ¡°It is evil!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Nolvi said sadly, and then, just like that¡­


    She was gone. Just like Kazon last night, she had simply vanished in an instant, leaving no blips on his motion tracker. Twindil was left grasping the empty air where she had been.


    ¡°...What?¡± She asked, putting a hand on her brow, ¡°But she was- She¡­¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s gone.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°There¡¯s no one but us up here now.¡±


    Had she been kidnapped by Kazon? Whisked away by teleportation magic? It seemed as if she had gone of her own volition though, and it was unlikely she would have gone with Kazon willingly, if she hated him as much as her friends did.


    ¡°Could she always teleport?¡± He asked her, ¡°Where do you think she went?¡±


    ¡°I- uh.¡± She stammered, sweat beginning to pour down her brow, ¡°N-no, no she couldn¡¯t, I don¡¯t know where she could have gone. I have to find her.¡± She said, her tone shaky, ¡°She couldn¡¯t have gotten far,¡± She continued, ¡°Let¡¯s search the surrounding buildings-¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°She could be anywhere now, searching for her would jeopardize the mission. If she can teleport, she¡¯ll come back on her own.¡±


    Twindil rounded on him, a sharp glare on her face, ¡°You don¡¯t know that!¡± She exclaimed, ¡°She could have been taken against her will, she needs my help!¡±


    ¡°Before you came up here, she told me she needed to go.¡± Hoplite explained, ¡°Whatever the reason, it was her choice.¡±


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    ¡°But-¡± She began before Hoplite cut her off.


    ¡°If you go starting a useless search, I¡¯ll take the provisions and leave you behind.¡± He said harshly, the Soldier¡¯s reasoning taking over, ¡°She could be anywhere, but wherever she went she did so willingly.¡±


    ¡°The book could be influencing her, you saw that glow!¡± She yelled, approaching him before jabbing a finger into his chest-plate, ¡°And I will not allow you to take the wagon away from us, we need it just as much as you.¡±


    ¡°You will not delay the mission.¡± Hoplite growled, The Child¡¯s frustration bubbling up to the surface.


    He seized control from the two of them, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Having a screaming match here was unproductive and dangerous. What if Michael had vanished like that? Would he not also try to mount a search for him, even if it delayed the mission? Twindil opened her mouth to retort, but Hoplite cut her off by pointing to the doorway, ¡°We can talk about this more downstairs. Perhaps we can reach a compromise.¡±


    She frowned then, but said, ¡°Very well. Do try and stay in a stable state, yes?¡±


    He didn¡¯t reply, instead moving over to the edge of the roof to inspect the streets below. As he had suspected, Halm had already begun clearing out the streets. Dozens of purple bodies lay strewn this way and that, with Halm himself slowly making his way back toward the church. It looked like he had completely gotten rid of the Fiends in the immediate vicinity.


    He then turned back to Twindil, ¡°Let''s go.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Cat¡¯s eyes fluttered open, a dim orange light illuminating the cloth roof above. She groaned as she sat up, shoulders slumped. Her mouth felt dry¡­ she wanted water. It looked like she was in some kind of wagon bed, having been wrapped up in a few layers of blankets. She had survived all that? Apparently so, but why was her body not in agony? She¡¯d pushed her jets to their absolute limit and had essentially cooked herself alive, and indeed, when she checked herself, the burn scars were there.


    Yet they were faint, as if they had been inflicted years ago¡­ Had she been comatose!? She felt at her face, feeling the familiar smoothness of her own youth. Thank Jyn, she hadn¡¯t become a wrinkly old bat. She ceased feeling at her face when she heard voices speaking outside of the wagon, and she moved to investigate. Coming upon the lip of the wagon, she could see a dozen people gathered in a circle, including Hoplite, private Michael, and the blonde woman that had¡­ er, glowed on her, if she was remembering that right.


    ¡°We¡¯re agreed then.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°We¡¯ll sweep neighboring buildings for an hour before we head for the tunnels.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± The blonde woman replied, ¡°If we can¡¯t find her in that time¡­ we¡¯ll continue without her. After we kill Kazon, we¡¯ll continue our search on our own time, and we¡¯ll separate.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite said flatly, helmet tilting toward the wagon, ¡°Private Ortega, welcome back.¡± He said, leaving the group to approach the wagon.


    She nearly jumped back in her blankets when he said her name. The Guy of all time was coming to speak with her!? It was too much, she wanted to disappear back into her blankets forever, but she forced her body still despite the feeling. When he reached the wagon, he stopped a few paces short, Michael having trailed right after him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll brief you on the situation.¡± Hoplite told her.


    ¡°Sir yes sir!¡± Cat croaked out, saluting, ¡°I am Catalina Ortega, I serve the Octopus and Lord Jyn loyally!¡±


    She waited for him to reply¡­ but for some reason, he did not repeat the greeting. Was there something wrong with him? Michael looked at him strangely as well, brows knitting together before he himself repeated the greeting. Again, Hoplite did not follow suit.


    ¡°A lot has happened since the crash, private.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Do you know of any other survivors in the city?¡±


    Cat frowned and shook her head, putting a shaky hand over her brow, ¡°Sir¡­ it was a massacre, aliens and humans both, neither of us were ready for those purple freaks. I think I might be the only one left who isn¡¯t infected¡­ I haven¡¯t heard another signal in days, until you came along. I was camped out in a pod my squad had secured for a couple weeks, but we got overrun¡­¡± She finished, ¡°They found us and there were too many-¡± She said, tears welling in her eyes, ¡°I was the only one who could get out of there, I left-¡± She paused to wipe her eyes, ¡°I left them behind¡­ I couldn¡¯t save them.¡±


    Hoplite put a large hand on her shoulder, ¡°It was all you could do, private. Staying there to die wouldn¡¯t have helped them, escaping meant you could fight another day.¡±


    She knew he was right, deep down she acknowledged that¡­ but he hadn¡¯t heard them screaming for her to help them, screeching as they were being disemboweled, ¡°I need to fight something sir, anything.¡± She said shakily, ¡°I¡¯m good to fly again, those boosters don¡¯t fry like other models if you push them too hard.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, but first, I need to brief you on what¡¯s happened this past month.¡± Hoplite told her, ¡°Twindil, Halm has cleared out the majority of Fiends out there, it might be a good idea to begin your search now, while I brief private Ortega. Don¡¯t get lost.¡± He told the blonde woman.


    Twindil, the girl with the pointed ears, nodded, ¡®This won¡¯t count as the hour we agreed on, we¡¯ll still take the time when we head for the tunnels.¡±


    After a brief instant of silence, Hoplite replied, ¡°Affirmative. Rendezvous back here in fifteen minutes.¡±


    Michael grimaced, ¡°Sir, it might take more than fifteen to properly fill er¡¯ in, a lots happened.¡±


    ¡°Fifteen is enough.¡± Hoplite said in monotone, ¡°I need to open the door for them, Michael, keep your rifle trained on the door during the brief.¡±


    ¡°Sir yes sir.¡± Michael replied.


    After that was all said and done, with the strangers gone and Michael on watch, Hoplite began to brief her. In that fifteen minutes, he had managed to convince Cat that he had gone completely insane while planetside. Magic apparently was real, as were gods and demi-gods, oh, and this was also a different dimension. Michael too had apparently gone crazy, for he allegedly believed a majority of what Hoplite spewed out.


    Yet, at the same time, some of what he said didn¡¯t seem too far-fetched¡­ maybe it was because seeing something¡¯s head blown off and still move around had convinced her (at least slightly) that the supernatural could be real. Most of this was surely not true though, especially the whole thing with ¡®Pillar-Gods¡¯. Lord Jyn himself was the only thing in existence close enough to that title, and he wasn¡¯t some pillar.


    Cat would simply nod and play along, she didn¡¯t want to invoke Thirty-Seven¡¯s ire. She¡¯d ask Michael what was really going on later, when Hoplite was out of earshot. He had to be pretending to believe this to keep Hoplite in a stable mood. She didn¡¯t blame Higgins one bit. After exactly fifteen minutes, the psychotic tirade ended, and all fell silent.


    ¡°Any questions?¡± Hoplite asked her.


    ¡°No sir!¡± She exclaimed, ¡°I understand completely!¡±


    Michael snorted, and shook his head, ¡°She thinks you¡¯re making it up sir.¡±


    Cat¡¯s jaw dropped open, and she stared wide-eyed at Higgins. Why the hell would he rat her out like that!? Hoplite simply shrugged, ¡°It is the situation, she¡¯ll see how things are soon.¡±


    Clearly, Higgins was not to be trusted. They both had gone off the deep-end and may have to¡­ be re-indoctrinated. She banished the thought, there was no way Cat was going to report her childhood hero, The Chair was the last thing Hoplite deserved. Thirty-Seven just needed to rest and relax, maybe he just hadn¡¯t slept since The Sparrow crashed? She had heard that they sometimes went weeks without sleep¡­


    Michael though? He had no excuse, he was just crazy. The strangers, having been explained by Hoplite, all returned, a defeated look on their faces.


    ¡°Nowhere.¡± The blonde man, Alistair said, ¡°We searched a few places top to bottom, but we couldn¡¯t find her anywhere.¡±


    ¡°Then we need to get going.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°Private Ortega, stay here and guard the wagon, ¡°Michael, you assist her, I¡¯ll be searching for Nolvi as well.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡± Michael and Cat both replied.


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with them too.¡± A big purple infected said, moving casually through the doorway.


    Cat nearly jumped out of her own skin seeing the hulking mass enter, but Hoplite had informed her that this guy, Halm, wasn¡¯t a hostile. Apparently, Twindil had glowed on him too, and it made him not crazy like the other Fiends. In fact, he had apparently saved her before the rest of his kind could spread the ¡®curse¡¯ to her. As much as Cat hated mutants, she owed him one for rescuing her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be an all natural door bar.¡± Hal said, flexing his massive arms, ¡°Just sit back and relax.¡± He finished, looking directly at her and Michael.


    ¡°Affirmative. We¡¯ll meet back here in one hour, everyone else should go in pairs, I¡¯ll go alone.¡± Hoplite said, rushing out the door.


    ¡°Oh no you won¡¯t!¡± Said the black-haired girl, Lance, ¡°Everyone¡¯s going in pairs? Fine, that means you¡¯re stuck with me, got a problem with it?¡± She asked him in a challenging tone.


    The balls of this woman, talking to Hoplite like that. Would he reprimand her? Perhaps force her to go with someone else? His shoulders slumped slightly in response, a motion that was nearly invisible.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± He replied in a tone bordering on suffering.


    Cat stared, bewildered before shifting her gaze over to Michael, who merely shrugged in response, ¡°She¡¯s got some kinda super-power.¡± He told her casually, ¡°Anyway, hold tight, they should be back soon. Maybe you should check out yer gear?¡±


    ¡°Not a bad idea¡­¡± Cat said, shaking her head lightly, ¡°I¡¯m just in shock that Thirty-Seven let himself be talked to like that.¡±


    ¡°Super-power.¡± Michael repeated, ¡°I don¡¯t know how she does it.¡± He paused then, for a long while before continuing, ¡°Do you know if¡­ Do you know if Nasty Nate was KIA?¡±


    Cat tried to think if she¡¯d seen the man amongst the Fiends over these past two weeks, but she couldn¡¯t recall him. Then again, it would have been hard to pick any one face out of those crowds.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She said, ¡°So you remember me then.¡±


    Michael nodded, ¡°When you tell a guy to airlock himself ya don¡¯t forget.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel bad.¡± Cat replied with a huff, ¡°Guy thought if he tried hard enough that he could get me in his bunk. I¡¯m not that type of girl.¡±


    ¡°You drove him crazy,¡± Michael said with a laugh, ¡°I think you mighta gotten him to fall in love with ya, and all ya had to do was tell him no.¡±


    She snorted, ¡°Guys like you and him have it too easy with the ladies,¡± She said, ¡°You think a nice jawline and some muscles will get you the world.¡±


    ¡°I mean, not the world.¡± He replied with a shrug, ¡°Just some mutual fun with some girls.¡±


    ¡°Is there a mirror somewhere in this thing?¡± She asked, changing the subject, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen myself in weeks.¡±


    ¡°The princess will find her vanity in the sack on the left hand side of the wagon, loaded into the bottom.¡± Michael told her in a pompous nasally voice, ¡°Is there anything else milady desires?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± She said with a grin, ¡°If you could put on some coffee that would be great.¡±


    He then shook his head, keeping his eyes trained on Halm and the doorway. She disembarked from the vehicle, shifting through the various bags until finally she found a small hand mirror. Good, she really hadn¡¯t been comatose then, for her short dark hair was the same length as it had been when she¡¯d basically cooked herself.


    No scarring on her face either, meaning she hadn¡¯t had one on one contact with the street when the jets failed¡­ Thanks to Halm. She didn¡¯t like it, but she would have to at least go and say thank you later, after she got her gear in order. In her inspection she spotted a single eyelash, sitting atop her tanned skin. She removed it with a shudder, and then stowed the mirror away. Was there anything worse than loose hair?


    She walked back around the cart, her legs somewhat shaky as she went. Cat needed to get some food in her system or she¡¯d collapse, not to mention water. Michael could maybe help her get something ready, she didn¡¯t know where the food was and with how shaky she was, she may not be able to cook anything herself. Then again, if they were just ration bars all she¡¯d need to do is tear through that awful thick plastic.


    When she rounded the wagon, she saw Michael frowning, a distant look in his eyes. She took a deep breath, leaning against the wagon before she told him, ¡°I don¡¯t think Nate¡¯s pod crashed here, I know a lot of others ended up farther away than this. Try not to stress about it.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Michael said, ¡°It''s hard not to worry though.¡± He paused then, his eyes refocusing on her, ¡°If we find him don¡¯t you tell him I was worried, I won¡¯t hear the end of it.¡±


    Cat smiled, ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    She didn¡¯t feel guilty about lying. It would be the perfect way to get back at him for ratting her out to Hoplite.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: To The Tunnels

    As they had all previously discussed, they searched the surrounding city for an hour, but when everyone regrouped, no one had found Nolvi. The girl was gone, and frankly Lance was relieved to hear it. According to Hoplite, Nolvi¡¯s eyes had become spirals¡­ a sign of Lifia¡¯s cursed blood. It was hard to believe that slip of a girl was a descendant of the original Spiral Queen, the Custodian of Death. Maybe Hoplite had been mistaken? Nolvi had been so easily forgotten about, so small, so quiet, like a mouse staying out of sight. Lance just couldn¡¯t picture her as being a monster.


    Yet, she knew that Hoplite wouldn¡¯t have given incorrect details. His mind was a steel trap, if that¡¯s what he saw, then that was it. She was glad they didn¡¯t find Nolvi, hopefully she wouldn¡¯t be found again any time soon. Their glare could bestow the curse without having to inflict any pain whatsoever, they spoke prophecies that could twist minds into darkness, and worst of all, they all wanted to free Lithia. If the Spiral Queen were awakened¡­ that could be just as disastrous as a Godling War.


    She sighed as she walked beside Hoplite, seeing Twindil and her companions lagging behind, their eyes still searching for their lost friend. The paladin looked miserable, the pained grimace on her face constant. It was clear as day that she loved Nolvi like a little sister, same with the others. The only one from Twindil¡¯s group that seemed not to care was Theopalu, who led Hoplite as he pulled the wagon.


    ¡°What is a Spiral Queen?¡± Hoplite asked her, ¡°You made it sound like she was dangerous. Is Nolvi infected?¡±


    Lance shook her head, ¡°I only know about the legends, nothing more. Not a single one has been confirmed to exist in Decuma.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°No one has come forward claiming to have met one?¡±


    Lance shook her head, ¡°No, in many nations contact with a Spiral Queen can be enough for a death sentence, even the Faewood forbids it.¡±


    ¡°Excessive.¡± Hoplite remarked, ¡°Why.¡±


    ¡°If one hears a Spiral Queen¡¯s prophecy, it can drive someone mad.¡± Lance said, ¡°At least that is what I heard. That, and the more people hear a Spiral Queen¡¯s prophecy, the more likely it is to become true. That¡¯s why those who interact with them are killed, as their prophecies often describe unfortunate events.¡±


    ¡°You just said that there have been none so far this age.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°How do you know to execute these people if they don¡¯t even exist in this time period?¡±


    Lance shrugged, ¡°It is one of those things that managed to survive the Godling Wars of ages past, a legend yes, but one so strong that it hasn¡¯t become too distorted from the passage of time.¡±


    Theopalu snorted, turning around to look at her, ¡°Lancela, time corrupts all records eventually. The Spiral Queens have been around since the First Age, do you really think that silly legend is completely true?¡± He asked.


    She stared at her elder, shocked that he had even asked the question, ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m not sure.¡± She said honestly, ¡°But Spiral Queens are dangerous, I know that much.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Theopalu told her with a nod, ¡°They are dangerous indeed, but I feel that they are misunderstood¡­¡± He said with a sigh, ¡°I¡¯ve been around for a long time, longer than you might dare to believe; I know what time does to history better than anyone. You do not know for sure that a Spiral Queen¡¯s prophecy is always ill-willed, you don¡¯t even know if everyone who''s ever talked with one has gone mad.¡±


    Lance narrowed her eyes, ¡°Theopalu¡­ are you saying that you¡¯ve¡­?¡±


    ¡°The tunnel nears.¡± Theopalu said, turning around, ¡°Look there, see the big round building? That descends into the depths, this particular one should lead out of the city, but it will be a long journey.¡±


    ¡°Estimation on travel time.¡± Hoplite said flatly.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Theopalu considered, ¡°I would have to say, at walking pace, about three days? Assuming we don¡¯t run into trouble that is.¡±


    ¡°Theopalu.¡± Lance said, ¡°Did you talk with a Spiral Queen?¡±


    Her elder turned again, and glowered, ¡°And what if I did, Lancela? What would you do?¡±


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    She clenched her jaw. She knew what he was trying to say. Even if he did talk with one, she could hardly execute him right now¡­ not that she would even be able to do so. Not because she doubted her abilities, but because Theopalu had been in the Watch longer than she¡¯d been alive. She struggled to imagine trying to kill him because of that, he was a comrade.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± She said honestly, ¡°I¡¯d do nothing.¡±


    Theopalu glared for a long time before he said, ¡°I did, once, long ago. Let us leave it at that¡­¡± He finished, turning back to the tunnel, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you will want to go at a walking pace once we enter the tunnel.¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°A sprint will get us through faster.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true, but if you go your full speed down there it may end up destroying the wagon. That is not eternally smooth Setstone down there, it is old rocky cobbles, the wheels would be destroyed if you ran that fast. Might I suggest going at a gallop, so to speak?¡±


    ¡°Elaborate.¡±


    ¡°Move as fast as a horse does, a horse running at a cozy speed, nothing crazy like back on the bridge. We can¡¯t afford to lose our wheels.¡± Theopalu explained.


    ¡°...Affirmative.¡± Hoplite said in a begrudging tone.


    They said other things as well, but Lance couldn¡¯t exactly hear them over her sheer shock at what Theopalu had just claimed. He¡¯d spoken with a Spiral Queen? There hasn¡¯t been one recorded instance of one appearing in Decuma¡­Did that mean¡­ were the rumors about Theopalu true? Was he a survivor of past Godling Wars? She had always wondered about that, but it made sense. Surely there were other elves out there who had outlasted the ages, perhaps Theopalu was one such person.


    Suddenly, Cat spoke up from the wagon, ¡°What does any of that even mean?¡±


    ¡°Losing our wheels?¡± Theopalu asked, ¡°You must have hit your head hard if you cannot grasp that concept.¡±


    ¡°No-¡± She replied sharply, ¡°What the hell is a Spiral Queen?¡±


    ¡°Ah, well you see, it all began with Lifia, the original Spiral Queen, back in the third age.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°There is not a Pillar-God of Death yet, so the Pillars saw fit to put someone in charge of death until a proper deity could be raised to take the reins¡­ A mortal, one they thought they could trust.¡±


    ¡°Why would they do that?¡± Hoplite asked as they continued to walk.


    ¡°Because someone needed to be in charge of Death, Lifia was appointed as Custodian back in the first age, and had done a good job at managing it up until the third age. She had gone mad, and had sought true godhood with her gifted abilities. She was causing all sorts of problems for Ahkoolis until the third Godling War, when the Pillar-God of War, Darax sealed her right here, somewhere in the Fiendwood. He was not a proper god then, but he had been on the cusp of ascension¡­ he was just as insane at that point. Poor boy¡­¡±


    Lance found herself goggling at her elder. The way he spoke of it made it sound like¡­ he made it sound like he had been there to witness it firsthand.


    ¡°Theopalu.¡± Lance said, ¡°I know this is rude. But how old are you exactly?¡±


    ¡°Now we must be going down into the depths, young Michael!¡± Theopalu shouted, ¡°Keep that flashlight on! There is nothing but blackness down there!¡±


    Lance frowned at the clear dismissal of her question. He was avoiding it¡­ maybe this really did mean he was ancient. Perhaps he was even born during the third age, based on how he was talking about Lifia and Darax in such a familiar tone. Her mind raced with the possibilities as she observed her elder. If that was true, then he was around eight-thousand years old¡­ no wonder he had wrinkles. She shook her head at the silly thought, wrinkles should have been the furthest thing from her mind.


    A tie to link the ages was right here, leading their little wagon through Akan-Var. Lance¡¯s curiosity nearly drove her to ask Theopalu again, but that lack of tact may make him more secretive. She¡¯d need to try and tease out more details subtly, like how she wanted to slowly de-program Hoplite.


    They were at the mouth of the tunnel now, a cobbled slope leading down into Akan-Var¡¯s depths, or as Theopalu called it, the Akan-Dark. She turned to gauge Michael¡¯s reaction, seeing that the boy had gone pale at the sight of it. He seemed to get a hold of himself however, jaw clenching as he turned on his helmet''s flashlight. He seemed to be getting braver these past few days, she suspected that he wanted to get over his nyctophobia, and quickly.


    Twindil and the party still seemed despondent, clearly saddened by the loss of their friend. Lance was not sure they¡¯d ever see Nolvi again, and perhaps that would be for the best. The thought of being underneath her glare sent shivers up Lance¡¯s spine. She¡¯d rather face another horde of Fiends down in the tunnels than see Nolvi again¡­ but Theopalu¡¯s earlier words made her question if her fear was necessary.


    Well that hardly mattered now. If they found Nolvi she would figure out how she felt then. She took a deep breath and looked at Hoplite.


    ¡°You ready?¡± She asked him, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s going to happen down there, but we have to take it slow or we¡¯ll lose everything.¡±


    ¡°I understand that.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°But the longer we take the more supplies we¡¯ll use up. I won¡¯t go full speed.¡±


    ¡°Alright, well my stomach will be grateful at least.¡± Lance said, checking the dark bandages she¡¯d wrapped around her forearms.


    They were nice and secure, not tight enough to cut off blood flow and not loose enough to fall off as soon as she began swinging. She¡¯d needed to wrap herself up like this because, as it turns out, chains chafe horribly¡­ and pinch. The bandages mitigated these annoyances at least.


    ¡°Halm isn¡¯t back yet.¡± Michael said, ¡°Think he¡¯ll catch up?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s wait for him.¡± Alistair said, tired eyes still scanning the streets.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Kid¡¯ka agreed, ¡°Nolvi might be with him too¡­¡±


    Everyone fell silent. Lance didn¡¯t want to dash that thin hope, but it just wasn¡¯t likely. She was proven right as Halm rounded a corner, alone as he jogged towards the wagon. His massive fists had been bloodied, likely he had been disabling more of his fellows during his scouting.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± The cursed orc said, ¡°We ready to go? I¡¯ll lead next to the old timer, in case things get¡­ cramped down there.¡±


    That made sense, Halm couldn¡¯t be cursed twice and he was difficult to injure due to his Zodd-blessed flesh. No one objected to this, and after everyone loaded into the wagon, they all descended wordlessly into the depths, Hoplite pulling them along silently. It took them an hour for the slope to flatten out, Michael holding his helmet in his hands and illuminating the wagon.


    Hoplite¡¯s own flashlight was on as well, shining across the wide tunnel and illuminating Theopalu and Halm¡¯s backs. The tunnel was so wide that Hoplite¡¯s light did not reveal the walls. Lance had a bad feeling about this¡­ something was down here with them, and knowing the nature of the Fiendwood, that was likely the truth. They would all need to stay on high alert, there may not have been Fiends yet, but she was sure there were dozens down here. Yet, her gut told her that something far worse awaited them, though she knew not what could possibly be worse than that.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight: Vampire

    Hoplite pulled the wagon, his flashlight illuminating the smooth tunnel ahead. Theopalu had taken up a space behind him, directing him whenever the tunnel split off into other paths. Halm walked just slightly ahead of Hoplite, keeping on the lookout for approaching Fiends. The rest of the party kept watch out of the back of the wagon, in case any hordes decided to give pursuit. It had been hours now however, so Hoplite doubted that any significant force would be pursuing them. Even if there were, their roars would echo through the tunnels, giving the squad time to prepare.


    Still though¡­ something felt wrong about this place. His instincts told him to move through here as quickly as possible. Even Theopalu¡¯s irritating laziness had been washed away, leaving the old elf with wide staring eyes that peered into the darkness ahead. Michael however, was far more paranoid from what Hoplite could see. The marine¡¯s headlamp quaked slightly as he cast the light out of the back of the wagon. There was so much darkness surrounding them, if for some reason the lights were to shut off now, Hoplite had no doubt that Michael would become incapacitated.


    ¡°How much longer?¡± Hoplite asked Theopalu.


    ¡°A few more hours.¡± Theopalu said, not tearing his eyes away from the darkness ahead, ¡°Just a few more hours¡­¡± He repeated again, seemingly to himself.


    ¡°Why are you on high alert?¡± Hoplite asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re asking that.¡± Theopalu stated.


    ¡°You¡¯re lazy.¡± He shot back flatly.


    ¡°Ah yes, this is the truth.¡± Theopalu nodded, ¡°I am concerned by the lack of Fiends.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°It seems optimal for our mission.¡±


    ¡°There still should have been at least a few skulking about down here.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°Yet we haven¡¯t even seen a single one. It makes my imagination work is all, and it is not picturing anything good.¡±


    ¡°What are you thinking about then?¡± Lance asked from beside him, ¡°I have a bad feeling too but I can¡¯t place it.¡±


    Hoplite felt this way as well, but remained silent.


    ¡°...There is an old story about the Akan-Dark, one that has lasted through the fall of Akan-Var, migrating to Akan-Dar.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°Legend states that an ancient Romai ruin can be found down here, if one explores enough of the tunnels.¡±


    Hoplite remembered hearing about the Romai. They were the dwarves that ruled during the Sixth Age, their leaders being vampires.


    ¡°I¡¯ve not seen this supposed ruin myself, but if these tunnels are clear of Fiends¡­ something made them disappear.¡± Theopalu said with a sigh.


    ¡°Are you saying there are vampires down here?¡± Cat whispered, squeezing beside Lance, ¡°You aren¡¯t for real, right?¡±


    ¡°Vampires are definitely real.¡± Theopalu said miserably, ¡°It is unfortunate, but their kind hasn¡¯t been completely wiped out. They are immortal, so the possibility of there being an ancient dwarven vampire running around down here¡­ is plausible. Perhaps.¡±


    Hoplite felt despair at the fact that he didn¡¯t argue with the elf. In fact, he just took it as a given at this point.


    ¡°How dangerous are these vampires?¡± Hoplite asked.


    ¡°You would die if we came across one.¡± Theopalu told him, ¡°At least, if it is an ancient one. Vampirism is something that only makes its victim more powerful with age, like fine wine the longer it ferments the more potent it becomes. If there truly is a Sixth Age Romai vampire roaming about down here¡­ we¡¯d best be careful.¡±


    ¡°Hoplite killed a Godling.¡± Lance said, ¡°I don¡¯t think a vampire would put up that much more of a challenge.¡±


    Theopalu simply shook his head, ¡°You¡¯ve not seen what they are capable of.¡±


    Everyone fell silent after that. Hoplite considered the possibilities as he continued pulling the wagon along. It seemed like an ancient vampire could be more powerful than Tuji had been¡­ if that was the case, then he would need to use everything at his disposal in order to kill it.


    ¡°What are vampires'' weaknesses?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°I assume sunlight.¡±


    ¡°For a vampire potentially this old, the sun would just be a nuisance, and we won¡¯t be getting any down here.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°They can regrow limbs and seal wounds in seconds, and their strength will likely exceed even yours. Don¡¯t try and fight it, our only option would be to run.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s really so powerful, it would only catch up with us.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°I will eliminate the threat if it appears.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Theopalu sighed, ¡°There are many steps to destroying a vampire however, and all must be followed to ensure that it can be done. Firstly, we must find its Coffin, and make sure it cannot enter it. If it does, it will be able to fully recover from whatever we¡¯ve inflicted upon it in an instant, while we will be exhausted.¡±


    ¡°A coffin?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°Can¡¯t we just destroy it?¡±


    Theopalu shook his head, ¡°No, this is not some pine box I¡¯m talking about. Eventually, a vampire can form their own miniature realm, a Coffin, which is often tied to a physical object they choose. We must identify what the Coffin is and where it resides, then seal it, either physically or magically.¡±


    ¡°Could the creature be carrying their own Coffin?¡± Halm asked, tilting his head slightly, ¡°They¡¯d be able to warp into it right there, and we wouldn¡¯t be able to stop it from happening.¡±


    ¡°Coffins are not things that a vampire can carry, they can enter it but they cannot bring it with them. Yes, they can choose a new object to be their Coffin instead, but it is a tedious effort, which is why vampires don¡¯t typically roam far from it.¡± Theopalu explained.


    ¡°You seem like you know a lot about this.¡± Lance pointed out, ¡°Why is that?¡±


    ¡°Think I¡¯m a vampire, Lancela?¡± Theopalu asked, cocking an eyebrow.


    Lance shook her head, ¡°Of course not, but you know more than a lot of other people do. I¡¯ve not heard of ¡®Coffins¡¯ before in the legends.¡±


    ¡°Vampires are a nearly extinct breed in this age.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°And with Legolanthas present in the east, no vampire would dare try to raise a domain where the Dragon could find them.¡±


    Hoplite sneered as he thought back to his encounter with Legolanthas, ¡°Why would he care?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Dragons hate vampires, they see them as competition for ruling mortals, and any vampire surviving on the surface now would not stand a chance against him, for they are too young.¡±


    ¡°So Legolanthas would smite them if he knew there were any around?¡± Lance asked, ¡°Seems oddly benevolent.¡±


    ¡°A young vampire is like a small, ugly weed in a big garden.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°Ahkoolis, in Legolanthas¡¯ eyes, is his garden, and he would not allow such a weed to outgrow it, and him eventually. Again, vampirism gets better with age, and doesn¡¯t slow down. For example, if a vampire had somehow managed to survive from the First Age all the way up until now¡­ well, even the very Pillar-Gods themselves might be threatened by such a being.¡±


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    ¡°I guess that means there are no vampires that old then.¡± Lance said casually, leaning back, ¡°If there were, we¡¯d be ruled by them right now.¡±


    ¡°Let us not make assumptions.¡± Theopalu told her, wagging a finger, ¡°At the end of the day, vampires are sapient beings, perhaps not all wish to rule over mortals.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re evil.¡± Lance said flatly, ¡°Of course they would all want to rule the world eventually.¡±


    ¡°Weaknesses.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°I need more weaknesses.¡±


    ¡°Sunlight of course will kill a young vampire outright, but as they get older they build a tolerance for it. It will still stop their regeneration and other powers they wield, but again, it cannot be depended on down here. Thankfully, we have a paladin with us. Afina¡¯s holy magic ought to put a damper on such a monster as well, yes Twindil?¡±


    Twindil¡¯s head turned from the back of the wagon, ¡°Afina¡¯s tranquility can drive off any undead.¡±


    ¡°Vampires are not undead¡­ at least I do not consider them as such.¡± He said, ¡°They do have a heartbeat, but it¡¯s slow, perhaps only pumping once per day.¡±


    ¡°Again,¡± Lance said, leaning forward, ¡°Why do you know so much about them?¡±


    Theopalu shrugged, ¡°I used to hunt them.¡± He said casually, ¡°You learn intimate details when you spend a good amount of time with something.¡±


    Lance opened her mouth to speak, but Hoplite cut her off, ¡°Can their regeneration be halted by causing overwhelming damage?¡±


    Theopalu nodded, ¡°Yes, that is the most conventional way to end them, but only after sealing their Coffin.¡±


    It was sort of like forcing them to the point of ¡®going Wendigo¡¯, like with Hoplite¡¯s. If his regeneration couldn¡¯t keep up with the damage, he¡¯d be forced into voracious hunger, but if that hunger wasn¡¯t sated and he continued to take damage, Hoplite would starve to death, or just bleed out, no longer able to heal himself after that point. It must have been the same way for vampires.


    ¡°We also must remove their head, burn the body, and leave the bones in the sun. This is the guaranteed method for vampire removal.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°And I know what you all are thinking, yes, garlic helps, but only because a vampire''s nose is sensitive to strong smells. If you have something pungent enough, you might be able to stun them.¡±


    ¡°Give Michael over there a few burritos and we¡¯ll be good.¡± Cat chimed in, ¡°Not that I believe any of this, just trying to lighten the mood.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what a ¡®burrito¡¯ is, but I assume it has garlic. Why give it to Michael?¡± Theopalu asked, ¡°Can he throw them well?¡±


    Cat just shook her head, ¡°Mike you get it right?¡±


    Michael didn¡¯t respond, still staring off into the darkness.


    ¡°Sir¡­ if you don¡¯t mind me asking, do you know why Higgins is acting like that? He¡¯s been this way ever since we got down here.¡±


    ¡°He was trapped in his escape pod for over three days in the dark.¡± Hoplite said, leaving it at that.


    It was a short summary, but he didn¡¯t want to go into detail, that may make Michael more shaky than he already was.


    ¡°Anyway, most vampires can use Foundation exceedingly well. They can turn to mist, walk on water, shapeshift, basically anything magic related you can think of. It is not the vampirism that causes this, rather it is their eternal life spans. They have eternity to practice the Building the Houses and utilizing Foundation, their magical abilities are far more dangerous than anything else.¡±


    ¡°How long ago were you hunting vampires?¡± Lance asked after a moment.


    ¡°Take a right in this fork, and keep going straight.¡± Theopalu told Hoplite, ignoring the question.


    They continued like that for another hour or so, lapsing into silence until finally, they encountered their first Fiend. It hovered just outside the range of his light, but Hoplite could see the squat figure, lightly swaying. Halm cracked his neck and approached the creature.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it.¡± Halm said with confidence, ¡°At least now we know there aren¡¯t any vampires down here.¡±


    ¡°New ones?¡± The Fiend said, suddenly becoming rigid.


    Halm froze in place, ¡°Are you like me then?¡±


    ¡°New ones!¡± The figure screamed, ¡°New ones!¡±


    ¡°Calm down.¡± Halm said raising his hands, ¡°You need to relax.¡±


    ¡°Follow! Follow!¡± The stout creature shouted before sprinting off.


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep going.¡± Hoplite said, tugging the wagon.


    ¡°You want to follow that thing?¡± Lance asked.


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to waste time.¡±


    ¡°It happens to be going the way we need to go¡­¡± Theopalu noted.


    ¡°If it wants to think we¡¯re following it, then let it.¡± Hoplite said dismissively, ¡°If it becomes aggressive, we¡¯ll neutralize it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should just do that now.¡± Cat said, ¡°Something about this is weird.¡±


    He didn¡¯t outright dismiss the idea, but a part of him strangely didn¡¯t see a real need for it. The creature could be trying to lead them into a poorly made trap, sure, but it would no doubt get lost in the tunnels after they parted ways. Still, just to be safe¡­


    ¡°Halm, go disable it.¡± Hoplite whispered, ¡°Even if we don¡¯t follow the Fiend, it¡¯ll let its kind know we¡¯re down here.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± The creature yelled from up ahead, ¡°No not me! I¡¯m not a Fiend!¡±


    Hoplite frowned, how had it heard them from all the way up there?


    ¡°Well what are you then?¡± Halm shouted back.


    ¡°I thought you said it was a Fiend?¡± Hoplite asked.


    Halm only shrugged, ¡°It''s dark down here, I just assumed.¡±


    ¡°Just follow me!¡± The creature shouted back, ¡°Follow!¡±


    Hoplite sat down the cart abruptly and drew the Fortis, aiming it right at the squat figure. His instincts screamed that it needed to die right that instant. Would the gunshot echo through the tunnels and draw Fiends to their location? Potentially, but this thing, whatever it was, seemed far more dangerous at that moment.


    ¡°Cover your ears!¡± Hoplite shouted before pulling the trigger.


    The bullet tore through the dark figure, its torso ballooning up and dissipating immediately after.


    ¡°We need to run!¡± Theopalu shouted, ¡°Turn around and run, Hoplite!¡±


    ¡°If y-you won¡¯t f-follow-¡± The creature stuttered,, ¡°I h-have to m-make you!¡±


    Hoplite fired again, the figure completely evaporating into darkness. No¡­ it wasn¡¯t that it had disappeared. There was weight to the surrounding darkness now, pressing in on the light from his helmet. He heard Michael¡¯s breathing begin to shake as the blackness began to close in on the wagon.


    ¡°Dammit all! Hold on everybody, stay together, we were in its Coffin this whole time!¡± Theopalu shouted, moving over to Twindil, ¡°You must dispel this, now!¡±


    Was that creature a vampire then? Hoplite scanned the blackness, trying to find something, anything to shoot. Nothing appeared on his motion tracker, and infrared wasn¡¯t picking anything up either¡­ but now the tunnel seemed to come alive, its smooth walls warping and twisting around them.


    ¡°You have to go t-this way now!¡± It shouted, ¡°You h-have to now! T-they will be h-happy to see you!¡±


    ¡°Afina, drive away this vile darkness!¡± Twindil shouted, clasping her hands together and kneeling, ¡°So that we may be tranquil in the light!¡±


    A warm light then surged out of her, expanding like a bubble before spreading out of the wagon. Once this strange bubble of light hit the encroaching darkness, the two seemed to clash, pushing one another back. The blackness however, seemed to be pushing closer regardless of this new resistance it faced. Hoplite saw Twindil sweating, her clasped hands trembling as the blood drained from her face. Then she clenched her teeth, growling as she pushed harder against the blackness, sending it back and extending through the tunnel.


    ¡°Twindil stop!¡± Alistair shouted, grabbing her shoulder, ¡°You¡¯ll burn yourself!¡±


    She ignored the warning and screamed, and the light spread throughout the entire tunnel, revealing that the path now only led one direction. The warm glow that had come from Twindil seemed to light up the entire pathway now, and Hoplite could see that a massive steel gear lay at the end of it, set into the wall of the tunnel. Looking behind him he could only see a dead-end where there hadn¡¯t been one before¡­ there was no going back now.


    Twindil collapsed, being caught by Alistair and Elum. The paladin had gone pale, her eyes shut in a pained grimace. Cat¡¯s eyes were wide with shock, staring down at Twindil before looking to the suddenly changed tunnels.


    ¡°Y-you weren¡¯t kidding!¡± Cat shouted, gripping her head in her hands, ¡°Everything you said was real!? Magic and vampires!?¡±


    ¡°Get a grip, private.¡± Hoplite ordered sternly, ¡°Don¡¯t panic.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try sir¡­¡± Cat said, putting a hand to her brow, ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±


    He took a head count of everyone to ensure that no one had vanished, satisfied that everybody was still here. Kid¡¯ka seemed to busy himself with trying to get Michael¡¯s attention, the marine having fallen deathly silent. The encroaching darkness must have had a negative effect on his psyche, Hoplite would check in on him in just a moment.


    Twindil seemed to have fallen completely unconscious, Elum and Alistair both setting her down flat in the center of the wagon before lifting her head up to drink from a water skin. Halm for his part simply looked confused, standing beside Hoplite and whipping his head to and fro in search for the vampire. Theopalu was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, letting out a stressed sigh while Lance gripped her chain-blades with a white-knuckled grip.


    ¡°Is this an illusion?¡± Hoplite asked, still gripping the Fortis.


    ¡°Unfortunately not.¡± Theopalu replied, looking up, ¡°The creature has made the entire Akan-Dark its Coffin¡­ I¡¯ve not seen such a thing before. This vampire must be well over a thousand years old to have pulled off such a feat. Right now we¡¯re safe, Afina¡¯s light seems to be sticking around, but that won¡¯t last forever, the vampire will return once it dissipates.¡±


    It was true, the entire tunnel was lit up like it was day time.


    ¡°Twindil has very likely singed herself putting out that much magic¡­ we can only hope that she recovers soon.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°It looks like we have no choice but to go to that far door over there¡­¡± Theopalu squinted, ¡°That looks like¡­ no, it cannot be, that simply cannot be what I think it is.¡± He said, seemingly to himself. ¡°I saw them be destroyed with my own eyes, this must be a part of the Coffin, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Lance asked, ¡°What do you see?¡±


    ¡°Look there, Lancela, in the center of that steel door, do you see the symbol?¡± He asked, pointing directly at it.


    Hoplite did a double take. This massive steel gear was no such thing indeed, he could see steps leading up to it from here.


    Lance squinted, staring down the hallway, ¡°Am I supposed to recognize that?¡±


    Hoplite too looked closer, zooming in for better clarity. The steel door indeed had a symbol right in its center. It was of a broad red hand, clutching an eyeball¡­ the eye looked startlingly close to Ahkoolis, Hoplite noted.


    ¡°I saw them all die.¡± Theopalu repeated, ¡°This simply cannot be¡­¡±


    ¡°What is that symbol?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°What is the significance?¡±


    ¡°That is the symbol of the Romai. The dwarves that ruled the Sixth Age.¡± Theopalu told him with a shudder.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Romai

    With the Coffin erasing the way they had come, the squad had no real choice but to approach the mysterious steel door. The tunnel that had been created here was no illusion, he¡¯d felt along the walls to be sure and Theopalu had insisted that it was so. Everything that made up a vampire¡¯s Coffin was malleable, so the old elf claimed. Twindil¡¯s light was keeping the vampire at bay for now, but once it wore off, that creature would surely return.


    So everyone agreed that the only way was forward. Hoplite hoped that wherever this led, it would be out of this Coffin. As they all neared the door, Hoplite¡¯s eyes widened. The steel grated steps that led up to the gear-shaped door looked like something he would have seen on a factory world. A coincidence for sure, The Soldier reasoned. What shocked him more than the steps however, was the little pad that was embedded into the wall next to the door.


    ¡°Curious.¡± Elum said, squinting at the thing, ¡°What the hells is that?¡±


    ¡°Go touch it.¡± Alistair urged the Ifrit, ¡°Go on, you first.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to do that,¡± complained Elum. ¡°Twindil had better wake up soon, she¡¯d lecture us for getting too close without her.¡±


    Hoplite ducked under the pull-bar, leaving everyone else behind. Lance leaped from the wagon bed, quickly following after him as he approached what appeared to be an intercom. A primitive microphone sat above a large red button, which glowed a faint umber. There was electricity here, and someone had to be on the other side. Countless possibilities played through his head as he raised his hand, staring hard at the button.


    Hoplite reached toward it, but Lance grabbed his gauntlet, ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± she asked. ¡°You have no idea if there¡¯s some sort of trap on the door. Look at those odd fixtures!¡±


    ¡°Intercom,¡± Hoplite said. ¡°We have these back in my dimension, but this is a primitive version¡­ we push the button, and we can talk to whoever is on the other end.¡±


    ¡°Push a button and talk?¡± Lance slowly repeated the words, ¡°But if this is like what you have back in your realm, then this contraption is not used with magic, yes?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°No it isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Cat yelled, ¡°Twindil¡¯s waking up, but she can¡¯t move.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, private,¡± Hoplite said. ¡°Michael and Cat, come here and take point on the door. Everyone else, form around them. Someone stay behind with Twindil.¡± Hoplite ordered, waiting for them all to get into position.


    Lance had been right to stop him. In his excitement, The Child had nearly pressed the button to see who would answer. Such a fluke could have cost them the mission, The Soldier scolded. Hoplite ignored the inward bickering. Once the squad was ready, he pressed the button.


    ¡°This is Hoplite Thirty-Seven,¡± he spoke into the intercom.


    After a long pause, a beep sounded and a slightly distorted voice answered, ¡°Greetings, Unmarked. Do you request passage?¡±


    The Ahkoolians jumped at the voice, all but Theopalu. Hands went to their weapons. Michael and Cat held their positions close to the door, giving no outward reaction. The voice on the other side of the intercom had not reacted to Hoplite¡¯s presence, but maybe that was because they could not see them? If they were Ternans, they would have surely been shocked at his presence¡­ though it was impossible that his comrades would have had the time to set up here. That, and the voice had addressed them as ¡®Unmarked¡¯, that implied that the voice could see them clear as day. Clearly, Unmarked was the term these people used for those not infected with the Death Spiral, and they would need a visual indication of that to know that they weren¡¯t Fiends.


    ¡°Identify.¡± Hoplite replied curtly.


    ¡°Ah, a golem. If you wish to communicate through your automaton, then so be it. I am the Gear Guard.¡±


    After the fifth or so time of being mistaken for a golem, Hoplite decided it was easier to roll with the misinterpretation. A little deception couldn¡¯t hurt if this truly was some Romai holdout run by vampires. ¡°Define Gear Guard.¡± He said flatly.


    ¡°Your visual circuits need an upgrade, Construct. You stand before a gear-shaped door and I have the say whether it opens or closes. As rare as it is to see an Unmarked at our doorstep, I will not allow just anyone through. Do your masters have better communication skills?¡±


    ¡°Excuse you,¡± Lance cut in, ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are, but you shouldn''t be so rude.¡±


    Circuits! How advanced was the technology these strangers had? If they had advanced circuitry, then it was practically guaranteed that they¡¯d have tech from early modern Earth, including guns. They¡¯d need to advance with the utmost caution.


    ¡°Does your party fear addressing the Gear Door? Why are the first ones to speak the lowest ranking?¡± The voice gained a bit of a taunting edge to it.


    He spoke over Lance¡¯s outburst, ¡°What do you mean by lowest rank?¡± Hoplite asked, noting a small glass cylinder above the door. ¡°Define that.¡±


    A small mutter of something resembling ¡®empty-headed peasants¡¯ hissed through the speaker, then the voice resumed, ¡°You there, Incher, state your business.¡±


    ¡°Incher?¡± Hoplite asked. This door guard, whoever they were, was starting to grate on his nerves.


    ¡°Your highest ranking individual is decided by inches, is he not? Though a mere Incher, only one of your men has the decency to wear hair upon his face. So, I ask again, Incher, what is your business at the Gear Door?¡±


    The room fell silent as all eyes fell on Michael, the marine blinking in shock a moment before he pointed to himself, dumbfounded.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Michael asked, ¡°The hell is he talkin¡¯ about?¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± the speaker crackled, ¡°then I was sorely mistaken. Who among you Unmarked is leading this ragtag group of humanoids? I wish to speak with someone of basic intelligence.¡±


    ¡°Basic intelligence? You little¡­!¡± Elum clenched his grayed fist.


    ¡°Those are strong words from someone hiding behind a giant metal door.¡± Alistair grunted.


    Kid¡¯ka turned to Theopalu and asked, ¡°You¡¯re sure we have to go this way?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯d rather not. Damn, this is awkward.¡± Theopalu replied, pinching his brow, ¡°There really isn¡¯t any other way out of here.¡±


    Hoplite examined the thick metal of the Gear Door. It might be too thick to tear through, but maybe bending and breaking the hinges or locking mechanisms could allow them inside without this guard¡¯s say. He stopped that line of thought almost as quickly as it came to him. Forced entry would only escalate hostility, and who knew how many potential hostiles lay within?


    Lance threw up her hands. ¡°By the Pillars, the second Twindil is out, no one can organize. Fine!¡± The dark-haired Watcher stood tall beside Hoplite and announced , ¡°We are simple travelers that seek passage through the tunnels. I promise that we mean your home no harm.¡±


    ¡°Curb your elf tongue,¡± the Gear Guard hissed. ¡°Simple travelers could not endure the ravages and insanity of the Marked¡¯s lands. Judging by your appearances, there¡¯s nothing common about you.¡±


    Lance¡¯s face scrunched, but this time she bit her lip instead of retorting.


    ¡°Got us there.¡± Michael shrugged. ¡°Alright then, Mr. Gear Guard, you said that I¡¯m kinda in charge thanks to my facial hair, right?¡± Cat rolled her eyes. The marine continued, ¡°Our party of super fighters need to pass through your tunnels out to the other side. The Fiends ¨Cwe call ¡®em Fiends and not Marked by the way¨C have overrun our path. And the way I see it, we¡¯re caught ¡®tween a rock and a hard place. Help a fellow beardy out?¡±


    A spell of silence followed. Hoplite marveled at how this request was the one that seemed the most credible, or worth considering.


    Finally, the intercom hissed again, ¡°Weapons will not be permitted upon your persons for the duration of your trek through. Only after accepting those terms will the Gear Door open for you.¡±


    Hands reaching for his knife and guns at his side, Hoplite barely held himself from protesting. The others of the party raised their voices against the idea.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Theopalu gathered everyone together in a group huddle and hushed their complaints. ¡°Use your heads, young ones,¡± he lectured. ¡°The only other way out is for the Coffin to open again¡­ and that isn¡¯t going to happen. Unless we plan on mining through miles of rock, this is our only way through.¡± He then began to whisper, ¡°Dangerous as they may be, the Romai have offered passage. Besides, many of you youngins have Foundation and Houses you can build. You¡¯re not helpless without weapons.¡±


    Alistair wrung his hands on his large hammer and looked away. Kid¡¯ka heaved a sigh, muttering something under his breath. Cat and Michael held their firearms close. Lance ran her fingers against the chains encircling her arms, frowning.


    ¡°What if I have weapons that I cannot remove?¡± Lance asked the intercom, ¡°These will not come off, no matter what I do.¡±


    ¡°Then you will be bound, failure to comply with this order will leave us no choice but to deny you passage,¡± the voice replied. ¡°And if your golem becomes aggressive, it will be disabled.¡±


    Lance¡¯s frown deepened, and she looked up at Hoplite, likely waiting for him to give his opinion. He wanted to deny the Gear Guard and tell him that they¡¯d not be willing to surrender their weapons, but their limited options made it difficult to be so flippant.


    Hoplite didn¡¯t like the idea, but The Soldier inside him reasoned that his suit would allow him to defend himself without much effort, even without his guns. On top of that, vampires likely needed access to his bare flesh to drain him. Out of everyone, he had the best chance of fighting his way out. But was that enough to satisfy him? He examined the group he¡¯d been traveling with. Compared to him, they were essentially naked, and taking their weapons would leave them even more vulnerable. Could their magic truly protect them against what lay within?


    A small voice filled the echoing chamber, ¡°I have faith. We¡¯ll be out before we know it and back on our quest. Don¡¯t worry, my friends.¡± The half-elf raised herself into a sitting position and forced a smile through the scar on her lip.


    ¡°Twindil¡­¡± Alistair whispered. After a brief moment, he nodded and approached the wagon, then placed his hammer beside her. After a pause, he frowned at the rest of the group and announced, ¡°You want to count the threads on your cloaks? Get to it.¡±


    ¡°Your order is not needed.¡± Hoplite stated, moving toward the wagon with everyone else.


    As infuriating as this was, there was truly no other option unless Hoplite wanted to force his way through. Yet, if these Romai did in fact have access to guns, they¡¯d be able to gun down the entire party, save for himself. Michael might be relatively fine in his tungsteel armor, but Cat¡¯s diver gear was not nearly as durable¡­ raising hostilities would be sub-optimal. He could always rush in first, by himself¡­ but his gut told him that was a bad idea. It was a strange feeling, one he rarely felt during his life, but he found that this instinct was rarely wrong whenever it did appear. He¡¯d play along with this disarmament¡­ for now.


    Once their weapons were all put away in the wagon, Michael placed his hands on his hips and announced in a proud voice, ¡°It¡¯s done! You can open that door now.¡± Perhaps being called the commanding officer had inflated his ego?


    A sharp hiss came from the door and pillars of steam erupted at four points of the ten-sided gear. A loud motor clanked to life and slowly pulled the giant door inward. Gradually, the tunnel inside was revealed to be covered in smooth, stone-gray material, somewhat reflecting the meager underground light. This material, if he wasn¡¯t mistaken, was concrete. Hoplite also saw intricate engravings lining the tops and bottoms of the walls, carved into the concrete.


    They seemed to be depicting stories of squat bearded men facing off with horrible monsters, axes in hand and shields raised. Others showed these men laboring, carrying massive blocks or rolling barrels toward a large robed figure, hands outstretched. There were even more engravings, depicting more stories than he cared to count.


    However, these carvings weren¡¯t as notable as the humanoid that stood in the now open doorway. Standing at four feet tall was a mass of brown hair that covered the majority of his facial features and most of his chest. Only a round nose, bottom lip, and sharp dark eyes poked through. The rest of the creature was stout and dressed in a dark gray military uniform that reminded Hoplite of the ancient wars on Terna that had engulfed most of the world. A steel helmet covered the top of his head, smooth and plain. A bright red insignia of the red hand and eyeball blazed on both of his gold tassled shoulders. Hoplite¡¯s attention went to the weapon in the creature¡¯s hands: a short rifle clenched tightly on the guard¡¯s thick hands.


    There was no other word for this thing except ¡°dwarf¡±. Whispers circled around the party, agreeing on the assessment with wonder. The most dwarven beings Hoplite had encountered had been at the Fiendwall, but those Wallers had been significantly taller and more human-proportioned. Just like he had learned at the Death-Day celebration, all modern Ahkoolian dwarves had interbred with humans, diluting their DNA. Could this be a purebred dwarf?


    He was not the only one there either, twenty other dwarves all stood behind him, all aiming rifles squarely at them, clad head to toe in gray steel plate armor, the metal engraved like the concrete beneath their feet. Hoplite¡¯s hypothesis was correct, they in fact had weaponry similar to that of early modern Earth, specifically the Second World War. Strangely, these guns seemed to be made of a pale wood, but where they got wood down underground, Hoplite didn¡¯t know.


    Saluting with palm out on his forehead, the first dwarf snapped his heels together and announced, ¡°For your journey inside our domain, I shall be your guide. You may call me Dundale, First Footer of the Outer Guard. I do not expect similar greetings, as your journey¡¯s conclusion outweighs formality, Unmarked.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite stated.


    The dwarf¡¯s eyes locked on him like a hungry wolf. ¡°Impressive golem.¡± His words ended on a questioning tone, but he left it hanging. Instead, his attention flashed to Halm at the back. The rifle snapped up and the guard yelled, ¡°Away, Marked, or you¡¯ll taste lead!¡± The twenty others followed suit.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fire!¡± Twindil yelped. ¡°He¡¯s aware of himself and is our friend.¡±


    Spitting on the ground, Dundale growled, ¡°No Marked shall enter our fortress, away!¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± the giant Fiend leaned down closer to Twindil, ¡°I¡¯ll find a way out and we¡¯ll meet up again. I doubt tunnels made for dwarves could fit someone like me anyway.¡± He finished with a flex.


    ¡°But¡­¡± the paladin bit her lip. ¡°You can¡¯t, not after we already lost Nolvi¡­¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t be killed and I know where you are going. This is not goodbye, healer.¡±


    She inhaled deeply, then lowered her head. ¡°Make sure to not get hurt, Halm.¡±


    The giant orc nodded and took a few steps back from the party with hands raised in peace. ¡°I will find you again, at the Rotting Ilum, if not sooner. Do not worry.¡± Halm finished, turning back to the sealed tunnel.


    Would he even be able to leave? Perhaps when the Coffin re-opens¡­ but then Halm would have to deal with the vampire. Maybe not, the creature had seemed to want the party to come this way, it may not care about Halm¡¯s presence one way or another.


    A grunt from the guard drew Hoplite¡¯s attention away from the retreating back of the Fiend, ¡°Speaking Marked and Unmarked visitors, what else will this day bring?¡± The leading dwarf shouldered the rifle again and announced, ¡°You will leave your wagon here at the entrance, bring it just inside the door, and leave it behind. We will bring our laborers up to move it for you to the other end of our complex. If you must ask questions, speak while we travel.¡±


    As Hoplite returned to his place at the head of the wagon, he noticed something he hadn¡¯t before; his radio was buzzing with activity. He bumped his chin, listening to the readouts inside his helmet and adjusting the frequency.


    ¡°I need more steel for the forge, deliver fifty ingots to my shop located in Central Square, the Bustling Blade, I will compensate you once you arrive.¡± A deep voice crackled over his radio.


    ¡°There will be a delivery charge.¡± Another deep, yet feminine voice replied, ¡°A tip will be expected as well.¡±


    ¡°A tip!?¡± The voice shouted back, ¡°Why I ought-¡±


    Hoplite adjusted the frequency again, picking up on different signals as he hoisted up the wagon bar. These dwarves had radios as well¡­ the stone of the Akan-Dark must have been too thick for their signals to reach above ground, otherwise he would have picked up on them. Yet, he only now was receiving the signals after he had passed through the Gear Door, was something else at play? Michael and Cat both paused too, glancing at each other and then at Hoplite, clearly having picked up on these signals as well..


    Outwardly, he ignored the look and began pulling the wagon, but inside his helmet he scanned the radio waves for information. He almost didn¡¯t notice that the road before him was sloping gently downward and the Gear Door hissing back into place behind him. He set down the wagon inside the concrete tunnel, the squad of dwarves all aiming their rifles at him and everyone in his company. The stone-gray tunnel was lit by a string of wire and glass light bulbs on the ceiling and it was spacious enough for even Hoplite¡¯s height.


    The Gear Guard Dundale looked over his shoulder and warned Michael, who was walking close to the wall, about something that sounded like ¡®fat-heads¡¯.


    Michael straightened up and snapped, ¡°Who¡¯re you calling fat head?¡±


    The lead dwarf answered flatly, ¡°We call it a fat head.¡± He pointed to the cluster of brown and white wide-capped mushrooms growing along the wall. ¡°And you¡¯d best not tramble them if you like breathing air.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± the marine grinned through his embarrassment.


    Dundale stopped, and the other dwarves gripped their guns tighter in response. He glared up at the party, his eyes narrowed through all his brown hair. His voice emerged as a low rumble, ¡°There are allowances we can make for outsiders, but know this: you hold no rank and therefore cannot be brash or argumentative. Pull something like that again, Incher, and you¡¯ll be torn apart.¡±


    ¡°Like, not literally, right?¡± Michael asked slowly.


    The leading guard exhaled sharply through his round nose, then resumed his march.


    ¡°Just like Basic all over again,¡± he muttered quietly.


    Hoplite stared at the mushrooms¡­ How were they growing within solid stone? There was no Earth set into the wall that he could see. Did fungus not need soil in order to grow? Admittedly Hoplite did not know, but despite that this still seemed strange. After that, the guards surrounded them, binding Lance¡¯s arms behind her back with thick ropes before they all began descending the tunnel.


    It angered Hoplite to see Lance bound like that, but he knew not why, as these were the conditions the dwarves had established for them all to gain entry into their fortress. Maybe it was because she was now the most helpless of them all now? Even Twindil, as wobbly as she was, at least had her hands free.


    The engraved tunnel ahead eventually opened up into a wide chamber, filled with many occupants. Stone tables and booths created aisles to walk down, each with a dwarf salesman or woman standing close to their wares. The stout creatures had a variety of beard colors ¨Cfrom black to blonde¨C but brown was the majority. The female dwarves notably had incredibly long hair, braided in a similar fashion to the males beards. Hoplite had been expecting pure-bred females to also possess beards, but that did not seem to be the case. None stood above four feet tall. Silence swallowed up the bustling area, each dwarf staring with wide eyes at the strangers.


    The radio station Hoplite had tuned to suddenly chimed, ¡°Newcomers in the market. Dundale leading. Five minutes until arrival.¡± A reply came just as curtly, ¡°Logged.¡± Hoplite scanned his cameras and the silent spectators for a sign of the possible speaker. They had camera¡¯s down here as well, either that or periscopes like what was at the Gear Door, for Hoplite could not spot the speaker amongst the crowd.


    Alistair and the others seemed to squirm under the pointed stares. Elum shoved his arm behind his back while Kid¡¯ka slouched deeply. Lance drew her mouth into a line, but tried to hold herself higher after she glanced at Hoplite. Michael and Cat seemed to waver between sending challenging stares back and ignoring the attention. Theopalu lingered closer to the end of the procession with the hobbling Twindil, muttering the word ¡°awkward¡± over and over to himself.


    ¡°This is Central Square, you will not be purchasing anything.¡± Dundale stated.


    The exit from the market couldn¡¯t come any sooner. Their guard took a right at a branching path, then began weaving through a strange labyrinth of twisting and diverging routes. Everywhere they went, there were engravings set into the walls, the floors, the ceilings, all intricately weaved together¡­ it was beginning to irritate his eyes. Instead of looking too closely at them, Hoplite began keeping note of the trajectory and direction they faced. A few legs of northward tunnels, then an eastern offshoot, and then northwestern curve. Many rooms passed by that he could see in his periphery: a wide area full of huge mushrooms, workshops, and even a puff of steam from a bathouse. Every dwarf they passed froze and stared, even while they were in the midst of a job.


    ¡°What is with all these etchings?¡± Elum asked, narrowing his eyes at the engravings.


    ¡°It is our history,¡± Dundale replied curtly. ¡°The history of our fortress is woven into the stone that guards us, so that we will never forget our trials and tribulations.¡±


    Eventually, their guide slowed as they entered a large oval room. This room outshone all others. Gold flecked the walls, glass lamps gave the area a soft yellow glow, and a huge steel door with gold swirling patterns lay on the other side. An ornately carved picture of dwarves, piles of gold, and three hooded figures holding out their hands over them all dominated the west wall. The east wall depicted a glowing human-like figure hovering in the air, feathered crimson wings stretching out from his back as the same hooded figures from the other mural shielded panicked dwarves that looked to be fleeing for their lives from the red-winged humanoid. Was that a depiction of the Pillar-God Oros perhaps? He was the one that had supposedly driven the Romai to extinction¡­ and the depiction here made him look outright demonic, his face contorted into a wrathful sneer. Along with the mural, finely woven rugs covered the floor. Framing the rug was a line of guards standing at attention. Similarly dressed as a Gear Guard, but with beards nearly to their knees, one at the front barked for them to halt.


    Dundale saluted sharply and announced, ¡°Dundale, First Footer of the Gear Guard, is here to bring our guests to request an audience.¡±


    ¡°Audience?¡± Alistair quietly said. ¡°¡±I thought we were going to the closest exit.¡±


    ¡°Quiet, human,¡± the long-bearded dwarf snapped, ¡°any passage is determined by our Lords. They have been expecting you. However, know that you may only address our Lords with the proper honorifics and after you are given permission. Any breach will be punished accordingly.¡± For some reason, his gray eyes lingered on Hoplite.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite stated.


    The party and guards held a long, tense pause, before Dundale nodded.


    ¡°Open the gates to our Lord''s chambers!¡± One of the guards shouted.


    Inwardly, Hoplite prepared himself for what lay within. Based on the murals, he had to assume that these ¡®Lords¡¯ that he was going to meet were in fact, vampires. Potentially Sixth Age vampires at that. He considered, just for an instant, killing every dwarf in the room and fighting their way back to the wagon¡­ but he knew that his companions would not survive such an act.


    He would need to play this game if he wanted them to survive.

 Chapter Thirty: The Long Lords

    The steel and gold door opened. Hoplite and the party entered into a large circular chamber. As everyone looked around to survey the new surroundings, Hoplite noted how uninviting the area was. The floor was little more than a steel grate, with a whirling pool of liquid darkness beneath. He estimated that it would be a fifty foot drop into the liquid, and based on how the pool spiraled, he was certain that it wasn¡¯t water. The large grate was rimmed by a solid circle of concrete, where a dozen dwarven guards stood, rifles held at rest. The Gear Guard shuffled into place along with the others at the border of the room. Hoplite estimated that he could kill at least half of the group before the first shots could be fired¡­ Perhaps a grenade would be a better use, but would the integrity of the grate hold out? The steel was thick but a concussive blast may send it plummeting to the roiling fluid below.


    Engravings lined the gray walls of the chamber as well, depicting Oros once again, his visage twisted and demonic. The snarling face covered most of the wall that welcomed them in. The rest of the room was full of carvings at floor level of dwarves fleeing into a cave in various states of panic or even death. Contrasting all of the pictures were three very real hooded figures sitting in thrones at the far end of the room, comfortably placed as a barrier against the face of the wrathful Pillar-god.


    Each of the massive metal thrones looked like twisted trees grasping desperately skyward. Small steps showed the path up to the harsh metal chair and yellow light refracted off the material from a solitary yellow lightbulb above, sharing a passing resemblance to the Harkcrystal in the Faewood. The hooded Vampire Lords looked down upon the group. Only three parts of their bodies poked out from the dark, rough-looking fabric: gnarled hands that gripped the ends of their armrests, glowing red eyes that pierced through the darkness of the hoods, and giant, flowing white beards. Suddenly, the metric for beard length made sense to Hoplite. These beings were the highest ranked, and thus had giant tapestries of hair flowing down to the floor. They made the Harkmother¡¯s head of hair look practical in comparison.


    ¡°Approach the center.¡± The dwarf on the middle throne commanded.


    And against his will, he nearly moved forward. He snapped out of it, maintaining his place. The others, however, were not able to resist the order, much to their apparent fright.


    ¡°The automaton, command it forth, lest it be disposed of.¡± The center lord said, curling his skeletal hand several times.


    Lance blinked and turned around, frowning for an instant before she said, ¡°Come on, Hoplite, let¡¯s get this over with then we can get out of here.¡±


    Hoplite felt his skin crawl at the very idea of getting closer, but still obeyed. There was a pressure hanging in the air around him, and it made him feel claustrophobic. Just one of these vampire lords was likely far stronger than Tuji, and Hoplite had nearly needed to go Wendigo to survive that encounter. A horrible sense of dread came over him as he approached the thrones, and The Child attempted to take over, to make Hoplite flee back into the tunnels. The Soldier felt the opposite, urging Hoplite to charge at the three hooded figures above, damn be the consequences. Hoplite clenched his jaw, suppressing them both. Neither of those scenarios would end well.


    The red eyes seemed to appraise everyone present. A few moments of tense silence passed before finally the vampire on the left spoke, ¡°None of you bore firearms when you approached our Gear, save for the automaton, and the two humans there. Are they common above ground?¡±


    The center dwarf shook his head, ¡°Let us introduce ourselves properly before we begin asking questions. It is not often that we receive guests here in our hall¡­ much less fresh ones.¡±


    He saw Twindil give a small but visible shudder, her skin turning a sickly pale as she stared up at the three dwarves.


    ¡°I, am Telagad In¡¯gala, First Long Lord of New Romai,¡± the center dwarf declared, ¡°With me are my brothers, First Prince Megad In¡¯gala,¡± Telagad nodded to the dwarf on his left. ¡°And Second Prince Lagoma In¡¯gala,¡± he indicated the one on his right. ¡°You may address us as ¡®my Lord¡¯ or by our titles, newbloods. Now, we have existed down here since the end of the Sixth Age, pray tell, what era is it on the surface?¡±


    ¡°It is the Tenth Age, Decuma!¡± Alistair blurted out, seemingly against his will, for his hand went over his mouth, eyes wide in shock.


    ¡°Tenth is it?¡± The Second Prince, Lagoma asked. ¡°Brother, we have been down here longer than you had thought.¡±


    ¡°Truly,¡± Telagad replied. ¡°Now, continuing on from the first question posed by Prince Megad, are firearms common on the surface world?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Elum said, knitting his eyebrows together and gritting his teeth, ¡°There are some in the Blastlands, but none like what those ones have.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ a rarity.¡± Telegad said, his pure white teeth gleaming through the darkness of his hood. Fanged teeth. ¡°This is pleasing to hear, but why is it that those humans and that automaton have such weapons? Are they from the Blastlands?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re-¡± Lance grit her teeth, her hands clenching.


    ¡°Elves. What a bothersome race of fools. You think you can stand up to my might?¡± Telegad raised a gnarled finger, ¡°Where are they from, mortal. Speak!¡± The command, words and voice all in one element, rattled through Hoplite¡¯s head.


    Lance fell to her knees as the truth was forcibly ripped from her mouth, ¡°They¡¯re Outworlders!¡±


    The guards all gasped at this revelation, and even the vampires above seemed slightly taken aback. Dundale¡¯s eyes widened, looking at Hoplite with a critical eye. Hoplite, for his part, struggled not to lift his shotgun and fire on Telegad¡­ but when he looked down to his hands, he saw that the effort was fruitless. The Magnus was back in the wagon, along with everyone else''s weapons. The Child grew angry that the vampire lord had hurt his friend, but The Soldier couldn¡¯t care less, erring caution despite his earlier urge to attack.


    Hoplite simply stood there, unsure as to how to proceed.


    ¡°In all my time, I¡¯ve not had the pleasure of meeting such creatures as you,¡± Telegad said with a honey-like sweetness. ¡°This means that your automaton is not animated by Foundation, rather it must be utilizing electricity. I can hear a hum from it, it reminds me of our generators, though none of your ears would be able to pick up on this.¡±


    He could hear the hum of the Phalanx suit? Hoplite wasn¡¯t even aware that there was a hum¡­ One of this monster¡¯s senses far outstripped Hoplite¡¯s own, what else did this vampire outclass him in? At least he could take comfort in knowing that Telegad couldn¡¯t hear his heartbeat, that would help conceal his true nature from these vampires. Hoplite still wasn¡¯t sure if that would be useful or not, but the more they didn¡¯t know about him, the better. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°The young man and woman are the Outworlders then, meaning that there is no incoming Godling War, fascinating¡­ Perhaps now is the time, brothers?¡± First Prince Megad asked.


    ¡°I do believe it is so.¡± Lagoma said, white teeth grinning through the darkness, ¡°Our claim will be reinforced by the presence of our Outworlders.¡±


    Michael frowned, ¡°Our claim? The hell do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Private-¡± Hoplite started.


    A sharp, mirthless cackle rang from the vampire lord on the right. ¡°Have you already forgotten your manners, newblood? Bow to your superior!¡± His shriveled hand clawed at the air and a pressure rang against Hoplite¡¯s inner ear.


    Michael suddenly screamed as his body was pushed forward in a precarious bow. His body trembled to hold himself upright as an invisible force seemed to balance him the rest of the way. The young marine¡¯s face contorted in pain.


    ¡°Speak out of turn or without the proper respect again, Outworlder whelp,¡± Lagoma taunted.


    Cat stared at Michael¡¯s shaky posture with wide eyes. She opened her mouth, but bit her lip shut.


    Twindil hastily knelt to one knee and lowered her head. ¡°I entreat you, Wise Second Prince Lagoma, to let our friend go.¡±


    A small exhale sounded from the vampire lord, then his hand lowered to the arm rest. ¡°Your subservience will reward you. But next time, I expect more groveling.¡±


    With that, the invisible hand that held Michael in place vanished and he stumbled forward. Sweat beaded on the man¡¯s face and he held still outside of gasping for breath.


    Bending forward more, Twindil spoke again, ¡°Please, glorious lords of New Romai, we only wish to pass through your extravagant home. We will do everything you ask, we only wish to leave unscathed.¡±


    The Long Lord Telegad leaned his hooded head against a withered hand and chuckled softly. ¡°Quite the trusting fools you are. New Romai is Ahkoolis¡¯ best kept secret. You believe that you could be trusted to roam the surface again with such information?¡± Telegad turned his head, his long beard twitching with the motion. ¡°No one leaves New Romai, especially not delicious newbloods like you.¡±


    ¡°We refuse-¡± Hoplite started before Telegad raised his hand.


    Everything froze, his mouth, his hands¡­ even his suit froze in place, as if he had activated his maglocks.


    ¡°Automatons do not speak for living beings.¡± Telegad stated, ¡°And in any case, you have no choice. As your rulers, you must do as we bid. You there, Footer, call some stout dwarves and cart the automaton away for disassembly. Outworlder technology is no doubt quite valuable.¡±


    Dundale put his fist to his chest and bowed deeply, ¡°Right away, Long Lord!¡± He yelled before pulling a large, primitive brick-like device from the pack on his back. The dwarf then pulled a long antennae out, adjusting it for a moment before finally he relayed the information over the radio. Their signals really could travel through solid stone? Or was there another means?


    Not now! This was not the time to overthink!


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Telegad said in a fond voice. His red eyes found Michael and Cat again. ¡°Now, you two Outworlders¡­ I have a great interest in the nature of your world, as anyone would, but I also have another curiosity that I want sated. I must taste your blood, and I am kind enough to let you two decide which will be sampled.¡±


    ¡°Not a chance!¡± Michael shouted, stepping in front of Cat. He maintained his glare, clearly surprised by his own actions. Then, his attention flitted to Lagoma for a fear-filled second.  ¡°Er, not a chance, Long Lord.¡±


    All the guards in attendance then aimed their rifles at him, but he paid them no mind. Hoplite¡¯s damn mouth wouldn¡¯t move, no orders could escape his sealed lips. He struggled against his paralysis, but his suit wouldn¡¯t budge!


    The three Long Lords, surprisingly, began to laugh, the heartless sound echoing through the chamber. After a while, the laughter died out, all of them shaking their heads in disbelief.


    ¡°This one will make a fine servant, I think¡­ is this an Outworlder trait?¡± Megad asked, running gnarled hands through his beard.


    ¡°The foolishness, or the fact he did not obey?¡± Telegad asked, amused.


    ¡°Both I think.¡± Lagoma said, ¡°Though the foolishness may be unique to this boy.¡±


    ¡°Woman.¡± Telegad said, pointing to Cat, ¡°Fall.¡± She promptly fell to her knees.


    ¡°Suggestion does not work on the thick-headed, it seems.¡± Megad muttered.


    Hoplite continued to struggle in vain against his invisible restraints, but it was no use. The other members of the party seemed equally frozen, only able to move their heads.


    Telegad then raised his hand. Michael rose into the air, floating up toward the vampire. Hoplite strained, gritting his teeth as he mustered a herculean effort-


    ¡°I am the Son of Zodd!!!¡± Kid¡¯ka shouted suddenly.


    His voice, which was normally so broken and awkward, no longer seemed so, filled with unwavering confidence. The words echoed through the chamber, leaving only pure silence in their wake. Hoplite¡¯s eyes widened with shock as he stared at Kid¡¯ka, everything anomalous about the man suddenly clicking into place. The unnatural strength, the nigh-superhuman speed¡­ Kid¡¯ka was a Godling.


    Michael fell to the floor with a thud, the vampires all standing from their thrones. The guards surrounding them aimed their rifles directly at Kid¡¯ka, who strangely, no longer seemed to be paralyzed. The guards, while they did keep their aim on Kid¡¯ka, seemed to be quivering slightly, their aim shaky.


    ¡°I will not let you fiends bring any of my companions harm!¡± Kid¡¯ka shouted, raising his hands, ¡°Have at you!¡±


    ¡°Using an act of arrogance to give yourself power?¡± Telegad questioned, ¡°Clever, little Pillar-Born, but it will not be enough to close the gap between you and I.¡±


    An act of arrogance? Hadn¡¯t Alistair mentioned something like that before? Did that mean that he was also a-


    Kid¡¯ka inhaled sharply, bracing his feet against the grate before he leapt forward, flying through the air toward Telegad, fists poised to strike. However, Kid¡¯ka did not manage to get further than that. Like lightning, Telegad¡¯s long beard split, forming long prehensile tendrils of hair that snapped forward, entangling Kid¡¯ka. Telegad laughed, but in that triumphant laughter, there was an undertone of relief.


    The hair completely encapsulated Kid¡¯ka like a cocoon. Telegad pressed his hands together, the tips of every finger meeting to form a pyramid, ¡°Be blind, be deaf, be nothing!¡± The vampire Lord shouted, raw Golden Flame appearing in the empty space between his hands.


    Theopalu flinched, visibly gritting his teeth as he stared at Telegad, hands clenching and unclenching¡­ was the old elf able to move? How was that possible? Before he could think on it further, Kid¡¯ka screamed. Foundation sped down the silvery beard, settling on the portion Kid¡¯ka was trapped in.


    In a moment, the light vanished and Kid¡¯ka fell to the ground. Smoke curled up from his still form. Even after all that, his limbs twitched and tried to force himself back up.


    ¡°Kid¡¯ka!¡± Twindil yelled.


    ¡°Idiot!¡± Alastair hissed.


    Lance¡¯s eyes stretched as far as they could go. A faint whisper came from her, ¡°Pillar-Born¡­¡±


    ¡°Please¡­¡± a husky whisper came from the burned fighter, ¡°One of them has a sealed Coffin. We can take at least one.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be foolish,¡± The paladin¡¯s voice grew strained.


    ¡°Pillar-Born.¡± Lance said a little louder this time.


    Elum, Alastiar, and Twindil gave the Watcher their full attention. Theopalu ducked his head and muttered another ¡°awkward¡± to himself. Michael and Cat looked on curiously.


    ¡°How long¡­?¡± Lance choked. ¡°How long did you think you could lie to us?¡± She strained her body against the invisible hold. ¡°Which of you are world-ending Pillar-Born? Is this quest to kill Kazon some sort of ploy to ascend to godhood and decimate Ahkoolis to christen the new age?! I trusted you! I TRUSTED you filthy Pillar-Born spawn!¡± Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes.


    Twindil gulped and tried to placate her, ¡°Lancela-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t use my name! Don¡¯t you dare call me anything but your enemy!¡± Her words began shuddering through her emotions. ¡°The age really is ending. Oh Pillars, everything is going to be razed to the ground. The last years of Decuma¡­ and I have traveled with one who may kill us all.¡± Her head leaned forward, skin turning deathly pale.


    A small hum came from one of the vampire lords. ¡°Pillar-Born and Outworlders. What a curious age the surface finds itself embroiled in.¡± Megad observed.


    ¡°My brothers, we have much to discuss.¡± Long Lord Telegad pointed a finger at the guards around the room. ¡°Escort our prisoners to the cells, use the suppressor cuffs.¡±


    Though none of the dwarves spoke, the hesitance was plain on their faces.


    ¡°There is nothing to fear.¡± Lagoma raised his hand and commanded, ¡°Sleep.¡±


    With one word, the entire party closed their eyes and fell limp. Hoplite stood, nearly stunned by this display of raw magical power. This was but a fraction of a vampire lord¡¯s power, he guessed, based on the ease with which he''d casted it.


    While his focus had been on the others, he suddenly felt himself tipping over. Behind him, a camera showed that a large steel wagon and burly dwarves had arrived. Dundale and the other Gear Guards directed the stout, oil-stained dwarves to load Hoplite onto it.


    Half of his world was now the hard steel of this cart, with the other half being that of the ceiling. The Child screamed in terror, while the Soldier struggled to be free, to crush the skulls of the hostiles attempting to capture him. The two continued to argue as he was carted away, still unable to do so much as move.

 Chapter Thirty-One: Outworlder Blood

    ¡°Awaken.¡± The command shook Michael''s body into responding. His eyes shot open and confusion jumbled his thoughts for a split second. What he saw before him made his heart skip a beat.


    The lead vampire who had burned Kid¡¯ka loomed close to his face. Being near like this, the features of the vampire¡¯s face were horrifyingly clear. His skin was leathery, with deep wrinkles etching themselves into the taut pale skin. Piercing crimson eyes stared out from the skull¡¯s caverns right through Michael¡¯s soul, sending a shudder down his spine. Telegad¡¯s white fanged teeth were oddly symmetrical, contrasting with the thing¡¯s ugly face. The bright red gum line above these gleaming teeth were also revealed when the vampire¡¯s lips retracted in a terrifying snarl.


    Michael instinctively jerked away, but it was a fruitless effort. Whatever magic these monsters held, it was too much for him to physically fight against. That sure as hell didn¡¯t stop him from trying though. He gave a shout mixed with anger and terror, muscles straining in vain against the invisible force.


    ¡°Interruption or not, I will still drink of your Outworlder blood.¡± The vampire hissed quietly. ¡°You may be strong enough to endure the transformation.¡±


    ¡°Transformation?¡± His heart crashed into his throat. ¡°I ain¡¯t turning into one of you, ya ugly freak!¡±


    ¡°Brother¡­?¡± Lagoma asked, one long gnarled finger drumming his steel armrest, ¡°You would bestow our gift upon an outsider so impulsively? You should simply taste of him, granting him eternal life is out of the question.¡±


    ¡°I must agree with Prince Lagoma.¡± Megad nodded, ¡°Vampirism is a reward for the most diligent and ambitious of dwarves, those who seek to serve us loyally for eternity¡­ he is neither a dwarf, nor loyal.¡± He pointed out, his own fingers beginning to drum on his armrest, ¡°I implore you brother, you must re-consider this course of action.¡±


    ¡°I have my reasons, dear brothers.¡± Telegad assured, his snarl turning to a smirk for an instant, ¡°I will explain after this is resolved.¡±


    ¡°Forget it!¡± Michael shouted before spitting in Telegad¡¯s face.


    ¡°Obedience will suit you,¡± Telegad replied, wiping the spit off his face before he suddenly lunged forward.


    Pain shot up Michael¡¯s neck. A violent scream ripped from his lungs. His body tried to writhe, tried to escape, but once more nothing happened. His eyes darted wildly around for help. Hope died as he saw that everyone in the squad had collapsed¡­ staying motionless on the floor. Not even Hoplite could interfere, being carted away like a heap of junk, unable to do as much as twitch a finger. No one could help. No one¡­


    Despair choked Michael¡¯s throat. Pain scrambled the rest of his thinking into struggling again.


    Finally, the vampire lord released his bite. The shriveled corpse-like being smirked and wiped at his mouth.


    ¡°It tastes smoky, this one enjoys tobacco, a flavor I normally despise¡­ yet this unique flavor is only complimented by it.¡± He said as Michael convulsed, his skin having gone cold, ¡°This crimson is truly unlike any other blood I have tasted, not like local humans for certain. The woman will be left unchanged, I wish to share this blood with you, my brothers. The woman can be sampled over time, we cannot drain her of everything she has, lest she perish.¡±


    ¡°I am more interested in questioning her.¡± Megad said, ¡°Though the thought is tantalizing, the sampling can wait until after I learn what I want to know, I need her mind sharp.¡±


    ¡°I too have questions.¡± Lagoma said, ¡°I will be patient, as brother Megad said.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Telegad nodded.


    The invisible hold lowered Michael back to the ground, to where the rest of his companions were. His neck pulsed with pain, and he swore he felt some blood dripping down from the bite, flowing down into the grate below him.The new wound and its implications couldn¡¯t be allowed to solidify in his mind. He closed his eyes and wished fervently that this had to be some sort of dream.


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    ¡°Guards,¡± Telegad said, ¡°strip our prisoners and place them in high risk containment cells. Do not forget the cuffs and dig up our Sanctioning Bands to determine which of them bear the Pillar Gods¡¯ parentage. Fanged Guard Thalmar, you will be tasked in monitoring our Outworlder ally.¡± One of the longer-bearded dwarves saluted and focused a red-eyed stare at Michael.


    Michael watched the proceedings without feeling part of them. Everyone was slowly loaded up into stretchers and carts and moved two at a time. Cat and Kid¡¯ka were taken first. The marine couldn¡¯t help but feel a sudden spark of kinship for the Godling. He¡¯d risked exposing a secret that made a normal citizen of this planet flip out in fear and disgust to help him of all people. Why?


    Next Lance and Twindil were carted away, then Alastair and Elum, then Theopalu and himself. He gritted his teeth as he stared at the ancient elf that was supposed to have taken them the safe way through Akan Var. Thanks to him, they were all trapped and at these dwarf vampire maniacs¡¯ mercy. They should have turned back sooner or found a way out of the tunnels. Something! Why didn¡¯t Theopalu do anything if he was so used to fighting vampires?


    His throat clenched as his mind danced around his wound again. If they hadn¡¯t listened to Theopalu, then he wouldn¡¯t have been bitten. If he, Lance, Cat, and Hoplite hadn¡¯t joined these crazy guys on their route through the Fiendwood, then this wouldn¡¯t have happened. He shut his eyes as blurring tears crept through his eyelids.


    Michael retreated deep into his thoughts as the jailer dwarves obeyed their orders to strip and cuff him. A ragged loincloth two sizes too small was left to cover his hips. Green handcuffs that seemed to eternally radiate a chill fastened his hands in front of his body. Once the restraints were secured, he found that his body could move again. However, the freedom was cut short as he was promptly thrown into a tiny cell.


    He had but a moment to glance around the stone walls and solitary bucket in one corner before the thick steel door was shut. All light vanished.


    Darkness choked him. Another scream roared from him. He threw himself against the door and bounced off with a fresh bruise. Pain didn¡¯t stop him. He tried again and again to scramble against the steel barrier. The smell of rotting corpses crept into his nostrils, causing him to momentarily forget his blood loss. He slammed against the metal door again, and again, desperately screaming as he was left alone¡­


    In the dark.


    Eternity passed, his screaming having left his throat raw with pain. Still he panicked, though his shouts were more suppressed. He simply didn¡¯t have the energy to fight against the steel door any longer, the blood loss finally having caught up with him. Instead, he opted to curl up on the ground, ignoring the horrid smell of his rotting comrades. It had been three days since the pod crashed on the planet, surely someone was coming to save him, to get him out of here? The emergency signal was still going, right?


    He coughed and sputtered as his throat finally failed to let out another scream, and instead, only a silent cry escaped his mouth, hot tears flowing down his face. His back and throat ached, and the bite wounds- bite wounds? Where had he gotten them? His brain was a fog, and he even found himself struggling to recall his name.


    More time passed, how much he couldn¡¯t tell. It could have been minutes, hours, years¡­ it didn¡¯t matter, he just wanted the light back¡­ to see the sun- He winced at thinking of it, the thought of sunshine, for whatever reason, made him uncomfortable. His teeth hurt too, particularly his canines. After some more time, he felt an unbearable pulsating pain in those teeth, a pain that became so horrid that he opted to rip them out with his bare hands.


    The pain only barely subsided as something forced its way through the gum line where the teeth he¡¯d ripped out had been. His hands clutched his jaw at the agony, and once it ceased¡­ he felt two hard, pointed things where his canines had been. Had he not actually ripped out his own teeth? No¡­ these new ones were far longer than normal. When would someone come for him? He was actively mutating in the pod, if they took too long¡­ he¡¯d be unrecognizable by time they found him.


    He crawled through a puddle of his own sweat around the ground of the pod, trying to reach the cockpit. Michael needed to ensure that the signal was still going- He winced again, curling in on himself as every inch of his skin exploded with tearing agony. It was like a thousand microscopic shards of glass had been inserted into every individual pore he had. Something seemed to be leaking from each pore, though it wasn¡¯t sweat¡­ it was too thick, and smelled of copper. He bled from thousands of cuts, and it pooled around him, his skin seeming to freeze over as finally the last drop of it left him. Michael coughed again, the smell of rot disappearing only to be replaced with copper. The blood around him smelled¡­ it smelled good.


    It made his mouth nearly water to think about slurping it up off the cold ground. He shook his head, what was he doing!? The darkness continued to press in around him, but with the smell of rot overwhelmed by copper, he willed himself to open his eyes. Only to see clearly what surrounded him. He stood shakily from the ground, blinking in shock as he could perfectly see everything. Was there a light on? No¡­ everything was colorless, was he wearing night vision goggles? His hand went to his face, confused as he felt only his eyelids. How had he gotten here?


    His head pounded, and a shaky hand went to his brow as he strained to remember. He¡¯d crashed planetside, he remembered that much. Foggy details replayed themselves, a dark-haired woman scolding a towering man clad in black and red armor, a night spent with a gorgeous blonde haired woman with pointed ears, a long journey across a big bridge¡­ to now. How had he ended up in this cell? Michael blinked, confused as he sat back down, drawing his knees to his chin as he continued to think.


    How had he gotten here? Why was everything so cold? There was blood everywhere on the ground surrounding him, every drop that had been in his body¡­ so why was he alive? Mich- Mi-


    He shook his head, features firming as he said, ¡°Michael.¡± To himself, his voice hoarse, ¡°I¡¯m a marine¡­ A marine¡­¡±


    That was right¡­ he was a Ternan marine of the Eighth Arm. He crashed on this planet after Earth fell, with Hoplite Thirty-Seven having found him. Michael struggled to remember further details, but the fog in his head made it a struggle. He was so damn tired, and his head ached something fierce. If he just had some water, he might be able to stave of the pain a bit¡­ he felt thirsty. Yet, the thought of water didn¡¯t seem tantalizing, instead he found himself staring at the blood on the ground, his blood. He could see no color in this room, yet he knew that the pool beneath him was an appetizing crimson hue, the scent of copper flooding his nose and making his fangs ache.


    Slowly, he lowered his face to the stone floor, taking in the scent before he leaned in to lap up the fluid. Michael, upon realizing what he was about to do, recoiled from the blood in disgust. Not at the blood¡­ at himself. Had he really been about to do that? Before he could answer this question, he coughed violently, falling onto his side in a puddle of his own blood, the darkness returning to claim him.

 Chapter Thirty-Two: Dundale鈥檚 Task

    ¡°Get out of here, Stoutfoot,¡± an exasperated voice greeted Dundale at the metal doorway, ¡°there¡¯s nothing to guard here.¡±


    Dundale Stoutfoot examined the group of engineers. The usual ragtag assortment of Footers and apprenticing Inchers in their greasy, grime-smeared outfits filled the wide workshop. Half of them sat at workbenches that lined the walls, fiddling with the Outworlder weapons. The other half of the crew surrounded the behemoth automaton, a few ladders placed against its frame. Experienced Footers were atop these ladders, investigating the various seams of the construct. He heard one of them swear loudly and snapped about where the power tools had disappeared to. Another dwarf began bashing at the golem¡¯s armor with a mallet, cursing after it became apparent that the dark metal remained undamaged despite his efforts.


    Excitement coursed through his veins as he examined the towering mass of metal. Outworlder tech was even more magnificent than he could have imagined. The way the golem had navigated and walked with human-like experience was beyond any advancements of the Romai. Add in that somehow a contraption of that size could move without a tunnel-sized generator and so quietly left his brain stumbling for explanations. What secrets could be unlocked by examining such prized technology? The possibilities almost made Dundale dizzy.


    Attention from the workers forced Dundale¡¯s wonder back into the smug exterior a good Romai dwarf ought to carry. He was treading outside of his regular stomping ground and he had to justify it.


    The Gear Guard pointed to his shoulder and the lack of an ¡°on shift¡± clip. Without waiting, he approached the upright golem, craning his neck to look at the smaller box of a head the thing had. ¡°None of you saw this golem move or respond to its surroundings. I can provide insight.¡±


    A sigh followed. The head engineer, Ketbram Surestone, wiped his hands on an oil-streaked towel and approached. His brown beard was allowed to grow to a foot and a half to show that he was close to promotion, but still a few years off. He was the strongest of the work-dwarves in his sector, muscled well for his age, and had an unfortunate bald spot creeping over his head. Overall, not a bad dwarf, but a little territorial.


    Ketbram jerked a finger at the humanoid hunk of metal and  grunted, ¡°Alright then Stoutfoot, enlighten the team.¡±


    Dundale felt a few more eyes on him. He kept his back straight and spoke, ¡°Surely you¡¯ve noticed that the golem¡¯s head is little more than a box with no visors to speak of. When he moved, he never seemed to turn his head. It can be surmised that he has many hidden cameras that he observes his surroundings with.¡±


    ¡°Toad Slime!¡± One of the workers cursed from his perch near the Outworlder¡¯s head. ¡°I couldn¡¯t find any trace of glass or lenses along the entire surface of this slab of metal.¡±


    ¡°Not just any metal,¡± one dwarf in a thick black apron mused, ¡°a rare, tough alloy. If any piece of that material comes undone, I must smelt it immediately to solve this mystery. It¡¯s far too resilient compared to our metals.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Outworlder tech, of course it¡¯s going to be alien to us,¡± an Incher said.


    ¡°Different, but not better.¡± Ketbram spoke firmly, eyes narrowing.


    All other dwarves immediately echoed the saying, including Dundale.


    ¡°As I was saying, wise guy,¡± the dwarf near the golem¡¯s head sniffed, ¡°there¡¯s no way that there are cameras on the surface. We don¡¯t see a need for your Stoutfoot kind to poke your nose into our business.¡±


    Dundale smirked, ¡°Then you know his designation?¡±


    ¡°Yeah: Golem.¡±


    ¡°He has a name and a number. Nothing of the like has been printed on the material?¡±


    The combative Footer grunted and squinted his eyes.


    Dundale had done enough stirring up of their egos. Now he had to see if the automaton was voice operated or not. He made a show of asking permission to stand in front of the contraption to patronize the engineers, then called up, ¡°Define Hoplite.¡±


    No response came.


    Automatons likely couldn¡¯t be provoked into a response, but the Gear Guard voiced one all the same, ¡°Tell me, does the number thirty-seven mean that you are part of an exclusive group, or are you simply an outdated model made at the beginning of your factory¡¯s run?¡±


    Again silence.


    Feeling pressure to get Hoplite to speak, Dundale tried one last time, ¡°Perhaps you only listen to that elf woman. Shall we get a recording of her giving you an order to respond or do we have to open you up and rewire you ourselves?¡±


    The engineers began chuckling. Dundale forced the disappointment down. Hoplite might have been powered down, was in need of a charge, or was still locked down from the Long Lords¡¯ magic. Regardless, the secrets the Outworlder tech carried would be unearthed eventually. Dundale just had to accept that he personally couldn¡¯t lead the investigation.


    ¡°Aw, your big show of knowledge didn¡¯t do anything.¡± A dwarf on the ladder by Hoplite¡¯s head jeered. ¡°Go back to the door that never opens. Or, used to¡­¡± He shook his head and beard, then resumed trying to pry the head piece off.


    Just as Ketbram took a step closer, another dwarf entered the room. All others froze at the intrusion. The reddened eyes of the arrival pierced Dundale and he felt a little shudder run through his spine.


    Wurmdring Gleamhilt filled the entryway with his presence. His graying beard reached down to his feet as all Third Footers wore it. Braids of hair framed his mouth and climbed down his jowls. Small jewel decorations in his facial hair denoted him as immaculately ranked. On top of that was the pale, sagging skin, glowing eyes, and pointed teeth of a vampire in the Fanged Guard. He raised a withering finger directly at Dundale and hissed, ¡°I have come to fetch Dundale Stoutfoot. His presence is requested by our First Prince.¡±


    Dundale¡¯s heart may as well have hit the floor. He gulped and bowed deeply to his superior, then marched to the vampire¡¯s side. Wurmdring bared his teeth slightly, then glided for the northern tunnels. As Dundale left the workshop, he heard more laughter and jeers follow him out, along with promises to write a flattering obituary.


    His mind twisted and turned over any possible reason why he specifically was being requested. The Long Lords never asked for a mere Footer. Promotion was always started by announcing a ceremony and a Shaving was preceded by a riotous call for justice and a gathering in a public square. Even a Matching had some pomp and the prospective families were given advanced notice of the marriage. Coming up empty, Dundale glanced at Wurmdring for a hint, but found nothing behind the beady red eyes.


    He was not allowed into the grand throne room as he had been yesterday. Instead he was directed to First Prince Megad¡¯s private quarters a short distance away. Dundale¡¯s heart pounded in his ears as Wurmdring eased the door open and gestured for him to enter.


    A room fitting of the Long Lords welcomed him with beautiful engravings of gold and silver encircling the room, depicting a land only known about through ancestral tales of vegetation and sunlight. Ancient scraps of paper hung encased in glass frames along one wall, and a small bookshelf of the dwarves'' most ancient of texts stood next to a mineral table that had been carved to mimic wood. Dundale¡¯s breath caught in his throat at the sight of so many signs and relics of the above world.


    Two schools of thoughts shaped the Romai in their education. One was to love the tunnels, rock, and soil and to want nothing else. The other was the desperate dream to reclaim their rightful place as ruling class among the races of Ahkoolis on the surface. Each idea had had its time of power through the years, but both unquestioningly bowed to the Long Lords¡¯ decree. It was noteworthy to Dundale that Prince Megad had decorated his room to undoubtedly proclaim alliance toward the dominion sect.


    Then again, Prince Megad was the dreamer of the Long Lords, the driver of innovation and pursuer of greater advancement. Younger Prince Lagoma held onto traditions and enforced them with such vigor that the term ¡°Lagomian¡± had become a synonym with ¡°unyielding¡± centuries ago. Long Lord Telegad acted as the responsible mediator between the two, reigning in unachievable dreams and undoing staunch unchangingness. Truly, the trio were the perfect rulers.


    ¡°You may approach, Dundale Stoutfoot, my child,¡± a soft croon came from the adjacent room.


    The Gear Guard found his knees knocking and his breath unsteady in his lungs. After a small push from Wurmdring, he rounded the corner.


    Glorious First Prince Megad raised his hooded head from examining a collection of brown scraps of paper upon a golden table. His personal guard, three Fanged Guards in total, held sections of his luxurious beard off the floor. It was well-known that the first thirty years of vampirism was devoted to attending a Long Lord at all times. It offered a good buffer for the strongest of weaknesses to ebb and to learn from a lord how to properly manage their new bodies and skills. Once graduated from attending duties, they¡¯d be assigned a sector of work to preside over, as Wurmdring had been assigned to patrol oversight.


    As any good Romai would be, Dundale felt privileged to be in the company of so many vampires. He once again saluted and bowed deeply as his voice was unable to work.


    After a small pause, the wondrous voice of the First Prince said, ¡°Tenth age. Curious, since in all the ancient scriptures, ten is an important number. Ten is the number of luck, and it is the number of finality.¡±


    No one dared to speak. First Prince Megad continued to muse softly as he took a few steps closer to Dundale. ¡°Outworlders and Pillar-Born alike now fill our cells. And who should be the one to be posted at our Gear Door to welcome them inside other than the dwarf who has been the most outspoken about the wonders of the surface?¡± A skeletal hand rested on Dundale¡¯s shoulder, then curved around his head to lift him from the bow. First Prince Megad smiled gently through his wizened flesh. ¡°What are the odds?¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    He couldn¡¯t form any words that could describe the rush of emotions. He simply held still, staring into the Long Lord¡¯s red eyes.


    ¡°Tell me honestly,¡± the vampire lord removed his hand, but the warmth remained in his expression, ¡°if left to your own devices, would you speak with our prisoners?¡±


    Dundale glanced at Wurmdring behind him and answered properly, ¡°The cells are not in my guard jurisdiction, gracious prince, so it would be beyond my station to-¡±


    ¡°Honestly.¡±


    He gulped and lowered his eyes. ¡°Yes, my lord.¡±


    The smirk from Wurmdring hinted at something malicious being planned, but the First Prince instead reached into his robe and pulled out a small emblem shaped like a shield. A gasp emerged from all the attending vampires.


    Prince Megad clipped the golden shield to Dundale¡¯s uniform where his ¡°on shift¡± pin usually resided. The vampire lord explained, ¡°Ambition and tenacity will be rewarded. You would seek out answers from the Unmarked without prompting. Therefore, I will enable your curiosity on the one condition that every tidbit you learn, I will hear of as well.¡±


    ¡°My lord¡­¡± Dundale gasped, then bowed deeply again. ¡°You are far too gracious. Thank you!¡± His mind raced at the possibilities, at what he could say to each of the prisoners to best draw the truth out of each one. The elf girl clearly hated the Pillar-Born so she could be played against her fellows. Each one could provide untold wells of information if he was careful and clever enough. Already a plan was forming in his mind and he felt his feet itch for action.


    ¡°First Prince, if I may,¡± Wurmdring stepped forward with a grunt. ¡°You speak of rewarding curiosity, then one question lingers in my and all the Fanged Guard¡¯s minds. That Outworlder that Long Lord Telegad bit, how does he rank? Surely you can¡¯t expect us to treat that human as one of our own?¡±


    The hooded figure waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Consider him like a fat head. He provides us a service, but he is nothing more than flora. No race is as precious as the dwarves.¡±


    Wurmdring grinned and saluted.


    Dundale hesitantly felt the gold pin at his shoulder and said, ¡°I will interrogate our prisoners, my lord, and bring back the spoils of knowledge. May I leave to fulfill your will now?¡±


    First Prince Megad answered kindly, ¡°You have my permission. Fortune favors you, Dundale Stoutfoot. Do not squander it.¡±


    He saluted, then all but burst into a run, eager to begin his work.


    Psychology translated well across all sentient races of Ahkoolis. This simplicity gave Dundale a starting point of offering kindness after the dismal incarceration process. From there he would adjust to play off the small tidbits he¡¯d picked up about any words or actions he¡¯d observed from the outsiders. Energized by the possibilities, he moved quickly to the high security cells, a pile of spare blankets filling his arms.


    Three Footer guards chatted with each other, rifles held loosely as they firmly grasped mugs of mushroom ale. One spotted Dundale and told him to turn back. A flash of the golden badge had the three of them choking on their drinks and appraising Dundale in a new light.


    The guard with a black beard said that the sanctioning crew was talking with the blonde male humanoid at present and to not interrupt. Other than that, he was free to do as he pleased. Dundale nodded and entered the dank, sparsely lit corridor.


    Romai prisons were pits of despair by design. If a dwarf did something egregious enough to surpass a Shaving, public humiliation, and even slave labor, then he or she was usually left to rot before being Drained. Cleaning crews never touched the halls, leaving mold and mushrooms to choke the air with their spores. Water dripped down from the ceiling on occasion, staining the stone walls with slimy trails.


    Taking in a deep breath to reassure himself, Dundale approached the first iron door and opened the eye slat. With only a distant light bulb to light the interior, he had to take a moment before he could see the occupant inside.


    Soft mumbling came from the occupant, the red-skinned human-like being that normally wore little clothes. Dundale hadn¡¯t caught his name, so he had little to work off of for this prisoner. However, that lack of a foothold had no drawbacks. The red-skinned thing ignored Dundale completely even after several loud calls for attention. Instead, the prisoner seemed to be talking to his own graying hand, and it seemed to writhe back. After a minute or so of failed attempts, the Gear Guard moved on after stuffing a blanket through the food slat.


    Next was the wrinkled elf, but speaking to him too proved rather fruitless. He lay on his side and snored loudly through all of the attempts at questions. Whether it was a tactic or genuine tiredness, it mattered little. Dundale left a blanket for him in case of future conversations before leaving.


    Then came the Outworlder woman. Even after the blanket was given, she loudly proclaimed that she¡¯d trained against interrogation tactics and refused to betray the Octopus. Amused by the idea of a human serving a mythical slimy creature, he asked further about it, but was met with the repeated sentiment. There was little to be learned from her stubbornness this early into her imprisonment.


    However, before Dundale closed the eye slat in the door, the Outworlder asked in a gentler voice, ¡°How is Michael?¡±


    After getting clarification that this was the other Outworlder¡¯s name, Dundale said truthfully that he had not checked on him yet.


    She hesitantly admitted, ¡°He doesn¡¯t do all that well with the dark. And if he¡¯s in a pit like this¡­ He¡¯s a bit of an idiot, but I can¡¯t stand the thought of him in the dark.¡±


    So, the bravado of standing down the Long Lords to protect her could indicate that Michael and other fellow Outworlders had a strong sense of unity in their species. That would be good to keep in mind. Dundale attempted reassurance. ¡°Your ally will not have many problems with the dark moving forward.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±


    That¡¯s right, she had been sleeping while Michael was bitten. Dundale clarified, ¡°He¡¯s been bestowed the honor of vampirism. His abilities will give him full sight in-¡±


    ¡°You bastards bit him?!¡± the woman yelled. ¡°What the hell? How dare you!¡±


    This angry response shocked him¡­ it made no sense. Becoming a vampire was the highest achievement one could aim for. He attempted to reason this point, but his explanations fell on deaf ears and the chance to coax more conversation from her had been lost. Dundale begrudgingly accepted the loss and moved down the cells.


    The conversation with the audacious one, Kid¡¯ka as he was called, went just about the same. Standing and clenching his cuffed fists in one corner of his cell, the pale-skinned Pillar-Born demanded the right to spar before conversation could be earned. Hesitation and stuttering took over the prisoner¡¯s speech, ¡°I won¡¯t spill the cats. I mean, let the beans out of the¡­ can? You get the picture.¡± Dundale would return to the Son of Zodd later to see how long that rule would stand against prolonged solitude.


    Outworlder Michael¡¯s cell was next, however, no questions could be asked as the new vampire lay in a puddle of his own blood, seemingly in a state of sleep. Protocol gave a week¡¯s leniency for any new vampire to recover himself from the extreme bodily changes. Unwilling to breach that sanctity, he slipped a blanket in and left quietly.


    Finally, Dundale encountered the elf girl. He started by slipping in the blanket, then watched through the eye slat. She leaned against one wall, her arms were covered in suppressor cuffs to hinder the use of Foundation and her magical chains. Her lower arms looked almost like clubs with them on. She had been called Lance, but Dundale had a feeling that addressing her so informally would raise her defenses rather than ease her into conversation. Instead, he began with, ¡°Truly, this age is lost when the ilk of the Pillars ease their way into your confidence. How long have you given them your trust?¡±


    She turned her head and glared. ¡°You¡¯ve got some nerve thinking you can get information out of me after taking everything away.¡±


    The resistance gave him the hint that he should change tactics. ¡°But you are the only one I can turn to.¡± The dwarf paused for effect, leaning away to let more light in for a beat, then continued, ¡°You see, there¡¯s a chance that a few of those people you called companions can slip through the cracks of our sanctioning bands.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. Sanctioning bands force the truth.¡± She pointed out with a sharp glare.


    ¡°And yet, there are three Pillar Gods that we don¡¯t have the names of.¡± Dundale let his voice dip into a lower, pleading note.


    The elf spoke slowly, ¡°Nothing will change for me if I keep quiet or talk, what¡¯s the point in helping?¡±


    He shuffled closer to the door and spoke conspiratorially, ¡°I personally cannot guarantee any change in your imprisonment, but I can put in a good word for you if you prove cooperative.¡±


    ¡°Empty promises,¡± She scoffed.


    ¡°A Romai dwarf would never lie about Pillar-Born matters.¡± His voice eased into firmness bordering on anger. ¡°From infants, we have had the fear and hate of the genocider Oros ingrained into our race. It was a distant dream generations ago to return the bloodshed upon the children of the gods. And now you¡¯ve witnessed for yourself that Long Lord Telegad himself can stand up to a Pillar-Born without fear, without injury.¡± Another purposeful pause, then a whisper, ¡°We must rid Ahkoolis of their scourge, and our lords are capable of achieving this end.¡±


    Through the dark, he could see that she had turned her attention towards the far end of the room with a frown shaping her eternal face. Dundale let the silence bear down upon the two of them, tempting her to fill it. It lasted longer and longer, but still the Gear Guard held to his tactic.


    ¡°You¡¯ll kill them?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The Long Lords may wish to interrogate them first as much as possible, or they may Drain them of their blood. It is uncertain if consuming the essence of a godling would benefit our leaders. But yes, the goal will be eventually to execute all the Pillar-Born here, I would imagine. Will you help ensure that none slip through our screening process?¡±


    Her shoulders raised, then sank with her deep sigh. ¡°Can you make sure that it¡¯s a quick death?¡±


    ¡°I can see what can be done,¡± he said softly.


    Lance didn¡¯t look in his direction, but she said all the same, ¡°Afina, the goddess of Tranquility; Guile, the god of Cunning; and Ankoriss, the god of Destruction.¡±


    Dundale¡¯s heart leapt at the new information, but kept it tactfully out of his voice. Instead, he reassured the elf, ¡°You will be rewarded, I promise.¡±


    She simply buried her head in her arms and knees and sank into silence.


    After sliding the slat closed, the dwarf approached the last two holding cells. One guard was stationed outside of the room where the blonde man was being processed with the sanctioning band. Dundale passed along the names of the three unknown gods to him and felt a little burst of pride at the confusion the Second Footer showed.


    That left the paladin¡¯s interrogation as last. Dundale assembled what he knew about the elvish woman called Twindil in his head. She seemed to have been able to seal a coffin in the Akan Dark, though the effort had left her weak, and she didn¡¯t have the pride to forgo bowing to the Long Lords. Something about her seemed to indicate a slight maternal instinct, and it might prove useful to play off it.


    He slid in the blanket and after spotting her through the gloom of the cell, remarked, ¡°If you knew that one of your companions was a godling spawn, what are the chances that you are one as well?¡±


    She spotted the cloth and scooped it up, wrapping it around her shoulders. After settling, the blonde woman asked, ¡°Is that you, Dundale?¡±


    A frown forced his eyebrows down. He hadn¡¯t expected any of the prisoners to remember his name or even his voice. Pushing through the surprise, he admitted, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I thought you were a Gear Guard. Do you also guard the cells of dangerous prisoners?¡± She asked, leaning her head back against the wall.


    ¡°No. Personal curiosity brought me here.¡± He found himself feeling more at ease with her, as if she was somehow influencing his emotions. With the suppressor cuffs keeping even passive abilities cut off from Foundation, the relaxation had to be non-magical. Words became more honest around her. ¡°Namely, that so many of you ¡®simple travelers¡¯ accept that Kid¡¯ka is a Pillar-Born and embrace his world-ending capabilities. Even if some of you are also fledgling deities, what would make you cooperate? Only one god or goddess may ascend at the end of an age. What incentive is there to work together?¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t entirely true.¡± Twindil said softly. She inhaled, then said, ¡°After the end of an age, the Pillar Gods wait several generations to assess which civilization will be prominent. Then, they choose a prophet from that group to introduce themselves to, to pass on the knowledge of who each god or goddess is and what they wish to be done for churches and prayers, and the like. When the Third Age started, the prophet was greeted not by the Pillar Gods and their two champions, but also a rogue god: Mazeek. We only know of this first appearance of the Unbound god of Chaos thanks to the stone monuments the prophet carved that lasted long enough to be copied and stored in secure libraries across Ahkoolis.¡± She explained, her posture straightening. ¡°The Pillar Gods have never been specific toward their prophets about how Mazeek came to be and likewise Mazeek says nothing of his accomplishment. Unbound to the Pillars, he cannot create Godling children to compete in a Godling War. And yet, he is undoubtedly a deity. My friends and I have been searching for his secret method of Ascension and a way to stave off the inevitable madness of a deity¡¯s blood warring against the mortal mind.¡± She tapped at her lip, near a light scar. ¡°There¡¯s no point in hiding and lying about our godly parentage now.¡±


    Dundale hadn¡¯t heard of a tradition of a Pillar God¡¯s prophet before. Maybe First Prince Megad knew it, but he¡¯d be sure to repeat it back to the Long Lord just in case. His biggest question bubbled into his throat. ¡°Did you come here to finish what the genocider Oros started?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Twindil spoke with conviction. ¡°Our guide led us here because it offered a short cut out to our primary objective. We were not lying to you that we wanted to pass through.¡±


    ¡°And this primary objective?¡±


    She smiled with a hint of resignation. ¡°It¡¯s too personal to say. I only hope that we can see it through while we have time, while we still control our own minds.¡±


    The dwarf frowned at the thought. Was she trying to paint the age-ending godlings as some sort of tragic heroes? That dogma would not be accepted. And yet, he couldn¡¯t justify contradicting her outright in case she felt like going on another fascinating tangent.


    She continued, ¡°The fate of a godling is brutal, but simple. Pillar-Born have but two outcomes: they Ascend, or they die. I have welcomed that simplicity as a comfort.¡± Twindil¡¯s eyes found his and her voice became strained. ¡°You have a far more complicated future. So many possibilities await you, Dundale. You may find love, raise a family, grow old... Yet you cannot know for sure. That host of uncertainty and mystery¡­ It must be so overwhelming.¡±


    Dundale eased back from the door, cutting off the conversation with the click of the eye slat. Everything about that last sentiment wormed its way deep into his mind with an unquestionable truth: she had outright lied. But in accepting that, a treacherous emotion emerged. Pity.

 Chapter Thirty-Three: Escape

    Hoplite continued to bump his chin in vain in an attempt to release the lock on his armor, but it was completely useless. It had been nearly a day since he was paralyzed and dragged into this dwarven workshop, and the squat creatures hadn¡¯t ceased once studying the Phalanx suit. Constantly they prodded at it, changing shifts and tools periodically, testing the armor¡¯s durability as well as how to disassemble it¡­ it was unlikely they¡¯d find the button to do that, but unfortunately the same could not be said of his weaponry. Each of his guns lay dismantled on the dozens of workbenches lining the walls, the dwarves studying them with rapturous enthusiasm.


    Hoplite needed to escape this paralysis as soon as possible. The thought of his equipment being tampered with this way made his blood nearly boil. After that, he would need to plan out how to free the others¡­ or at least Lance, Michael and Cat. Knowing that the others were Godlings made him hesitate to free them. They may not have been as outwardly aggressive as Tuji, but they were ticking time bombs nonetheless. They would become hostile eventually, if the intel he gathered on Godlings were to be believed. However, while he had no desire to continue traveling with them due to the eventual danger they posed, he found himself unwilling to leave them in the hands of these vampires.


    Who knew just what these Romai had planned for them? It might be even worse if Hoplite left them here, rather than let them go free. These elder vampires may be able to grow stronger by drinking their blood, among other things, and based on what Hoplite had experienced, they were already powerful enough. As the dwarves continued to batter away at the Phalanx suit, he began formulating a plan. Releasing everyone at once would not be likely to work out, their cells might be far apart from one another¡­


    If that were the case, then he would only be able to surprise the Romai once, after that they would likely reinforce security at the other cells from then on. Of course, this was assuming that their cells were all far removed from one another. If they were close, he just might be able to release everyone at once. The best-case scenario would be that he¡¯d get to retain his armor, and that the prisoners were close together.


    With how things were going now, taking the Phalanx with him was looking more and more unlikely. Assuming he was freed by these dwarves, the armor would take hours to put back on, and there were cameras in the corners of this workshop; he wouldn¡¯t have the time to re-equip it before hostiles arrived to apprehend him. As soon as he was free, while he regretted it, he would need to strike out fast and flee this place quickly¡­ leaving the Phalanx suit behind.


    Every instinct in him screamed that this wasn¡¯t an option, that doing so would be a criminal offense, but what choice did he have? If the armor was unlocked from the outside, the pieces would all fall away. It was different from when it was disassembled from within, the pieces simply became loose and removable then, but if the trigger was activated from outside, they would fall right off. The activation for it was in a difficult to reach spot beneath the groove of his left shoulder pad, but it was hard even for discerning eyes to find. Not only that, pressing it required an ultra thin spike, it wasn¡¯t something one could simply press with their finger, it was impossible to trigger it by accident.


    There was no guarantee that the armor would even come off if this button were activated, after all he couldn¡¯t release the Phalanx from within, why would the exterior release button work? Frustrated, he continued to stand in silence as the dwarves hammered away at him in vain, attempting to pry him apart.


    There was one thing he hadn¡¯t tried yet however, an option that he only now considered. Perhaps if he¡­ what was the word¡­ Pretended to be this automaton they believed he was, then maybe he could manipulate them into freeing him. How should he go about this though? First he should test if they could even hear him from out there.


    ¡°Kshhhhhhh.¡± Hoplite hissed, attempting to sound like a radio.


    ¡°By the Long Lords!¡± The dwarf on the ladder screamed, losing his balance before falling backward.


    While the ladder was caught by a stout dwarf, the one atop the ladder still lost his grip and landed hard on the concrete with a scream of agony. The rest of the workshop fell still, all eyes locking on Hoplite.


    ¡°What did you do to trigger that!?¡± Ketbram, the apparent supervisor of this workshop, asked quickly.


    The dwarf on the ground groaned, ¡°I just hit it on the head, I hit that spot earlier though¡­ not sure what triggered the damn thing.¡±


    Ketbram clapped his hands together, ¡°At least now we¡¯re making progress!¡± He said joyfully, ¡°Alright, you still good to work, boy?¡±


    ¡°Just need ale and I¡¯ll be fine.¡± The dwarf replied


    ¡°Head over to the barrels then, draw yerself a mug.¡± Ketbram urged the younger dwarf, who complied with gusto, his apparent injury not seeming to affect his stride to the beer barrels. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s hit it on the head again, get a rubber mallet and-¡±


    ¡°This unit cannot be disassembled.¡± Hoplite said in his best impression of a robotic voice.


    This was ridiculous, there was no way that this impression would convince-


    ¡°Yes!¡± Ketbram shouted, ¡°We can communicate with it now! Tell me machine, is there a button we can use to dislodge your parts?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°However, the constraints put on this unit by your masters make disassembly impossible.¡±


    Ketbram then put a palm to his face, ¡°Of course! The Long Lord¡¯s magic is far too powerful for mere tools to work through! You there, send word to the Long Lord¡¯s, request that this magic be dispelled-¡±


    ¡°Sir, what if the automaton becomes aggressive?¡± Another wielding a saw asked, ¡°There¡¯s no guarantee that it¡¯ll listen to us.¡±


    ¡°And also request the presence of a Fanged Guard, no automaton can stand up to the might of a vampire.¡± Ketbram grinned, flashing a thumbs up, ¡°Now get going, now!¡±


    After this, another hour passed, this time the incessant hammering at the Phalanx suit had stopped, instead being replaced by a rigorous interrogation. Hoplite gave false answers to his function and lied about his make and model¡­ frankly it wasn¡¯t nearly as hard as he thought it would be; pretending to be a robot that is. The Soldier found this demeaning, unprofessional¡­ but The Child oddly reveled in it, while Hoplite himself felt mildly embarrassed.


    However, the time came when finally, the Fanged Guard arrived. The vampire, like the other dwarves, was stout, with a long beard that just barely brushed the floor beneath it. Its red eyes were bright, even in this well lit chamber, and its deeply wrinkled face contrasted with the other dwarves around it. Ketbram, as well as the others, all deeply bowed to the vampire. It adjusted the crimson cape draped around its shoulders, the thick umber colored plate-mail it wore engraved with dozens of images depicting great victories against twisted beasts, much like the walls of this workshop.


    ¡°I am Nujet Baragal, fourth-born of Long-Lord Lagoma.¡± Nujet declared, ¡°I have been given permission to undo the magic binding this machine. Automaton, will you comply with my orders?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite lied.


    ¡°Excellent. Now, just in case, the rest of you¡­ vacate this chamber and lock the doors behind you. Should it become violent, I will subdue the thing, if it tries to run, it will be locked in here, after which I will disassemble it myself, there¡¯s no need to risk your young lives.¡±


    ¡°Are you certain, great one?¡± Ketbram asked, ¡°It seems docile, surely it won¡¯t try to stand up to your greatness.¡±


    ¡°Docility from an automaton is not the same as from a beast of burden, it will follow its programming, intimidation is not a factor.¡± Nujet said, clasping his broad hands behind his back, ¡°It may have confirmed that it would listen to my words, but there is still a possibility that it will act aggressively once it is free. Now please, begone and let me do my work.¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Very well, my lord. Boys,¡± Ketbram shouted, ¡°You heard the lord vampire, let¡¯s get going. He¡¯ll be done with this hunk of metal in no time.¡±


    With that, every dwarf in the workshop shuffled out, the heavy metal doors shutting behind them. Could they lock from the outside? Perhaps, but that wouldn¡¯t matter. Nujet, upon hearing the door shut, raised his hand toward Hoplite, the tips of his fingers enveloped in Golden Flame.


    ¡°Release,¡± he uttered, red eyes glaring.


    Then, just like that, Hoplite could move again¡­ yet, he did not immediately go on the offensive. Nujet seemed puzzled by this, approaching Hoplite cautiously, stopping just out of arm''s reach.


    ¡°I see that your programming is fluid enough that you can recognize new masters? That is good news indeed, now, remove your legs and one of your arms, I will do the rest.¡±


    Hoplite lashed out with a fist, darting forward so fast that his form became little more than a blur. Time slowed for Hoplite¡­ and he saw Nujet¡¯s eyes widen before his head darted off to the left, completely avoiding Hoplite¡¯s fist. Nujet then patted Hoplite on the torso, and he felt his feet leave the ground. Concrete shattered as Hoplite¡¯s body collided with the ceiling, but just as fast as he¡¯d been hit upward, he fell down.


    Nujet pointed a single finger at Hoplite, snarling as a purple ball of light formed before the digit. A beam shot out, wrapping around Hoplite¡¯s torso like a glowing rope before closing around him, pinning his arms to his torso right as he hit the ground. Nujet opened his mouth to speak, but Hoplite didn¡¯t wait to listen. Quickly he got his legs under him, and shot forward like a torpedo, his helmet colliding with the vampire¡¯s torso and knocking the creature backward.


    Nujet¡¯s armor crumpled beneath the force of the blow, black fluid exploding from his mouth and nose as he was hurtled backward, the magic rope dissolving. Hoplite rushed after the still-flying vampire, closing the distance and grabbing Nujet by the foot. He grit his teeth, crushing the limb in his hand before slamming the vampire face first into the concrete. Black blood spattered across the ground where Nujet¡¯s head impacted the floor, shards of bone and bits of dark brain-matter flying everywhere. The body twitched, and Hoplite brought his boot down upon the limbs, the torso, everywhere he could in a brutal flurry, flattening the entire frame of Nujet until his armor resembled sheet metal, gallons of black blood and gore squelching free between the flattened armor plates.


    Hoplite then rushed to the various tables lining the walls of the shop, swiping up and reassembling his confiscated weapons in an instant before magnetizing them to his body. He also collected Michael and Cat¡¯s munitions as well, not wanting to leave them in enemy hands. There were other guns here as well, not of Ternan make, but rather that of these Romai. Spotting the empty duffel bag he¡¯d used to store most of the weapons he¡¯d brought for the trip.


    Quickly he swiped it up, stealing dozens of munitions alongside reclaiming what had been confiscated from him, at least, as much as the bag could hold. All this took place within a window of fifteen seconds, enough time for the dwarves on the cameras to alert their superiors to what had happened within the workshop. Hoplite, eyeing the door, sped toward it, ramming his shoulder hard into the obstacle.


    It bent inward like paper despite its thickness, flying off the hinges before slamming into the wall of the hallway, red blood oozing from where it impacted the wall. It seemed that someone had been waiting on the other side, but Hoplite felt no remorse for this. These were his enemies, after all. The wide concrete hall was lit by fluorescent bulbs set into the short ceiling. Indeed Hoplite had to hunch slightly, otherwise his helmet would scrape against it. He drew the Fortis, spying a dozen armored dwarves to his left, all raising their own rifles as they stared at Hoplite with sheer terror. There were at least twenty hostiles, ten kneeling in front while the other ten stood behind, aiming directly at him. The hall ended to his right, with rough rock replacing the concrete.


    ¡°Open fire!¡± The lead dwarf shouted, a klaxon beginning to blare as red lights began to flash through the hall.


    Hoplite immediately charged, not bothering to return fire. The bullets were easily reflected by his shield, ricocheting off the walls as he closed the distance- he did not fire his gun, he did not lash out with a fist, no- He ran straight through them like a runaway train, trampling the dwarves beneath his feet and leaving nothing but screams of agony, crumpled armor, and shattered bones behind. Once he reached the end of the hall, it curved to the left, a single camera above following his movements.


    He reached up and crushed it in a single hand as he ran, turning a corner to see a dozen more dwarves, all emerging from a few open doorways, also armed. WIth great ease he barreled through the hostels, running rampant through the facility as he memorized every chamber, and every hallway that he came across. He¡¯d need to remember this later once he returned¡­ but there was another issue he had to deal with first.


    He had no idea where he was going. He remembered the path back to the Gear Door, but he¡¯d only be able to find that path if he found one of the area¡¯s that he¡¯d passed through before. This complex, wherever it was, is new to him, he would need to find where it connected first¡­ but then what? If he pounded through the Gear Door, he¡¯d be right back in that other vampire¡¯s coffin.


    There had to be somewhere in this facility he could hide, somewhere secluded he could set up as a temporary base of operations. At the minimum, he couldn¡¯t leave until at least Lance, Michael and Cat were safe. Saving the others was optional now, due to their Pillar-Born status. Yet, something about that acknowledgment troubled him deeply. There¡¯d be time to ponder it later.


    He crushed every camera he could along the way, spying a single, unarmed dwarf staring at him in horror from an open chamber. Bits of bone and splatters of blood covered Hoplite¡¯s lower body, the remains of his previous victims. It was then that Hoplite spotted the badge adorning the dwarf¡¯s gray coat.


    It read ¡®communications¡¯. He didn¡¯t hesitate, darting forward and grabbing the dwarf by the throat, lifting him up and pulling him into the hallway, ¡°What is my location!?¡± Hoplite screamed over the blaring klaxon, ¡°Tell me now!¡±


    ¡°I-It¡¯s the barracks!¡± He croaked, ¡°Release me!¡±


    ¡°Where is the camera room?¡± Hoplite pressed, applying slightly more pressure to his throat.


    The dwarf¡¯s broad hands squeezed his gauntlet, ¡°Down the hall at the crossroad, take a right, three doors down!¡± He screamed.


    ¡°Show me the way.¡± Hoplite growled, maintaining his grip and sprinting down the hall with dwarf in hand.


    As it turned out, bringing him had been unnecessary, once he reached the intersection, there was a sign etched into the concrete of the floor, arrows pointing to each hall with names beneath each, revealing what lay down each path. There had been scarcely any of these for some odd reason- what if the staff forgot the layout of the facility? He memorized this, seeing that the ¡®monitor room¡¯ was indeed down the hall leading to the right. Hoplite cracked the dwarf¡¯s neck and left him twitching at the intersection, rushing down the hall right as another squad of armed dwarves emerged from the left, charging after him.


    Hoplite lost sight of them as he barged into the monitor room, seeing a dozen thick screens on a far wall. A few dwarves turned to look at him, shocked. Hoplite quickly scanned each screen, seeing the layout of every room, every hall, until finally¡­ he spotted something different. There was a camera that was observing what appeared to be an empty cavern. It stretched on into further darkness, perhaps he could escape and set up somewhere in there.


    He scanned more cameras, eventually spotting a screen that depicted a dilapidated hallway, with fungus actively growing on the walls, moisture dripping onto a cracked concrete floor. Heavy metal doors lined this hall, and Hoplite felt certain that was where the squad was being held captive. Sadly, none of these monitors displayed what was in these chambers, maybe because there was another monitoring room elsewhere that covered other portions of this complex.


    In those few seconds, he gathered all the data that he¡¯d need¡­ he then lashed out wildly at the different consoles and screens, sending shattered electronics and glass flying. The unarmed dwarves quickly filed out during Hoplite¡¯s rampage, and he only stopped once everything within was busted. It was then that the squad finally reached him, rushing in and opening fire, again their inferior ballistics were reflected by his shield. Hoplite trampled over these as well, crushing through them all before darting down the hall toward one of the fleeing dwarves that had been in the monitor room.


    Hoplite swiped the slowest one in a single hand, bringing him up to his helmet before hissing, ¡°Where are the prisoners!?¡± Hoplite hissed. ¡°How do I get to them from here!?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t tell you-¡± The dwarf started.


    Hoplite snapped his neck and dropped him like a sack of rocks, running straight for the next monitor dwarf. With ease he swiped this one up, repeating the same question and receiving a better answer.


    ¡°It¡¯s down there!¡± The dwarf screamed, pointing down another hallway, ¡°Just run straight ahead and you¡¯ll get there in no time!¡±


    He peered down the long hall, indeed he also saw a sign that said ¡®containment¡¯ Hoplite wasted no more words, sprinting down the hall with the dwarf in hand. It didn¡¯t take long before he reached the end of the hall, spying a set of stone doors, like everything else it was engraved with a dozen images.


    The dwarf wheezed, pointing to the doors, ¡°That¡¯s it-¡± He inhaled, ¡°Right through there.¡±


    Hoplite kicked the stone doors open with ease¡­ but what lay before him was not what the dwarf had claimed. At least, it wasn¡¯t what he was looking for. It was indeed a jail, but the heavy steel doors he had expected were instead, bars, with other haggard looking dwarves sitting behind them, looking shocked to see Hoplite. A balcony above, near to the ceiling, held a pair of blue coated dwarves, looking just as surprised. They both wielded rifles, taking aim before shouting orders for Hoplite to put down his captive. He disposed of these two with the Fortis, painting the engraved concrete behind them crimson before he grit his teeth.


    ¡°The prisoners that I came here with!¡± Hoplite corrected, raising the monitor dwarf once again.


    He spat in response, ¡°Rot in hell, automaton.¡±


    Frustrated, Hoplite slammed the dwarf against the wall, hearing a loud crunch before he allowed the body to slide to the ground. He didn¡¯t have much more time to waste, if the Long Lords found out he¡¯d been freed, they may come themselves to apprehend him. As much as he hated to do this, he¡¯d need to leave his squad for now¡­There had to be some way to get to that cave system-


    ¡°You there, machine!¡± A skinny prisoner with a notable absence of a beard yelled, ¡°I know where it is, yah, can tell ya where it is, but first I need a favor!¡±


    Hoplite regarded the man- no, it was a dwarf, despite the emaciation and lack of a beard, his squat form still gave it away. He immediately approached the cell, ripping the door from its hinges, ¡°Now.¡± He ordered, the prisoner taking a step back out of fear.


    ¡°We c-can¡¯t escape through New Romai, we gotta get to the cavern see, they won¡¯t follow us there-¡±


    ¡°Where are the prisoners!?¡± Hoplite shouted.


    ¡°Opposite end of the city, you won¡¯t reach it before the Fanged Guard gets ya.¡± The prisoner told him quickly, ¡°We gotta get to the cavern first, if you can find a pickaxe, then all you¡¯d have to do is dig through this here wall in my cell.¡± He finished, indicating the wall between a bucket and a steel bedframe. ¡°I know that it¡¯s on the other side, but it¡¯ll take some work, you must hurry!¡±


    If the prison holding his comrades really was on the opposite end of the city, then this dwarf was right. More of the Fanged Guard would soon arrive to apprehend him, and in greater numbers, Hoplite doubted he¡¯d emerge the victor. The caves were his only option at present, and he even confirmed that they wouldn¡¯t try to pursue him if he went there¡­ but that left the very important question of ¡®why¡¯?


    What was in the caves that would cause vampires to hesitate?


    ¡°Did you hear me!?¡± The prisoner shouted, ¡°We gotta get through that wall you bucket of bolts, find a pick!¡±


    ¡°A pick is not needed.¡± Hoplite said simply before approaching the wall, fists raised.


    It was time to make his own exit.

 Chapter Thirty-Four: A Day to Be Remembered

    The chill still had not left Dundale Stoutfoot¡¯s body. His eyes were stuck wide in shock as he stared at the blood still staining the floor and the cracked stone. These halls had been unchanged for generations, trampled by dutiful dwarves, tended and cleaned and carved lovingly with stories of their culture and history. Now they were marred with a death and destruction that his generation had never experienced.


    A horrifying potential outcome crept into his brain, the one where the homicidal automaton had been accurately directed to the cells where Dundale had been. Hultgram, the brave sentry that directed that remorseless pile of machinery to the regular prisons, would receive the highest commemoration from the Stoutfoot family when it came time to pay respects. He rubbed his fingers into his palms, forcing feeling back into the digits.


    Dundale closed his eyes and muttered a small prayer for the fallen sentry in particular, then for all the other dwarves who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then, he raised his head and marched on to his destination.


    Emergency cleaners and morticians clogged the hallways, making foot traffic have to use a detour through the boiler room. Dundale glanced around the milling crowds and caught far too many panic-stricken faces and tears. More than one angry voice cried, ¡°We should have never allowed such scum into our home!¡±


    Still shivering, Dundale cleared the detour and approached the Granite Room, the meeting room that Wurmdring Gleamhilt had claimed for the evening. All manner of Gear Guards and sentry groups had been gathered together. A sea of brown, black, and a smattering of blonde dwarves of all beard lengths jostled for a seat and grunted lowly to each other. Most attention fell to Tenstrad Eastrock, a Second Footer who had lost both of his brothers in the rampage. Tenstrad barely responded to anything, eyes drifting around the room in a haze of despair.


    Wurmdring suddenly stood to his feet and the room hushed. The Fanged Guard examined all of his subordinates before announcing, ¡°This day will always be remembered, comrades. The wound to New Romai is still fresh and oozing. Until the camera feeds can be examined properly, the proclamation of responsibility will be withheld. But I know my crew and I know that every last dwarf under the banner of the Guard did his duty to the fullest.¡±


    The vampire raised his head, jewelry clacking from his beard from the movement. ¡°That being said, this automaton ¨CHoplite Thirty-Seven as it has been identified¨Cis now public enemy number one. Its capabilities are far beyond expected. If reports are to be trusted, Hoplite Thirty-Seven slaughtered the Fanged Guard Nujet Baragal, apparently without weapons.¡±


    Horrified whispers circled the room.


    Wurmdring continued stoically, ¡°The fault cannot fall to any one of my dwarves not doing his duty against such a remorseless automaton. His power and ability outclass us on a scale we had not conceived. Therefore, once morning shift starts tomorrow, each group of sentries will be accompanied by a member of the Fanged Guard and must carry two radios. Each outpost at the Gear Doors must report at fifteen minute intervals with me and receive frequent visits by Fanged Guards throughout the shift.¡±


    ¡°Needless to say, procedures will be followed to the letter now. No ale on the job, no breaks longer than forty-five minutes, and every abnormality must be meticulously documented. The Cavern¡¯s Gear Door will be given as high of security as we can give it with three Fanged Guards and Suits. I expect a Long Lord to linger by the Cavern¡¯s Gear Door to minimize potential casualties in case that metallic scourge tries to emerge once again. Any dwarf stationed there will be expected to do no less than perfect.¡±


    The dwarves all quietly nodded their heads. Guard duty had always felt like a throwaway position before, a job to do nothing and get paid for it. Now, brutal reality had shaped them into the first line of defense.


    Dundale gulped and straightened his back. He would not crumble under the new weight or complain. Lives depended on him.


    Wurmdring continued with a debrief for night shift¡¯s procedures and the promise of more information as it came to him. The vampire then softly concluded the meeting with the reading out the names of the dwarves confirmed dead, and said that close relatives of the fallen could take half a day off. With that, they were excused. Some dwarves raced out of the room to check on their families, others like Tenstrad didn¡¯t react.


    Dundale lingered just outside the door, warring with himself what his next move should be. Part of him wanted to curl up in his bed, but deep down he knew he couldn¡¯t sleep. The other part wanted to find and dismantle Hoplite Thirty-Seven despite the certainty of death. The lure of Outworlder tech paled in comparison to the wanton death the automaton had wreaked. If there was a way to cause a machine pain, he would do it.


    Approaching quietly, Wurmdring paused next to the First Footer. He hissed, ¡°The First Prince entrusted you with a gift, I suggest you use it. Interrogate the bastards all night if you have to, Stoutfoot.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Dundale glared. The sentence was not a direct order, giving him some leeway to push back. ¡°Our Outworlder prisoners have indicated loyalty as their defining trait. It would be foolish to push for information on Hoplite Thirty-Seven and risk destroying any chance at building rapport.¡±


    ¡°Rapport.¡± The vampire scowled. ¡°Lesser races don¡¯t deserve-¡±


    ¡°They are given the illusion of sympathy and friendship, sir,¡± Dundale corrected. ¡°Of course they are lesser, but they must not feel that they are treated that way.¡± A retort about how little his superior seemed to know about befriending someone popped up in his mind, but he held it back. One little gold shield did not mean he had gained any rank or could act insubordinate.


    ¡°So you¡¯d prioritize the feelings of the prisoners over gleaning information about that metal menace?¡±


    The dwarf shook his head, but he couldn¡¯t look Wurmdring in the eye. ¡°It will be unwise to alert them to our loss. Keep them in the dark, hopeless that they cannot ever escape. Let that belief eat away at them. I will not give them the dream that their automaton could potentially free them.¡±


    That finally satisfied the Fanged Guard. He pulled at his long grey beard, playing with the ornaments and braids.


    Something pestered Dundale in the back of his mind about the attack, but he had to find evidence to prove it before he could properly voice it. He felt at the little pin First Prince Megad had given him while sinking deep into thought. Before his superior could leave, Dundale asked, ¡°Is there a chance I can see the footage of the fight?¡±


    ¡°We have many trained analysts. There¡¯s nothing a Footer like you could add to the conversation,¡± he snorted.


    ¡°As a guard, we prioritize observation skills and picking out the fine details. What does it matter if the details are behind a screen?¡±


    Wurmdring narrowed his red eyes. ¡°Know your rank, Stoutfoot.¡±


    He bowed and acquiesced. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± He¡¯d have to find eyewitnesses instead.


    Ketbram and his engineers would be the first targets, but Dundale guessed that they already were being pestered by any number of vampires or even the Long Lord''s themselves. It would take too long and might prove fruitless to pry at those witnesses. Other dwarves had encountered the murderous machine and had survived. Logically, the highest rate of retelling their stories would be at the nearest pub, more specifically the Watering Hole, known hangout of single male dwarves. He himself could use a good dose of ale. With that in mind, Dundale saluted his superior and turned down the familiar pathway.


    It didn¡¯t take long for him to reach it, he knew the path like the back of his hand, but the same could be said of about the rest of New Romai. Any dwarf worth his ale could claim that; their perfect memories allowed as much. When he finally found the thin stone batwing door, he sighed, it had been a while since he¡¯d been in here, it felt almost nostalgic seeing the carved illustration above the door. It depicted a strange beast, with four legs and hooves, two humps atop it¡¯s back as it drank greedily from a pond. Just beneath this carving were two words, Watering Hole.


    He pushed through the batwing doors, the patrons not bothering to look at him as they buried their beards in mugs of strong ale. Almost every seat was filled, the stone tables littered with dozens of empty cups. The smooth rock counter at the other end of the room was much the same, every stool holding up a drunken occupant.


    It took no time to overhear the tales of bravery and terror the ale brought from the mouths of the survivors. All patrons in the pub had gathered around a gaggle of infantry dwarves and offered them more drinks. Dundale slipped into the fringes of the group and listened carefully.


    The heroes largely recounted their brave assault on the automaton, firing off the weapons with as much precision as they could muster, searching for weak points. The survivors happened to be on the fringes of the defensive line and had barely avoided being trampled.


    One observer remarked to the sea of talkative drinkers, ¡°It¡¯s clear to see which path Hoplite Thirty-Seven took, seeing as it destroyed every camera on the way.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it hates cameras.¡±


    ¡°Or it was programmed to limit how much it is monitored.¡±


    ¡°But crushing everything by hand? Seems spiteful.¡±


    ¡°I heard it had some sort of deception programming. What will the Outworlders think of next?¡±


    ¡°Shame we can¡¯t get ahold of such advanced tech.¡±


    ¡°Did you see him running around with hostages?¡± One dwarf asked. ¡°No one it grabbed survived the encounter. I think I heard talk that the machine was looking for the Pillar-Born.¡±


    ¡°Thank the Long Lords it didn¡¯t find them. Can you imagine the collateral if they got out too?¡± Another asked, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.


    ¡°And we should be glad that it didn¡¯t have any tracking or homing devices. It needed the monitor room and destroyed it after it got what it wanted.¡±


    ¡°Good thing that we won¡¯t be seeing that menace again.¡± A Second Footer grunted. ¡°It went into No Man¡¯s Land. Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve heard of a single living thing being able to return from the Caverns since the Great Quake two-hundred years ago.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not living though, and it killed a Fanged Guard without guns.¡±


    ¡°Still, nothing gets through those Caverns.¡± A footer pointed out, receiving a chorus of nods.


    ¡°And the Long Lords themselves will be patrolling the only Gear Door into the Caverns.¡± A sentry piped up. ¡°Our losses today were great, but at least it will not be repeated.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll drink to that.¡± A dwarf announced and raised his mug. His fellows followed suit and toasted in unity.


    Dundale¡¯s eyes narrowed as he stared into the amber-brown drink. Tidbits about Hoplite Thirty-Seven¡¯s movements and actions seemed slightly off. Granted, there was no way to predict what technology from another realm was capable of, so maybe Dundale was overthinking things. But a suspicion still brewed in the back of his mind all the same.


    Once he finished his drink, he let his feet take him down the familiar path back to his home. He pulled out a small notebook from a pocket and jotted down the question he wanted to ask the prisoners when he could. He would have to ask it very carefully in the middle of an engaging conversation with guards lowered. Either he¡¯d have to quickly gain the Outworlder¡¯s trust or attempt to pry the talkative Twindil for information¡­ But it was a necessary bluff to pull.


    Satisfied in seeing the words on paper, Dundale tucked it back into his pocket. The sentence turned around and around in his head as he prepared for bed. He approached his mirror, and asked himself the question in preparation for tomorrow.


    ¡°Is Hoplite Thirty-Seven the name of the man, or of the suit?¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Five: Spiral Cavern

    ¡°Right then, suppose we¡¯re out of New Romai.¡± The prisoner noted, walking just behind Hoplite, ¡°Don¡¯t know your business, but whatever it is you should clear out of here as quick as ya can.¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite replied.


    ¡°Not gonna argue with ya, if you don¡¯t plan on leaving that¡¯s your business, me though? Gonna try and find me a way out of here. These caves are new territory for us, not even the Long Lord''s dare come through here, don¡¯t know why though.¡±


    Hoplite believed him, they had been moving through this cave system for nearly an hour, and no pursuit had been given. What was in here that was so dangerous that even those elder vampires wouldn¡¯t attempt entry? The Child felt terrified about what may lay in the darkness, what could be hiding just behind the stalagmites, ready and waiting to pounce. The Soldier scoffed at this, reminding Hoplite and the Child that nothing would be able to get the drop on them. It was true, with the motion tracker, multiple cameras, infrared capabilities as well as night vision, there wasn¡¯t anything Hoplite couldn¡¯t see.


    He didn¡¯t even have his flashlight on, not wanting to advertise his location to any of the creatures that may inhabit the caves. Interestingly, the dwarven prisoner didn¡¯t seem to need light, picking his path carefully. While they wandered through the caves, Hoplite decided to pull some intel from him.


    ¡°What are some pure-blooded dwarven traits?¡± He asked, ¡°Can you see in the dark?¡±


    ¡°Likely not as well as you can, but I can make out what¡¯s ten paces in front of me well enough.¡± He said, his eyes narrowing. ¡°Pure-blooded dwarves? What, have you never met one before?¡±


    Hoplite shook his head, ¡°No, all the dwarves living on the surface have interbred with humans.¡±


    The dwarf blinked in shock, ¡°There are no pure-beards left, and they¡¯ve been interbred wi-with slave-stock?¡± He shuddered, ¡°How horrible to know that we are the last real dwarves left.¡±


    ¡°Slave-stock?¡± Hoplite asked in a neutral tone.


    ¡°Back when the Romai ruled the Sixth Age, we dominated the lesser races, naturally.¡± He said with a shrug, ¡°Er, no offense¡­ if you take any, you are a machine right?¡±


    Hoplite ignored the question, ¡°Any other traits?¡±


    ¡°Why do you wanna know so bad?¡± The dwarf asked, ¡°Wait, are ya planning on killing more of my kindred?¡±


    ¡°If I have no other choice. My objective must be completed.¡± Hoplite answered honestly.


    ¡°My life there is done.¡± He said with a shrug, ¡°But I don¡¯t want needless slaughter, they are still my people. If I answer your questions, promise me you won¡¯t kill any more of ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°Casualties can be kept to a minimum.¡± Hoplite replied flatly.


    He hadn¡¯t intended on genociding the Romai, just eliminating the ones that were an obstacle to freeing his allies.


    ¡°Well, we got perfect memories.¡± The prisoner noted, ¡°I can remember every detail of my life, from the moment of birth till now, every good dwarf can.¡±


    Was that why the halls had minimal directions to them? They all had photographic memories? This was good to know¡­ Hoplite turned his head slightly, continuing to walk through the dark cavern.


    ¡°I need to know the path to a prisoner containment facility, that is my goal. If you can give me accurate directions, I promise you that I¡¯ll keep casualties to a minimum.¡±


    As much as he could, anyhow. The Soldier scowled in response to this compromise, best to ring the information from the prisoners neck without tying themselves down to a ridiculous ¡®promise¡¯. The Child however, insisted that they keep to their word, that a promise was a promise. Before Hoplite could decide which advice he would go with, the prisoner spoke.


    ¡°Aye then, well, you know where mine was, that was for shaved inmates like myself, a fate worse than death¡­ living without a beard.¡± He sighed, his eyes looking heavy ¡°But I¡¯m supposing that you want to find the heavy containment prison. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s for other automatons like yourself or your masters, but that is likely where you need to go.¡± He said, hesitating, ¡°I first thought you were talking about the low-risk jail, that¡¯s the one on the opposite side of New Romai¡­ but the heavy containment one is also over there as well.


    ¡°Is this facility overgrown with fungus?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°The concrete was cracked from what I saw on camera, and there was water dripping down from the ceiling.¡±


    ¡°Aye, they keep it like that on purpose, helps drain the prisoners¡¯ wills. Normally that¡¯s where insubordinate vampires are kept, sometimes for decades before they¡¯re released, either that or powerful mages.¡± The dwarf said.


    ¡°That¡¯s where I need to go.¡± Hoplite told him, ¡°Give me a good description of how to get there.¡±


    ¡°Well for starters¡­¡± The dwarf began, launching into an extraneously detailed description.


    Hoplite remembered every bit of it, from the turns that needed to be taken to the rooms that would need to be passed. There were smaller details than that he¡¯d have to remember, for example, taking a left down a hall with a hair-length crack in the corner. Once the dwarf was done, he shuddered.


    ¡°Damn cold down here, if I can¡¯t get to the surface quick, I¡¯ll probably freeze to death. At least here I¡¯m allowed to die a free dwarf, I¡¯ll regrow my beard as much as I can before then.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think you¡¯ll survive for very long?¡± Hoplite asked.


    ¡°Nah.¡± He replied, ¡°I¡¯ve given up on properly living a long time ago, but that doesn¡¯t mean I should just roll over and die either. I¡¯ll try and survive, but I don¡¯t like my odds. Ah, just realized I never gave ya my name, it¡¯s Heinlet Laret.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°Following me will put you in more danger.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I know.¡± Heinlet replied, ¡°But I don¡¯t plan on following you for much longer. Gonna try and find a path upward next time we hit a fork. Everything has been flat so far, it¡¯s strange¡­ far too uniform.¡±


    Heinlet was right, there was something odd about how¡­ manufactured this cave felt. The rock was rough, and there were both stalagmites and stalactites, yet the tunnel itself was uniform, in width and height. After another half an hour of walking, there was finally a break in this uniformity. Or, more like a new uniformity had taken its place. The tunnel entered into a new one, branching right and left. The left path declined, while the right inclined.


    ¡°Looks like this is where we part ways, unless you plan on heading up with me?¡± Heinlet asked.


    ¡°Hoplite¡­ down here.¡± A soft, familiar voice whispered, seemingly right in his ear, ¡°It¡¯s Nolvi.¡±


    ¡°Negative Heinlet, I¡¯m heading down.¡± He said quickly, leaving the dwarf behind, ¡°Good luck.¡± He finished, clutching the Magnus.


    ¡°A-aye, you as well.¡± He replied, hesitating a moment before turning around to head upwards.


    There was no guarantee that this was the real Nolvi, it could be a trap, so it was best to be prepared for the worst. However, the girl had completely disappeared without a trace, it was possible that she really was down here and-


    ¡­And it was likely that she was a Godling, he reminded himself. He¡¯d need to be careful around her, if she showed signs of aggression then the girl would need to be neutralized. For now though, he couldn¡¯t turn down a potentially powerful ally in this situation. He quickly descended the tunnel, noting that it seemed to spiral around itself as he went lower.


    ¡°I¡¯m at the bottom¡­ I can sense that you¡¯re here, but why isn¡¯t anyone else with you?¡± She asked, the voice again appearing beside his ear, ¡°Are they okay?¡±


    ¡°Negative, they are all in danger.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°The dwarves have them captive.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Nolvi gasped, ¡°By the Pillars¡­ Grandmother said that the Romai aren¡¯t to be trifled with, I had no idea you would all end up coming this way.¡±


    ¡°Grandmother?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°What do you mean by that, is someone else down there with you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated.¡± She replied, ¡°But yes, you¡¯ll see soon.¡±


    Hoplite picked up the pace, his sabatons leaving the stone cracked behind him. Nolvi said nothing else as he continued to descend, reaching the bottom of the cavern in around ten minutes. What stood before him was shocking. A gigantic steel door loomed high over him, a purple spiral etched into its surface. A seam in the center implied that it would swing inward, meaning he¡¯d need to push. Hoplite checked his motion tracker, seeing one figure standing just on the other side, barely moving.


    ¡°I¡¯m in here, Hoplite.¡± Nolvi¡¯s voice echoed, ¡°Please come in, but please be mindful of Grandmother.¡±


    Hoplite didn¡¯t reply, instead pressing on the door with his shoulder, still gripping his shotgun. The door opened, the sound of metal grinding on stone echoing through the cave. What stood before him was shocking. On the other side of the door, was a circular chamber of solid steel. Looking up, Hoplite was surprised to see that the ceiling was out of sight, darkness being the only thing overhead. Yet that was of little note compared to the two who occupied the chamber.


    Standing there, right in the center of the room, was Nolvi¡­ staring right at him with her spiralled eyes. Next to her was what appeared to be a mummified corpse with wispy white hair and taut, leathery skin. He expected the eye-sockets to be empty, considering the decomposition the corpse had gone through, but no. Eyes that matched Nolvi¡¯s own bore into him, and Hoplite felt¡­ he felt like something was looking into his very being.


    Those eyes scanned Hoplite up and down, learning everything there was to know about him, at least, that was what it seemed like. The Child wanted to back out of that room and slam the door¡­ and The Soldier felt the same. It was Hoplite that remained in place, staring down the strange mummified being.


    ¡°Strong of body, weak of mind, split three ways.¡± A feminine raspy voice noted, seeming to come from nowhere, ¡°Dragon-Son, have you come to free me from my bindings?¡±


    Hoplite shook his head, scanning his surroundings for the source of the voice. ¡°Negative, and I am not a ¡®Dragon-Son¡¯, I am a Hoplite.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Nolvi has told me some things about you, some things about others¡­ She had mentioned that you had a run in with a full Dragon, and that the creature had claimed that you bore the blood he himself does.¡± The voice noted, ¡°I see now that this is the truth.¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s jaw clenched, golden eyes going wide, ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± He said flatly, realizing that the voice could only be coming from the corpse, as impossible as that seemed.


    ¡°My eyes can see everything about you, even through that armor¡­ tell me, do you have any idea what that material is made of?¡± The body asked, sounding rhetorical.


    ¡°Adium.¡± Hoplite replied flatly, ¡°Nolvi, I need a sitrep- I mean, I need to know what happened to you, and who this is.¡±


    ¡°She is my grandmother, in a sense.¡± Nolvi said, ¡°But she is the one you should really be talking to¡­ I- I serve her, now.¡± She finished, averting her spiralling eyes.


    ¡°More of a distant relative, given the time that has passed since my imprisonment, though she, along with all Spiral Queens, are my direct descendents. Grandmother will have to suffice.¡± The body said, ¡°I am-¡±


    ¡°Lithia, the Spiral Queen.¡± Hoplite finished for her.


    He¡¯d learned about her a while ago. Darax, the Pillar-God of War, had sealed her away at the end of his Godling War, just before he ascended. She had become a danger to the world during the Third Age, the stories he¡¯d heard stating that she had sought to kill the world. Of course, there was no way of knowing that for sure¡­ those had just been stories after all, but now that mythological being was here before him, withered and rotting away.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re well-read for a brand-new Outworlder.¡± Lithia noted, her mummified eyelids narrowing, ¡°It is rude to be so disruptive, little Dragon. I am in no position to discipline you any longer, but I am the Queen of Spiralling Death, the holder of the seat of Death, you would do well to remember that.¡±


    ¡°Nolvi, we need a plan of action¡­ and I need a moment with you, alone.¡± Hoplite said, ignoring the corpse, ¡°There is something I have to confirm with you.¡±


    ¡°Oh how far I¡¯ve fallen¡­¡± Lithia mumbled in a miserable tone, ¡°Back in the day men, Dragon-blooded or not, would fall to their knees at my very presence¡­¡±


    ¡°Hoplite, you just hurt grandmother¡¯s feelings.¡± Nolvi said, looking back at him with a light glare, ¡°That was mean, please apologize.¡±


    ¡°My feelings are not hurt! I am still powerful, I could kill him this very instant if I desired it, but I cannot discipline him.¡± Lithia complained, ¡°I have lost all subtlety with my gaze ever since that wretched Kazon stole my amulet, you remember the amulet, yes dear?¡± Lithia asked, waiting for Nolvi to respond.


    ¡°Yes, grandmother.¡± Nolvi replied, a tinge of suffering in her tone.


    Lithia then sighed, ¡°Well that amulet was a gift from Draoi himself, believe it or not, when I was but a girl-¡±


    ¡°Grandmother, remember our guest?¡± Nolvi asked, trying to steer the conversation back to Hoplite, ¡°He says there is something important that he must speak with me about, alone¡­ do you mind if I step out with him?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Who¡­ ah, this one. He has the blood of a Dragon and that armor¡­ boy, do you even know what it is made out of?¡± Lithia asked.


    ¡°...Affirmative, it is Adium.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°Nolvi, let¡¯s step outside.¡±


    ¡°Do you not know who I am, Dragonling?¡± Lithia questioned, ¡°I am Lithia, The Spiral Queen.¡±


    The Child urged a fake apology to hurry this along, Hoplite conceded, ¡°I am sorry, Lady Lithia, may I please take Nolvi outside to talk with her?¡± He asked flatly.


    The Soldier seethed at Hoplite for caving into this suggestion, it was unbecoming of a Ternan soldier. Hoplite however, saw the necessity of it. Lithia¡¯s¡­ condition, had clearly diminished her mental faculties, attempting to argue or dismiss her would just lead to more senile ramblings. There was also what she had just claimed, that she could kill him in an instant¡­ There was no way of knowing if she was truly capable of it, but the vampires back in New Romai refused to tread here for a reason.


    Lithia must be why; he needed to be cautious with her.


    Lithia¡¯s leathery flesh wrinkled as she frowned, ¡°You wish to save your companions from the vampires, yes?¡± She asked him.


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied.


    ¡°I can tell you¡¯re strong, but those Long Lords will chew you up in an instant if you go back now.¡± Lithia told him, ¡°You cannot return there, at least not yet.¡±


    ¡°Negative, I need to-¡±


    ¡°You need to learn how to utilize Foundation first, Dragonling, or you won¡¯t even be able to get through the Gear Door.¡± Lithia pointed out.


    Hoplite frowned, ¡°I can¡¯t use Foundation, I am an Outworlder, I don¡¯t have the blood of Zodd.¡±


    Frustratingly, Lithia cackled, ¡°Yes you do, I can see it now! His blood is strong in you, perhaps he is your grandfather, rather than a distant ancestor.¡±


    A tinge of panic began to well up in his chest, as the Child, for whatever reason, believed Lithia¡¯s words. Geravall the elf had eyes that could pick out DNA after all, who was to say that Lithia couldn¡¯t do the same? The Child¡¯s reasoning however, was countered by the Soldier¡¯s outrage. How dare he think that they weren¡¯t of pure earthling blood? It was true that they had been infused with Final Kind DNA, but their base human genetics were of Earth, not Ahkoolis. Hoplite grimaced as he remembered Hect- Hoplite Twenty-Fives words.


    That Lord Jyn wasn¡¯t human¡­ and more than that¡­ There was a second, more terrifying truth he did not want to confront. His head began to ache, like two icy steel spikes were driven into his temples. He couldn¡¯t confront those other words, they didn¡¯t exist, they could not exist!


    ¡°If you¡¯ll make a deal with me, Dragonling,¡± Lithia spoke up, taking Hoplite from his thoughts, ¡°I can teach you how to use Foundation, but you must provide me a service after you finish your business here.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t learn Foundation, I¡¯m from Earth-¡±


    ¡°That you are, I can see that your human blood is so, but you also bear the blood of a Dragon, which itself is made from the Blood of Zodd.¡± Lithia continued, ¡°Also, don¡¯t you take that tone with me, do you know who I am? I am-¡±


    ¡°Grandmother, can I please speak with my friend out in the hall?¡± Nolvi asked, tone pleading.


    ¡°Of course deary, just please be quick about it, I am not done with the Dragonling.¡± Lithia crooned.


    With that, Nolvi stepped out of the chamber quickly, Hoplite following immediately after her. Once they were outside, Nolvi turned to him, her spiral eyes slightly averted.


    ¡°So they¡¯ve been captured¡­ I had feared they would know where to look for me, though I don¡¯t know how it is that they knew of this place, unless Theopalu told them perhaps?¡± She questioned.


    Hoplite shook his head, ¡°Negative, when you disappeared we searched for you, but came up with nothing. We decided to continue the mission and found the Romai by accident, me finding you down here was also not intentional.¡±


    Nolvi¡¯s eyes fell, ¡°I-I see¡­ did they look long?¡±


    ¡°The squad has been captured,¡± Hoplite said, ¡°They¡¯re being held by the dwarves in a high security prison in the city. Can you use Foundation to cloak me?¡±


    ¡°Cloak you?¡± Nolvi asked, ¡°If you mean invisibility, I¡¯m sorry. I am learning to do other things with my eyes, I cannot focus on Foundation right now. Grandmother¡¯s teachings are taking every priority. We do need to save them however¡­ but I cannot help you.¡±


    Hoplite paused for an instant before asking, ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Grandmother won¡¯t let me leave¡­ ever since I found the book she left for me-¡±


    ¡°For you?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°How would she have done that? Especially in her condition?¡±


    ¡°Once we passed the bridge, she sensed that I was here. Once we were in that Pillar-Church, she manifested it there for me to find¡­ after I read it, my eyes became this way, and I felt myself being pulled here, literally and figuratively.¡± She answered, ¡°She is- well, she is well meaning, I think. She doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m strong enough to be out there on my own and won¡¯t let me go until she¡¯s satisfied with how I wield the Spiral.¡±


    ¡°How did she ¡®manifest¡¯ the book there, that makes no sense.¡± Hoplite told her, shaking his head.


    Much to his surprise, Nolvi laughed, ¡°It doesn¡¯t! But will she tell me how she did it? No!¡± She continued flipping her hand up in the air, ¡°One of her little ¡®secrets¡¯ apparently, though she must have used Foundation for it.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s drop that for now, can Lithia help me free our group?¡± Hoplite asked.


    Frustratingly, Nolvi shook her head, ¡°She can¡¯t leave that chamber no matter what I¡¯ve tried, and I can¡¯t leave her behind even if I wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Not even for your friends?¡± Hoplite asked, the Child¡¯s disappointment seeping into his normally flat tone.


    Nolvi¡¯s eyes widened, looking surprisingly hurt, ¡°It¡¯s not like that!¡± She protested, ¡°I just- I can¡¯t leave, not yet¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on my own then.¡± The Soldier took over, turning on his heel. This was a waste of time, a senile corpse that could do nothing and a worthless girl that would do nothing.


    ¡°Hoplite wait!¡± Nolvi urged, ¡°Please, listen to grandmother, if you can use Foundation you might be able to-¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t use it. I¡¯m not from here.¡± The Soldier nearly snapped, turning back to her, ¡°That¡¯s it.¡±


    The Child however¡­ had his doubts. The Soldier reprimanded him for doubting Lord Jyn, for daring to remember Twenty-Five¡¯s lies. The Chair had fixed them, had brought them back to Jyn to serve, as a good Hoplite should. The Child scowled, The Chair hadn¡¯t done anything but repress the truth, a truth that The Soldier wanted to remain buried. Hoplite froze as the two of them began battling for control within his psyche, his body going rigid.


    ¡°...Well, there is a way to prove it, one way or another.¡± Nolvi said after a moment.


    The Soldier, The Child, and Hoplite all fixed their attentions on her, ¡°Elaborate.¡± They all said in unison.


    ¡°Just try and genuinely learn to utilize Foundation. If you can feel the Flame, then you have blood from our world, if not, then it is as you say¡­ does that make sense?¡± She asked nervously, her eyes finding the floor. ¡°At least then you would know for certain.¡±


    Hoplite took a deep breath, ¡°It does. But I don¡¯t think we have time for a test like this.¡±


    He said that, but Hoplite could not deny that the peace of mind would help him to focus on the mission¡­ and perhaps once he found this closure, he could be rid of both the Child and the Soldier. They were distracting him too much now.


    ¡°Feeling the Flame is actually the easiest part of learning.¡± Nolvi said, ¡°But Grandmother can speed you through it faster then I can. She has an understanding of the Golden Flame that the most talented of mages couldn¡¯t grasp, even with a thousand years of training. You could be done in ten minutes or less, depending on your aptitude of course.¡±


    Hoplite hesitated, but finally nodded, ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    The Soldier knew this was a waste of time, but he wanted to prove to the Child that there was no Ahkoolian DNA to be found within him, it was time to prove that damn Dragon Legolanthas wrong.

 Chapter Thirty-Six: Shattered Foundation

    Hoplite stared hard at Lithia, internally berating himself for even daring to try using magic. He couldn¡¯t have Ahkoolian DNA, surely. That was what he kept telling himself anyhow, but until he proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt, the Soldier and the Child would continue to pester him. If this could be done in as short a time as Nolvi claimed, then he would do it, just to put this to rest.


    ¡°I want to prove that I am who I am.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°I¡¯ll show you that I¡¯m telling the truth.¡±


    ¡°Very well, Dragonling.¡± Lithia replied, her tone amused, ¡°Feeling the Flame is easy, and once you do, then your truth will be revealed, one way or another¡­¡±


    Nolvi awkwardly moved up beside the throne-bound body, looking nervous. Lithia then took a deep breath, sounding like a crinkling bag of paper as she did so.


    ¡°You must shut your eyes first.¡± Lithia instructed.


    Hoplite did so.


    ¡°Now imagine the Golden Flame in your mind''s eye, form it in a scape of blackness.¡±


    Hoplite again, did so. Using his imagination this way was strange¡­ he wasn¡¯t used to it. Despite that, he conjured up the fire in his mind, just a wisp in a plane of darkness.


    ¡°Once you see the Flame, you must give it light, let it illuminate its surroundings¡­ whatever you see will influence how this goes.¡± Lithia explained, taking another raspy breath.


    He squinted, allowing the flame to brighten, revealing the interior of a cryopod, just the same as the one in the Sparrow. The glass was almost completely frosted over, but a spot of warmth from the Flame created a clear spot of moisture in its surface.


    ¡°Make the Flame burn hot.¡± Lithia commanded.


    Hoplite did so, the frost on the glass quickly vanishing from the warmth, turning to water before gliding down the glass. Beyond stood a man, no, not just a man¡­ a Hoplite.


    Hoplite Twenty-Five, having allowed his white beard to grow over his tanned face. Golden eyes that matched his own stared at him through the wet glass. Hoplite¡¯s hands tightened into fists, despite knowing that this was his imagination, he found it hard not to try and pounce on the traitor who had tricked him.


    ¡°Whatever it is you see, engulf it in the fire.¡±


    With pleasure. Hoplite willed the Flame to phase through the wet glass, immolating the unflinching Twenty-Five, who still bore that insufferable smile on his face.


    ¡°And now, engulf yourself.¡± Lithia spoke softly.


    He did so, and- A warmth spread through his body then, not just in his mind, but his real form. It felt¡­ it felt amazing, he felt powerful, as if he could do anything he willed. He did not need to sleep, eat, or rest any longer now, he could be the ultimate soldier!


    ¡°Open your eyes, little Dragon.¡± Lithia commanded, sounding pleased with herself.


    His imagined reality faded away as soon as he did so, and his golden eyes widened as he saw before him¡­ to his terror, an equally Golden mote of fire, sitting in the air before him, waiting to be shaped. His jaw fell open, trembling as his skin froze over.


    ¡°I only wanted you to feel it!¡± Lithia gave a raspy laugh, ¡°But look at what you¡¯ve done! Quite impressive, you have a knack for this.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Hoplite insisted, moreso to himself, ¡°That can¡¯t- That isn¡¯t-¡±


    He bit his lip to stop it from trembling, there was no way this was possible. The Soldier writhed in agony upon seeing this, the Child for his part, just went limp¡­ Hoplite himself fell to his knees, the Golden Flame of Foundation still floating before him. Twenty-Five¡¯s words returned to him then, in all their power, unburied and painful¡­ taking him back to that place and time where his world had been shattered.


    <hr>


    ¡°Listen.¡± Hoplite Twenty-Five sighed, sitting down in a chair across from Thirty-Seven. ¡°I¡¯m telling you the truth here, not only that, I can prove it to you.¡±


    Hoplite had been captured by the rebel forces mere hours ago, and had been restrained with Twenty-Five¡¯s help. He sat in a solid tungsteel chair, apparently of Twenty-Five¡¯s own making. The bindings themselves were built in as well, keeping his head, neck, and limbs all clamped down to prevent him from moving. The room they were in was made up of a drab, yet heavily reinforced concrete. A single light source illuminated the chamber from above, reflecting off the heavy steel door behind Twenty-Five. If Thirty-Seven could get out of these bindings, he¡¯d be able to power through that door easily enough.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to prove Twenty-Five, surrender now and we can proceed with your reindoctrination.¡± He attempted to reason. ¡°You can still come back.¡±


    Twenty-Five shook his head, ¡°I¡¯m not going to do that, I can honestly say I¡¯d rather be dead.¡±


    ¡°Twenty-Five, you¡¯ve been manipulated by insurgent forces, you aren¡¯t in any rational state of mind.¡± Thirty-Seven pointed out. ¡°Come with me and we can rendezvous with-¡±


    ¡°Cut the soldier-talk Jason, I¡¯m not one any more.¡± Twenty-Five cut him off, ¡°And I¡¯ll never be one again.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± Hoplite warned, eyes going wide as a mote of anger welled up within him.


    ¡°Tools shouldn¡¯t get mad over things like that¡­ right?¡± Twenty-Five asked, raising white eyebrows. ¡°That right there proves that we¡¯re more than weapons, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±


    Hoplite¡¯s jaw clenched, but he did not reply.


    ¡°Anyway Jason, I¡¯ll say it again, Jyn is not a human being. He¡¯s an extraterrestrial-¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± Hoplite replied quickly, ¡°He is a gifted man that can do things outside what is natural, that is all.¡±


    ¡°Come on man.¡± Twenty-Five said, a tinge of frustration in his tone, ¡°Human beings cannot do the things Jyn does, otherwise there¡¯d be more people like him around.¡±


    ¡°Lord Jyn is the one exception.¡± Hoplite retorted, ¡°He had a mutation at birth that gave him his abilities.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve seen lots of mutants in our time Jason,¡± Twenty-Five sighed, ¡°Mutants strong enough to bend steel or fast enough to dodge bullets, hell, we¡¯re a cocktail of mutations- but Jyn is different.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°He is different.¡± Hoplite allowed, ¡°He is the ultimate branch of humankind, what he wants us all to become.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bunch of horseshit.¡± Twenty-Five growled, narrowing his eyes, ¡°No mere mutants can do what he does.¡±


    ¡°He isn¡¯t a ¡®mere mutant.¡¯¡± Hoplite shot back.


    ¡°We can go back and forth about this for days, maybe even months, but I know you Jason, you always overthink everything. I figure the best way to prove to you that he isn¡¯t human is to show you. The rebels here got footage of something he did, extracted from a Final Kind blackbox, if you can believe it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± Hoplite said with a sneer, ¡°Clearly whatever it is they showed you was fake.¡±


    ¡°I went over the footage over and over again to find faults, but I couldn¡¯t come up with anything.¡± Twenty-Five said, setting a smooth silvery square on the table.


    A green light split the thing down the middle, that light seeming to pulse.


    ¡°What do you plan on accomplishing with this treachery?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°You know as well as I that Lord Jyn has extra-capable abilities.¡±


    Twenty-Five then laughed, shaking his head, ¡°Extra-capable, right. It is supernatural, Jason. I have learned that he holds back, that he can do more than he lets on. He could have ended this war with a wave of his hand if he really wanted to¡­¡± He then leaned over, running a thumb down the center of the Final Kind device, ¡°Let me show you.¡±


    The green light then pulsed, the device splitting to show a small, holographic projector. He¡¯d seen several of these in his time, the Final Kind liked to record everything that happened with their ships, inside and out. The tech was still not fully understood yet, but there were theories that the aliens used nigh-microscopic cameras to capture footage. Hoplite also knew that there was no way for humans to fake footage and install it onto one of these¡­ Human and alien tech was far to foreign to port such things to one another.


    It didn¡¯t matter, if it showed Lord Jyn pulling off a feat that appeared supernatural, then that was it. Twenty-Five had merely bought into the rebels'' claims, and had over-reacted to it once he was brain-washed. Then the hologram appeared, though aside from the diminutive size of the scene, one could hardly tell. It was almost like a tiny Final Kind command center was right there, floating above the table. He could see dozens of Swaglay, Yugoro, and other such aliens manning the controls, with a particularly large Yugoro sitting in a command throne at the center of the amphitheater. The alien¡¯s throne swiveled around periodically as it frantically gave commands to the crew, its gravelly voice sounding desperate¡­ fearful even.


    ¡°This was one of the first times we ever encountered a Dragon-Class cruiser, see how scared they all are?¡± Twenty-Five asked, ¡°Doesn¡¯t make sense right? They¡¯re basically invincible to whatever we can throw at that craft.¡±


    ¡°Did Lord Jyn infiltrate and sabotage the ship by himself?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°That is not something out of human limits.¡±


    ¡°Just wait, let me shift the camera to what is outside the ship.¡± Twenty-Five said, tapping one side of the square. ¡°And just for your information, that reaction came after what you¡¯re about to see.¡±


    The scene changed again, this time showing the ships hull and¡­ and¡­ Hoplite¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°That¡¯s not-¡± He gulped, ¡°That¡¯s not possible, there was a fault with the recording equipment, clearly.¡±


    Floating there, in the vacuum of space, was Lord Jyn, massive armored arms crossed as he glared directly at the ship¡­ seemingly anchored to nothing as his dark, skull-shaped helmet stared at the surface of the Dragon. His armor was ornate, a deep black like the void of space surrounding him. Were it not for the red trim of his power armor, Lord Jyn would have been much harder to pick out against the darkness of space. A long cape floated gently at his back, also black and trimmed with crimson, the symbol of the Octopus on its back. His bracers and sabatons were etched in the shape of tendrils, reaching toward his armored hands and feet. Lord Jyn looked just as imposing as he remembered, and even though the projected version of him was small, there was still an overwhelming presence to it. He wanted to kneel right there, though he knew that was ridiculous¡­ it wasn¡¯t as if this were the real man.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to tell you why that isn¡¯t normal.¡± Twenty-Five said, ¡°How the hell did he get there? Where are his weapons, his ship, anything?¡±


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t prove he isn¡¯t human.¡± Hoplite pointed out, ¡°He is getting ready to sabotage the ship.¡±


    ¡°By himself?¡± Twenty-Five asked, an irritating chuckle following, ¡°Well, you¡¯re right in a sense¡­ This doesn¡¯t prove anything by itself, but it¡¯s still strange. Pay attention, he¡¯s about to do it.¡±


    ¡°About to do what-¡±


    Jyn¡¯s arms then extended to either side of him, palms open before a¡­ a black light began to shine from beneath the plates of his armor. Hoplite¡¯s brow furrowed as he saw this, a strange and gaudy feature for their Lord¡¯s armor, but who was Thirty-Seven to judge-


    Then, just like that, the form of Lord Jyn, who he had thought was a man, changed into something so massive, so horrible, that his mind struggled to comprehend what he was viewing. Time slowed for him, as it often did when in a stressful situation¡­ allowing to pick out every detail of what was before him. A massive octopus dominated the hologram now, eight moon-thick tendrils reaching toward the Dragon-Class cruiser like whips, battering through the shields with ease and sundering the surface of the craft like it were nothing but cardboard.


    Twenty-Five continued to press the button on the black box, showing the horrid creature from dozens of different angles as it began crushing the Dragon in its tendrils, not so different from the ancient tale of the Kraken. Twenty-Five kept speeding through the different angles, no doubt knowing that Thirty-Seven¡¯s perception of time had come to a crawl¡­ there were thousands of cameras that had viewed this- this horror.


    Thousands of aliens were crushed in hallways or sucked out into the vacuum of space, screaming as the darkness claimed them. The Dragon helplessly tried to fire back at the Kraken, but every single plasma blast was absorbed¡­by¡­ by A Golden Flame. These motes of fire  would envelop the blasts well before they could even graze the surface of the beast. What caused these strange flames, he did not know¡­


    But- surely there was no way this was real! The thousands upon thousands of cameras had to have been doctored! Given to the rebels by Final Kind forces to sew distrust among those loyal to Lord Jyn!


    ¡°We never destroyed a Dragon-class frigate, this is fake!¡± Hoplite yelled, shooting Twenty-Five a sharp glare.


    ¡°Yes¡­ we never did. Jyn though, he definitely did, as you saw.¡± Twenty-five confirmed, ¡°This was something that happened toward the beginning of the war, and for some reason it never was reported, but I¡¯ll tell you something Jason, this footage is real¡­ I¡¯ve seen the wreckage myself, and I¡¯m willing to take you to it if that is what we need to do.¡±


    ¡°Liar!¡± Hoplite screamed, straining against his binds.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get you ready then, it¡¯s not even that far away from this system. Why do you think the Final Kind doesn''t come around this planet?¡± He asked, not waiting for an answer, ¡°That¡¯s right, not even the Final Kind knows that this happened! All they know is that a Dragon-Class cruiser got destroyed here somehow, and they¡¯re scared to come back, at least, that¡¯s what my friends think.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fake dammit!¡± Hoplite screamed, ¡°It¡¯s fake!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see the proof soon enough.¡± Twenty-Five said coldly.


    And see the proof he did¡­ Twenty-Five had indeed made the week-long trek just outside the solar system to show Thirty-Seven the remains of the Dragon-class cruiser. Restrained as he was, Hoplite could still see the impossibly large debris floating outside the window¡­ countless alien corpses strewn throughout the frozen rubble, still wearing their gear. Massive sucker-marks could be seen where more whole sections of the ship lay intact¡­ sucker marks that Lord Jyn-


    Sucker marks that Jyn had made.


    ¡°Tell me it¡¯s fake now.¡± Twenty-Five said, ¡°I can play the video again so you can see where the impact zones match up-¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Hoplite replied, defeated and hanging his head, ¡°I don¡¯t want to see anything anymore.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that Jason.¡± Twenty-Five said, ¡°Look, Jyn is gone now, he left humanity to its own devices, there¡¯s no reason for us to continue this war, not unless the Final Kind wants it, anyhow. We can retire, be something else, hell, be someone for a change.¡± He said with a soft smile, ¡°We can be people, we aren¡¯t tools, no matter what Commander told us.¡±


    Hoplite merely grunted in reply.


    ¡°Should we head back planetside?¡± Twenty-Five asked.


    ¡°You can.¡± Thirty-Seven said, ¡°Vent me into space.¡±


    Twenty-Five froze, face becoming serious, ¡°Not a chance, Jason. I know that curious boy I grew up with is still in there somewhere. You always wanted to learn about everything you could, even when it had nothing to do with warfare, now you¡¯re free to do so.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m thawing, I¡¯ll become dangerous-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bunch of crap!¡± Twenty-Five insisted, ¡°I¡¯ve been out of cryo for a year, and look at me! I¡¯m fine Jason, and you will be too.¡±


    ¡°Why do you want this so badly?¡± Hoplite asked, ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Because Jason,¡± Twenty-Five began, approaching him to undo his tungsteel bindings. Hoplite felt too drained to attempt finishing his mission¡­ and merely stood, turning to face Twenty-Five, ¡°You are my brother.¡±


    Hoplite clutched the sides of his helmet, falling to his knees before Lithia with a scream.


    ¡°As in, brothers in arms¡­ I get it.¡± Thirty-Seven replied flatly.


    ¡°No, not just that man. You, me, all the other Hoplites? It¡¯s not just a ¡®brothers in arms¡¯ matter.¡± Hector told him.


    Jason squinted, ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Hoplite stood shakily, still clutching the sides of his helmet as he stumbled out of Lithia¡¯s chamber and into the cavern, breathing heavily as his eyes bucked in his skull.


    ¡°The selection process was more complicated than just picking some genetically gifted humans. This was a long term project for Jyn- us, I mean.¡±


    Nolvi tried to follow him, but Hoplite growled at her like an animal, the girl backing into the wall as he strode back up the incline, removing his helmet and letting it roll down to the bottom.


    ¡°Just try to stay calm here when I tell you this¡­ but Jyn isn¡¯t just the guy in charge, not to you and me.¡±


    Hoplite howled, smashing his fist into his own head in an attempt to knock himself unconscious- the blow dazed him, the skin practically exploding off his own cheek and knocking him to the ground. He raised his fist again to strike¡­ but The Child held him back. The Soldier attacked him, wanting to repress the incoming truth¡­ yet the Child was stronger now, stronger than both Hoplite and the Soldier.


    ¡°Jyn is-¡±


    ¡°Our father.¡± Hoplite finished, letting his fist fall to the ground, ¡°My father is a monster.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Mad Soldier

    It had been three days since their imprisonment in this dank, awful dungeon¡­ Lance wasn¡¯t sure how much more of this she could take. The Romai had already deemed that she was not a Godling, and had been considering moving her to a lower risk, but still heavily guarded cell. She hardly cared¡­ the guilt that gnawed at her conscience was what made her imprisonment nigh unbearable, not the horrid conditions.


    She had sold out everyone else, and though she tried to reason that it had been the right thing to do¡­ she still felt foul. They were Pillar-Born, it would be they that destroyed the world and everyone she loved were they allowed to run free. In her eyes they were monsters, beasts that would burn the world in their quests to ascend. Despite these reasonings though, Lance still felt like garbage. She¡¯d come to know these people during their long journey across the Greatbridge, Twindil especially¡­


    It made her sick, both that she¡¯d gotten so friendly with monsters, and that she¡¯d betrayed them. A part of her wanted nothing more for herself other than to rot in this cell for what she¡¯d done¡­ yet another part urged her to escape and right her wrongs, to free Twindil and the others despite their nature. There was also Michael and Cat to consider as well, there was no way that the former was in any good state of mind right now, not if he was in a cell like Lance¡¯s. If he was screaming or banging against the walls of his cell, she wouldn¡¯t be able to hear it, no sound seemed to penetrate these walls, save for when the slot at the door was open.


    That dwarf, Dundale, rarely stopped by to speak with her, but when he did he inquired about her and the Faewood, specifically. He was a curious one, that Dundale, she could tell, so she answered a few of his questions, but never went into specifics about the Bastion or how Watchers operated. When she asked him about Hoplite however, he always fell silent for some reason. It was after the first day that Hoplite became a touchy subject, before that a few other dwarves had demanded that she cease commanding him, which confused her.


    They had nearly gotten to the point of violence with their demands, but it had been Dundale that had stopped them, insisting that Hoplite was not a mere golem, but likely a large man within a suit of armor¡­ After he¡¯d said that, she had been questioned about his true nature. The Fanged Guard that had been there had threatened to drain her if she didn¡¯t answer truthfully, that he would be able to tell if she was lying. She didn¡¯t know if that was the truth, but confirming this essentially saved her from being tortured. This exchange had put a spark of hope in her, maybe somehow, Hoplite had managed to escape somewhere. It was either that, or they had managed to somehow get him out of the Phalanx suit and throw him in a cell, perhaps even one in this jail.


    Though, if he was in this same jail, she doubted he¡¯d remain contained. He¡¯d save them all, surely¡­ it wasn¡¯t like him to let this much time pass though. Despair filled her as she imagined him dying, being drained by a horde of vampires as he tried to reach the prison. She bit her lip to keep it from quivering- could that have been her fault as well?


    Before she could think on it further, the slide on the door opened. ¡°You¡¯re being transferred.¡± A deep, unfamiliar voice said. Deep crimson eyes regarded her from the open slot, conveying utter disgust.


    Lance stood on shaky legs, her hands still encumbered by the thick wrappings encasing her arms by the elbows down. The door finally opened, one of the Fanged Guard standing in the now open doorway, armored hands clasped behind his back. Two other dwarves stood behind him, aiming rifles right at her.


    ¡°Exit the chamber.¡± The vampire commanded.


    She kept her eyes averted, not wanting to draw the creature''s ire. The three days in this rotting cell had made her worn, tired¡­ The last thing she wanted was to provoke her captors. The monster stepped back to allow her through, for a moment showing the difference between their heights. The dwarf only came up to her stomach, but his forearms were as thick as her legs, with hands wide enough to bend steel.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to remove the chains around your arms first.¡± He told her, leading through the moist moldy hallway.


    The rifle wielding dwarves kept their guns trained on her back as they moved through the hall. Her bare feet practically froze over as she walked across cold puddles of dark liquid. Her long dark hair was a rats nest now, and her baggy eyes struggled to adjust to the new light streaming in from the open door ahead. She felt humiliated at being paraded through the hall wearing only the barest of rags to cover her modesty¡­ This imprisonment had to no-doubt be the worst leg of this journey¡­ and perhaps the last.


    ¡°If we can¡¯t remove the chains via magical means, we may have to pursue more conventional methods.¡± The vampire told her as they passed into the hall.


    Lance squinted, unable to see well as they finally passed into a well-lit hallway, ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll remove your arms, just from the elbow, so don¡¯t worry.¡± The vampire said in an attempt at a reassuring tone.


    ¡°My arms!?¡± She questioned, stopping in place.


    ¡°Aye, if we can¡¯t remove them with magic.¡± He said, ¡°You don¡¯t need your arms to survive. Now slave, onward.¡±


    Almost on cue, one of the guards behind her slammed the butt of his rifle into Lance¡¯s back, sending her stumbling forward from the force. She nearly lashed out with her bound fists, but thought better of it when she met the gaze of the vampire¡­ his red eyes conveying contempt. Gritting her teeth, Lance ignored her urge to fight back, knowing that in her current state, refusing to comply would result in another strike. A part of her still wished to fight, despite her hopeless circumstances. She had just gotten these chains mere days ago, losing them now would make her useless once again- and who were these dwarves to claim them? The chains had chosen her!


    Of course, Lance didn¡¯t voice these complaints. She just had to hope that some miracle would occur that would free her. However, as they continued through the horribly bright hallways, she began to lose hope. No one came to free her from her shackles as she was led along by the vampire and his two guards. Other dwarves in the engraved halls all pressed against the walls, bowing to the vampire before promptly staring directly at Lance, their eyes conveying pure curiosity.


    That¡¯s right, they¡¯d probably never seen an elf before in their lives¡­ a part of her felt that it was a shame that she had to represent her species in this state, basically naked and covered in filth like a barn animal; to their ancient rivals, no less. They walked for what felt like an hour, passing through maze-like corridors without rest until finally, they reached an engraved steel door. The vampire lifted a fist, knocking on the door before clasping his hands behind his back. After a moment, the door opened a crack, revealing a dwarf with crazed green eyes and frizzy white hair. The newcomer wore a white coat, his white beard covering his chest.


    ¡°Ah¡­ So this is the elf, at least one of them.¡± The dwarf said, ¡°It is so nice to make your acquaintance young lady, I am Malubal, I will be the one conducting your examination, and if necessary, your amputation.¡±


    Lance took an involuntary step backwards, which was met with another forceful shove by the dwarf behind her, ¡°Get in there now, slave.¡± He ordered.


    ¡°I will be supervising in case of another incident like the one in the industrial sector, if she becomes aggressive, I will execute her immediately.¡± The vampire assured, ¡°So have no fear.¡±


    ¡°Of course not, Lord Falewa.¡± Malubal bowed, ¡°It is a privilege to have you observe my work.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Falewa nodded, ¡°Get her inside, now.¡± He ordered his two lackeys, who urged her to enter the chamber.


    Lance, gritting her teeth once more, complied with the order, stepping into the bright chamber. A stool with tiny rolling wheels sat on the right side of the room, right next to a desk covered in piles of paper. Squinting her eyes, Lance was shocked to see that they all bore the same perfect handwriting. Had Maluba written all that himself? It didn¡¯t seem possible, especially with how many papers were there. On the left side of the room was a steel table, a sheet of thin paper laid across it. Disturbingly, there were bindings for feet and legs attached, though it was designed for a much shorter person. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to use ropes or chains to adjust for her, the workshops still haven¡¯t sent me the appropriate table yet.¡± Maluba said casually, rifling through his desk and coming out with thick bands of rope, ¡°She isn¡¯t a Pillar-Born, so these should do just fine.¡±


    ¡°Hurry it along.¡± The vampire urged with a wave of his hand, ¡°I have other duties I must attend to today.¡±


    Maluba bowed, ¡°Of course, my lord. Lady elf, please sit down on that table there, and lay flat on your back. Otherwise you may suffer.¡± He told her casually.


    Lance grimaced, briefly considering if she could somehow flee through the halls and escape. Those thoughts intensified as she saw Maluba pull out a few, quite sharp looking instruments from his desk. He placed them atop it, not caring to clear away the papers as he studied the blades, particularly the steel bonesaw.


    ¡°No worries, I won¡¯t use most of these unless you expire.¡± Maluba said, again trying to reassure her, ¡°But that shouldn¡¯t happen, hopefully.¡±


    Lance shuddered, ¡°Can I please just go?¡± She asked, receiving a slap from Falewa across her cheek.


    The blow sent her crashing to the floor, pain stinging her face, ¡°Don¡¯t you speak out of turn again slave, or next time I will not hold back.¡±


    ¡°Please do not harm my subject any further, lord Falewa.¡±  Maluba practically begged, bowing deeply, ¡°She must be intact for my studies, if need be we may simply gag her.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Falewa said dismissively, ¡°If you speak again, wretch, you will be gagged. Do not speak unless you are spoken to. Do I make myself clear?¡±


    Lance nodded, wanting to remove the vampire''s head right then and there. If she wasn¡¯t bound like this, she may have stood a chance with her chains.


    ¡°Good. Proceed doctor, consider me an impartial observer, I care not what you do to the slave, just make it quick, be it scalpel or saw.¡± Falewa ordered, tone brooking no argument.


    ¡°Of course my lord.¡± Maluba bowed again, ¡°Table, lady elf, please.¡±


    Lance complied, sitting on the table before laying flat on her back. Maluba then began tying her down with the ropes, with one across her forehead, arms and chest, as well as her feet. She could hardly move after the bindings were completed, and in vain she tried to come up with a plan for escape. The door was open- No, one of the two lackey¡¯s had just closed it, so much for that. Maybe if she could swipe up a scalpel in her teeth, she could quickly blind the vampire before killing everyone else¡­ but the guards both had their guns trained on her, and with her bound to the table it was a useless plan.


    She knew better than most how quickly those triggers could be pulled, she¡¯d done so herself once. Lance was fast, but she didn¡¯t think she could move faster than that. Lance prayed to whichever god would listen that she would keep her arms¡­ making sure not to voice her prayers aloud. Maluba, strangely, just pulled up his stool, holding his hands over her and shutting his eyes. The old dwarf chewed on his cheek for a few moments before he sighed.


    ¡°It¡¯s no use, amputation is the only way to get these chains off of her. They are a Binding type, neither raw Foundation nor House-Spell will remove them.¡± He said, standing before approaching his desk, ¡°If we send for one of the Long Lord¡¯s then maybe it can be done.¡±


    Falewa sneered, ¡°I would not waste the Long Lord¡¯s time with such a trifle. Just amputate, cauterize, and be done with it already.¡±


    Lance¡¯s eyes widened, ¡°Wait-¡±


    A fist struck her jaw, nearly knocking her unconscious in that one blow, ¡°What did I tell you?¡± Falewa asked rhetorically, ¡°Shut your damn mouth!¡± He shouted, ¡°Damn slave-stock!¡±


    Lance was too rattled to reply, no one had ever struck her so hard in all her life.


    The world spun as Maluba approached, a large bone-saw in hand, ¡°I will cauterize the wounds soon after amputation, don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t die from this.¡±


    He then brought the blade of the saw close to the flesh of her elbow, and tears began welling in her eyes. Her need for adventure had brought her here, and her treachery had made her deserving of it¡­ perhaps this was what the Pillar-Gods had intended for her¡­ The saw then bit into her skin, but the blade never got the chance to move.


    Something made the door open, drawing the attention of the vampire and his minions.


    ¡°What the hells?¡± Falewa questioned, ¡°Is there something wrong with your door, Maluba?¡±


    ¡°Negative.¡± A familiar voice said, right before Falewa¡¯s throat exploded.


    Black blood shot across the chamber, coating Lance and everyone else in a spatter of dark gore. Inexplicably, Falewa¡¯s head detached from his armored body, the spinal cord coming with it. It fell to the ground without ceremony, then the other two lackey¡¯s died, their heads becoming little more than puddles as something caused their heads to crush in on themselves, the shattered bits of wet skull plopping to the ground. Maluba attempted to scream, but his throat crushed in on itself, the bonesaw clattering to the ground along with the now-dead dwarf.


    Lance¡¯s breathing quickened as she struggled against her bindings, but soon she found that her panic had been unnecessary. Relief filled her as Hoplite simply¡­ appeared in the room from nowhere, naked as the day he was born. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to care about his nudity, as soon as he unbound her from the table, she rushed into him, wrapping her bound arms around his midsection.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± She sniffled, ¡°Thank you¡­¡±


    Hoplite did not reciprocate the hug, grabbing her by the shoulders before gently pushing her away from him. He then looked her right in the eyes, and Lance gasped. There was a horrid mania in his wide golden eyes now, his bloody hands leaving streaking red trails down his arms.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to evacuate, soldier, where is your commander?¡± He asked her in that same, normally flat tone, ¡°The Final Kind are everywhere, we need to pull back to base for now.¡±


    ¡°...Hoplite?¡± She asked him in a gentle tone, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, marine, I haven¡¯t received any injuries.¡± Hoplite confirmed with a sharp nod, ¡°I will debrief you once we¡¯re out of here, there isn¡¯t enough time.¡±


    He then ripped off the bindings around her arms as if they were nothing but paper, her aching forearms stinging at the exposure to fresh air. Before she could say anything, Hoplite quite literally swept her off her feet, holding her like a baby before becoming invisible once more. Looking down at herself, she saw that somehow, he¡¯d made her disappear as well. Could Hoplite have somehow learned to use Foundation in such a short time?


    ¡°How are you doing this?¡± Lance whispered.


    ¡°New technology.¡± He replied flatly.


    New technology? He had nothing with him but his bare hands¡­ What was he talking about? Hoplite opened the door once again, stepping into the hall before shutting the door behind him with his foot. Dwarves went about their business, wandering through the halls even as Hoplite weaved out of their path, making his way to an unknown destination. Lance dared not speak, simply holding onto Hoplite as he made his way through the city. For such a big man, he sure could walk quietly when he needed to. Even though they were in a dire situation, she found herself relishing the warmth of his skin¡­ the constant cold of the dungeon had left her perpetually freezing, he may as well have been a roaring fireplace in comparison. A few minutes of relative calm passed before those strange red lights began blaring, the horrid sound nearly sending her hands to her ears.


    Hoplite picked up the pace, now running through the hall while still weaving to avoid the now-still dwarves. Confusion was evident on their faces and in their eyes, that with a tinge of fear. A staticy voice then began playing over the intercom, coming from several different sound-boxes affixed to the ceiling.


    ¡°Evacuate and lay low, one of the prisoners has escaped. Fanged Guard en-route and on the hunt, have no fear.¡± The voice echoed through the halls.


    She remained quiet despite Hoplite¡¯s faster pace, with him now full on sprinting down the hall. Quickly he weaved through the dwarves, but the speed of his passage either sent them reeling or blew stacks of parchment from their hands, amongst other things. Lance shut her eyes and just held on for dear life, not opening them again until eventually, Hoplite slowed his pace.


    They were somewhere dark now, quiet, with nary a soul to be seen other than her and Hoplite. It was another hallway, but it was in a slight state of disrepair. It was still in far better condition then what her cell had been, there were only a few cracks in the concrete here and there. The dim white lights above flickered slightly as they moved through the hall, making the place feel somewhat eerie. After a few turns, Hoplite found an open doorway.


    ¡°This is where I got in.¡± He told her, ¡°Hold on soldier, we aren¡¯t through yet, the Yugoro¡¯s are right on our tail.¡±


    ¡°Yugoro¡¯s?¡± She asked, ¡°Hoplite, we¡¯ve seen none of those creatures here-¡±


    ¡°Negative marine, they were trying to dissect you. Clearly you¡¯ve received head trauma, you¡¯ll need to be treated as soon as we¡¯re out of here.¡± He told her, passing through the doorway.


    His normally monotone voice carried a slight edge to it now, not anger¡­ something else. The room was small, perhaps the size of a large closet. Otherwise she could see nothing special about it, all the walls seemed to be whole. How had he gotten in here from this closet? This couldn¡¯t have been where the Romai had taken Hoplite after he¡¯d been paralyzed. Hoplite shut the door behind him, again with his foot, before simply passing through the middle wall as if it weren¡¯t there.


    Lance blinked, turning her head to see that, on the other side of that wall, was a large hole. It appeared as if Hoplite had broken in through there, and had somehow used Foundation to cast an illusion over the entrance. Turning back, all she could see was darkness, when her eyes adjusted, she could see that they were in a cavern. Yet, this section of the cave seemed as if it had recently been dug through, or more specifically, broken through. The surface of the rock here was gray and powdered here, with dozens of broken off chunks of stone swept off to the sides of the fresh tunnel. Hoplite could have used the Phalanx suit to break through she supposed¡­ But wouldn¡¯t the Romai have heard Hoplite pounding away at the rock? How did he even know that a maintenance closet would be there, in an abandoned section of the city, no less?


    There were a lot of questions she wanted to ask, but one above all left her lips first, ¡°Hoplite, are you okay? Not physically I mean.¡± She clarified, remembering that she¡¯d asked him earlier.


    ¡°Never been better, marine.¡± Hoplite said, again that slightly manic tinge in his tone.


    He dismissed the spell keeping them both invisible¡­ and again they made eye-contact. The mania was still there, but now that things were relatively safe, she could see a second emotion, swimming just beneath the surface of it all. She¡¯d rarely seen it in anyone, but it was present in Hoplite¡¯s gaze.


    Hoplite was deeply disturbed.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight: Gods and Sweets

    Twindil opened her eyes as the familiar sound of the metal eye hole sliding open pierced her ears. She roused and stretched her arms high over her head. Once her vision was clear, she examined the small slit of light highlighting their regular guard: Dundale. Then, she noticed that her cell had gained a plate of food.


    ¡°Oh, thank you, Dundale.¡± She smiled and approached the door. A small, circular treat sat on a white plate.


    Looking at it, Twindil felt it odd that a prisoner like her would be trusted with such a gift. Perhaps the extended time in captivity was breaking down the suspicion. In theory, she could smash the plate and try to slice at him, but that wouldn¡¯t open the door. And frankly, Twindil didn¡¯t want to harm the talkative, curious dwarf. Maybe if given enough time, she could convince him into giving her and her friends more freedom.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Romai sweet bun, made from mushroom bread and grub sweets,¡± he said gently.


    ¡°It¡¯s a very generous gift.¡± She admitted, eyeing the place where his dark eyes would be through the gloom. ¡°Why?¡±


    Dundale angled his head proudly higher. ¡°For all the accomplishments that our people have achieved while forced underground, I consider the feat of horticulture and husbandry the greatest. We¡¯ve adapted to cultivate food entirely by electric lights, to innovate mushroom types and uses, and to utilize the earthbound fauna to our needs. This is a culmination of our mastery.¡±


    Twindil doubted that was the case, but put it as kindly as she could. ¡°It¡¯s not a crime to give a lady a treat, you know.¡±


    The dwarf grunted and leaned back from the eye slot for a moment.


    She took the food in her cuffed hands and took a small bite. It was surprisingly sweet and had a nutty aftertaste. Then, her vision blurred and shimmered with water and her throat felt smaller as emotion came over her. When was the last time she¡¯d been given a gift of any kind?


    The sisters of Afina¡¯s church had given her her armor and sword. Further back in time, she recalled fondly the winter celebrations and secret gift exchanges between her friends. She¡¯d used her time as a blacksmith¡¯s apprentice to craft little animal-shaped pieces of scrap for Elum, Nolvi, Alistair, and Kid¡¯ka, and in turn they snuck her folded papers or other tiny trinkets. Each and every gift had a special place in her heart and memory.


    Twindil closed her eyes and prayed that the darkness hid her weakness. Forgive me, Afina, for being so easily distracted from your tranquility. Further concealing her reaction, she turned toward the far wall and focused on eating the rare sweet and savoring every bite.


    Once finished, she resumed her calming demeanor and asked, ¡°So, Dundale, what do you want to talk about today?¡±


    ¡°I wish to hear more about the new gods.¡±


    Somehow, the names of the last three gods had been coaxed from the party. Twindil didn¡¯t fault them, though, since she had no idea what had been inflicted on the poor souls to force the information out. Dundale was only one of their visitors. Every other dwarf treated her like a barely sentient creature.


    She smiled and said in a gently correcting tone, ¡°Volumes have been written about each one. You may have to be more specific.¡±


    Dundale¡¯s voice was a flurry of passionate, almost jumbled words, ¡°What do you find interesting about them, what makes them important and worthy of the title of Pillar, and how does your perspective while being a fledgling goddess yourself change how you see previous Godling Wars successors?¡±


    Thinking for a longer moment, Twindil finally answered, ¡°I think the most interesting aspect about the gods and godlings in general is how a godling earns their title upon ascension. Though, I will speak more about the last two, since revealing Afina¡¯s origins and secrets goes against my faith.¡±


    After gaining an affirming grunt from the guard, Twindil began, ¡°The Pillar Gods, Saihara, Draoi, and Zodd, had no competition for their ascension, so it is said they chose their own designations of commanding the pillars of Knowledge, Foundation, and Might respectively. Their children, however, had to earn their titles by their actions through the Godling Wars. The first winner was Kyria, daughter of Draoi, and the most prolific user of Foundation. She became the Pillar of Magic, thus creating the first House which magic can be casted from, safer than using raw Foundation, as I¡¯m sure you know. From there came Darax of the Second Age, the gladiator and general who became known as War himself. As is the trend with all who followed.


    ¡°The process of succumbing to the overwhelming power of godhood and the progression into insanity is usually finalized by a large, destructive event that kills many. However, that is not always the case. According to the prophets of several ages, Dandenlona, Pillar of Nature, was simply the last one alive as she hid in a remote part of Ahkoolis as the others killed each other. Fikchon has tried to present himself to the prophets in several ages as a kind, good natured unifier of all, but one record has stood the test of time that tells another story. Fikchon¡¯s title of Pillar of Unity also is contested to mean that he combined all of his competition into one giant, grotesque homunculus as he grew more maddened, then killed the amalgamation in one blow. However, historical opinions seemed to sway back and forth about the matter, since it is well known that the Pillar Gods can lie about their ascension and feats while they were mortal.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Perhaps the most well-known example is that of Guile, Pillar of Cunning, and his two accounts of ascension. The first story told to the prophet contained a tale where he hosted a tournament for all surviving godlings at the end of the Eighth Age. After promising that he would host and guide the challenge, but would willingly submit to the winner, he gathered all the godlings into one area. Madness was upon them all and such great, terrible feats of magic and skill razed the battlefield time and again. Toward the end of this tournament, when the winner had emerged, battered and exhausted, he approached Guile to kill him¡­ only for Guile to betray that trust, slaying the winner at his weakest. This deceitful act ascended him to the Pillar-God of Cunning.¡± Twindil paused to take a breath.


    ¡°In his second account, the one that he has told the prophet of this age, Guile said that his manipulation of his godling tournament was far more intensive. He said that he harmed the competitors with several kinds of slow-acting poisons that would bypass various sorts of immunities. He claimed that his tampering of the contest¡¯s food and drink indirectly affected who was able to progress and who it was he backstabbed at the end. It¡¯s impossible to test such claims, but our current scholars have debated on what kind of poisons could have been used against a godling¡¯s normally resilient body. Some theorize that he used some sort of parasitic magic, but such techniques are unknown to our current body of knowledge. Curious, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Dundale asked, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the Pillar of Memory Nishada want to keep the accounts accurate, much less Saihara?¡±


    ¡°There is no Pillar of Truth,¡± she explained, recounting a rebuttal she herself had been taught while under the church¡¯s tutelage. ¡°Knowledge and Memory can contain truth, but emotion and storytelling spectacle are known to take over the Pillar Gods¡¯ accounts. After all, they were mortals like us once.¡±


    ¡°Such liars deserve worship?¡± the dwarf scoffed.


    Twindil bit her lip. ¡°Just because some stories are exaggerated, it does not change that they are powerful beings that make our life easier and fulfilled.¡±


    ¡°Start talking like that, Twindil, and you may find that the Long Lords have the same basis for worship that the Pillar Gods do.¡±


    She found herself unable to fully argue against that. The vampire lords seemed evil and self-interested, but some Pillars, especially Ankoriss, followed that same template. That didn¡¯t mean she would acknowledge the vampires as just rulers, but she took this contradiction in her logic as a sign she needed to solidify her reasoning in a better way in the future.


    Unable to be completely honest with a jailer, she instead asked, ¡°Do you not like the Pillar Gods, Dundale?¡±


    ¡°Seeing as one of them tried to wipe our very existence from the surface of Ahkoolis, I have a few gripes,¡± he admitted with a hint of sarcasm.


    ¡°And yet you still show interest and ask about them when you visit.¡±


    ¡°Mostly because a flock of fledgling deities fill our high security prisons.¡±


    ¡°No other reason?¡±


    Dundale made a harsh, scoffing grunt. ¡°Of course not. The Romai may have mages and magic users, but their usefulness pales to our Fanged Guard and the Long Lords.¡±


    Twindil relaxed and offered a small smile. His redoubled efforts to sound self-sufficient and uninterested were telling enough. Something inside the guard was at war, and she could only hope that her efforts could cultivate the side that would benefit her and her friends.


    ¡°Channeling Foundation doesn¡¯t give Oros any power or validation, you know.¡±


    His voice turned harsh, ¡°The Genocider is still given a throne next to useful gods, honored and worshipped. Hells, most all of the Pillars have committed atrocities. But since the common dwarf, man, elf, and whatever else survive, should they give tribute to the irresponsible higher powers?¡±


    ¡°And your Long Lords have never committed similar crimes?¡±


    It was his turn to pause and rethink his reasoning. If only there wasn¡¯t a prison door separating the two of them and the threat of death or worse, she could find herself enjoying these little debates with the dwarf.


    ¡°Unmarred hands and perfect decisions can¡¯t be the basis of who is deemed worthy of following,¡± Dundale said thoughtfully. ¡°In that case, what is?¡±


    ¡°Find an ideal to strive for,¡± she answered, ¡°and find someone with the same goals to group with. That¡¯s why I joined the order of Afina. She may be my deific mother, but the order strives for peace, evenhandedness, and cooperation, regardless of race. They accept and value me, despite my disgusting background.¡±


    ¡°Disgusting?¡±


    She fingered her slightly pointed ears. ¡°I¡¯m half Faekin.¡± She could just imagine Lance flinching at the slur, but Twindil had heard it all her life. ¡°That alone should have guaranteed that I never grew to adulthood. Yet, I¡¯m still here and able to make friends. I can exist, despite being a revolting crossbreed.¡±


    ¡°I was under the impression that crosses between elves and other races were fairly normal. At least two of your godling companions seem less than fully human.¡± His tone was calm and curious again.


    ¡°Not where I was born. Elum was always an outcast in our home and Alistair had the benefit of being a nomadic trader, but they didn¡¯t commit the crime of being elvish. The fact that I still have my ears unclipped is a miracle.¡± She inhaled deeply, then looked through the rectangle of light again, ¡°Forgive me, I shouldn¡¯t be bothering you with this. I¡¯ve accepted Afina¡¯s tranquility in everything. Do you wish to hear about other aspects of the Pillar Gods or Ahkoolis, Dundale?¡±


    She couldn¡¯t see his eyes through the gloom, but she knew that he was taking note of her words. He finally asked, ¡°If you were to ascend, what would be your Pillar?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good question,¡± she replied kindly. ¡°My efforts have been for protecting my friends and preserving, so I can only hope that those small actions can outweigh the bloodshed that has been forced upon my sword. Though, in all likelihood, I won¡¯t be the one to ascend. If you look at the track record of the Pillars, all but one is a direct child of the big three.¡±


    ¡°The Pillar God you speak of is Fikchon, correct?¡±


    ¡°For hating the Pillar Gods so much, you know many facts about them, Dundale,¡± she praised. ¡°Yes, Fikchon is the son of Nishada, who is the daughter of Zodd. Even Mazeek, the Unbound, is a son of Saihara. Chances favor Alistair or Kid¡¯ka to win this Godling War, if not any of the other hordes of still-living godlings that are slowly amassing their power.¡±


    ¡°The current number of godlings is still high?¡±


    Twindil hesitated. Parting with such information would not be wise. Even if she liked Dundale¡¯s company and conversations, he still spoke with powerful enemies. It was better for him and by extension this faction of evil to not know the godlings¡¯ current capabilities and how far along the war was. She attempted to lie, ¡°I am not certain. I was referring to my knowledge as it was before braving the Fiendwood. Many things may have changed during our travel time.¡±


    ¡°Which you still have not stated your reasoning for braving.¡±


    She followed that subject gratefully, ¡°If you let us out, then we can accomplish our goal and leave your realm in peace.¡±


    ¡°You expect me to believe that?¡± Dundale scoffed. ¡°Peace is no longer an option. Too much blood-¡± He suddenly stopped himself, then said firmly, ¡°I am truly sorry that you had no other route to follow than here, Twindil, but New Romai holds your fate now. You will not have to fear the madness of godhood overtaking you. The Long Lords have called for all Pillar-Born blood, though they are in no rush to drain you.¡±


    ¡°So, that is how it will all end, is it?¡±


    His words emerged slowly, ¡°It has been decreed¡­¡±


    ¡°Then why do you sound so sullen?¡± She forced a sad smile. ¡°Cheer up now, Dundale, your people will be safe soon from the godling scourge that invaded your home.¡±


    The dwarf¡¯s look sharpened through the slat, then he leaned back and closed it. The dank, small cell became a pitch-black hovel once again. Twindil ran her fingers around the edge of the little white plate while her mind was free to analyze every word that had been traded.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine: Elum鈥檚 Choice

    ¡°When will you end this foolishness?¡± Elum¡¯s wretched arm questioned, its ancient voice echoing through his mind. ¡°If freedom is what you desire, then I can provide it to you. The Silver Flame cannot be contained by these flimsy cuffs, all you need to do is submit.¡±


    Elum licked dry lips, the back of his head touching the cool stone wall of his cell. Ironically, the temperature was completely comfortable for him, owing to his race. The heat of his blood kept him warm against the frigid air of this cell, but the isolation was driving him near to madness. Especially when the only one he had to talk with was his cursed arm.


    ¡°Perhaps it will be today Elum, or perhaps tomorrow, but eventually these Romai are going to execute you. Not only that, but I guarantee you that your friends will be next, if they haven¡¯t been killed already. You could save them, Elum¡­ be the hero and accept my deal, I¡¯ll even save you from becoming mad, would that not be better?¡± The voice asked.


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Elum replied, hanging his head, ¡°I won¡¯t¡­¡±


    He said that, but as time passed, he found it difficult to imagine any other options. This ¡®Silver Flame¡¯ that the arm kept mentioning could apparently work despite his suppressor cuffs. A bit of magic and he¡¯d be out of here in no time. Would it be so bad to allow the arm more autonomy? His gut told him that it was a horrible idea, that it would lead to inevitable disaster, but his alternatives seemed far worse. Either he would rot away in this cell forever, at least until he went mad, or he would be killed.


    He clung onto the hope that somehow, someone would save them all. Be it Twindil, Hoplite, somebody, anybody; as long as it didn¡¯t have to be himself that did so. Three days had passed since their capture though, and so far no miracles had happened yet. If it came to it, blast it all, he¡¯d have to take the arm up on it¡¯s deal. How much longer should he wait, a day, two? Maybe just an hour. It depended on how the day went, he supposed.


    ¡°What even are you, who are you?¡± Elum asked, knowing the answer he¡¯d receive.


    ¡°The flesh of your world, long forgotten.¡± It replied in an icy tone, ¡°Reduced to this state by your cursed Pillar-Gods.¡±


    ¡°What exactly happened?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The Overseer¡¯s Eye was gouged, plucked clean and flooded with gore.¡±


    ¡°That doesn''t mean anything.¡± Elum said, frustrated, ¡°Do you even have a name?¡±


    ¡°You will know all soon enough, after you accept my offer.¡±


    ¡°Never,¡± he sneered. ¡°I won¡¯t make a deal with a monster like you.¡±


    ¡°I can tell that you¡¯re close to making the correct decision boy, perhaps it would be best to let you stew a while in despair.¡±


    ¡°Do that please,¡± Elum told it, glaring at his gray limb. ¡°I¡¯m sick of hearing your stupid voice.¡±


    Surprisingly, it complied, lapsing into silence¡­ right in time for the slot of his door to open. He spotted eyes peering in from the darkness and Elum sighed.


    ¡°You again,¡± Elum spat disdainfully. ¡°What is it now, Dunny?¡±


    ¡°You will not refer to me as such,¡± Dundale warned.


    ¡°Oh no, what are you going to do about it?¡± He rolled his head around his shoulders. ¡°Go away. Can¡¯t I have some peace and quiet around here?¡±


    The captor paused at the statement, then responded, ¡°I see that the hells are real, judging by your existence.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± he groaned.


    ¡°You have red skin and seem to have an irregularly high body temperature, seeing as you¡¯ve ignored the blanket gift and have yet to voice any discomfort to the purposeful chill. Adding into the fact that you speak with some unseen being, it is simply logical to assume you are a spawn of the demons.¡±


    This dwarf was getting annoying, but just annoying enough to correct. ¡°We¡¯re not demons, you ignorant fool!¡±


    ¡°Could have fooled me,¡± the snarky reply once again taunted him. ¡°Our records only stretch back to the end of the Sixth age, when we were deposed from the surface. Who¡¯s to say what interbreeding has occurred since the last few apocalypses.¡±


    ¡°Not with demons, I know that.¡±


    ¡°Your argument is very convincing.¡± Dundale stated sarcastically.


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Elum sighed and leaned against the cool stone wall.


    After another pause, the dwarf again tried to spark a conversation. ¡°Can your kind interbreed with humanity?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what Ifrits are. A cross between humans and some distant ancestor.¡±


    ¡°Is that ancestor a fire elemental?¡±


    ¡°Look, I know humans can get weird with other species sometimes, but not that weird.¡± Elum shook his head. ¡°At least, I don¡¯t think they would, or even could.¡±


    ¡°I fail to imagine any other life form that resembles your race¡¯s other half.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s this so important? Don¡¯t you have to shine your vampire overlord¡¯s boots or something?¡±


    The guard took another few moments to think over a reply. ¡°I understand that accepting your ancestry can be rather difficult.¡±


    Elum threw up his hands and then dragged them down his face. When would this torture end? A small chuckle sounded inside his mind as the gray mass seemed to find his pain amusing. ¡°If it¡¯ll make you shut up for five minutes, I¡¯ll tell you what I know.¡± He frowned as he delved into his memory. ¡°My mother always told me that our ancestors came from Faenor. They intermingled with a group of humans that survived the Sixth Godling War and Ifrits came from those unions.¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    A soft scoff sounded from beyond the door. ¡°I hope you have better knowledge of your race outside of a mythic legend of a place never proven to exist.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t like it? Fine. There are other theories that the Ifrits just mutated into being from the Fiery Lashes or the nearby Steamlands, but I know it¡¯s bull. That damn desert is a boiling hellscape, my kind prefer cold or temperate places. The Steamlands would kill us. No way that¡¯s where we¡¯re from.¡±


    The dwarf¡¯s voice rose with curiosity, ¡°The Fiery Lashes have withstood the test of time, but these Steamlands are new.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not much better than the Lashes. Every drop of moisture that condensates from the nearby ocean is evaporated into this choking, heated wall of mist that shapes the desert into mirage paradise. I¡¯ve heard stories of adventurers going there for treasure, but most of them end with the treasure-hunters coming back empty-handed and covered in burns, if they come back at all.¡±


    ¡°So you don¡¯t hail from there.¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Elum said curtly.


    ¡°Is your homeland more accommodating?¡±


    The godling rolled his eyes. ¡°In weather, sure.¡±


    ¡°Your fellow Pillar-Born have spoken the name of your home on occasion: Umant.¡±


    Elum glared into the stone wall and felt his jaw tighten. ¡°I¡¯m only going to say this, dwarf: if Umant was burning to the ground, my first reaction would be to roast a fresh meal over it.¡± Groaning and forcing himself to stand, he turned his back to the guard and said, ¡°That¡¯s all I got to say. I¡¯m going to take a leak now, so unless you want to study my gonads, you should move along.¡± He lied, waving his hand dismissively.


    However, right after he said that, he heard metal scraping stone from the tiny opening in his door.


    ¡°Wait, what¡¯s that?¡± Elum asked, ¡°Are you letting someone out?¡±


    ¡°It is none of your concern. Goodbye.¡± Dundale replied, shutting the eye slot.


    After it was closed, all noise from the hall was completely inaudible. Elum knew what he had heard though¡­ one of these big doors had opened up for some reason, but why? He chewed his lip as he thought, coming up with horrible scenarios involving his friends and their vampire captors. Were they taking them to be executed? Who was it that was leaving the hall?


    Elum grabbed his graying arm as his thoughts became a whirl of worry. He stood, eyes wide and jaw clenched as he approached the door. He then placed his hands against it, and reached for Foundation¡­ but as always, it wasn¡¯t there. His damn suppressor cuffs cut off the Golden Flame completely. If he could worm even just a smidge of magic through the cuffs, he might be able to melt through this damn door, but it was useless.


    He¡¯d already tried smashing his cuffs against the walls in an attempt to break them, but that had been fruitless as well. Either way, someone was being dragged off to gods-knew-where, but he had a feeling it wasn¡¯t good. He needed to think of something, fast.


    ¡°I can help you through that door Elum.¡± The voice told him, ¡°All I require is for you to give in.¡±


    Elum hesitated, ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Very well, perhaps after more of your friends are devoured, you will consider my offer¡­ or maybe you will wait until you are the last remaining?¡±


    Elum didn¡¯t reply, fists tightening.


    ¡°Think of it, to live forever, to not go mad¡­ to save your friends.¡± It told him.


    ¡°I can¡¯t. I won¡¯t.¡± He said, more to himself.


    ¡°You will never be able to leave this place otherwise, cast yourself either unto the vampires, or unto me. Those are the choices you have.¡±


    As much as Elum hated to admit it, the voice was telling the truth. He¡¯d been waiting for a miracle for these past few days, but nothing had happened, indeed, it seemed that nothing would happen. Hoplite was clearly dead, he¡¯d not be coming in to save the day, and if his friends had broken free, they would have saved him by now¡­ it was up to him, and him alone. He hung his horned head in defeat as he stared down at his graying arm. He weighed the options in his mind for a long while, several minutes passing before he finally came to a decision.


    ¡°I¡­ I accept.¡± Elum said with a wince, ¡°Get me out of here.¡±


    ¡°You see sense, finally.¡± It replied, ¡°I grant you the power of the Silver Flame, Elum, use it in all its glory, save yourself.¡±


    Elum screamed as the gray matter of his arm rapidly spread across his skin, turning it from a deep shade of crimson, to a dark gray, only stopping just at his shoulder and some parts of his neck. The agony nearly forced him to pass out as his arm began to enlarge, growing twice as thick before a line etched itself into his shoulder. After a few more seconds, to his horror, the line opened wide, revealing a massive crimson eye.


    Elum huffed, but didn¡¯t fall over, placing his hand against the door before reaching for the Golden Flame- it still wasn¡¯t there, but something else was, cold and lifeless¡­ another fire. The Silver Flame filled him, nearly freezing his skin to cracking, at least it felt like it was so. He attempted to build a House, but found that it was impossible. The Silver Flame had no houses, it needed no such things.


    Elum willed acid and it appeared, eating through the door in mere seconds before he stepped out into the hall, the Silver Flame filling him with immense power. Two dwarves that stood guard at the end of the decrepit hall aimed rifles at him, ordering him to fall to the ground¡­ but Elum merely waved his hand. Balls of acid fell down on top of their heads, eating through their helmets instantly. They fell down in a scrambling slag of flesh and metal. He hardly felt anything at seeing the multi-colored puddle they became, mind foggy as he waved his hand once more, conjuring acid to melt down every door in the hall.


    Alistair stepped over the melted slag, blinking in shock before he spotted Elum, ¡°You busted us out!?¡± He asked happily, ¡°Good work! Get these cuffs off me, Baomiel wants to get his hands on these squat freaks.¡±


    Elum stared for a moment before he waved his hand, the Silver Flame making short work of the lock on the suppressor cuffs. They fell to the ground uselessly, and Alistair grinned, conjuring forth Baomiel. At the same time Twindil emerged from her cell, looking confused.


    ¡°We¡¯re free? But how?¡± Twindil asked. ¡°Elum, was it you?¡±


    He nodded, thoughts still muddy as he also undid her cuffs.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked him, concerned.


    ¡°...I-¡±


    ¡°Evacuate and lay low, one of the prisoners has escaped. Fanged Guard en-route and on the hunt, have no fear.¡± A voice echoed through the hall, coming from one of those damn boxes.


    How did they find out so quickly? No matter, it was time to go. Elum didn¡¯t manage to finish his reply before Theopalu and Kid¡¯ka emerged, the latter shocked at the sudden freedom, while the former¡­ he simply stared at Elum. The elder elf¡¯s eyes were narrowed, suspicion clear in his gaze, and Elum didn¡¯t need a Dok¡¯ah to see that much. The old man suspected something was wrong. Seeing this, the eye of his arm shut tightly, though it was too late. Surely everyone had seen it by now.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get the others.¡± Elum said in a sleepy tone, ¡°Michael, Cat, and Lance. They haven¡¯t come out yet.¡±


    ¡°I suspect, because they are no longer here.¡± Theopalu told him, his gaze lingering on his arm, ¡°Probably moved, let¡¯s see if we can find them while we make our escape.¡±


    ¡°A fools errand.¡± His arm warned, ¡°We are in no condition to challenge the vampire lords, we will retreat back to the surface, all of us¡­ I will ensure that your vengeance is attained, Kazon will not stand a chance against us when we master the Silver Flame; of that I assure you.¡±


    Elum shook his head, ¡°We can¡¯t leave¡­ we have to find the others.¡± He said.


    His arm didn¡¯t answer, instead, Theopalu replied, ¡°We¡¯ll search the cells quickly, we have no more time. No doubt Fanged Guard are on their way- we don¡¯t want to be caught by their ilk, trust me.¡±


    Elum watched as Kid¡¯ka ran down the hall, checking rooms before he quickly came back, shaking his head. ¡°No one¡¯s in the side- inside.¡± He corrected, ¡°Moved.¡±


    Theopalu nodded, ¡°Then we must be off, be ready for the fight of your lives.¡± He told them, ¡°If we can¡¯t find the others, then don¡¯t bother looking. They¡¯re already dead. Best thing to do is move on and look out for ourselves.¡±


    ¡°I refuse to leave this wretched place without them. They¡¯ve been our companions-¡± Twindil began.


    Elum grit his teeth, ¡°Lance seemed more than willing to sell us out. Let her rot, I don¡¯t care.¡± He told her honestly, ¡°I¡¯m not risking my neck for her, for Hoplite, or for any of his Outworlder friends.¡± The arm approved of this reasoning, based on the warmth that travelled up his arm subsequently down his spine.


    ¡°Lance sold us out? How do you know that?¡± Twindil asked.


    How had he known? His arm offered no explanation, but he knew that somehow the being had funneled the information over. He shook his head and announced, ¡°We¡¯re going, now.¡±


    Elum then raised his hand, now noticing the blood trickling down his nose. He used the Silver Flame to pinpoint exactly where it was his and his companions gear was being held. Somehow, his arm knew exactly where to look. It and the Silver Flame were connected in some way.


    He snapped his fingers and their surroundings shifted in an instant. Before them lay a room filled with containers, a workshop by the looks of things. Various dwarves clad in oil-stained aprons and greasy goggles looked at them in shock, jaws trembling.


    How¡­ how had he gotten here again? His head ached as more blood flowed from his nostrils, nearly invisible against his skin. H-Hoplite had been in this very room before, his arm knew that¡­ it also knew that Elum, and likewise, his companions gear was in this very chamber. He had somehow managed to bring the others with him, everyone gasping in shock- save for the wretched elf Theopalu, who merely continued to stare at his arm.


    ¡°You will be my most powerful vessel yet, We will do good works, you and I. Soon I will have my body returned to me, and the Pillar-Gods will weep at my ascent!¡± It declared excitedly, ¡°Ahkoolis has returned!¡±

 Chapter Forty: Rebirth

    Theopalu stared hard at Elum as everyone gathered up their arms and armor. The dwarves that had been within the workshop all fled mere seconds after they¡¯d been teleported in here. He wasn¡¯t sure how Elum had done it, but he knew that arm had something to do with it. It had grown twice as large as his other arm; not only that, but there was an eyeball set into the shoulder. In all his time, he hadn¡¯t seen anything like it¡­ at least, that was what he told himself. Either that was a mutation from his Godling genetics, or it was something far worse.


    He considered killing the boy right there, but that would reveal his true nature. He was supposed to be an old elf, a mortal just like everyone else. He couldn¡¯t break character now, not when they had all broken free. He quickly found his cloak, hanging forgotten on a wall above some crates. Good, it was damn cold in that jail and the frost hadn¡¯t left his old bones yet. He¡¯d nearly considered breaking character to free himself- but that would only end one way, he never wanted to return to that life again. He¡¯d done it far too many times now.


    Theopalu, after re-equipping himself, promptly stole one of the rifles off the many surrounding tables. There were even full magazines nearby, not only that, it seemed to be a near-perfect copy of Hoplite¡¯s scoped rifle, scaled down to fit dwarven hands. He bit his lip, damn dwarves and their perfect memories, it was bad enough that they had guns to begin with, but now they had Outworlder weaponry to boot. Copies, yes, but dwarves memorized everything they saw perfectly, these were perfect replicas. He could only assume that they¡¯d also recreated the bullets as well, a nightmare for the surface dwellers, should the Romai return to conquer the world.


    He¡¯d not used Outworlder weapons before, but it wasn¡¯t the first time Theopalu had shot a gun, he was sure that it wouldn¡¯t be so different from his previous experience. He couldn¡¯t let the others know that he understood fully how to operate these, that would open up questions he didn¡¯t want asked of him. He¡¯d just lie and say that Michael had shown him how to properly use it at some point. If they asked him why, he¡¯d just say he was hungry or something; continue playing the fool as he had been.


    They couldn¡¯t find out what he really was, else he¡¯d be dragged back into his old life. He¡¯d been scared that the Long Lords would have recognized him, but thankfully that hadn¡¯t been the case. He may have had a different body when he¡¯d encountered them last time, but if they¡¯d caught a whiff of his blood that would have outed him immediately.


    ¡°You should all grab these guns too.¡± Theopalu yelled, ¡°Your armor won¡¯t protect you from bullets, we¡¯ll need to use walls and whatever else for cover.¡±


    ¡°I had a feeling.¡± Twindil sighed, her blonde hair ratty and disheveled, ¡°It is as simple as flicking the switch near the base, yes?¡± She asked as she swiped up a copy of Hoplite¡¯s shotgun.


    ¡°That¡¯s right-¡± Theopalu started before he saw that she was inspecting the barrel as it was pointed right at him, ¡°Point that away from me fool!¡± He screamed, ¡°You¡¯ll blow my head off!¡±


    Twindil blinked, quickly aiming the gun toward the floor, ¡°It should be fine as long as I don¡¯t pull that switch? My fingers weren¡¯t anywhere near it.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter, never put anyone before the barrel like that.¡± Theopalu sighed. ¡°At least not if they¡¯re a companion.¡±


    ¡°So do we load the bullets in through the front tube?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked with a frown.


    ¡°That is not how that is done, Michael showed me the proper way to do it.¡± Theopalu lied, ¡°There¡¯s a slot in the side where the shells are loaded in, and look here, that is the pump-¡±


    ¡°Mine doesn¡¯t have a pump.¡± Alistair noted, holding up another rifle copy, ¡°Nor a slot.¡±


    ¡°This one''s smallerist, should I get two?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked, holding the magnum in a way where it was pointed directly at his foot.


    ¡°Point it away from yourself boy!¡± Theopalu shouted sufferingly.


    Kid¡¯ka then brought the magnum to waist level, barrel pointed directly at Twindil.


    ¡°No!¡± He shouted, clutching his head in his hands, ¡°How many times do I need to tell you people!? Only aim at something you intend to destroy!¡±


    ¡°Oh I didn¡¯t mean-¡± Kid¡¯ka stammered, holding the gun toward the closed exit door, ¡°I¡¯ll pull the leveter- lever if any dwafs, dwar- dwarves come in.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d best. Elum, can you move us like that again?¡± Theopalu asked the Ifrit.


    The boy looked in a daze, pinching his nose to stop the torrent of blood seeping from it. He sat with his back against a wall, gray arm limp, ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± He said, ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°It might be our only way out of this place, I can only assume that the Romai are on their way to apprehend or kill us, if you can do it, get us to our wagon.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± He muttered, his eyes fluttering, ¡°It hurts.¡±


    ¡°I know, but we don¡¯t have a lot of options here.¡± Theopalu told him, aiming his rifle at the door.


    They¡¯d dawdled enough here as it is, he was certain a team of dwarves were outside right now, waiting to storm the workshop with a few Fanged Guard at the helm. Hell, the Long Lords themselves might find this escape important enough that they¡¯d show up themselves to stop it. Theopalu couldn¡¯t continue to conceal himself after that¡­


    ¡°I see everything.¡± Elum muttered, ¡°All of it¡­ five outside now, one is a vampire, more vampires coming¡­ Hoplite and Lance are in a cave¡­ Michael and Cat are near the Long Lords¡­ the wagon is empty¡­¡±


    Theopalu frowned, ¡°In caves? That¡¯s great, send us there!¡±


    Elum paused, ¡°Nolvi too¡­¡±


    The other Pillar-Born¡¯s heads whipped toward the Ifrit, ¡°Take us there!¡± Twindil shouted, ¡°If you can, then please!¡±


    ¡°Too dangerous.¡± Elum shook his head slowly, ¡°She is there too, will kill us¡­ kill us¡­¡± He continued to mutter, ¡°He won¡¯t let me.¡±


    ¡°He? She?¡± Alistair asked, ¡°What the hells are you talking about?¡±


    Elum didn¡¯t reply, ¡°One more time, can¡¯t go to them¡­ we can go to the surface but I-¡± He gulped, ¡°I need time or we¡¯ll die. Need a few minutes¡­¡± He whispered weakly, his eyes closing before he braced his hands on his knees.


    Theopalu drew his lips to a line. A few minutes was too long a time, could they really hold out for that long? If he revealed his true nature it was more than possible, but to do that would be too much. He couldn¡¯t return to what he used to do. It hurt too much; to see Pillar-Born die age after age, suffering from their divinity... Why did these people have to hire him on his vacation? Why did they have to be Pillar-Born? How did Godlings always seem to find him, no matter what he was doing?


    He grit his teeth, ¡°You heard him, bring some of these tables over here, flip them over, and aim your guns at that door. I¡¯ll show you how to reload them- again Michael showed me.¡± He clarified quickly, ¡°We just need to hold out until Elum¡¯s ready.¡±


    ¡°Very well, let¡¯s gather up those bullet-holders and bring them by us.¡± Twindil said, pointing to the nearby tables.


    ¡°They¡¯re called magazines, and be quick!¡± Theopalu urged, we don¡¯t have much time left before-¡±


    The door exploded outward on its hinges, allowing hot steam of all things to flow into the chamber. Theopalu squinted, seeing the silhouette of a dwarf standing there in the thick steam. He could hear a mechanical whirring coming from the squat figure as he charged into the chamber, leveling what Theopalu could only assume was a rifle. With practiced hands, he raised his gun, sighting the center mass of the dwarf before opening fire.


    The bullet made contact right as the dwarf emerged fully from the steam, clad head to toe in thick plate armor. It pinged off the suit, leaving a sizable dent but not penetrating completely. The four limbs of the suit were being supported by what appeared to be- by the Pillars, those were actuators! He hadn¡¯t seen anything like it since the Second Age, those were exoskeletons! Steam emerged from a small vent from the back of the armor, no doubt powering the plate mail the dwarf wore.


    They¡¯d made crude power armor.


    ¡°Shoot now!¡± Theopalu shouted as the dwarf returned fire, a dozen more of them appearing from the steam.


    The bullet passed right by where his head had been, barely missing as he ducked his head out of its path. They moved in quickly, overturning the heavy tables with ease before peaking out to return fire. He cursed, ducking down while keeping his eyes open for any grenades. Just as he had the thought, one landed right between he and Twindil.


    The Pillar-Gods had blessed her with quick-thinking, as she immediately swiped up the weapon before throwing it back over the table. He heard dwarves screaming in confusion before an explosion ripped through the workshop, sending his ears into a painful ringing. He ignored the agony, taking advantage of the confusion to return fire, peeking back over to land a shot right on a dwarven skull. Again only a dent appeared in the metal, with the bullet ricocheting off wildly, but the force of the projectile still knocked the armored dwarf unconscious.


    However, only his head hung, the armor still kept the rest of his body aloft, slightly vibrating from the suits power-source. If only they could get clear shots on their backs, they might be able to disable the suits with just one shot. However, there was no room to flank them, someone would need to run into no-mans-land and flip over another table. That wasn¡¯t going to happen, they were outnumbered and outgunned. However, there was one advantage that they had over the dwarves¡­


    His companions were Pillar-Born.


    Alistair roared, his voice matching that of a new, dual-layered voice coming from behind the dwarves. Baomiel had arrived. Theopalu raised his head as the dwarves turned to fire on the angel, shooting at their flanks. He disabled a few dwarves by hitting their steam-backpacks, further flooding the room with hot, hissing steam. Baomiel layed about himself with his massive lower arms, sending the dwarves flying with every blow. The angel did not escape unscathed however. Dozens of holes perforated the creature, bright golden blood flowing freely from the wounds. The upper half of Baomiel grimaced, but still fought, stabbing into the crowd of dwarves with a spear composed of white light.


    Twindil, Kid¡¯ka, and Alistair all opened fire as well, but with how untrained they were, only a handful of their shots hit the enemy. Those few connections though were quite effective, Twindil¡¯s shotgun was powerful enough to tear through the armor, outright killing her targets. She seemed to take no joy in it however, but could she be blamed? They could all enjoy this brief stint of revenge after they had made it to safety.


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    He spared a glance at Elum, who was rocking back and forth, knees pulled to his chest as he began muttering incoherently to himself. Whatever it was that he was doing, Theopalu hoped that he¡¯d be done soon. His attention was ripped away from the Ifrit when he heard Baomiel let out a cry of agony. The Fanged Guard had arrived, red eyes glowing through the steam. There were five of them, ripping Baomiel to pieces with their bare hands, clad in intricate crimson plate armor.


    Thankfully most of the other dwarves had been killed or disabled, but a few still sat behind cover, taking shots at their group periodically to keep them pinned. Alistair cursed before clenching his fist before him, a ball of Golden Flame appearing above it. He clenched his teeth before punching the air, sending the ball hurtling toward Baomiel and the vampires assailing him. He then guided the ball of fire, aiming it with his hand until it neared the head of one of the Fanged Guards- then he clenched that fist.


    The fire exploded, dozens of little motes seeking the five vampires. They all scrambled away from the angel, whose body was torn, bloody, falling apart in gold gory pieces. Alistair cursed again as the Fanged Guard deftly avoided the motes with supernatural speed, but though the attack did no damage to the vampires, he was still able to recall Baomiel, the angel disappearing in a burst of Golden Flame.


    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to bring him back again for a while.¡± Alistair huffed, ducking back behind cover, ¡°But that at least bought us some time.¡±


    ¡°How much longer Elum!?¡± Kid¡¯ka asked, unloading his magnum wildly at the vampires.


    These Fanged Guard must have been alive for over two-hundred years at least, for they were able to dodge the bullets coming their way. Granted, they were bullets being fired from an inexperienced hand, but it was still no small feat. Theopalu pinged a shot off another armored dwarfs head, again denting the helmet and knocking the Romai unconscious. He saw a bullet coming his way, forcing him to duck his head to the left to avoid it. Hopefully his companions would chalk that timing up to luck, nothing else.


    ¡°Elum!?¡± Twindil asked, her back against the table, ¡°How soon?¡±


    ¡°Not much.¡± Elum said sleepily, ¡°Just a bit more¡­¡±


    ¡°Well ¡®bit more¡¯ faster!¡± Alistair snarled right as another grenade landed among them.


    Kid¡¯ka this time, he grabbed it in his free hand, hurling it over his head without looking to see where it landed. Based on the resulting scream coming from the Romai side, the grenade had produced results. Alistair took a deep breath before he raised his hand, a bright golden light beginning to glow from over their table.


    ¡°Brought up a Foundation wall.¡± Alistair huffed, ¡°It¡¯s not as dangerous to them as to the Fiends, but it¡¯ll slow them down.¡±


    ¡°Good, we need more delays, Twindil, is there anything you can do to add to that?¡± Theopalu asked, reloading his rifle in one smooth motion.


    She paused, ¡°I can try and overwhelm them all with Afina¡¯s peace, but expending that much power could singe me, depending on their wills¡­ but it must be done.¡± She then clapped her hands together, ¡°Afina, please bring your peace unto my enemies, that we might all be tranquil together-¡± She grimaced, ¡°One of them is countering me with the House of Kyria.¡±


    ¡°No doubt it¡¯s one of the vampires.¡± Theopalu said, ¡°Be ready, if the need arises then you may need to engage them in close quarters.¡±


    Kid¡¯ka paused, eyes narrowing as he stared at his magnum.


    ¡°An Act of Arrogance¡­¡± Kid¡¯ka whispered to himself before laying the weapon down.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± Theopalu asked, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.


    Damn him, the boy had already made his decision. Power only Theopalu could sense radiated out from Kid¡¯ka as he stood, uncaring of the gunfire coming his way. This invisible force subtly redirected the trajectory of the bullets, appearing as if they had merely missed to those without Theopalu¡¯s heightened senses. Kid¡¯ka drew his short swords then, pointing them toward the Fanged guard, his features hard.


    ¡°I am the Son of Zodd! I challenge you to Tomah!¡± He shouted before leaping over the table.


    ¡°Kid¡¯ka don¡¯t!¡± Twindil shouted, attempting to raise her head over the table.


    Theopalu struggled to force her back down, his own head peeking out dangerously over the table as he was nearly forced to stand with her. She had gotten too strong already, he had needed to tap into his true power to keep her down.


    ¡°He¡¯s made his choice, this Act of Arrogance will empower him-¡± He stopped.


    Twindil stared, ¡°How do you know about that?¡±


    Theopalu didn¡¯t answer, instead looking back over the table to see Kid¡¯ka advancing quickly toward the Fanged Guard. A large wall of raw Foundation had erected itself before the dwarves, but the Fanged Guard had managed to pass through unscathed. Only two mortal dwarves remained on this side of the flame-wall, aiming their guns right at Kid¡¯ka as he approached, dual blades held in a reversed grip. He took aim at them, but he wasn¡¯t fast enough. The two dwarves fired their rifles- but Kid¡¯ka, with casual ease, dashed out of their path. Theopalu¡¯s eyes widened, was this Act of Arrogance so potent that it already propelled him to that level?


    He returned fire on the two dwarves, knocking them both unconscious with well placed shots to the helmet. Now it was just them, the Fanged Guard, and the Foundation wall flooding the doorway. Kid¡¯ka sped toward all five vampires, blades drawn as his red cape billowed behind him. Alistair and Twindil followed suit, diving over the tables with guns in hand. Theopalu took aim at the monsters, waiting for his opportunity to fire.


    Just one bullet to the head wouldn¡¯t kill them, but they still had to regenerate the damage to the brain in order to function. He¡¯d need to wait until he had a clear shot, else he may hit Kid¡¯ka or the others. The Pillar-Born met the vampires head-on, the combatants all becoming a blur as they fought at speeds exceeding mortal limits.


    To Theopalu¡¯s eyes however, he could see the fight clearly. Kid¡¯ka met the three vampires in the middle, leaping up before attempting to kick one in the head. The blow was deftly avoided by the vampire, who backpedaled before it could connect. Kid¡¯ka landed gracefully, ducking to avoid a powerful punch by another Fanged Guard as the second went in to tackle him. Kid¡¯ka circled the charge before bringing his blade down toward the vampire¡¯s neck. The first one that he¡¯d tried to kick intervened at the last instant, catching the blade between his finger and thumb before it could connect.


    Kid¡¯ka headbutted the Fanged Guard holding his blade, the blow caving the creatures skull inward with a sickening crack. As all this happened, Twindil and Alistair collided with two Fanged Guards. Twindil brought up the shotgun, aiming it straight at her opponent and opening fire. The vampire dodged with a curse, some of the shot puncturing his breastplate. Black blood seeped from the wound, but that didn¡¯t seem to slow the Fanged Guard much, for it lunged forward, fangs bared to bite.


    Now.


    Theopalu pulled the trigger, aiming for where the vampire would be¡­ and the shot connected, blasting a bloody hole through the temple. Twindil dodged backward as the thing collapsed before her, twitching as the hole struggled to seal itself. No doubt seeing this, Twindil brought her armored boot down upon the skull, crushing it flat in one clean stomp.


    Alistair¡¯s foe wasn¡¯t making things easy for the son of Draoi, keeping the Pillar-Born on the defensive with a flurry of powerful blows. Alistair was forced back from the vampire''s barrage. Theopalu saw a ball of Golden Flame appear on his back, rapidly expanding out to cover him completely. Foundation Armor? He¡¯d not seen someone use that spell in millenia, did Alistair do that by instinct?


    Now wrapped in Golden Fire, the vampire took a step back, clearly hesitating. Alistair approached with his hammer, the Flame now engulfing the head, giving the surrounding steam a golden glow. The Fanged Guard answered in kind, a purple energy now engulfing his clawed hands. Alistair swung his hammer with both hands at the same time his opponent slashed with an open palm, looking to rip the Pillar-Born¡¯s throat out with one smooth motion.


    The hammer proved to be mightier than the claw, for the warhammer smashed into the wrist, snapping it easily before Alistair brought up the flat of his weapon. The impact knocked the vampire skyward before it landed on its back, scrambling away as Alistair went on the offensive.


    Looking back to Kid¡¯ka, the Tongue of Zodd was in between a flurry of blurring fists and claws, darting this way and that to avoid being struck. He lashed out with his blades, but unfortunately they didn¡¯t seem sturdy enough to slice through the creature¡¯s armor, bouncing off ineffectually. Seeing this, he dropped the blades, right before landing a spinning back kick on the one behind him. The blow dented the breastplate, black blood flying from the Fanged Guard¡¯s mouth as it flew in Theopalu¡¯s direction.


    It skidded across the ground, metal grinding on concrete sending sparks flying before if finally came to a stop near Twindil.  He quickly shot it in the head before it could rise, Twindil following up with her blade to completely decapitate it before she rounded on the one facing Alistair, moving in to help him finish it off. Kid¡¯ka then lashed out with his own fists, countering with his own hand-to-hand capabilities. He was better than he thought he¡¯d be, but it was still two on one. If just one of them scored a hit on him, that would be the end of the fight.


    The tempo of the battle shifted into something more frantic as the remaining combatants grew more frenzied. It was getting harder for Theopalu to get a clear shot on anyone, not with his companions being so close to their opponents.


    ¡°How much longer boy!?¡± Theopalu yelled to Elum.


    ¡°Soon.¡± He replied simply, ¡°Almost done.¡±


    He heard Kid¡¯ka curse as one of his foe¡¯s grabbed his cape, pulling him backward onto the ground with it wrapped about his neck. Theopalu took aim again as the other vampire went to hop on top of Kid¡¯ka, but the Pillar-Born ripped the cape off before that could be done, freeing himself from the strangulation. He rolled away quickly, but the two Fanged Guard followed after him, attempting to stomp him as he went.


    In contrast Alistair and Twindil both had their vampire on the backfoot, the monster doing everything in its power to avoid Alistair¡¯s hammer as well as Twindil¡¯s blade. Alistair then quickly formed a Foundation ball in his hand before throwing it right at the vampire''s head, who avoided it with ease. However, it appeared it was never Alistair¡¯s goal to make direct contact. As he had done earlier, Alistair snapped his fingers, the ball bursting into a dozen miniature motes of fire. These mini-fireballs then sped toward the Fanged Guard, who was forced to dodge straight into them as Twindil swung for its head.


    As the motes made contact, they spread across the vampire¡¯s frame, covering it from head to toe much as Alistair himself was. The blonde huffed, clearly near to singeing himself, even if Theopalu couldn¡¯t sense it. He snapped his fingers again, the Golden Flame seeming to solidify around the vampire¡¯s body, entrapping it in a crust of gold. Alistair fell to one knee, his Foundation Armor vanishing as he did so.


    Already the golden crust was beginning to crack, but Twindil didn¡¯t allow the vampire his freedom, rearing back her blade before cleaving the statue in half at the waist. Black blood fountained from the two halves as the top fell to the stone, Theopalu firing off another shot into its skull. Good, that was three incapacitated, only two vampires remained, battling furiously with Kid¡¯ka.


    The boy fought well, slapping away wrists or darting away from lunging bites, but he wasn¡¯t prepared for the Fanged Guards other tricks. One darted back, a purpled light appearing in his hand before it elongated, coming to resemble a whip. Distracted by the vampire in contact with him, Kid¡¯ka couldn¡¯t react to it in time. The light whip wrapped around the Pillar-Born¡¯s ankle before his foe tugged, sending Kid¡¯ka crashing to the floor face up.


    Seeing this opportunity, the other vampire lunged forth, fingers together to form a hand-spear. Theopalu fired, but the shot was intercepted by the light whip restraining Kid¡¯ka, flicked up by the wielder. The bullet bounced off, ricochet off the ceiling, before puncturing the back of one of the unconscious dwarves. The dwarf¡¯s armor then exploded violently, sending his ears into ringing agony. As this all happened¡­ The vampire that had lunged for Kid¡¯ka made contact, driving his hand straight through the Pillar-Born¡¯s chest.


    ¡°No!¡± Twindil shouted, darting forward with reckless abandon.


    Alistair attempted to rise as well, but found his efforts fruitless as his legs buckled under him. Theopalu took aim at the vampire over Kid¡¯ka, but the creature ducked his head away from the bullet right as its companion swung its light whip at Twindil, keeping her at bay. Kid¡¯ka coughed up a fountain¡¯s worth of blood as the Fanged Guard withdrew bloodied fingers, a look of satisfaction on its wrinkled features.


    However, Kid¡¯ka caught the things wrist, a look of hard fury coming over the young man, ¡°Do you think,¡± He huffed, ¡°That¡¯s enough to kill a son of Zodd!?¡± He shouted, driving his own hand straight through the vampire¡¯s breastplate.


    A look of shock came over the creature then, it¡¯s victorious air fading quickly as Kid¡¯ka sat up, blood still fountaining from the gaping wound in his chest. With his free arm, the Pillar-Born quickly wrapped it around the waist of the vampire before jerking his embedded limb upward. Kid¡¯ka¡¯s arm carved through flesh and metal as if they were air, exiting at the Fanged Guard¡¯s shoulder, covered in black ooze. The two sides of the torso hung in opposite directions, the vampire¡¯s eyes bulging before Kid¡¯ka¡¯s fist made contact with its forehead.


    The skull cracked inward like an eggshell, the crimson eyeballs popping straight out as the vampire was sent flying toward the far wall. Kid¡¯ka roared as he stood to his feet, red smoke beginning to emerge from the hole in his chest as it sizzled shut. One of the blessings of Zodd manifest, would he have the Steel Flesh as well?


    Kid¡¯ka dug his foot into the concrete to brace himself, the floor spider webbing where it made contact. Then he darted toward the last remaining vampire, still busy holding off Twindil with his light whip. Pillar-Born met vampire as Kid¡¯ka tackled it to the ground with a snarl, pinning it beneath him as he brought a flurry of fists down onto its face. Blood stuck to his leather gloves, pulling black strings back with every blow. Even after the head was completely gone, Kid¡¯ka did not stop, pounding the concrete beneath the body with a wrathful scream. The backs of his gloves were torn away, tearing the skin of his knuckles clean off as the leather was destroyed. The skin of his hands sizzled with red smoke as it repaired itself, sealing over the bare bones beneath.


    ¡°Kid¡¯ka stop!¡± Twindil cried, sheathing her sword as she ran to him, ¡°You¡¯ve won, it¡¯s over!¡±


    Kid¡¯ka didn¡¯t appear to hear her, as he only continued his barrage. She seized his arms, but she barely managed to slow him down.


    ¡°Let go!¡± Kid¡¯ka shouted, ¡°It¡¯s not done yet!¡±


    ¡°Be in Afina¡¯s peace.¡± She told him softly.


    After a few seconds, Kid¡¯ka froze, blinking the fury from his eyes as clarity returned. Twindil released him, huffing and puffing as she helped him stand to his feet. Even Theopalu himself felt the effects of Afina¡¯s peace, wanting nothing more than to lay his weapon down and take a nap. He shook his head, shielding his mind with the House of Kyria as a counter. Nap time would have to come after they got out of here.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± Elum nodded slowly.


    Theopalu let out a sigh of relief, time to get the hell out of here-


    The thought was cut off when he noticed the Foundation wall dissipating¡­ standing right behind it, one of the Long Lord¡¯s themselves.


    ¡°Now!¡± Theopalu screamed, ¡°Do it now!¡±


    ¡°Too strong already.¡± Telegad shook his head, ¡°Look at what you creatures have done to these purest of dwarves¡­ I will wreak great vengeance upon you, it was a mistake to leave you alive for as long as we did, an error I will correct personally.¡± He finished, raising his fingers as he floated into the workshop.


    Silver flame then engulfed Elum, who let out a blood-curdling cry. Tendrils of this fire shot out, wrapping around Alistair, Twindil, Kid¡¯ka, and Theopalu-


    A thin beam of dark red light shot out from Telegad¡¯s fingers, speeding straight toward Theopalu. His eyes widened in shock, the Strength Seeker!? He had no more time to think as the flame and beam both made contact at the same time. A hole burnt its way through his skull, drilling through his brain before the Silver Flame tore him away from the underground.


    His lifeless body collapsed on stone as their surroundings shifted, the open sky stretching out in all directions before them. Blood seeped out from the burnt hole in his head, pooling around his twitching corpse. New Romai had been left behind, a vast dead spiralling forest in its place.


    ¡°We¡¯re out!¡± Alistair shouted, ecstatic before he sighted Theopalu¡¯s corpse.


    ¡°By the Pillars¡­¡± Twindil whispered to herself, clamping hands over her mouth.


    Kid¡¯ka just stared, clearly shocked while Elum was simply unconscious, laying flat on his back, barely breathing.


    Theopalu himself inwardly groaned. His brain was too destroyed to summon up Foundation to heal¡­ leaving him with only one option. He was going to be voracious after this, but it was his only option if he wanted to live. Unfortunately, this would leave him in a vulnerable position¡­ questions would arrive and he wasn¡¯t sure how long he¡¯d be able to deflect them.


    Oh well. Theopalu¡¯s corpse then began to twitch violently, every limb shaking so furiously that his body bounced off the corrupted soil of the Fiendwood, almost as if it were levitating. Twindil¡¯s eyes widened as Theopalu¡¯s torso began to tear open at the center, a geyser of blood sprouting up from the body as it continued to thrash. Alistair leaned back on his palms, jaw dropping as Theopalu crawled out of his old body, his wrinkles gone, hair long and dark, albeit matted down by blood.


    He sighed as he stood over his old corpse, naked as the day he was born.

 Chapter Forty-One: The Cold Caves

    ¡±...Hoplite, I¡¯m not a marine.¡± Lance told him insistently, ¡°Listen to my words, look at me, my ears. I¡¯m an elf.¡±


    ¡°Just a minor mutation soldier.¡± Hoplite replied, ¡°If you keep speaking like that, I may have to report you for a medical examination. After our mission here is concluded, of course.¡±


    Lance sighed, shaking her head as she drew her knees to her chest. It was freezing down here in this strange spiraling cavern¡­ If she only had her cloak she¡¯d not be shaking like a leaf. Hoplite¡¯s base was situated right next to a massive steel door with the symbol of a spiral etched into its surface. She felt horribly uneasy looking at it, imagining great horrors hiding just behind it. Hoplite seemed unconcerned with it, having stated that this was his ¡®base¡¯.


    Well, Lance wasn¡¯t going to play into his delusions. She wasn¡¯t sure what happened to him, but going along with Hoplite might only drive him deeper into this madness. What had caused this? Had the vampires done something to his mind? If so, how was it possible that he had escaped? It wasn¡¯t likely, the Phalanx suit was right by the door, in pieces beside his weaponry. He¡¯d managed to break out of wherever he¡¯d been, so whatever caused this mental snap must have happened in this cave. Did the door, or whatever lay beyond it, be the cause for his state?


    She struggled to think of anything else, unless he¡¯d done it on his own. The last time he¡¯d had a mental break was back on the Fiendbridge,  after his encounter with the Dragon of The East, Legolanthas. The Dragon had claimed that Hoplite bore the blood of a Dragon, and if that were true¡­ based on what she knew about him, that would shatter him if he found out it were real. The fact that he could now use Foundation was proof enough that he at the very least bore the blood of Zodd.


    She peeked up at him, seeing that he was busying himself with disassembling his shotgun before quickly reassembling it. What was unsettling wasn¡¯t just the constant repetition of this, but the fact that Hoplite was humming a tune. It was gentle, barely audible, but it was definitely there. His once bald head, now topped with white fuzz, bobbed nigh imperceptibly with the tune.


    ¡°...What¡¯s that song?¡± Lance asked after a moment.


    Hoplite froze, turning to look at her with a furrowed brow, ¡°What song?¡±


    ¡°You were humming to yourself.¡± Lance told him, hands clutching her elbows as she remembered what he¡¯d done to Michael last time he¡¯d gone mad.


    Hoplite blinked before his gaze became distant, his emotions shifting to a sort of¡­ longing. She shivered as she stood, slowly so as to not startle Hoplite, before approaching him, one step at a time until she was just a few paces from where he sat. That distant stare didn¡¯t change, he was off in his own little world at the moment.


    ¡°Hoplite?¡± She asked him.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± He asked, blinking, ¡°Sorry private, just thinking about the mission.¡±


    Shame filled his eyes then, as well as regret. The mania returned as he resumed his work on his constant disassembly. Why was he doing that? This had to be the twelfth time in a row he¡¯d rebuilt his weapon. Did it perhaps bring him a sort of comfort? She¡¯d seen dozens of people do similarly repetitive actions, particularly those who were in stressful situations. Could this constant re-assembly be that?


    ¡°So, what is your mission, exactly?¡± Lance asked, crossing her arms over one another as she shivered.


    ¡°Rendezvous with the rest of our squad before withdrawing from the battlefield. We¡¯ll need reinforcements if we want to remove the Final Kind forces here, so we¡¯ll get in contact with command after we escape.¡± Hoplite told her simply as his hands worked on the gun, not breaking eye contact as he did so.


    ¡°Alright, I agree that is what we should do, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be able to get in contact with your command.¡± She told him cautiously.


    She needed to keep a read on his emotional state so she¡¯d know if she needed to run or not. Confusion filled his eyes then.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± He asked, ¡°Private, The Sparrow is up in orbit over this planet. We just need to radio in once we reach the surface.¡±


    ¡°But when you got here, Hoplite, you told me that everyone onboard had evacuated.¡± Lance reasoned, ¡°The Ternans are all down here on our world at the moment, not in the Sparrow.¡±


    Hoplite shook his head, ¡°No they aren¡¯t, otherwise we¡¯d have more troops with us right now. They sent me and three privates down here to scout the surface, you being one of them. The Final Kind captured the other two.¡±


    Lance took a deep breath, ¡°Hoplite, how did we meet?¡±


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    He froze, golden eyes going wide as uncertainty filled them, ¡°I- you-¡± He shut his eyes as he thought, ¡°You¡¯re from the-¡±


    ¡°The?¡± She asked, drawing out the word.


    ¡°I found you stranded in the woods, private.¡± He nodded, seemingly to himself, ¡°We got surrounded by the victims of a new Final Kind bioweapon.¡±


    She shook her head, ¡°The Fiends, Hoplite.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the designation given by command.¡± He nodded, ¡°You need to get back on track soldier, we¡¯re in enemy territory.¡±


    She drew her lips to a line, ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    He didn¡¯t reply, instead re-assembling his shotgun before standing, approaching the steel door before pushing it open. Lance followed behind, peeking in to see a shriveled corpse in the center of a large chamber. What in the hells?


    ¡°Sir, I¡¯ve retrieved private Lance from captivity.¡± Hoplite told the body, straightening his back.


    ¡°Damn you boy, I¡¯ve told you already I¡¯m not a part of your military.¡± A raspy old voice complained, seeming to come from the body, ¡°Do you even know who I am? I am Lithia, the Spiral Queen!¡±


    Lance took an involuntary step back as she saw the things lids opened, revealing purple spiralling eyes. By the Pillars, could this be the real Lithia of legend!? Before she could process things further, she noted another figure standing toward the back of the room¡­ It was no other than Nolvi!


    They met one another''s gaze, Nolvi¡¯s eyes matching the Spiral Queen¡¯s exactly. Lance read apprehension in the young woman¡¯s gaze, but that was nothing compared to what she herself felt. Nolvi was a Spiral Queen too? Not only that, it was more than likely that she was also a Pillar-Born, like Twindil and the others. This is where she disappeared to; was she summoned by Lithia to this place? She took another step back at seeing her, primal fear bringing her legs to shaking. A Pillar-Born Spiral Queen, a nightmare given human form.


    ¡°I need new tech sir.¡± Hoplite told Lithia flatly.


    ¡°Well come in then. Sit over there.¡± Lithia complained. Surprisingly, Hoplite complied with the order, moving to sit before the steel throne. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ I will teach you how to feed yourself with the Golden Flame-¡±


    ¡°Grandmother, you¡¯ve already taught him that.¡± Nolvi spoke up, looking away from Lance, ¡°As well as the invisibility.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ right, he¡¯s such a quick learner, strong arms too.¡± Lithia mused happily, ¡°If only I were a younger woman.¡±


    Nolvi¡¯s face twisted up in obvious disgust, but Hoplite didn¡¯t seem to care, ¡°I need to maneuver quietly through the enemy base.¡±


    ¡°Sound Suppression is from the House of Dandenlona, build that House then focus on the air around your body, use Foundation to push the air away from you.¡± Lithia instructed, suddenly sounding very coherent, ¡°This will create a vacuum around yourself, make sure to keep a thin layer of air on your skin so your eyeballs don¡¯t fall out. You won¡¯t be completely quiet but you¡¯ll be basically impossible to hear to mortal ears.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied before lapsing into silence.


    Nolvi locked eyes with Lance again, her gaze now showing concern, ¡°Lance, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re safe.¡±


    Lance struggled to form words, ¡°What- What happened to you?¡±


    She sighed, ¡°Visiting my Grandmother, so to speak. Listen, you may fear me now, but please hear me. I¡¯m sure you realized by now, but Hoplite isn¡¯t doing well.¡±


    Lance nodded, her gaze shifting to the man¡¯s scarred back.


    ¡°Please come in, what I tell you should be kept silent, else Grandmother will have to restrain him again.¡± Nolvi urged, waving for Lance to enter.


    Her legs refused to move any closer to the monsters inhabiting the chamber.


    ¡°Damn elves.¡± Lithia muttered, ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid, I don¡¯t bite.¡±


    ¡°Grandmother, you don¡¯t have teeth.¡± Nolvi replied, wringing her hands nervously.


    ¡°It¡¯s a saying you dolt.¡± Lithia shot back, indignant, ¡°If she will not come in here, you go out there.¡± Lithia ordered.


    ¡°Yes Grandmother¡­¡± Nolvi said meekly, moving past Hoplite.


    Lance gasped, taking a dozen steps back away from the girl until her back was pressed up against the stone wall of the cave.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you.¡± Nolvi assured, ¡°Please don¡¯t act this way.¡±


    ¡°Are you Pillar-Born?¡± Lance let out quickly.


    Nolvi¡¯s eyes conveyed shock once again, ¡°I suppose¡­ well, I suppose you must have found out. Yes, I am the daughter of Dandenlona. I¡¯m sorry but let¡¯s not speak of that now, we need to focus on Hoplite.¡±


    Her skin went cold, her back pressing firmly against the cold stone. She could try and kill the godling quickly with her chains, lop off her head with the blades before she could attack- No, no that wasn¡¯t an option. Nolvi was a Spiral Queen, just a glance would be enough to kill Lance, especially now that her eyes had evolved.


    ¡°Back on the Fiendbridge,¡± Nolvi began, speaking quickly, ¡°you were able to bring him back from the precipice of madness. I think that right now, he needs you, more than ever.¡± She sighed, ¡°He discovered something about himself that Grandmother believes he wants to keep hidden, a truth too painful for him to acknowledge.¡±


    ¡°...What happened?¡± Lance asked, concern and curiosity momentarily overriding her fear.


    ¡°He bears the blood of a Dragon, it¡¯s beyond any doubts now Lance, Legolanthas was speaking the truth. Hoplite trying to use Foundation was initially just a way to prove he was fully Outworlder¡­ Once he found out he was able to use magic, it broke him. He¡¯s been like this ever since.¡± She finished, gently shaking her head, ¡°Grandmother and I have tried to tell him the truth of things, but he either doesn¡¯t listen or he becomes irate; he¡¯s even tried to attack Grandmother once, though that didn¡¯t end well for him.¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to help him?¡± Lance asked, ¡°Things were different back on the bridge, that had been a temporary madness that had come over him¡­ if I tell him the truth, he may want to kill me, I won¡¯t be able to stop him if he tries to do that.¡±


    ¡°Grandmother and I will offer you our protection, just do whatever feels right, but please bring him back to reality. My friends need rescuing and he¡¯s the only man capable of doing that right now¡­ but he needs his wits about him to do that.¡± She said, glancing back at Hoplite.


    He was still just sitting before the throne, humming to himself again in that same tune. Lance bit her cheek as she thought on the best way to approach him. What would be the right method of returning him to rightness? Maybe if she talked about their journey here that could help? Or perhaps asking him questions about where he was from? It was a start¡­ She wasn¡¯t looking forward to sharing a room with Lithia and Nolvi, an evil figure from myth and a destructive demigod would make the process difficult, mostly for her.


    But Hoplite was her friend, and he needed her help.