уАКDomain of ManуАЛ


 001: Cavemen, lizards, and an awful lot of screaming.

    There are many things that a person does not see in ordinary life. Here, though, those sights are almost more common than what most would consider ''normal''.

    It isn''t every day that you see a grand cavern, so grandly lit by the natural green glow of luminescent crystals, hundreds of feet overhead but still so impossibly bright. A cavern with tens of little off-shoot tunnels running in different directions, and with verdant stalagmites reaching for the sky in a vain attempt to join with the beautiful, shining gems so high above. It was a sight so rare, or indeed impossible to see on Earth that it would lead cavers to unfortunate deaths just on the merits of hyperventilation- indeed, on Earth, something like this could only be far underground. Instead, this ''cavern'' was not a cavern at all, but a cave. It sat miles above water level, actually placing the cave, and its new residents, at quite the altitude. The air was still thin, but not so thin as to be lethal, and certainly not from being trapped beneath the ground. Fair few caves come ornamented with thirty people unconscious in a circle, either- especially not in the nude. Naturally, they were the ''new residents'' of the cave.

    It isn''t every day that you see twenty-nine humans together in nakedness, every bit as embarrassed and self-conscious as you are. You could suppose that it was easy to find that on Earth, perhaps on a nudist beach, but this was not some voluntary act of exhibitionism or naturalism, or at least none of the unfortunate souls seemed to remember how they got there. Some were (un)lucky enough to have memories of the precursor, of the swirling black abyss had frozen the world around them and ate them whole. Others had simply gone to sleep at night and woke up in the midst of strangers. Many of this chosen thirty had family with them, but not all. They would also likely never forget the first time they saw each-other in the nude, because even if they were all awkward and embarrassed and maybe even a bit ''excited'', there was also beauty there, like the statues of the Greeks or the Romans. The green glow of the crystals hanging so far over-head gave new color to each shade of skin, one that seemed to make it dance; bringing it to life in a way that only an artist could muster.

    It isn''t quite so easy to find such an insane view from a mountain-side, either. Rather than standing on a ledge, thus cutting off part of your view, the people of the cave also got to see down, deep below their cave''s mouth. It had no real ledge, only little ridges, rocks, and impressively intrepid plants along its steep decline. Far in the distance, they could see a rival mountain, almost as tall as the one they were lodged in appeared to be. Judging by where they met it at eye-level, they were hardly even half way to the peak. Far below, there was a jungle, one that was so lush and impressive that it could put the Amazon to shame. The canopy was so dense that they couldn''t even see the jungle-floor. That was the first thing to tip off the small army of nudists that they might not in fact have been on Earth at all. No one had heard of two improbably tall mountains so close to each-other, let alone adjacent to a jungle.

    It was categorically impossible to see a dragon on the Earth. Scientists had long since started monitoring the entire world at once, and something as large as this moving so fast would have set off a sheer quantity of "counter-terrorism" satellites large enough to accidentally start a thermonuclear war. Rather than a dragon, it was perhaps accurate to call them ''giant snakes'', but as the cave dwellers watched down in awe from their little cave-mouth, they unanimously decided that ''Dragon'' was more appropriate. These Dragons had no legs or arms, but they were giant reptiles. They weaved in and out of the jungle, banking off the mountain-side as though they were just a skater''s half-pipe. They had to be at least a hundred yards long, and they could throw themselves into the air from the they were on mountain-side so fast and hard that they could snap birds from the air as though it was easy, only to land on the other side. It was intense, impressively terrifying, and so yet graceful. That was why ''Dragon'' fit so well- even if they had no wings, these Dragons could fly. They never once fell into the jungle itself, instead seeming to prefer pre-made tracks that they had long since worn into the ground. Also, on re-inspection, the things they had written off as ''big birds'' were quite likely car-sized. Gulp. When one Dragon had passed right over their cave-mouth, they canned any idea of leaving through that exit.

    No matter how fantastical or new something was, it gave way to terror quickly. No matter how ''cool'' the Dragons would have been on a nature documentary, they were real and they were scary and they were trapping them inside. What would they eat in this barren cave? What would they even drink, in fact? How would the younger ones care for themselves? What could they possibly wear? They were hungry, thirst, and naked. Thankfully, people band together. They corralled their rampant curiosity and burgeoning fear and channeled it into exploring the best-lit caves, hoping to find things that were more useful. Thankfully, they had. Some certain individuals even went deep within the bowels of the mountain, but nothing ever seemed to come of it. In any case, the well-lit tunnels had "nutritious" insectoid grubs (and no way to cook them" as well as thankfully clean and crystal-clear water. It was a stroke of luck like no other- there was some form of bat that nested in the caves and they had left behind enough residues over decades to attract native colonies of insects. They had even found some colonies of gross mushrooms that seemed to be edible enough, if unpleasant. Even as disgusting as the grubs and mushrooms were, it was categorically better than eating shit.

    Life went on like that, just exploring while subsisting on grubs and water and human perseverance, until it was rudely interrupted by harsh reality- some of the men were feeling pent-up. This was not a large cave, and it wasn''t easy to find an excuse for privacy. The married couples had no such concern, ''buddying up'' with their significant other as nature called, but bachelors had no such luck. Pair that with the fact that everyone was nude, all the time, and that ''strangers'' does not mean ''good people'', and you have a problem. For the sake of survival, "bad people" will do nice things. They''ll fix their shit up, and play to the strengths of the group, because it''s what they have to do. At the same time, most of the ''badness'' they have just stems from the idea they should be running everything.

    Naturally, one of these "bad people" was a people-pleaser, and he found an excellent friendship with a literal thug, a person who used to be a bouncer from a seedy club, and that man made friends with a normal plumber who had never been able to find a real relationship. None of them were evil, or necessarily even "bad", but they did have urges, and those urges were strong ones. They saw people who had families with them, the couples, and they envied that. They saw the weakness engendered by their desperate attempts to shelter each-other from harm or risk, and that only made it worse. In truth, it probably was true that people weren''t taking the situation seriously enough. At the same time, at no point would the actions they planned to take have been necessary.

    They hatched a plot of how to seize control the next time the husbands and young men would be away, on how they could get their ''fix'' and set things right. Luckily for their would-be victims, and unluckily for the would-be victimizers, people had a sense for these things. The husbands had been ready for the attempt, and had indeed organized on their own just in case of this sort of occurrence. Outnumbered easily two-to-one, the fight was swift and brutal. The men were beaten mercilessly for actions they had yet to take, and without trial, they were cast from the mountain. Literally. Their ''exile'' was to be thrown from the cave''s mouth. It was something no one was happy about, and once the rage left them, it was a new regret. If they had been more sympathetic or really thought things through, or even had let them off with the cruel beating alone, there wouldn''t be three dead men. Life was not some game that you could just restart and try again, though. The group shrank from thirty to twenty-seven. It shouldn''t even be a shock that, rather than the cruel environment itself, the first cause of death was human hands.

    Life did indeed continue, and after many long discussions, quite a few fruitless explorations into the depths, and a number of days and nights, things were back to some approximation of normal. Right until the morning that their neighbor came to greet them, that is. He was an impressive specimen, with massive muscles, a wide frame, and an impressively thick tail. If he was a human, perhaps women of the correct persuasion would simply pass out at a glance from his pale-blue eyes. It was a shame, then, that he wasn''t human. He wasn''t human, at all. He was a reptile, a crocodile-man of great stature. He wore an armored plate over his chest, something like a Samurai''s ин-yoroi, and he wielded a complimentary Yari. His sides were well-covered with sharp, red scales, so they didn''t bother to finish the plates. Those red scales continued all around his body, only ignoring his stomach, which had the pale stomach of a lizard- presumably why armor was necessary at all. The thick metal plates of the pseudo ин-yoroi''s skirt had been parted to make room for the (completely literal, by the way) tail, which lashed from side to side as it walked.

    They didn''t know what to do. It was another fantastic sight, a giant lizard-man armed and dangerous and coming to greet them, and they didn''t know what to do. They would have to choose fast, too, since the monster passed great distances with each step, gliding gracefully over the bumpy and uneven terrain of the cavern. Most of the crowd truly wasn''t prepared to act. When it came to ''brutally victimizing each-other'', people tended to make decisions in mobs, but this was no other ''person''. It was a monster, a true beast of the likes the Earth had never seen. In situations like this, it was up to a select few who were willing and able to make decisions to actually do so. Humans tended to consider them ''Heroes'', as a general rule.

    The first person to respond truly was a hero. He was a doctor of many years, middle-aged and wise. He had retired his primary career to become a pediatrician, and in his time as a pediatrician, he had become thoroughly convinced that any situation could be talked out civilly, that even the most obstinate of children could be tamed with enough caring, understanding, and effort. Who could possibly be better than him to appease this lizard-man? ''Lewis will handle it, he''s a politician!'' He had thought, but when the old doctor searched through the terrified crowd for him, he was far too busy cowering in the corner to help. So now it was up to him. He set himself ahead of the crowd, trying his best.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    He bowed and scraped, trying to appease whatever cultural overlap the big lizard had with the Japanese, but it didn''t seem to so much as slow. As it drew ever nearer, he even tried a proper ''Dogeza'' of the like he had learned long ago. The monster was right in front of him, now, and it loomed over his prostrated form. It had stopped. He let his hope swell, scrambling to his feet, staring it in the nostril-holes. He couldn''t manage eye-contact, although that might have been for the best. He waited, and waited. Then, he tried to speak- only to be cut off by a terrible noise. It was like a weed-whacker was being held right next to his ear, or that of a thrumming motor. The lizard''s mouth was gaping open wide, then shut, and then wide once more. It took him a moment to realize it was laughing. It kept on going, and going.

    He started to laugh, too, hoping to get in on the joke, to build comradery. When he realized that it was laughing at him, he panicked. He didn''t stop laughing, but he did start to back away. That was how he died- he laughed with the lizard only a moment longer before its spear slammed into his head. The force of the impact and some oddity of the motion combined to great effect, and rather than gore splattering everywhere or his body toppling to the floor with the spear lodged in it, his head practically exploded into a fine mist, popping like a balloon. The crowd was not just terrified, now. No, no, they were screaming and running and cowering like their life depended on it. Some just tried to run past the horrible Crocodile monster, towards the only true exit from the cave, while others were immobile due to the terrible truth of what they had seen. One, however, did neither.

    He was the second hero. Rather than a friendly sort of ''save-the-day-for-everyone'' superhero, he was a quite frankly a heartless son of a bitch- his actions would only save himself, at best. The main reason that was so terrible was that the boy had come with his family, not even a bunch of strangers. He hadn''t even informed them of his escape attempt. Something had snapped in him, quite recently or possibly even long before they were ''taken'', and he had been a true soldier ever since. Although, it should be noted that he considered himself more of a commander, a general. It was one of his favorite hobbies- military history, strategy, and so forth. He was a tall young man, a teenager no older than fifteen with an exceptionally narrow frame and frail limbs. Indeed, he had been called ''Twig'' for quite a long time. His real name was Caleb, and he ran for the tunnels, rather than the cave mouth. He was one of the few to actually explore the cave, and while he had never found a way out, he had found a few leads. Not that he had told anyone that, of course. It was his escape route. Francis Marion wasn''t famous for being an excellent duelist or a nice human being, no; his claim to fame had come from the time he spent using and abusing the environment to make a clean get-away. The lizard paid the ape trying to hide no heed, instead deigning to just stab at another of its brethren running for the exit. It had the thing''s scent, and if it had the scent, there would be no escape- or so it believed. The second hero succeeded in starting his plan, but only time could tell if it would come to fruition.

    It seemed as though he was the only other one would step forward. The few who still had the will to run were the last to even attempt an escape, with the rest of the people simply broken, their lives officially so far off the tracks that there were no tracks anymore, left spinning in place like a broken record waiting to be replaced, or in this case, ''disposed of''. There were only three runners, now, while eleven cowered in the back, and one ran to the tunnels, composing the sixteen people left alive. The runners moved in unison, and the fastest of the runners gave even the lizard pause. It had to spend an entire second poking a hole in his body. He fell away, and in the time it was busy with him, the other two had made good time. They were actually ahead of it, now, running desperately for the cave-mouth. It ran, spearing the slower of the two. It could see the satisfying sight of the cave''s floor through him, like a morbid magic trick. He went to repeat it, running for the next of the apes. When it finally caught up, though, he realized that there was just another layer of skin on the other side, as thoughбн

    If the crocodile-man had the highly responsive skin of a mammal, it may have blanched white. It had seen twenty seven people when it came in, but when it had re-counted just now; it had only actually seen fifteen, despite killing only eleven- which could only mean that the last of the foul beasts was out of sight. At least, she had been, until he poked a hole in her cover. She was a lithe little thing and the fastest runner of all the humans to make the attempt thus far. She had mirrored the inferior runner to use him as cover, an effective (if tragic) way to give her a better lease at escaping. Her pace and cadence had been perfect, matching even the big man''s footfalls to disguise her own, lighter steps. The only thing that really helped the Crocodile-Man catch on so fast was the fact her skin-color didn''t match his, she mused- not particularly accurate, but it was still fact.

    The man had been the tanned white of someone who worked in the sun, although it had lost some of its bronze because of the many days in the cave''s dim, UV-deficient light, while the girl was a sandy, light-brown that would be termed ''Hispanic'' in a heartbeat. If Caleb''s flight towards the tunnels could be called ''running'', then she was flying across the cave, faster than even the Crocodile Man who chased her. She was a tad broken, too. She smiled as she ran, dancing a mad dance over the bumpy terrain that could only be described as ''a drugged-up ballerina running from Satan himself''. If someone saw the scene from a distance, they might have even been able to guess that answer in Charades. The two of them cut fast across the grand cavern, and almost too quickly, she was gone. She had almost leapt from the cave-mouth, well and truly free of the creature''s grasp. It would find time to chase the swift ape in a moment, it resolved. It couldn''t risk the other eleven escaping.

    The lizard roared, a sound less like a weed-whacker and more like a chainsaw, and it tore back towards the rest of the humans, killing them even more thoroughly dead than the rest. It was pissed, now. Not one, but two newly Ascended creatures had got the better of him, even if it was temporary. The browner of the two apes was out on the cliffs of the mountain, so it couldn''t possibly make good time, it thought. It went to the tunnels, gliding into the dark. If one was to look, they could see its eyes widen, taking in the dim light easily and readily, almost as naturally as a nocturnal predator. It had calmed down a bit, now, and it had a job to do.

    It followed the scent of the tunnel-runner, trailing it deep into a massive pile of guano. It was disgusting for the creature to dig through the swill, and worse to find absolutely nothing in it. He stamped and stamped, frustrated. The scent practically ended in the pile, and following the little bit of trail left him to an impressively murky pool of water. He was furious- the ape had anticipated it and tried to throw him off the trail. He tore through the tunnels, and near the very end of his hunt, he found a steep, near-vertical shaft that reeked of the little mongrel''s blood. It was too small to fit down for him, and he could tell the scent was a long way down. It was a start, but tracking it down thereбн The ape on the cliff would have to be first.

    He ran to the main cavern, once more venting his frustrations, this time at full volume. The stalactites shook overhead, and he only barely stopped in time to avoid dislodging some over his head. Even with his scales, it would hurt. Still, it couldn''t possibly hurt more than his shattered pride. He left the cave, hoping to catch at least the easier of the two would-be escapees. Then, the cave was empty once more. No nude humans lived within, now. It was serene, if terrifying, with all of those corpses.

    The floor of the cave began to pool with the blood of the fallen, and as it settled, it attained the sort of infinite reflection that only the undisturbed waters of a cavern could hope to gain. The green stalactites hung overhead, and if someone were to look into the cave, they would think that there was a matching set of red stalagmites. It was the sharp teeth of a cruel beast, and thirty humans had been dropped there to die. Perhaps the cave wasn''t the culprit, but it didn''t need to be- there would always be a reason to kill, and a reason to be killed. That was the natural order. At least, it had been. With every successive generation, humans spent untold amounts of effort combatting that order. Fighting nature- even human nature. Eventually they succeeded, truly attaining a world that could be considered ''right and just'', without war or unnatural death. As early as the year 20XX, the most significant cause of death had become old age and even the standard of that had long surpassed the lofty goals of their forefathers.

    Yet, it was robbed from them. Quite a number of that beautiful world were simply plucked from their homeland and dropped straight into a brand new world, as though to mock them for living a life with nothing to fear. That was a mistake, though, and a big one. It was true that by 21XX, humanity had become attained world piece, found new heights in technology, and even solved the balancing act of ''industry'' and ''environment''. If that was where history started, you would get the wrong idea. In reality, humanity warred with itself on an increasingly massive scale, hunted down any and all reason to obliterate any competitor species or threat to their turf as far back as the Stone Age, orchestrated great advances in technology just to spite each-other and even discovered a weapon that was quite potentially world-ending and proceeded to build thousands and thousands of them, because their fellow man could not be trusted to simply avoid ending the world as a matter of course, and that insane concept led to the longest sustained peace until the Great Afterwards that led to the true golden age. Humanity was ruthless, with a capacity to hold grudges across centuries and wars over generations, and it would never tire.

    All thirty of the people who had once lived in this God-forsaken cave had one, unified thought burning in their minds every single night. They were unified in the certainty that they would make whatever monster stole them away pay, and pay dearly. None of the people themselves could have known that was what they really, truly felt. The thought came in many forms, after all. It could be "I wish my family could just be safe." Or perhaps "how could this happen to me?" Or even "what did I do to deserve this?" Yet under all three burns the same rage at the squalor they had been forced in, or the suffering their families had underwent. Even in Caleb, the death of his family would still; follow him for a long time still, burning the rage in his gut until he was a creature of righteous vengeance and fire.

    The phony crimson crystals of the bloody reflection almost seemed to shine brighter than the real things hanging on the cave''s ceiling, so far above.

 002: Nerds come in all shapes and sizes; half of them are badly injured.

    It was like any other Friday. Easy enough schoolwork- the teachers didn''t like to ''steal'' the weekend away. Hang out with friends with the extra time. Relax at home. Caleb was simple enough, not an artist or an athlete, but he enjoyed his leisure. Like every other young teen, his walls belied what sort of person he was.

    The room was painted a light shade of brown, almost tan, complimented with a navy-blue carpet. Within sat a plain-looking, white-sheeted bed on a probably queen-sized frame, a plain desk (of the Ik*a variety quite probably), a small hamper for clothes, and a simplistic dresser. The most interesting thing contained in the room might be the chair, which contrasted the desk in its grandeur. It was oversized, draped in scarlets and burgundies on the firm black background, with wings of fabric to cushion and support its occupant. The informed would probably see the truth of it, that it was the archetypal ''gamer chair''.

    Caleb was not a gamer. He had played some games, maybe, but he hadn''t owned anything past a Gameboy. The fancy chair was the envy of his friends, but it was to benefit his works. His schoolwork was one such work, sitting more comfortably evidently jogging the brain according to that one study that his mom read once, and his hobby. The contents of the room examined, a closer look at the walls may elucidate the other.

    The publicly accessible back-wall was framed with poster after poster. Rather than pretty girls or role-models or just good-old-fashioned cool shit, it was covered in overly complex tic-tac-toe games. At least, that''s what it was to the untrained eye. The accurate and complete truth was that they were war, battles long past. The battle of Gettysburg. Red circles from the north criss-crossing towards blue squares in the south, complete with tiny text describing the roads, landmarks, obstacles, and objectives. It simply could not be understood by someone without training. The battle of Edgehill was significantly simpler with its English regulars and straight lines of movement. Unlike the brawl of Gettysburg, the average person may be able to guess at the battle''s sway and flow. More and more and more of these little circles and squares and colors on white backgrounds.

    Caleb was not an artist or an athlete, he was a savant. The target of his excellence was precisely war, in its entirety. The back-wall was lined with posters, entirely the product of a scholarly interest in tactics and stratagem. The side-walls and fore-wall, bordering the door, were both covered in articles of war. Uniforms and replica uniforms from generations past. Swords and daggers and spears of several varieties, hanging like some fancy show-piece. Guns, albeit of the A*rsoft or Paintball variety, completed the set.

    While others were drawing, bumming dope from friends, playing games, or lounging about, Caleb was pouring over text after text of military history, strategy, and instruction. Excellent memory translated to reality, too. He had met many of his local friends from the wild, full-neighborhood games of shooting they would play, curious tweens joining the herd either with their very own weaponry or after borrowing pistols and such from others. Caleb''s studies and prowess in the subject made him increasingly lethal over time.

    He had never stopped learning, and over the years, he became ''General''. The other kids who hadn''t stopped playing, almost as dedicated as he was to these fake little wars of theirs, tended to band up against him. His studies gave him an almost preternatural level of situational awareness, and combined with half of a decade of live shooting practice, he became an excellent shot. He would wage war, taking his team- no matter how small- to a swift victory. Some were as overwhelming as the Battle of Rorke''s Drift, displays of organization and planning that outstripped the would-be Zulu. They had to stop giving him a team at some point, and in free-for-all, it was an unspoken rule to take out Twig before any other player, given the chance.

    Caleb had a simple plan for his Friday night. He had found a digital replication of the original, full-Latin De Munitionibus Castrorum. It was one of the few volumes he had left to read untranslated, and that''s what he''d do. That''s what he''d planned to do, at least. Then it happened.

    The world started spinning.

    The entire world was spinning. Not his head, not his chair, but the world. It was as though he had been tossed in a blender, tearing into and distorting the walls and floor. His nice little square began to look a lot more like a sphere before it flew away entirely. Caleb half expected to see a tornado on the other side, but even more shockingly, there was nothing. He was in the midst of a void of darkest black.

    Caleb pushed off of the chair arm, abusing the weirdness of this place to turn in the opposite direction, to look towards where the hallway and great room used to be. It tore away too, like all else His father and mother hung in space, flailing and with nothing to use to move themselves at this point. They were considerably naked, which made Caleb feel awkward. He realized he was quite naked, too. With that realization, he felt even more awkward. They were stuck hanging in the void for a minute or two before they suddenly weren''t anymore.

    We''re not in Wisconsin anymore, MacArthur.

    They were all on the floor, dazed and confused, and quite naked. A whole group of them, all different ages and shapes. Caleb would have appreciated the view in front of him, a cute Spanish girl who was every bit as naked as he was, but it wasn''t the time. He was the very first to his feet, already no longer ''Caleb'', but instead the ''General''. He was awed by the sight. He was most definitely not in Wisconsin, in any case. Wisconsin did not have impossibly emerald crystals the size of cars lying about willy-nilly.

    He scanned for escape routes, and for the places where whomever abucted themmight strike from. There was a number of tunnels branching off to the darkness from this stunningly beautiful cave, and only one way that led to a place brighter than this one. A way out, perhaps. Caleb paced as far as he could from the cavities, equidistant from the many dark caves, to best give himself a view within. It put him in the line of sight of those who may be in hiding, lying in wait, and as such, Caleb tensed to dodge the moment he saw motion within. There are roads that must not be followed. Any of them could be filled with enemies.

    Eventually, the rest of the group awoke. They were normal, unequipped for the situation. Their recklessness was such that they ran into tunnels willy-nilly, hoping for food or water, long before it was necessary. Caleb scoffed at that, but he kept incognito, quiet within the group.

    This continued and continued, through what little strife and progress they made. The fools hadn''t even begun to estimate the tunnel''s structure, to predict when the massive snakes called ''Dragons'' would pass by the cave''s mouth, or to find a way to get down those great sources of light on the roof. Just before he decided to split-off entirely, to find his own way free, the decision was made for him. The untrained mass was beset by a true warrior, a well-trained Crocodile, who seemed intent on eliminating them all.

    Orwell had once said that ''one always abandons something in retreat''. As far as Caleb had read and seen, it was more emphatic. To say ''one always abandons something in retreat'' is passive, too weak of a proclamation. It was truer to say ''one must abandon something to retreat''. The few fools who flee instead of withdraw are long lost to history as inglorious losers, while the intelligent cowards remain considered Heroes even today. Caleb hated it. Caleb did not want to abandon those people who he almost began to like, to abandon his own family, to leave them all to death. It must be done, though. Caleb had planned for this situation long before. He knew what to do. That plan involved sacrifices, and if it must be done, it would be. The enemy was scarier and deadlier than he had hoped all the more reason to be decisive.

    "I am not a Twig or Caleb or just some kid. I am the General, and the General must not fall."

    That desperate mantra was all he had to keep him sane as he fled. The tunnel he ducked into was a dangerous choice. It was nigh-unlit, but it had all of the things he needed to hide himself away. He followed the twisting tunnels, branch after branch, running as fast as he could. It wasn''t a particularly impressive speed, but it''d have to be enough. He dived in a pit of guano, a meter-deep depression made from the acidic substance slowly eating into the rock. Caleb was careful not to let any enter his various cavities, especially the mouth or eyes. That''d just be too gross, even if it would make the shit-smeared disguise more complete. He rolled through the muck like a pig. The guano was not the be-all end-all, though. It was merely step one. He rose from the pit, stained black and brown and visibly disgusted at his own stench.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    He scrambled up, heaving his way to the gently sloping floor of ''the cave''. He began his trek, much slower. The effort had left him even more out of breath, and he couldn''t muster that bravado again. Just stick to the plan. He found the next destination quickly enough, one of the many reflection pools in the caves. This one was used for bathing, but it hadn''t been exposed to the detritus of a boy covered in feces before. It turned murky brown, removing most of it tidily from him. That wasn''t really the important part, though. What mattered was that with the soak, his smell faded away. The smell of his body was masked thoroughly, and with the nasty fumes of the guano removed, he was simply ''plain-smelling''. Not like a human, not like a dung-beetle, just a faded scent of nasty and nothing. Next, he ran to a certain location that was covered in dusty silicates. The group had been shocked to find such things, but the powder nearly tasted like salt, and it made the grub and awful plants just that little bit more bearable. Now, he rolled in it, a fine powder sinking into his still-wet skin. He couldn''t tell in the dim light from the few crystals still hanging from the offshoot tunnel''s ceiling, but he was certain he looked like the tawny cave walls. Even if his scent was masked, he needed to be as invisible as possible to escape a predator like that monstrous lizard. This was step three, done. Two to go. Nearby this cavity of ''salt'', there was a tiny shaft, angled steeply downwards. Through his mental map, Caleb had estimated where it would lead, but he couldn''t be certain. If it worked, it would buy him several days of time to find a way out.

    He had been much further than the group in these caves. He spent some time exploring, even spending a full day finding his way deeper towards the mountain''s base. Eventually, the dim green lights of the Emerald Crystals faded for a different sort entirely, a jagged Ruby Crystal formation that hugged the roof like studs rather than stalactites. The called the two areas the ''Green Zone'' and ''Red Zone'', respectively. Caleb was certainly quite clever, and almost definitely hadan excellent naming sense. Don''t judge.

    As far as he had gone, he had entered a small ''room'' in the Red Zone that had a hole in the ceiling with a gentle upward slope, barely visible in the crimson glow. A bit of conjecture said that the angle and direction just about aligned with the similar hole in the Green Zone. Thus, he incorporated it in any escape route he made. If they were confronted with something as deadly as the ''Dragons'', he''d need every advantage to survive. To take it in faith that strategy and forethought could win over brute strength. He had never practiced going down the shaft before, though, so he had no idea if this slide would be lethally steep and simply shatter his body, or perhaps dump him in the waiting jowls of some monster far below. That caused a small involuntary shiver, which Caleb brushed aside as quickly as he could. There were stories of British generals staring down machineguns and artillery alike, what was a little slide compared to that? With that thought in mind, he lowered himself into the claustrophobic opening.

    Caleb did not anticipate that he would pick up speed at such an astonishing rate. Perhaps the salty skin-rub he applied acted as a lubricant, reducing friction on his back. Perhaps it was his twig-like demeanor, providing no real obstacle to sliding. He began his attempts to slow, swinging his arms out against the wall in a desperate attempt to break his fall. It was like the most terrifying waterslide Caleb had ever been on, sans water, and most certainly without a tide-pool to catch him below. The dim red glow suddenly filled the space, sweeping over him. With the light, he could see that he was still going much faster than expected or desired. He held his fore-arms against the walls, forcing himself to slow down by sheer arm-strength and friction. His arms were skinned and torn, agony shooting through their every nerve, but the impromptu friction brake was working. He slowed down rapidly, and not moments too soon. The walls fell away, and he was ejected to the rough floor below. It hurt like hell, but he wasn''t dead. That was more than what could be said for most of the other would-be escapees, Caleb figured. It still bothered him that something as obvious as friction would escape his plan. This was a learning experience, and it''d need to be put to good use to calm his aching ego.

    This room of the Red Zone wasn''t as grandiose as the Green Zone''s great cavern. The ceiling was no higher than six feet, low enough for Caleb to hit the roof on tip-toes, and the red studs lighting it were less imposing than the massive crystalline formations that hung like chandeliers far above. The thought of that struck him in an instant. The boy crawled to one of tunnel mouths, still oozing blood at an astonishing rate, and found a suitably large piece of rubble. The fact that the rubble existed was cause for concern. Something, or someone, was able to dig a fancy slide through hundreds of feet of rock and leave rubble in an otherwise pristine, natural cavern. The little bit of tunnel visible in the light was covered in dust and rock, as though something had dug it through recently. He made a note to actively avoid that particular route. He wrenched up the piece of rubble, still on the floor, and began using it to drag himself back. His legs would not comply, maybe shocked from the sudden impact. Caleb had to hope his Lumbar wasn''t shattered, and it was just a shock, at least. In retrospect, ''dive down an unlit vertical shaft you''ve never been in before'' wasn''t his best plan. It was lucky enough that he had even predicted the right terminus for he slide''s descent. If he had fallen even a little further, he''d be in even more dire straits.

    By the time he made it back to the nearest piece of the infinite array of red crystals, he was getting woozy. Thankfully, the bleeding from his arms had stymied. At this rate, he wouldn''t die from the blood-loss, but it would be just as lethal to fall unconscious. He shook himself awake, leveraging the rock in his palms to try to shift himself upwards. Trying his legs again, they finally began to move. For a moment, it felt odd, like they were moving of their own volition. Then they were his again, suddenly, and Caleb could really feel them. They hurt like hell, but they were his again. He made his way to his feet, wobbly, and swung the rock at a glittering crystal. It smashed into the thing, crushing it back. Evidently, the crystals were not like gems, which could resist something as plain as a little bit of limestone. It popped out of its socket in the roof, crystal clattering to the floor, and the thing split into two pieces, tiny shards strewn across the floor below. He dropped the stony rubble. The effort of the swing tore open his right arm again, but Caleb was too intent on not stepping on the sharp fragments of red crystal to care. He gingerly grabbed for the larger of the two halves, grabbing it. It was deceptively heavy for its size, easily twice what he expected, but it''d have to do. Caleb reeled back, nearly tipping backwards, but clear of any further danger to the soles of his feet.

    The gem in his hand hurt to hold, but it was bright. A source of light. He''d have to make due. That thought in mind, he went to the nearest wall, grinding it against the smooth surface. It took some effort, but eventually it was satisfactorily sanded-down, rough edges made slightly more bearable. He sat against the wall for a long time, waiting for his body to return to sorts, covering his bloody limbs as well as he could. The Lizard-monster had lost his scent, but it was only a matter of time before it realized that the iron wafting up from the shaft was fresh blood from a certain escaped Human. It was probably already too late to cover his tracks, but anything that might buy him time was worth the effort.

    Finally satisfactorily healed and increasingly nervous of the Lizard''s knowledge of the tunnels-maybe it had been here before- Caleb began his descent. One tunnel in particular was just his height and not all that wide, a potential advantage when fleeing from that brawny reptile. It would have to go in nearly sideways just to fit its shoulders. The red glimmer from his new crystal-lamp made everything all the more earie. It was a long trek down the tunnel, which gently descended. At times, he would have to duck, and at others, it seemed to stretch far overhead, which gave him the heebie-jeebies. Even at his walking pace, the lizard did not suddenly gore him from behind, so at least one thing about the plan had gone right. The walk was almost therapeutic, letting Caleb make new plans, correct old ones, to think of the future and what he''d need to do to survive.

    All of that went out of the window when he saw it for the first time. It was not an exit to the valley outside. It wasn''t another cavernous hub of tunnels or small, well-lit room. Stunning marble walls, lit with blue torches- an aesthetic choice, the torches were tipped with little blue ''crystals'' not unlike the red one he held in his hands. Caleb couldn''t stop to enjoy the beautiful imprints and engravings covering every register, because he figured out the nature of the place. He was facing down a maze, a labyrinth, the master-work of this place''s Daedalus cast far below the world''s surface. The little blue torches were just bright enough to bathe light on an impressive number of corpses, of all different shapes and sizes. Many were human, but just as numerous were corpses that simply couldn''t be human. Each hall was littered with the skeletons of a thousand races, and Caleb had a sinking feeling he was doomed to be one. He ran back, trying to re-enter the long and winding tunnel that had led him here, but it was gone. It had vanished without a trace, a smooth wall replacing where the narrow entrance had stood moments before. In the distance, billowing over the impossibly large walls, he heard a roar. It was a roar of such magnitude that it made the yowling of lions seem like a kitten''s mewls. Caleb cowered, only to realize there was simply no time to be afraid, that he could not afford it.

    Every maze has its Minotaur.

 003: Clothes can wait, Ive got a monster to slay!

    Caleb cowered under the roar. He shrunk back against the wall, which was now tragically devoid of any escape from the terror he had thrust himself in. He had entered a graveyard, somewhere he''d die. He was certain of that, at least. This was fatal. Damn the overgrown Komodo dragon, whatever made that awful noise had to be the real deal. There he sat, and kneeled, and thought. It consumed him, and confused him, and in a twisted way, his entire situation amused him. He had gone from any normal evening in his home to a nudist''s cave retreat, only to witness the cruelty necessary to make a society reform.

    He had found that almost fascinating. Caleb had read text after aged text of records of battle and armies. The punishments detailed in there were academic to him, simply experiments in keeping soldiers in line. To see that act in person? He had dream after dream of commanding armies, but even with his obsession, he hadn''t included executions in the fantasies- usually, at least. It had taken new life. He had been on the receiving end of the terror of martial law. While nude. He had honestly wondered from time to time whether this whole thing was the product of his twisted mind. He had never really been interested in fantasy, though, and it became very clear that they weren''t on, or even in the general vicinity of, Earth. To start, the day and night cycle was off-kilter in a variety of ways. The people gathered in the cave were from all over the planet as well, even if they all had a common language in English. It was a level of precision even intelligence organizations would struggle to manage. Of course, the most obvious ''tell'' was that there were Dragons scattered about.

    It was all too clear that this wasn''t a dream, now. It wasn''t even a nightmare. It was real, and it was happening. He was really cowering against a wall, running on fumes, having witnessed his family (and a bunch of other people he had come to know) be brutally murdered. Or, at least, with the knowledge that he had left them to die. Just left them there. He had even justified it too himself, as though it wasn''t pure cowardice. True, he had survived. True, he would have died if he tried anything other than ''the Plan''. If he was going to step up and take action, he could have at least tried to make a real difference, though. In the face of death, Caleb was all too aware of his faults.

    He overanalyzes everything, afraid of action. Too afraid of death to be a champion, even if he could maybe do it if he tried. Too lazy to go further in his pursuits than beating some other idiot kids in faux battles. Hell, he had even felt proud of that ''achievement''. It looked so stupid, in retrospect. His pride in his limited knowledge, the absolute arrogance of even trying to compare to those figures in history who put things into action- a scholar, and a poor one at that. He was awkward, and any charm he had fell aside to his pursuit of war. Who had heard of a leader with no charisma? What was he thinking?

    Around the time Caleb confirmed to himself that he was a sorry sack of garbage, he broke. A fury, an inferno of electricity surged through him, setting his every hair on end. Caleb had never felt this way, and he still hadn''t- because Caleb was no more.

    So what if he was lame, if he had fucked up, if he had been too proud to risk himself to save the others?

    It had not been his choice. None of it had. Not a single thing about the situation was of his own choice. That would have to change. There would be no more crying against some dingy wall- he had been crying, apparently- no more flailing about in the dark, and no more terror. He would be the one to decide who did what, and where they''d do it at. To be in control, at all times, without fail. This was the end of excuses. The choices would be his. He would not acquiesce to some lizard, and certainly not to the stupid thing hunting for him.

    He had been driven into a corner. Forced back against a wall. Yet, that could not stop him. How many people had triumphed from this exact same point of view, how many underdogs have ruled the day? One in particular had put it rightly- "I have not yet begun to fight!" This yawning maze presented the corpses, the great and terrible roar, the absence of a way out, as if to ask- "Are you defeated? Have you been crushed?"

    I have not yet begun to fight!

    The General was born. No matter the monsters awaiting him, he would find a way. No obstacle would be too strong for his resolution. With that fact in mind, he stood from the wall. He wobbled, but after a moment, he was to his feet once more. The glow of the crimson crystal made his arms every bit as red as the new-found rage burning in his chest.

    Humans wear clothes. He made his decision quickly- no time to waste now that his little whining session gave the ''Minotaur'' time to close the gap- and sprinted for the hall pointed towards the origin of the roar. Knowing mazes, this would probably be the least likely to lead him to the middle, and most likely to take him to an exit. He watched the corpses as he went, hoping for one with about his size. Most of them were skeletons by now; plates of excessively large or depressingly small armor left as the only substantial thing remaining. Many of which were punctured with holes too massive to be made by any weapon he was aware of. Even the freshest of the corpses were most of the way through decay, and the clothes they wore tended to be ripped to shreds or just as degraded. He ran headlong through each cerulean corridor, hoping for anything worth grabbing.

    The corpses were strangely devoid of weapons. Whatever had killed them took special care to remove each weapon, which was quite unfortunate for the General. He had already started thinking up plans, but several factors worked against him. First, the floor of the maze was absolutely devoid of any markings, despite the evidently dangerous creature prowling through it. He had no clue as to if the creature was even a mammal, let alone its true size. Second, the absence of weapons limited his ability to combat it directly, forcing him to take a completely blind approach to the escape rather than methodically trailing walls. These facts made him even more furious- so what if it had tried to cover its tracks? So what if there were no weapons? He would find a way.

    Each of the corpses seemed to be left in the exact position they died in. Though, a few that fell more towards the center of the corridors might have been shifted to the side. Whatever killed them, it wasn''t doing it for food. Perhaps it couldn''t even eat meat, or it didn''t eat in a traditional way. That ruled out a few ideas he had for distraction- cutting off fingers, so forth. If it wasn''t a predator, it may not be tracking him through smell at all. How had it known he entered so quickly? Did it have some way of tracking him from the center? He didn''t see any cameras, so that wasn''t likely. The strangeness of this world meant he couldn''t rule it out, though. This left him with two real ideas.

    Then he realized that each of the corpses really was left in the exact position they died in. He looked more intently at each passing failure, especially the still-decaying ones, and he spotted it. The arm of this corpse- it looked startlingly similar to that of a ''Dwarf'' from a certain series of fantasy movies. Ignoring the terrible squish of the rotting body and the bile it had soaked in, he flipped itover. The arm that was tucked under the Dwarf''s chest ripped under the strain of the weight- from the bludgeon it held in a death grip. It had been sheltered under the Dwarf''s body as he died, evading the beast''s detection. Whatever it was, it wasn''t as intelligent as it seemed. Perhaps it had merely been trained to grab the weapons, not doing it of its own volition.

    The mace was a weighty ball-mace on a long pole. It weighed something like 6 pounds, and holding it was a pain. It was better than nothing, though, and the General learned to situate it on his shoulders. He began to move again, albeit a bit slower than before. It irked him a bit that finding a weapon was this much easier than finding clothes. If the corpses couldn''t provide him with anything to wear, he would have to find another way. It wasn''t dignified for someone of his stature to go without uniform, let alone without anything at all.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Turn after turn, he finally found an area that would be worth using. It was a four-way intersection, with two corridors actually connected in a loop. He couldn''t find a way into the cordoned-off cavity, but that wouldn''t matter. It was risky with so little to go with, but he had to resolve for the fight eventually. The mace flew with a thud, digging into the ground. Regardless of if he could use any of his plans, having the tools at his disposal would be necessary if he hoped to survive. Patton had once said that a good battle plan was one that you could act on today, rather than a perfect one designed tomorrow. He would have to make do with a shot in the dark.

    ___

    He heard the beast before he could see it. The dull thump of its steps, one by one, implying it was of the bipedal variety. When its head whipped around the bend, staring down the long hall straight at the General, it became clear that was not the case. It had a long face, with a gently up-turned nose, lips naturally slightly parted. Its teeth shone bright in the blue light, wide and jagged, as though molars had been sharpened to points. Its eyes were somewhere between the sides of its head and the front, more like that of a herbivore than the great and terrible murder-machine it evidently was. It was furless, instead covered in deep-set and thick skin flaps, like a rhino. This skin was a distinct shade of deep-grey, turned deep teal by the light''s tinge, and it did nothing to hide the rippling muscles that lined the thing''s jaws and neck.

    It had more reach than he had hoped, but as long as he prepared well enough, he was confident in his ability to compensate. One way or another, this would be his great stand. No more running. To his elation, the next part of the creature''s body to be revealed was as hoped- hooves. They were intensely muscular, impossibly dangerous, impressively flexible, but hooves nonetheless. They were tall, the little bit of exposed back sloped down, just like its neck. They seemed to act as a fulcrum for its weight, perhaps giving it the ''oomph'' required to poke all of those massive holes in the armor he had seen. That was the biggest tip-off- both of the methods it had used to detect him would seem to imply a more animalistic beast, and if it wasn''t a weapon that broke the armor, what did? This massive beast was in line with his guesses, more or less. The next bits would be the moment of truth. Its abdomen was muscled, still in decline from the foreleg''s height, and it hung from the spine, rib-cage completely hidden under the folds. The configuration was slightly strange compared to most quadrupeds, favoring the forelegs, and it had two horizontal shafts of muscles pumping towards the front, no doubt to add to the ''kick''.

    Finally, the rest of it slunk around the bend. He could only catch glimpses before it aligned with him, staring him down. Its tail was not quite as expected. It was huge, which he had figured, but it was just a tail, to balance out its front. The thing was like the tail of a beaver, wide and thin, and it would probably hurt like hell if he was thwacked by it, but it was just a tail. The feature he expected there was in fact on the rear-legs, especially the feet. Rather than hooves, it was like it was walking on light-grey starfish. They expanded and contracted, sometimes flitting all the way to the edges of the corridor where it stood. Eimer''s Organ, or something like it. It was using these extremely sensitive tendrils to detect even the slightest tremor in the maze, hunting the source. As soon as I had entered, it knew, not because of sight or smell, but because it felt me arrive. This thing was more similar to a Star-Nosed Mole than a Rhino or a Beaver, really. That was something he had counted on. Even if they weren''t as sensitive as the nose of the Mole, they were still sensory organs. They would prove more malleable, more vulnerable than anywhere else on the thing.

    The totality of it, the creature''s toothy grin, its broad and deadly hooves, the writhing ''feet'', made for a frightening scene. It loomed over him, massive even in the distance. It was built to kill him, to hunt any intruder through these dark halls, the poison set in the trap that was the Blue Zone. It wasn''t in any hurry, just a still mass of pure certainty that it would fulfill its purpose. This was the maze''s minotaur, the ashen murderer responsible for all of those corpses. The beast was truly fit for that one purpose, even combing over its tracks with the seemingly infinite tentacles writhing around on its hind-legs.

    He had to look away. The laughter was coming too hard and heavy- the monster was a rhino-mole? That was the big baddie?

    The beast was suitably offended. It charged, taking advantage of the fact he was looking away, or perhaps simply in a rage that the prey was mocking it, covering meters with ever bound. Rather than slow it down, the rear legs practically floated over the terrain, still providing intimate detail of every movement the General made- or maybe even wanted to make. He couldn''t be certain, since something as tiny as a weight shift might set it off this close. The most talented warrior couldn''t win a fight against an omniscient, after all. What were strategists for?

    There was no strategy in the charge, just sheer power. It was upon him, then, rearing back to deliver a fatal blow, a stomp that would turn his unarmored, unclothed body to viscera and meat-paste. It was almost too fast for him to react, but he made it just in time. He leapt at an odd angle, thankfully distant from both hooves and not just the one aimed straight at him. It was dumb luck that it hadn''t chosen the other side. The beast slammed the ground close behind him, nearly catching his foot, and howled in pure agony. Everywhere around him- and where he had just stood- were barely uncovered bones, buried upright, with impressively sharp ends. Shatters from hoof-wounds tend to snap bones, if not grind them to dust. He had plenty of bodies to choose from. The softer under-hoof flesh had no chance against an incursion like this, mounted on the tiny spikes. The creature was stuck only for a moment, long enough for him to scramble to his feet and around the corner. The tunnel-loop, the great magic trick. The beast was furious, jaw nearly unhinged as it whirled around the corner, blood still dripping from its hooves. He snagged the mace perched just so against the wall and ran, ducking the first snap of its mighty head. The beast was not leisurely now, no, it was charging, bite after bite closing distance to the General''s exposed neck. He only just had time to duck again and grab a bone from. Lining the walls were two great columns of corpses, assembled and perched on just a few leaning femurs each- just like the one he snagged. The Swiss Defense was plan A, to catch the predator unaware and dump the bodies on its sensitive tail. Plan A wouldn''t cut it, though, since he had miscalculated. There were far more advantages to the creature if its Eimer Organ was on the tail, but the less-likely of the two options was the correct one: it was actually on each of the hind legs.

    Instead of turning to try and batter it or collapse the other column, he struggled to flee again, gaining ground on the distracted and partially buried beast. It finally chased after, streaks of blood still trailing from the punctured fore-hooves. The General jumped and jumped struggling through the pain. He was really taxing his body, and he had been pushing it hard all day. Had it been longer than twenty-four hours? No way of knowing, really. He finally slowed, turning. The stamping had stopped. The mole-taur staggered and lurched, but it couldn''t seem to get free. It went full-speed through line after line of bones, lodged into the ground like the trap from the start of the fight. This time, though, they were sticking out plenty- diagonally. They were not meant to be crushed down on, but charged into. The most basic of Cheval de Frise, a simple stud meant to catch the dragging hind-legs as they struggled to catch up to its mighty hooves.

    Now it was his turn to charge, practically dragging the mace into an upward swing. The thing wasn''t looking at him, but entirely focused on freeing itself from the painful trap. The swing caught it unawares, smacking the equine snout near-vertical, the strongest he could muster. It was visibly bruised, perhaps the greatest injury it had received in a long while. Its head whipped back to bite at his arm, murder in its eyes, but he was already gone. The mace smacked it once more, this time quite impotently, thrown as he fled. It could only watch as he wheeled around the corner. It threw a fit, beating its hooves on the ground until it finally freed itself. It was bruised, bleeding, and pissed. Incredibly pissed. It watched the ground, finally confident it had broken all of the boney caltrops. In truth, the beast had rampaged its way through every other line, only getting truly ''hooked'' at the last one. It cleared the corner, desperate to see where the ape had fled. It had lost him in the agony, and it couldn''t feel him nowбн

    The General had not fled. He had ducked in that same corner, just around the blind. The mole-taur didn''t have the sort of sight most predators used. Its vision was patently inferior to even his own, necessarily augmented by the vibrations through the ground below. That was why whoever made this maze had made the dirt so malleable, and why it didn''t see him now. He was stock-still, and as its lethal forelegs passed him by, he lunged. He smashed the red crystal into the Eimer Organs as close to the base as he could. The outer feelers were too risky, too mobile. The pain from the impact shocked the creature once-more. It reeled, and even as he started to celebrate the blow and prepare himself for the next step, it swung his tail in a flash.

 004: Ah, wait, what happened to the other one?

    The tail slammed him in his unguarded ribs like a hammer striking Jell-O. He could feel his intestines shaking, and the resistance the right half of his ribcage should have provided was paltry in comparison to the sheer force of the blow.

    The General could not breathe. The terror of being at the mercy of such a large beast took his breath away. That, or the enormous pressure applied straight to the cavity where his lungs dangled. It wouldn''t be easy to breathe or move for a time, and how long, he couldn''t say. The pain was intense, unrelenting. The blow had certainly cracked ribs, possibly several, and he was lucky to be alive at all with his organs smashed the way they were. The angle of the blow had been just severe enough to avoid a total collapse; the thinner extent of the tail thankfully deflected by his other, still unbroken bones.

    The shock and agony had pacified him into contemplation over breathing and ribs and tails, and that wasn''t good. A pause like this in battle was fatal, almost always, but the creature still hadn''t ended him. It took long moments to realize that the Mole-Taur was in just as much pain as he was, possibly perfectly still and contemplating the nature of red crystals and Eimer''s Organs. If he had shaken himself to lucidity, though, shouldn''t it have also recovered? He rolled as hard as he could from his back, dodging away from where the monster was last.

    The motion was barely on-time, and the ground shook from the intense impact of those fatal fore-hooves'' stomp. This was unlike the ones before, an intensity that could only be fueled by a beast forced to a corner. It was furious, desperate, and afraid. That realization would have made him proud if it wasn''t so inconvenient, so terrifying. Everything to this point would be a prelude, and he had already expended his tricks, to a degree. It wasn''t over until the last soldier was dead, though, and if he only had himself to rely on, he would have to make due. In this world, he could not afford to just be a general, some small-timer. If he wanted to make it his playground, the needed to be The General, and The General did not lose. The names that make the history books were that of the unconquerable- whether it was Alexander the Great, Yue Fei, or Alexander Suvorov, they earned their place by being unwilling to fail, no, incapable of failure. They didn''t lose, and certainly not on a battlefield as paltry as this.

    He climbed to his feet, leaning on the wall. It was a tall order to walk at all, but he would fill it. The struggle back down the conjoined hall was almost fatal in and of itself, but he found it lying precisely where he had left it. The Mace. He snapped it up from the floor, tipping over as soon as he left the support of the wall. It was in his hands, but he was vulnerable once more. The beast finally recovered from the last stomp, trailing thick channels of blood from its legs, most especially the one he had crushed with the crystal.

    His head was to the floor, and the angle reminded him of too many horror movies to count. The situation even fit, too, with a badly injured monster hunting down the final survivor of its massacre, prepared to end what it had begun. The pile of bones behind him set the stage for the terrifying finale, even. It wouldn''t be very impressive to be another corpse stacked in a heap, though. It closed the gap, dragging itself close enough for him to grab it with an arm if he so chose. The pain was breathtaking. It hurt, hurt so bad. It all went so fast.

    It roared, lifting itself to prepare the final stomp. As it came down, he lifted the mace from its resting place and set it as upright as he could, pulling his body impotently away from the hooves, while doing so. The shimmy put him just shy of the blow once more, this time so close that the tremors rattled his eardrums. The mace, and his hand holding it, were both smashed under the hoof. He had used his weaker left hand, a sacrifice for the final gambit. The mace did not crumple entirely, though, with the metal bulb entering the tough flesh like a barb. His hand was spared a complete pulping by the little bit of mace-head that stayed outside of the hoof. The pain this time made the last injury feel like a puny little scrape, the feeling of disjointed fingers, ground bones, and torn nerves, and it was just too much. If it were any other time, he was certain that this would be the point at which he just curled into a ball and bawled his eyes out. This wasn''t going to be the end for him, though. It couldn''t be.

    He threw the pain out with his old self, his extraneous feelings, out with the petty concerns of a normal person in a peaceful era. Pain would not serve him. The pain didn''t really go away, but force of will was a potent thing. His brains ignored his wailing nerves and decided to focus on the ordeal ahead. He pulled back further, crawling, hardly able to see through his shaking and tear-stained eyes, but he found the last tool he''d need to end the thing once and for all.

    It was the second column of bone, still perched on the perilously balanced femurs and plate. The Mole-Taur was gaining on him, stumbling along, leaning mostly on its less-injured side. As it loomed over him, now just trying to snap at his neck or back and just end the fight, he pulled the nearest bone away. The collapse was instant, and suddenly, he was buried under pounds and pounds of Ossein and decrepit flesh. So was the beast. It struggled with the new pressure, not quite as powerful or rowdy as before. Surprise wasn''t on his side anymore, but how weak it had grown would have to suffice.

    He dug his way up, ignoring the smell of decay and disgusting matter in contact with anywhere and everywhere he didn''t want it, and began to tear into the beast. He just tore at it. It was bloody, stomach-wrenching, and so impossibly slow with just one hand, but he had teeth. He had legs and teeth and a hand and he used them to pry out all of the soft and squishy bits of the beast and rip and tear and hack and cleave at it from places not so well protected by the thick hide.

    Its thrashing stopped, but he didn''t. He wouldn''t let it go that easily.

    _____

    Getting past the crocodile man had been easily the most dangerous part of her plan. Everything else wasn''t too important, really. The climb down the cliff was therapeutic. She got a little scared when a hand-hold crumbled under her (miniscule) weight, but it was just a scare. A thrill.

    Catarina had always chased thrills. It was her life''s work, from cradle to apparently imminent grave. Those thrills had taken many forms. When she was young, it was little rebellions. Convincing her friends to call her ''Kat'' as short for Catarina when she knew her parents adored the name she gave her. Climbing trees and hopping across the creeks. As she got older, it was running just a bit too freely, dangerously, in the woods, or leaving ''conversations'' with her boyfriend out for her impossibly devout Catholic mother to find, or just finding an excuse to find a bit of danger. She had contemplated picking up drugs or unsavory habits just for the adventure of it, but when she realized that it would limit her freedom in the long-run that thought went down the drain. Not quite with the reasoning her mom would have used, but that was just the destination. It was all about the journey.

    The journey was currently in absolute freefall. She had been taken alone and stripped nude, dropped in with a bunch of people she didn''t know and certainly didn''t want to see naked, or vice-versa. When she realized that there was no one telling her to cover up or even just anything to cover up with, that had excited her a bit and it had been ''OK''. The excitement died fast, though, and the embarrassment won over. She was naked and effectively alone in a group of strangers. Fear was something different, though, and the turbulence of a giant creature that couldn''t get in was nothing compared to the thought of the people they had tossed out. Something like criminals, sure, but death was scary. It was the one adventure she didn''t want to get a head-start on. Even if scaling that magnificent cliff did seem like fun.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    That was the free-fall. Three people dead and gone, everyone just a bit paranoid, and now the people she had just started to really meet were all dead. No one had banded together when it was most necessary. She didn''t, even using a casualty as a springboard for her own escape. Now she was all alone again, and instead of being surrounded by strangers, it was more like being dropped in the midst of the Amazon. She was scaling a cliff down to a place where the apex predator was a hundred meters long and had very, very sharp teeth. It was unlike anywhere she had ever been before.

    The excitement built in her gut as she thought it through, replacing the remorse and fear that had been gnawing at her. She sped up her descent, eager to put the crocodile man far behind her and to see what was hiding below that dense canopy. She moved too fast for the tiny rocks and roots to even consider giving out, revving her inner Jo?o Garcia to an impressive tilt. If thrill-chasing and adventure-seeking did anything, it makes you nimble enough to evade the consequences. Some people would take that training mentally- pathological liars and salesmen, perhaps, but she had taken it in the most literal sense. She had fallen from trees at least five times in the past two years but she hadn''t taken an injury in three.

    Of course, she didn''t want to fall this far. No amount of nimbleness could evade gravity altogether. As fast as she went, it was far from her top speed.

    When she heard the roaring of the crocodile man from the cave she decided that caution was quite overrated. She swore a dozen ways in a dozen languages and practically doubled her pace. By the time the beast made to the cliffs, she was too far down to see. Whatever delayed the beast had bought Kat enough time to evade its detection once more. He wasn''t very pleased with that, tearing his way down the cliff at a precisely inhuman pace. By the time she made it to the tree-tops, the crocodile man had made it half way down. She could hear it now, tearing at the mountain face and bellowing. It hadn''t seen her yet, so she shrunk aside, hoping the little crevice she found would buy her an escape.

    It wouldn''t. He had the ape''s scent-trail and it would not, could not escape him. He tore and tore and roared in his fury and closed the distance one claw at a time. Lizards were quite competent at climbing, and even better at descending.

    Whump.

    Whump was the sound of an impossibly massive snake-beast snapping up a crocodile man in one bite. The thing was silent in its approach compared to his furious descent and it took him in one go. It was certainly large enough, too. A dragon ate him. Kat only caught glances of its tail as it trailed onwards into the distance, along with its snack. She hoped that would be enough to kill the crocodile man, but it was impressively armed and dangerous. Maybe it would cut its way out, like they do in cartoons? She buried that thought and decided to focus on getting away from the improbably large snakes and spear-wielding crocodiles.

    She tipped her way out of the crevice, redoubling her efforts to reach the base. Quickly, the leaves and trunks fell away for the thick foliage of bushes and vines. The first thing that caught her attention was the crisscrossing trails left by the Dragons through the jungle floor. Each of the indents was thoroughly empty of foliage, and she could see quite clearly the innumerable creatures diving from side to side. It was like a verdant city where the cars had all disappeared, jaywalker after jaywalker hurrying from destination to destination. They were of all sizes and shapes, many familiar, and more unfamiliar. Feline beasts were the traffic directors, lumps of muscle that snapped up any animal that leap-frogged or ran or crawled along at the wrong time. Continuing with the analogy, the Dragons would be trucks- or trains.

    The creatures scattered, even the predators, and one of the beasts bowled through at speeds that would make bullet-trains blush. Clearly, the inhabitants had been conditioned to this. The few that didn''t escape the tracks in time were snapped up by the thing''s gaping maw. It was gone as fast as it had arrived, even more calamitous and sudden then they had been on the mountain''s slope. Kat gulped, involuntarily. She wasn''t quite as finely tuned as the animals, and it would be hard enough to evade them. What about the Dragons? She felt nervous, but it faded quickly for another wave of excitement. She had been so close to two of the monsters and she was still alive!

    What if she could ride one? Would it be like a rollercoaster? Could she do it? Would she just go flying, since they go so fast? Would the huge thing even know her tiny self was on-board? It might just feel a gnat and roll over to squish it off, or maybe it would just thrash about and fling her miles into the air. She decided to put that plan on hold for a later date, finishing the descent to the jungle floor. As far as she could tell, the animals were congregated nearer to the road, playing chicken with the Dragons for some odd reason. Perhaps they wanted a residue left behind by the creatures, or the best plants grew nearest to that lane of fertile soil completely unexhausted? In any case, she would have just a bit of reassurance while the Dragons were away.

    Her mother had always loved to weave. When their ancestors had moved to Brasil, they had learned to clean and weave and build and settle, and since then, it had been a tradition. Generation after generation retained bits and pieces of the family''s heritage, but by the modern era- and far from the family''s old lands- only the most basic of basics remained. Kat had never liked any of it, shying away from tradition as a matter of principle, but her mother made her learn to weave anyway. It wasn''t like she''d need it, she said. No one needs to weave, she said. I''d rather learn something more practical, she said. Well, mother knew best. She was stranded in the Stone Age and twine was at least a thousand years away.

    Kat didn''t have the luxury of cleaning and stripping the otherworldly ivy stems, but she would make due. She broke off the biggest leaves she could get from the massive trees and checked them for bugs; she yanked off and snapped the vines away, with great effort, and started to string the leaves through. It took too much concentration to be safe, but thankfully, nothing popped up. With that, she had a simple enough bandeau and skirt. It was a relief to at least have a little bit of coverage for her sensitive bits. Again, any novelty or adventure of going around in the nude wore off too quickly to matter. It was almost more satisfying to be the only civilized human in a world of nudists, she thought.

    The last thing she tried to make were little leaf shoes, but it didn''t work out too well. The leaves were thick enough that they didn''t rip as soon as she made a step, but they wouldn''t help with rocks or sticks or porcupine. She thought that that could avert an unlucky encounter with a deadly insect, though, so she kept them on. She felt a little more human, a little more normal, with the outfit. It wasn''t even too far from something she would have worn back at home.

    It wouldn''t be safe to just sit around and marvel at clothes, though, so she started the trek. Their little group had never seen what was on the other side of the mountain.

    It was time to go pioneering.

    The first stretch went off without a hitch. Kat covered plenty of ground, staying close to the mountain''s steep face, and none of the creatures seemed too keen on leaving the trails. Another Dragon blew past, animals scattering. She continued on her way, careful not to get caught up in the scene again. She stumbled and climbed through the undergrowth and hill, only then realizing the problem. A Dragon went by. The animals didn''t immediately go back, not at all. The realization was late, but it wasn''t too late for her to start scaling her way back up towards the treeline. She could hear the thud of one of the cat-beasts, no doubt hoping to snag Kat when her back was turned. It scrambled up after her, claws scraping dirt and rocks.

    She was fast, but it had gained quite a bit of ground from the leap towards her. Cats were avid climbers. If she were to race it up a tree, it would be her loss every time. This was an eroding mountain-face, though, and it wasn''t built for this sort of diagonal dash. Even still, it snapped at her heels. She finally reached the near-vertical cliff-face, reminiscent of the one that she had climbed down before. Heaving her way up, the first few handholds had a nice surface she could perch in. The cat-beast tried some small leaps, and she kicked at it. That was a mistake. Sure, she had hit it in the nose once, but it had nearly got a hold of her at the angle. Little victories weren''t worth dying over.

    When she stopped kicking, it decided to just chase her up the cliff-face. Kat was caught off-guard, and she had to hustle to get to the next decent platform. She climbed from rock and ledge and root and cliff, until finally, the frustrated creature just gave up. She called and whooped at it, celebrating her triumph. She was raced a massive tiger through an alien jungle and kicking its ass! It was a caliber above any of the petty little adventures she had at home. The bliss of it made the danger feel just a little bit less real.

 005: "Catarina and the Temple of Somewhat Intimidating Rectangles"

    The trek paled in comparison to the destination. If Kat had been excited before, she was practically humming now. Her fancy new clothes were a bit worse for wear, and her shoes were nothing to be spoken of, but she had trailed the mountainside quite some distance all the same. It was an interesting feeling, to be so alone and free. Even if waking up in a new world was neat, she had felt so confined in the cave. Obstacle after obstacle had popped up to limit her, whether it was the crocodile man or the dragons or even just those big cats. She had finally escaped all of that. Learned from each roadblock. She wasn''t hugging the walls, now. An inquisitive mind and some trial and error was all it took to start progressing.

    She had the vague idea of tracking from Bear Grylls and other contrivances. She had never been a fan, though it would have been to her benefit to actually watch more, in retrospect. The only hint it gave her was that she should watch for prints- which wasn''t hard, the cats were probably over a hundred pounds, and it showed. The interesting thing was that it didn''t disturb the plants in the slightest. In fact, the foliage where she found those large pawmarks seemed to be more pristine than the rest.

    The animals avoided the big cats. It was common sense; the only natural predator of the cats would be the massive Dragons, most likely. A unique situation where there were two types of animals at the apex since one was more of a force of nature than a real part of the chain. So, she figured, where better to trek than where no other animal dare tread? She started taking note, paying attention to everything. It was a feeling she hadn''t felt before, like her eyes had suddenly opened. Scratch marks on the trees from where one cat climbed last, or maybe it was just a scratching post. Bushes untouched by herbivores of any kind. Dung trails and those ever-present paws. She was built for this; it was made for her.

    She made much better time after she started traveling proactively. She wasn''t cowering away from the beasts, but more like a predator on the hunt. That thought excited her. It was like she really was back in the Neolithic Age, stalking a Sabretooth Tiger. Kat knew she was being a bit overzealous, though, and it almost bit her in the ass. In the most literal sense possible. She spotted the signs of the big cat she was tracking taking a stop and eating, hidden carcasses and only strange bugs to eat them, a clawed-up tree with a massive low-hanging branch, and the marks from it hopping down. It looked to be walking away, and then turning, and she figured it was to head towards the nearest Dragon track. It took her a moment to realize that it was headed towards the nearer mountain, not the rest of the valley.

    It was making a loop.

    Cats had good senses of smell, and it must have smelled her. She ran for the valley, away from where the prowling cat must have been, and sure enough, her mark bolted after her. The roles were reversed. The run was exhilarating, better than any footrace with a person had ever been. They dodged around trees, over Dragon track after Dragon track, past bemused and confused herbivores and predators alike, up trees, and around brambles. It was tiring, terrifying, and oh so fun. The beast kept pace with her the whole way, probably expecting her to tire and slow down, not overexerting its body. Silly thing, humans are persistence hunters at heart. Just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone.

    Kat had a feeling that it had little to do with her, though. She had run up on something else entirely. It was the destination of her journey, one she didn''t even know she was looking for. Even if the run was exhilarating, this was pure bliss.

    It was a temple unlike any she had ever seen, a massive complex of columns and arches seated on a foundation that she could only describe as ''pure gold''. It shined in the light, almost blinding. Even from a distance, she could tell that it was suited for hundreds of people to gather. She had gone from Catarzan, Jungle-Woman, to Catarina Jones, temple raider. Mass-murder of the only humans she knew of aside, this had to be the best day of her life. It was an actual ancient temple! In the middle of a jungle! And no curators or busybodies to tell her what not to touch!

    Still, Kat was wary. The catbeast had left for a reason. Was it booby-trapped, or guarded by real live ancient people? Was there a huge monster caged inside? She wouldn''t know until it was probably too late to tell. This was the first sign of indigenous life, though, and it needed to be explored. That was the sane and reasonable excuse for her absolute obsession with the adventure she''d undertake. It wouldn''t be a good idea to tell whoever or whatever she found that she was hoping for spike-traps and big monsters, after all. The plants thinned out as she approached the glittering dais.

    It felt darker than the jungle had been even though Kat knew such a thing was impossible. The atmosphere and special effects department was busy, she mused. It was more impressive with every step, and although it couldn''t compare to the modern era''s great works, it was mindboggling to think that someone had made it in the middle of a jungle like this. The golden surface of the sides was thankfully capped with less radiant marble, and she quickly found stairs to climb and enter the main platform.

    It had innumerable monoliths spiraling out from the apparent center of it, obsidian contrasts to the pearly white of the floor below. It was a checkerboard of walls through which she couldn''t quite see what was hiding inside. As she walked through them, flowing between the cracks and openings, waves of nausea wove their way through her body, weakening her. She nearly fainted from exertion, and she had only walked a quarter of the way to the center at best. It felt the same way to walk back to where she had come from, and that told her it was no accident. The structure was doing this to her, somehow. That was scary. Was this the trap? Some strange optical illusion with this much potency? It only made her dizzy when she followed the monoliths in their spiral, so instead of passing through them, she followed the trail back out. To her surprise, it didn''t even seem to take longer than going through the cracks. How odd. Exactly what you would expect from a mystical ancient temple! Huzzah!

    She had to take a break to get her brain sorted and probably do her business in the safe, animal-free zone about the temple and maybe try to catch some food to eat. Kat hoped it would rain soon, since she didn''t have the cave''s streams anymore. It wouldn''t be heroic to soil the temple, and it would be just as bad to die of dehydration trying to navigate it. To her surprise, the food part was easy. After tracking the big cat for so long, she didn''t seem to have much trouble getting used to trailing the rabbit-like creatures. The animals clearly hadn''t adapted to active hunting, probably due to the strange focus on the Dragon tracks. She caught one quickly, but killing it and eating it raw was a struggle- so much so that she didn''t do it. She went off to figure out how to start a fire, first, and that took ages. To her chagrin, rain-clouds had finally appeared overhead. Not unexpected for a luscious rainforest like this, but still a pain when you had just figured out what sticks were the most flammable or dry and what rocks could make sparks. She had to hustle to find one of the little herbivores again, and she only got it half cooked and stripped by the time it started raining.

    It was chewy, uncomfortable in her stomach, and generally unpleasant. Not Kat''s finest meal, although it was the first she had prepared entirely on her own. She thought about home. Were they worried? Had they been taken, too, or was everything still fine? When would she see her mom again? The rain evidently brought in the somber thoughts, but her body was wasting away. She couldn''t sit and mope. That was for teens, and she was no teen- she was an adventurer! A real adventurer in the middle of a real rainforest!

    Something that had bothered her all along was the stunning lack of rivers. That was completely unlike the Earth, and she hadn''t been sure why. When she saw the impossibly fast moving water in the Dragon tracks and the army of animals peaceably assembled to drink, it made more sense. The rain collected in these infinite flumes crisscrossing the jungle and presumably gave the Dragons a drink, too, wherever they hid in wait. It was like a river-sized water fountain for the giant reptiles, and all of the other animals were just mooching. Naturally, some of the predators took advantage of the situation. In particular, she saw one little beast darting in and out of the water. It kept snagging at the thirst land-dwellers as it flowed past, eventually catching one of the same creatures like she ate with its razor-sharp teeth. The poor thing thrashed and thrashed, but the river took them away too fast for her to see what happened.

    This had been going on for a very, very long time. She couldn''t hope for another chance. She''d have to get in there with the little terror-beasts, the cats, the agitated herbivores, and stick her face in. How exciting was that? Definitely more interesting than faucets and bottles. Like bobbing for apples, except the apples are face-eating turtles. She hurried along, hoping to catch a space before more of the cats showed up, especially the one she had already pissed off. It was so cool to see them all close up, drinking together in relative peace. The rain left as fast as it came, and just as she finally felt whole and hydrated again, the Dragon track started to bottom out. All bets were off at that point, and she scattered with the rest of the ''prey''. Granted, she had probably earned her place with the catbeasts, but she doubted they would take her.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The temple was even more exciting on a full stomach. She could go in for two whole days and not even leave and still be good for more. She broke through the first gap, staggering a bit, and then followed the spiral inwards. In just a short time, she found her way to the center. It wasn''t quite what she expected. Rather than a massive underground hidey-hole for treasure, it was more of a declined platform with strange squiggles all around it. It was like an altar, with the squiggles spiraling towards the lowest point in the middle of the depression. A little pedestal- treasure? - was just sitting in the middle, with a decidedly modern symbol atop it. It was a line and a mostly complete circle, with the line positioned atop the open circle but not penetrating it. She decided not to think too much about that symbolism and instead hopped down to get a closer look. The line was on a sliding plate, meant to be pulled down into the circle, completing the symbol. No matter how hard she yanked at it or pushed it or tapped it, the thing just wouldn''t move. Kat had never been good at puzzles, and for such a grand altar to have a little thing like this in the center was a huge bummer. The monoliths were so exciting, too, what with their strange effects on the brain. Come to think of it, a certain archaeologist always did have to figure out some obtuse puzzle to get to the cool stuff.

    She tinkered with it, and tweaked it, and nothing. A complete bust. At least it would be somewhere safe to eat or hide, she thought. As she turned around and hopped back to the main platform, the symbols on the floor began to glow. Kat nearly shouted from surprise, or joy, and she just caught a glimpse of the plate sliding itself into place. The symbol was complete. The pedestal slammed down into the ground, and the whole assembly started to spin. She hopped down, rolling about on the little bowl as it spun. It was like a rollercoaster, almost. She didn''t know how she set it off, or what it was doing, but this was at least a little bit neat. Just a bit.

    The glowing intensified, and suddenly, it fizzled. The spinning halted so fast that Kat hit her head on one of the circular walls around the altar. Thankfully, it wasn''t too serious, but she kind of regretted just hopping down on a moving platform. She scrambled up, balancing precariously on the platform. It''s much harder to stand on a declined surface when you''re dizzy, after all. The squiggles changed color. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, or at least not without complex electronics to back it up. They just turned a deep blue, gently glowing. The platform didn''t start spinning.

    The squiggles did, though. They practically floated across the marble. It took her a moment to realize that they had aligned into letters, then words, and then a spiraled sentence, like that on a coin.

    "Anyone can fight a minotaur- only a human is stupid enough to try to win."

    Whatever that meant. It didn''t seem too relevant to her, but the sudden talk of Minotaurs put her on guard. She backed further away from the dais, hunkering down in case something tried to leap at her.

    It started with the floor. It was disgusting apparition of flesh, muscle, forming the feet and eventually toes. It had some strange form of gray hide around the legs, contrasting the human-like feet. Her mother had described the Adamastor once, an old tale of the New World by a poet long gone, but could this creature fit the bill? It was certainly pale and definitely appearing from the air. The materialization kept going, though, from legs to thighs and to boyparts she didn''t think to describe in detail. It was still covered in that terrible hide, and an intense measure of blood, to the degree that she had never seen before. It had a club for one fist and bloody claws for the other, and its back was poked through with a litany of knives and swords. It was certainly a monster, she thought. But as the materialization continued, reaching the head, she figured out what it was- and who.

    This was no monster, at least not likely. She recognized this one. It was a boy, one of the people from the cave, and evidently still alive. He was covered in blood, cloaked in a shoddily wrapped, sticky hide, and terribly worse for ware, but he was human. Probably. He looked as shocked to see her as she was to see him, but before she could speak up, she realized that the blue squiggles were still moving. She had missed a message or two in the distraction, and now they said something else entirely.

    "You are most likely alone. They only take us one or two at a time. It''s risky, after all."

    These ancient guys sure were longwinded, but they were quite wrong. It hadn''t been one or two, but thirty, and risky for whom? They had all died. Maybe he meant that only one or two would be left. She snapped her attention back to the boy, who was actually still dripping blood. It was fresh. Yuck. He opened his mouth to speak, and she stopped shrinking back so much, tuning in.

    "General are dead, triumph, with nothing is impossible to him who try," he said, grinning, "I you are alright, yes? Visions without hallucination are justбн" The boy trailed off, evidently trying to make sense of what he just said. He beamed for a moment, probably catching his own train of thought long before Kat even had a chance to guess at what he meant. She gawked, returning to her wary jungle-woman posture. He was off his rocker! And not in the fun, go-have-adventures way! So she waited and watched to see what he would do.

    He tipped over. That wasn''t quite what she had expected. She ran to the boy, and then she checked him over in entirely relevant and non-perverted ways. Stripping him was definitely part of the job. The swords and knives weren''t poked in his back, but rather in the hide, and he was using it like a big sheath. She could only wonder, then, what gave him all those bruises. He was bleeding to death, but it was all internal, not external. She struggled to remember what they said in basic first aid, and came up short. Internal bleeding was quite unlike anything she knew how to deal with.

    It made a lot more sense when she saw his swelling, terribly broken, entirely untreated hand. She had mistaken the wrappings for a club, and it was still so bloated. She ran off, barely remembering to follow the spiral, and got what she could from the environment. Tying the wounded part of the arm off was the first step, she figured, but it wasn''t a professional job. At least it would keep him ''OK'' for awhile. She couldn''t think of what to do for his bruised-up chest, either, but that was secondary to the mangled hand.

    She couldn''t feed him, and it didn''t look like it would rain anytime soon. The only other surviving human was bleeding out of the floor and loopy and she couldn''t do anything to fix it.

    In her panic, she had forgotten the scribbles. She stood, taking them all in. It didn''t make too much sense, though, and she wished it would tell her what was going on.

    "Allegiance. That''s how we compete, aside from our rugged good looks. We''re social animals."

    How strange. Working in groups was good, but why would it matter now? A boy was dying, damnit. Kat stomped a bit in frustration, but the words were resolute.

    "Everything here has a way to win, and that''s ours. Be territorial. Trust yourself."

    It was moving faster now, no longer sarcastic and serious, almost excited.

    "This is the legacy of mankind. Faith in yourself,"

    The glowing intensified, and the blue was positively radiant.

    "We are unbeatable as long as we know what is ours and who is relying on us."

    Now the text was whirling, a furious cyan she could hardly read.

    "That''s what we are. That''s why we are. It''s why they''re afraid of us."

    It fizzled again, but even as it started to fade, the whole point of the message started to dawn on her.

    "Even if it''s just you, stake your claim on this stupid planet. It''s your only chance."

    Kat had never been so certain of herself. She hadn''t been a real adventurer, or a tracker, or so daring as to even think about racing with catbeasts. This place was a strange mash of creatures, it had crocodile men and crazy teens and she was taking it all in stride. Who was the? This wasn''t the little girl she had been back home, the contrarian ''adventurer''. She had really done some crazy shit and just taken it in stride. Kat wasn''t being Kat, and that kid apparently fought a Minotaur, that twig of a boy. Sure, he was beaten to hell, but was that really something they could do?

    This place had done something to them, flipped a switch. When she ''relied'' on herself, when she had ''claimed'' the Jungle, she had come out unscathed. It was too close for comfort, sure, but that was her, the Adventurer extraordinaire. Of all of the crazy things the boy said before the passed out, ''General'' was the strangest, but it suddenly made sense. He was the General, right? That was just who he was. Who he could be, if he was given the chance.

    Who needed formal education, anyway? Kat was an adventurer, and adventurers never left a companion behind. She shot to the woods, doing what felt right to her, what had to be right, absolute confidence in her abilities. She dodged and ducked through each little crevice to get the plants she''d need. This one she had seen an injured catbeast eat to stem the bleeding, this one was safe and it was popular with the herbivores, this one was left untouched except by the animals that were thirsty. Things she saw and knew but didn''t even know she had forgotten; it was a total recall. The moment her mind drifted, it started to fade, so she didn''t let it drift. Kat wasn''t going to let that boy slip away so easily.

    What was the point of an adventure if you had it alone?

 Devoid of Man: Interlude 1

    "You did what? What precisely, did you do? Say it again." I said, scowling.

    "I found a completely isolated, untapped world that had already achieved Stellar-class dominance of their domain, so I released it. What''s the problem with that? Shouldn''t I be getting rewarded right around now?" the apprentice said. My scowl deepened to something between murder and manslaughter, but I had to hold back. Regardless of if the kid had doomed us all, and had the gall to be snotty about it, he hadn''t known. He couldn''t have. By all measures he should have, but it had been so long since we had last needed their ''services''. The rumors were merely gone, so what would a young one like this know?

    "They were the third to emerge", I said. "Just the third, and yet they were locked in there for so long. Why do you think that is?"

    He blanched white. It wouldn''t do to just let him think the danger stopped there, though.

    "They are Agent 3. There was never a ''special weapon'', just them. It''s always just been them," I said.

    The apprentice fell to the floor, the horror of it all dawning on him. I started to leave, but the kid grabbed at the tail of my robe. It was misconduct that would typically result in severe punishment, but all things considered, it would be hard to find a punishment more damning than his mistakes. "What''s their augment? What have I done?" He said, already in tears. I shook my head. "That''s just it, isn''t it? When I was little, all those years ago, we used to tell stories of them to children to scare them into behaving. They don''t get a real augmentation. It''s just an itty bitty tweak to their brain. That''s all." I placed as much emphasis as I could on that last word.

    I left them to mull over what had happen, to head to organize an emergency response team. It wouldn''t do to delay, especially since there was no way of knowing if they got dumped into a real-time world. The only real shot we''d have at containment would be a very, very early extinction or a desperate bid for diplomacy.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Perhaps it wouldn''t be so bad. The few of the creatures I met over the years weren''t as violent or unfeeling as some people made them out to be. I shivered uncontrollably. The nature of a Wolfman was to hunt, and so it did. What, then, was the nature of a Human? Why did they create such chaos?

    ___

    Rebeca had spent every night in tears since her daughter had been taken. That was what it was, a taking, a theft. She had considered more drastic things than crying at first. She had been so certain that she chased her little girl away with just being too strict, too mean, of not being a good enough mother. It wasn''t until the news began running reports of sudden and unusual disappearances all across the planet that she had finally put two and two together.

    In the modern era, it was so strange to see anyone disappear, let alone hundreds of people. In all, it looked to total something like 352, although most estimated 360, since they seemed to go in sets of 30. It was a hot topic, an oddity, the newest thing on TV. Shows based on what was happening, commentary by scientists, theorists questioning the causes and the destination and never ceasing to shout about the aliens.

    For Rebeca, it was just a tragedy, and one hammered into her from all sides. Without the guilt, it wasn''t so tragic, but she still just wished her daughter could be home. That her daughter could be safe, again, with her. That wherever she was, that her darling Catarina was happy and healthy and not dead or dissected. Just in case, she kept her favorite pie slow-cooking in the oven, something to welcome her back from wherever she had gone. That was her resolve, her bit of hope. Life continued, but she wouldn''t let it leave Catarina behind. Even if it was quite expensive to keep baking new pies, and even if she was picking up a bit of weight from it.

    She would do anything for her little girl, anything to have her back.

 006: Meet-and-greets are great for wayward youths.

    The General woke up in a great deal more pain than when he fell asleep. He wasn''t sure if that was a bad thing or not, though, truth be told. The pain meant lucidity, and that everything was working, give or take. In the hours it took to reach the center of the maze and shove that massive stone into place, he had been quite certain that the bleeding would take him. That he would just keel over and die, right there. Thankfully, he had done it; he had persevered through the last challenge of that stupid cave. He was rewarded with a free relocation to this fancy temple, apparently.

    A temple to which he was tied. Thick, mostly green vines were wrapped around his chests and arms, forming a basic loop that bound him to one of the many marble columns. He could break out of it given time and sufficient energy, but that wasn''t a good idea. If the amazon that had bound him to this pillar was coming back, she''d be even more wary if she saw him escape on his own. That gave him time to go down the checklist. His poorly cut and wrapped Mole-taur clothes had been trimmed and laced through with similar rope to the kind tying him to the pillar. The knives were nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected. As long as they weren''t gone forever, he''d have a solid supply of weaponry. It was often necessary in battle to drop or leave a weapon behind, so spares were a must.

    He tried not to pay attention to the fact that a cute indigenous girl had also evidently stripped him. It was a bit too embarrassing to even think about. To his surprise, he realized that he even had the capacity to be embarrassed again. That was quite un-General-like. Perhaps it had just been the danger spurring him on? In any case, he now had workable clothes tied to him, rather than just sticking to him with blood-paste. That was thankful enough. He realized that his hand, still throbbing, was in much better shape.

    It was undeniably broken, but the bones were in some semblance of where they should have been, and the swelling had dropped enough that he could even tell where the knuckles had rolled or the carpals had snapped. It''d need to be rebound if he hoped to move safely- any touch would send roiling agony through him- but it would do, for now. He was just glad that it was his left hand, and not his right. In any case, the amazon was clearly treating him. He was treated, but he was not trusted. So they want to trust him, but they couldn''t until he was awake? Was that it? What a strange situation.

    He didn''t feel quite as thirsty as he did before, either. It had only just occurred to him that he may have spent days in his escape without even realizing it when he stopped being hydrated enough to think straight. It was dumb luck that he had even survived that, really. Internal bleeding had taken quite a few unsuspected soldiers through-out history, especially before they had figured out how to deal with it. It was quite impressive that he had been brought back this far, almost as thoughбн

    The girl came back. He recognized her now. She was one of the thirty people who had been dumped in the cave with him, and it had been awhile since they had even interacted. They were both fairly recluse, after all. He had spent time in the caves to find an escape route and locate resources, while she spent time in other caves to do something or another. He had never really found out. They just didn''t mingle much. He wished he had, now, considering that she had saved him, and also the fact that she actually looked better in clothes than naked.

    The amazon impression he had gotten when he was delirious made a lot more sense, now. She had fashioned clothes for herself out of the massive leaves the trees had in the distance, the twine that she had used for his ropes, and she had impressive muscles. They weren''t massive, but in the light of day, they were certainly visible. The thin, lithe muscles, trailing all the way up her legs and down her arms and like a flash, the embarrassment came back. He cursed silently, swearing at the other him who could tear a monster limb from limb without even retching and who had apparently receded to the back of his brain. When she saw that he was awake, she dropped aside the things she had been holding.

    He tried to speak, but the girl beat him to it. "Are you sane?" she said. "I really hope you''re sane. Too much work saving you if you''re looney."

    Okay, so she wouldn''t be so hard to deal with. If she was actually good at this whole ''socializing'' thing, he would have been around her pinkie in a heartbeat.

    "I''m sane. Promise. Where are my knives?" he said, trying not to sound too anxious. She scowled, eyeing him up and down. "What sort of sane person wakes up tied to a column and asks their captor for weapons?" He had to grunt at that. "The kind who can feel his arms again."

    She rocked back a little, much less intent and back out of his personal space. She was a bit jittery, maybe a little too excited to actually have real banter with someone her age for the first time in god knows how long, and it showed. He tried to avoid the annoying whisper that told him to keep asking for his weapons back and focus on convincing her he was, in fact, sane. All in good time.

    "I''m the General. I don''t think I ever got your name?" She laughed a bit, turning back to the objects. They were quite mysterious. The first was a clearly dead animal, something like a rabbit mixed with a hamster. It was adorable, or it would be, if it wasn''t so smelly. A skunk-rabbit? Skabbit? Losing his mind had further damaged his already questionable naming sense, apparently. "My name''s Catarina. You can call me Kat." She said, ducking to strike together two of the other objects. Too his surprise, one was a massive bug. It was a six-legged creature with an impressively long torso, and it had either died or went into shock. She struck it against a shiny, green rock a few times, and suddenly, it burst into flame. The bug started writhing, coming out of its comatose state. She dropped it on the pile, hurriedly, and he realized that the rest was all a mixture of strange plants and fire-wood. "I had hoped you would be awake," she said, "Force-feeding people is so much harder than you would think. You nearly died."

    She hurriedly stripped the thing of its nastiest bits with a level of precision that could only impress him. It was disgusting, sure, but it was still a feat of skill. Talent must be respected. It took him a moment to realize that she had just admitted to nearly choking him to death, but all things considered, he wrote it off. When she finished setting it up to grill, he started again. "Can you untie me now? This is actually pretty uncomfortable." She worked and mulled it over and then walked to the other side of the pillar. The ropes fell away. "Welcome to the land of the living, ''General''. Man, is that really your name?"

    The General shrugged. "It is now, at least." She nodded. "I''m going to call you Gennie." He gawked at that. "Call me what?"

    "Is Gennie no good? Gen, then? No way I''m calling you "General" left and right. It''d be like a bad war movie." Gen- no, the General scowled. "I happen to quite like bad war movies." She laughed. He was serious, but maybe it would be better to just play it off. He wasn''t sure why the nickname was bothering him so much, though. It was a silly name to begin with, wasn''t it? It was hard, but he managed to pull himself together and get a move on. First things come first. He re-wrapped his hand; the part of the hide he had used to cover it had been set just out of sight, and set to fixing up his strange little jacket. All the while, the girl kept working on the meat. It was actually starting to look like it was going to taste good. How long had he been out, exactly?If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The biggest concern was their next plan of action, anyway. The temple was neat, but they couldn''t just stay here forever, especially if the animals might attack at any moment. Kat was more reluctant. She insisted that a ''magical wizard shield'' was keeping the animals out, and that they could abuse that fact until he healed most of the rest of the way up. Gen wasn''t going to argue. He had, after all, just been teleported from a murderous labyrinth all the way to this temple. He couldn''t even see the cave-mouth on the mountainside, anymore. It amazed him that Kat had even made it this far. The Dragons that coasted by every so often were terrifying enough, he couldn''t even imagine what else hid in the brush.

    After all, they still hadn''t figured out where the lizard man came from. He was huge, well-equipped, and properly genocidal. "Hey, about the big lizard," he said.

    "Yeah, the crocodile man", Kat said quite emphatically. Gen- the General didn''t have much room to argue. ''Crocodile Man'' was a campy, B-movie grade name for a bad guy, but ''big lizard'' wasn''t any better. "Where did he come from?" he said. Kat shrugged. "I didn''t see them on the quest down to here. It''s pretty strange, really." He sat up. For some reason, that fact was really bothering him. If there was no crocodile men army, or no crocodile man village, then where had it come from? More importantly, how had it found him?

    "Kat, I don''t know if we can stay here," Gen said. She suddenly snapped to attention, a strange movement for someone who was always so fluid, so very much in movement. "Who''s saying that, Gen?"

    That was confusing. It was him, wasn''t it? He blinked a few times. "Me, of course," he said, but even before he got through the ''of'', she was already cutting him off. "You missed it when you were delirious. This place is doing something to us. The temple made it sound more like we were being set free, actually," she said. "So, who''s saying it? Gen? Or would it be ''The General''?"

    "Why would it matter?" Gen said, groaning. "Even if I''m going to acknowledge a split personality or whatever all of the sudden, they''re both me. And they both are wary of the fact that the big- the crocodile man found us, in the middle of a dangerous jungle, in a recluse cave." She blinked. "I didn''t mean a split personality, man. It''s not like that." Kat patted his shoulders, and pointed to the floor. She mimicked an overblown, sagely voice that could only be described as ''Gandalf, but squeakier'', and said "Faith in yourself, and stake your claim, the legacy of mankind!" She coughed. "Or something like that. My memory isn''t the best. Just pretend this temple is your home and have utter faith in your abilities."

    He groaned again, this time with added emphasis. "I''m trying, so just trust me," he said. Wasn''t he already having ''faith in himself''? What sort of stupid superpower was that? He really, really hoped that wasn''t all he had to work with. When he actually did believe it, that the temple was his turf and that he was the unconquerable General, he felt different. More detached. More observant. He could feel eyes crawling up and down his back like spider. When he spun around, there was no one watching, but he could still feel them, the unerring gaze of someone, somewhere. They had been watched.

    "Hey, we''re going with that whole ''magic'' thing, right? What are the odds they can use it to spy on us?" He said. Kat contemplated for a moment, and then shrugged. "When you put it like that? I don''t think any odds in the world could save us from the shit hand we''ve been dealt." She handed him one of the little cooked creature''s thighs, expecting him to eat. It was hard enough to eat around her, as awkward as he was, and harder with the army of eyes on his back. ''No,'' he realized, ''it isn''t. A General is always confident.'' And so he was. The taste was actually quite good. He nodded, gratified. "What did you do to get it like this? It''s so tender." She pointed back to the fire, smiling. "Some of the plants burned seemed to smoke out some flavor, and the meat''s already fairly high quality, for such a little creature. Thanks."

    The meal was short- it had to be, between the limited portions and the fact that they had to ditch the temple as fast as possible. Every day, every hour he had been out, the crocodile men had been getting closer and closer. He shook off the worries. They were two highly-trained soldiers, why would they lose to some big lizards? Not a problem. Gen groaned. He could really use some highly trained soldiers right now. No matter how much he had faith in his ability to conjure an army from the air, though, nothing happened. Whatever was happening to them, it wasn''t quite so potent.

    He liked to think he was intimidating, what with his knives and his cave-man attire. Now that he was out of that damned maze, things were almost exciting, as long as he ignored the fact that his parents were dead and he was so far from home. The excitement and sudden, gut-wrenching mourning alike were suppressed remarkably quickly, he mused. Only time would tell if it made him a better person, or just a more effective one. Kat was a whole different beast. She was unarmed, but visibly raring to go. He had once been to a dog park when he was young. The biggest take-away he had from it was the pure violence of the pets while they were leashed, their desperation to be freed and join the rest of the pack.

    She had seemed so reluctant, before, but now she was tense and primed to bolt. What did that make her? If he was ''The General'', was she ''The Sprinter''? Gen shook his head, that title was too silly to be right.

    Kat was staring at him, but when he met her eyes, she started to move. In an impressively graceful motion, she strode to the edge of the dais and dropped from the side. He had to hurry to catch up, and by the time he lowered himself to the ground, she was at the cusp of the jungle.

    "I, uh, you''re going to have to go a bit slower," he said. "I''m not quite sure how you''re doing that, but I''ve never been a runner." She turned, a little bit frustrated. He put up his hands in a placating gesture. "I''ll try to follow along as best I can, but it''s not going to be easy. It''d be better if we stuck together, wouldn''t it?" He said.

    Kat seemed to agree with at least that much. "I''m sure I can keep myself safe in here, but if you lose the trail and I lose you, it''s going to be a pain," she said. "Have faith in me."

    Gen caught up, but it took way more effort than it felt like it should have. Maybe he was just tired? "What do you mean, exactly?" He said. "That''s the trick to it, apparently. I have to be confident that I''m amazing at this, and then you have to believe in that, and I''ll find a path we can both take," she turned quite suddenly, following a path that apparently only she could see, "or something like that. I''m still a bit too fuzzy on the whole thing myself."

    The whole ''have faith'' thing felt so much more right when he was in charge, when he was leading. Every army had reconnaissance after all, and what would be the point if he didn''t use them? Especially if they were as eminently competent as Kat seemed to be. Although the occasional branch smacking him was annoying, they hadn''t run into any animals, and they seemed to be covering ground at an astonishing pace for a jungle. He had read into some accounts of Vietnam, and man, was this a breeze in comparison. It was almost like having a local navigator. A bit too much like that, in fact. At this point, though, he had to resolve to the fact that something strange was going on with the two of them. Not trusting anyone is far more dangerous than being too trusting. Still, he had to run through the facts.

    Kat quite hoped the boy behind her wouldn''t notice how hard deciding the trek actually was. He hung a bit behind, and seemed too concentrated on her- the sleaze- to notice how risky the last stretch was. They were two meals in a jungle and covering ground fast enough to catch the creatures that she was abusing for safe passage. She had spent a few hours playing cat and mouse with the catbeasts while Gen was still out cold, trying to figure out a smell or animal that could ward them off. She had nearly lost toes on multiple occasions, but it had paid off. The biggest tip-off was the temple. It didn''t have the dense growth of the jungle at all, with the plants thinning out into the grassy plain it sat in- a grass that was quite uncommon everywhere else. Sure enough, most of the animals despised it. Whoever made the temple didn''t use some animal warding after all, just a good old fashioned repellant. She promptly decided that working some into her outfit and taking a handful would be a generally good idea.

    Still, sheneededthe catbeast''s sensitive nose towin out over their hungry guts each and every time. By this point, they were being tailed by four of the things, waiting for that horrid odor to fade enough for the two big hairless meals to enter their grasp. Kat was certain she would be fine- she had plenty of practice. Her companion? Not so much. Better to just let him believe they were safe and sound; worrying him would only slow them down.

    She only had to hope that it would never get to that point, and everything would be completely fine.

 007: Catfight.

    Kat was alive. She was already the most active person he had ever known, but this was something else. The longer they were blazing through the jungle, the more she flowed from bush to tree to the ground and back again. It was a dance to a tune only she could hear, and it took visible restraint from her to let him keep up at all. Gen had thought that it would only slow her down at first, but when she started to speed up? That had floored him.

    They were making good time. Where to, neither of them knew, or cared. It had been a pretty unanimous decision. Anywhere at all would probably be safer than somewhere the enemy had already tracked them to. Sure, it was just based on his suspicions, but it made sense anyway. The trip was fun, anyway. Almost like a wildlife safari. They didn''t see animals until they crossed the Dragon''s trails, where they apparently spent most of their time. That, or Kat had steered them clear of the rest. It wasn''t easy to say one way or another.

    It was starting to bother him that he had escaped from an actual maze with an actual Minotaur and he hadn''t gotten anything out of it. Alright, it was a strange mole-horse hybrid, but it was still deadly. The small army of skeletons proved that much. He hadn''t even got to read the message apparently left for him, on account of the fact that he had been nearly dead at the time. Usually you were supposed to at least get a treasure, weren''t you? Some sort of reward? He had never been too interested in games, but this had to be straight out of one.

    He could take his wandering thoughts to mean that the General had indeed vacated the premises. Gen had a hard time justifying a leisurely tour through the Jungle in the context of a domineering and exceptional commander, and that was a problem. The rules were fuzzy, and from what he had gleaned over their ongoing (awkward, out-of-breath) conversation, Kat hadn''t even got all of it. They just did these crazy things. He didn''t feel any different; to the contrary, when he was lucid, he felt exceptionally normal. That was a bit concerning. With the long list of traumas he''d been through, a hardened veteran would probably be crying for meds and a Spa day.

    His hand still hurt. He just didn''t care. Every moment he spent pouring over great memories he had back home with his totally ordinary and still-living family? Tragic, but it didn''t matter. That was what multiple personality disorder was for, wasn''t it? If his own ''personality'' was like this, assuming he hadnбпt been subsumed already, what was the point of the General? That gave him something to think about. Anything to distract himself from the way his legs were lecturing him. He needed to stop soon, quite possibly an hour before really, but he just hated to stop Kat when she was on a roll like this. Besides, he was much better rested over-all. Why should he slow them down so much?

    The entourage was neat. They were impressive creatures, something he could only see in a zoo, or maybe a history book. They were big cats, what with their arched, muscular backs and strong anterior muscles, but their snouts were unlike any he had seen on a cat before. Rather than the stout look he had associated with felines, it was long, like a dog''s. The eyes were a half measure out from the ears and the nose another measure out from the eyes, with the snarling mouths tracing all the way back to the eyes. He had seen an alligator open its mouth before, and man, was this familiar. The wildlife in this place was positively fascinating, a real treat. It got boring seeing the same old animals over and over again. Wasn''t that why people liked studying fossils?

    ''Oh'', Gen thought, ''I can hear the music.''

    "Kat! We''ve got company!" He shouted, doubling and redoubling his pace. Suddenly his legs didn''t feel so sore. He scanned the surroundings, looking for a decent escape route. They were outnumbered at least two to one, if not worse. It only took him moments to dig a one of the daggers out of his shirt, an impressive feat. A scabbard would still be far more dignified, and perhaps more accessible to his one-handed nature. He had to get one fashioned one later. Perhaps from these creatures'' pelts?

    Kat swore under her breath, and then when she turned and saw how much the troupe was gaining on them, quite audibly. She dropped the handfuls of skunk-grass and started to really focus on moving. Gen would have to do the brunt of the ''escaping'', but if she could just get to a better positionбн

    Naturally, all the General saw was his compatriot promptly abandoning the fight. It was with the deserters, wasn''t it? He snarled, throwing himself to the side, leveraging the motion and the nearest of the beast''s eagerness to impale it on the pointy end. It dug to the hilt, puncturing at least the thing''s pectoral muscles, if not its trapezius. He let go of the knife, as swiftly as he could. The beast half landed on him, shocked. It was still alive, although he could rectify that. He pushed it off enough to wrench up his back, taking another dagger- this time a Main-Gauche! Brilliant! His main droite would have to do, though. He shoved it as deeply as he could into the downed beast''s neck, yanking it out as quickly as he could. The muscles were reluctant to let go of their new houseguest, but with some effort, the straight-edged dagger bit free, and so he stabbed again. This time, the thing reeled, and fell still. He had hit his mark, the alligator-cat-thing''s spinal column, as well as a number of probably necessary fleshy bits. He let go of the sharp little dagger, pulling for the next one in his little arsenal.

    Everything moves, and everything goes. The pack broke formation around the time one of the apes launched itself into their hunting-mate, but it reformed just as quickly. The last act of the poor soul had been to land on the deadly little beast. They would be fools to lose that advantage, to let it go free, especially now that it was so evidently, so visibly lethal. It yanked spine after deadly spine from its back, and the faster they ganged up on it, the sooner the risk would be gone. The mistake had already been made, but to fool the prowl twice was impossible.

    So the creatures closed. The ape stabbed itself twice into their comrade, killing it outright, but they had closed the gap. As it reached for its next spine, they all spiraled in from their trapper''s formation. By the time it had the next one out, they were within snapping distance. It waved it around futilely when it saw them encroach, but that would be no deterrent. With three, how could it possibly survive? They would have the meal they sought, one way or another.

    The General couldn''t help but shrink back. The animals had started nipping at him from all sides. Their relative size and long snout made ''nipping'' far more intimidating than it should have been. They were still wary of this dagger, which was nearly sword sized really, so he had some time. His plans would have to be executed in one go.

    They each took turns startling the creature, waiting for it to make a false move. With luck, no one would even risk injury. A perfect catch to mourn their lost comrade over. They bit at it, never close enough to give it a good shot, and never so carelessly as to let it predict their coming or going, and the thing seemed to lose track of them quite quickly. It just waved the blade aimlessly, as though to ward them all away. It never took action, though, no desperate lunge or distraction. That was worrying. Idiocy could be mistaken for brilliance, so they couldn''t stay so passive.

    They all tensed, in perfect union. Just as they prepared to jump, the aimless swinging suddenly turned to a purposeful toss. The creature had snapped one of them over the snout with the sharp spine, thin red line welting on its nose, but it was of no importance. The spent projectile clattered to the floor, and it was disarmed once more. It was just the futile gesture of dying prey. Then, even mid-lunge, it pulled itself aside from them, shimmying the body strewn across it further up its body. The two of them sunk jowl-deep into flesh, but not the strange gray flesh of the general, but of their own kind. The only one who would so easily bite the vile thing was distracted by the little trail of blood rolling down its mouth. A rumble erupted from the three, unanimously.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    The growling wasn''t as effective as it should have been. The General would not be dissuaded from action so easily. Clausewitz had always been adamant in the dangers of timidity, and he couldn''t fail his learnings now. Not with his career, his men on the line. The plan had been to distract the lone feline to his right, use the corpse to shield from the two in a group, and to find his footing before they could really react. So far, it had gone quite well, but the one he bopped on the nose with the blade had recovered so quickly, quite unlike most of the felines of his homeland. It finally finished its pounce, lunging for him. It was all he could do to get his chest and one good arm free enough to try to catch it.

    The beast was heavy. He had kept is (somewhat stubby) forelimbs from sinking into his neck or stomach, but he had probably dislocated the right hand to do it, and now his already broken left was bearing the entire weight of the corpse- and the two creatures caught flesh-deep within it. Their snubby necks and long snouts weren''t well suited for biting him over the body, but they were getting perilously close. The situation wasn''t tenable, which is why he desperately worked to kick out at the dead body with his knees and lower leg. With some effort, he got his hand free, clubbing the angry one hanging on his good hand over the head.

    It must be said that it had only been half a minute since he killed the first of the four. It was a pace that few would hope to match. The General was Gen was Caleb, and that was tragic- for all of his learning, he had only been moderately fit, and he wasn''t even fully grown. To survive in combat this long was to accept terrible wounds, to ignore all the pain and pressure, and to fight with a reasonable level of precision. Not the smartest, but educated, a thinking individual. He wasn''t the only one with plans, though, especially not here. Nothing about this place was quite right.

    This would be his death. A noble death in combat, perhaps, but a failure.

    Kat slammed the cat perched on his arm like a linebacker who just base-jumped from a helicopter, or perhaps an especially gifted wrestler with a jet-pack. Her stature and weight was actually to her advantage, because when she dislodged the beast, she fell to the jungle floor nearby. The General was happy to see her, and even more happy to get his hand free. He couldn''t pull it back into place; it was as he feared. It would take some work, if that even helped. He groaned. It was more important that his soldier had returned, and just in the nick of time.

    Kat was right about in position to grab the dagger he had thrown at the creature in his ill-fated attempt control the crowd. With how swift she moved, it was in her hand in an instant. She held it wrong, swung it wrong, with impressively fragile form, and none of the force he could muster, but she landed a blow on the felled cat none-the-less. It wasn''t enough; it hardly tore past the skin. She swung again, and again, but it was pretty futile.

    "Just stab it!" He shouted, lifting himself to his feet. The other two cats were freed from the dense muscle of their dead compatriot by this point, and visibly furious. He hadn''t known that animals were so expressive. If they were people, maybe they''d rant about how he would die in the slowest and most painful way they could muster. They weren''t, though, so they just charged for him.

    Kat grunted in acknowledgement, flipping the knife to a reversed grip. At least, she figured it was a ''reverse grip''. She had seen it done in a cop show once, maybe. The feeling of stabbing into it was nauseating, a deep squelch. She tried to pull it out again, nonetheless, since the creature was evidently alive. The long blade was thoroughly stuck, though, or she just wasn''t strong enough to remove it. By the time she finished with that, Gen was on his feet, kick-boxing with the other two catbeasts. It was actually pretty impressive how he was going at it. She had to catch herself being useless; this was no spectator sport. She had got the drop on one, but the other two needed dealing with.

    A thinner hilt was poking out of the discarded corpse, a remnant of Gen dispatching it. She slid for it, yanking it out in as smooth a motion she could manage. The thing''s muscles were much less dense where he had stabbed it, fortunately. Or was that some form of special ability he just got? She wasn''t sure, at this point. She turned to the one she stabbed, but it was still on the ground. Good. She had speared it between those big legs and chest in the whats-its, and it''d be there for a bit.

    Kat whirled to face the three quarreling again. Gen had one biting his thigh, but the cat seemed to be struggling to really sink its teeth in. She marveled at the fact that he had really killed whatever it was that had that stupid grey hide. It had taken some ingenuity to poke holes for threading. She charged in, stabbing the one biting him in the rear. It didn''t take as well to the assault, surprised, and whipped about. It spotted her, snapping at her still-outstretched arm. The motion wrenched the hilt from her hand, and she only just pulled back in time. The other catbeast saw the struggle, trying to catch her unawares. Gen unleashed an impressive kick to its jaw; of the kind she had only ever seen on TV- someone trying to kick a field goal. Its head flipped up at an odd angle, and it took a moment for it to regain focus.

    The General knew that he couldn''t kill them like this. Any human would have just fallen limp from a kick of that caliber, his leg throbbed in a way that had nothing to do with pain and a lot to do with complete exhaustion, especially to the neck. The thick muscles of each of these lethal little buggers were impeding his sport. He beckoned to his companion, who was currently playing tag with the other of the two furious beasts. Then he remembered that his hand was hanging limp. "Come over here and snag another blade from my back, girl. Hurry," he said, trying to ward his own quarry away. His foot had none of the leathery grey armor, so he could only really bat at it with his lower legs and dodge about. If it wasn''t discombobulated, he''d be just plain dead.

    Kat wasn''t sure if she liked being called ''girl'' one bit, but that could wait for later. She leapt and swung like a gymnast using one of the tangled branches above, landing just past the catbeast fighting Gen. Its claws caught her in the leg, and she staggered past. Damn, that hurt. Like, really, really hurt. Injuries were one thing, but this wasn''t some little scrape. She pulled one of the last of the blades from his back, which ended up being something like a kukri, and brought it down over the beast''s head. It bounced, of course, off of the thing''s thick skull.

    Her own beast had caught up, and the two were weaving in and out, biting at Gen- and her. She had not decent protection, and they were herding them towards thicker, harder to navigate, brush. Kat wasn''t sure if she could navigate that, in all honesty. Her cheat-sheet was currently trying to kill them. If she knew awkward, slow Gen could go badass mode, she would have just told him about each catbeast from the get-go. It would have been simpler that way, at least. This was ''The General'', then?

    Gen shoved her with his arms, hands flailing comically (a tragedy) and she tumbled aside. Her beast leaped, landing hard against the ground where it had planned to take her. Kat struggled to her feet again, jabbing at Gen''s, but her speed was wearing thin. "Hold it still," he ordered, and so she did. It didn''t make much sense until he full-body tackled the beast into her, biting at its flank and thoroughly impaling it on the kukri. The beast flailed, and her arm hurt like hell, and when she let it go, the whole assembly- kukri, catbeast, and Gen, slammed to the ground. The kukri went all the way to the hilt from the pressure, and like that, it spit out an impressive trickle of blood. That made two dead catbeasts, she hoped.

    The one she had impaled earlier was nowhere to be seen, she realized. That was dangerous. No matter how she hard she pretended she was the almighty ''Adventurer'', explorer of jungles, she just couldn''t see it. Then, like lightning, the other beast fled. It ran full-tilt through the growth, evidently unhampered by the thicket. They were alive, if a bit worse for wear, and with two catbeast heads to mount on a hunting lodge wall somewhere, sometime. Kat had to admit that it was an impressive outcome for just the two of them, especially for Gen, who was already a hand down. Her impression of him, and their odds for survival, went up for a few notches.

    Then he wouldn''t stop mumbling about how "that stupid cat stole my brand new Baselard" and how he was "going to bring it home for dinner".

    She had to face the facts. They were doomed. So impossibly doomed.

 008: Sun Tzu is rolling in his grave.

    "I told you this was a horrible idea!" Kat shouted. She felt like a professional hurdler with all of the massive cats she had to dodge over and around. Gen was having a substantially worse time of it, what with the small army of agitated beasts at his back and closing. The skunk-grass had bought them some time, but they weren''t doing quite so well, now. They seemed especially furious- probably on account of Gen''s new feline fur "shoes" and her own leather wrap. That fury was a saving grace, really.

    They were not anywhere near as stupid- or catlike, actually- as she had estimated. They had hoped that the ''catbeasts'' wouldn''t be quite so organized, but despite their ordinarily solitary nature, they seemed to actually be pack animals. Pack animals! Between that, and the snouts, maybe they were better suited to be ''dogbeasts''? It was dumb luck that they still had their limbs after all of the mistakes they made in the past few hours, let alone made it this far. The night hadn''t quite gone as they hoped. The trouble started after she finished treating Gen.

    The General had been a bit too eager to challenge literal animals to a duel for his stolen property. It took the agony of setting his hand back right and the bitter taste one of the few of the plants she had identified to call him out of his fury. Even when "Gen" was back, though, it became very clear to him- and her- that he wouldn''t just let the weapon go. That knife was buried deep in its thigh, thankfully, so short of a concerted effort by two or three of the creatures, it was going to take it back to its nest. They could come back for it, whether it was dead or alive, and fight it- two on one. Far less risky, but it was still dangerous.

    It was getting late, and to be out in the open at night seemed quite dangerous, so the quest for safe shelter began. When Kat had been at the temple, she had seen creatures move about in the distance, ones distinctly unlike those that came out in the day. She didn''t want to see even one of them up close and personal, and she had told Gen as much. They had journeyed miles out from the two mountains and their relative safety, and they would be hard-pressed to even find the jungle temple short of retracing their every step, so the only place to search for shelter was onwards.

    The trees had all grown to a relatively even height, but eventually Kat found one that had a decent view over the canopy. She looked for clearings, finding none, and signs of life, finding none. The infinite green sea was starting to look less adventurous and more monotonous, and she found herself getting dizzy just sweeping her eyes about. Everything was so colorful, but so very much the same. She had been on a trip to Montana with her family, with a scenic flight over the "Chinese Wall" (the one in the Bob Marshall Wilderness, Montana), and the sea of trees had been just as never-ending there as they were here. Little Catarina had resolved to never get lost in the woods, especially if they were so big and scary. Whoops.

    A sudden plume of smoke in the distance distracted her from her descent. She stopped, foot dangling, staring in awe. They weren''t alone in the woods, someone else was out there, and they had enough fire to send up so much smoke. Kat practically rolled her way down the trunk. Seeing Gen surprised for once was a pleasant reward, and when he heard about the fire, his jaw dropped. They didn''t really think things through. They just ran, and ran, towards that place off in the distance. By the time they found their destination, it was night.

    They didn''t find people. More precisely, they didn''t find humans. The fire was coming from a small village of sorts. It was fortified, with three-meter-tall wooden barricades and little guard towers, and they could make out a few gates even from a distance. As they approached, they got a better view of the inside. Little huts, a few larger longhouse-esque structures, and a fire pit. The inhabitants were celebrating about the firepit, apparently unconcerned about the risk of hostiles or animals sneaking in. To be fair, they hadn''t spotted any catbeasts or even Dragon tracks this far out, so it wasn''t like they had no reason to be so confident.

    When they reached the nearest gate, they started to realize that things weren''t quite right. First, unless there was some trippy optical illusion going on, the people sitting and dancing and drinking around the fire were four feet tall at most. The second was that the roast over the fire was huge, and even as burnt as it was, it didn''t look very much like a beast. If anything, it was more like a human, what with how long and lanky it was. That was when they started to hear the sobbing. Just as they stepped past the gate, the sobbing started. It was unlike anything Kat had ever heard, a sort of crying that even her mother had never mustered when she did something mean or dangerous.

    Gen reacted first. He yanked on her shoulder, hurrying back and dodging as out of sight as fast as he could. One of the residents noticed them, though, and turned. They chittered. The little fiends didn''t speak any language they had known of, heard of, or thought to even imagine. It was a clicking and chittering language and when the one who noticed them pointed their way, the rest all snapped to attention. In their hurry to find somewhere for the night, they had walked right into an encampment of little people eaters.

    That was the last thing Kat put together. The creatures reminded her of Gremlins, with their floppy elephantine ears and angry mugs and sharp, sharp teeth. More and more of the things poured out of the huts, joining the ''party'' and the thick swarm of midget-monsters staring at them. They had practically tossed themselves on the menu. The two of them started to run, full tilt. That was the first time they had to run for their lives that night, but certainly not the last. Sharp, claw-tipped spears whizzed past their ears, and a small army of the Gremlins ran after them.

    There were traps, Kat realized. Ones they hadn''t seen on the way in. Neither of them had been paying nearly enough attention on the way in. She could only barely get Gen away from the first pitfall in time, but he got the idea. He started paying less attention to the shoddily thrown spears and a lot more onto his footfalls and the ground ahead, speeding his pace. He had improved a lot over the past day, she noted. Why wasn''t he sore? Shouldn''t he be tired? She shook her head. It didn''t matter right now.

    In any case, they had to shake the creatures, or they''d be running all night. She steered Gen towards a thicket, pointing to a particular tree. It would be a blindspot, and if they played it right, the army would stamp right past. The climb was rough. With some help, Gen made it to the branch- and just in time. The Gremlins were intent on catching them, hurrying past to wherever they had ''gone''. Kat started to sigh, to say how happy she was that the plan had worked, but Gen clamped her mouth shut. With his horribly mangled mummy-wrapped hand, he "pointed" towards his ear. She got the message, nodding, and he pulled his hand away.

    They had gotten away from those creatures, but what about whoever- whatever- they had trapped in there? That they were roasting on spits? The party wouldn''t just end because they had lost some intruders. If anything, the effort would make them hungry. She couldn''t say anything, though, so she just sat and stared. Gen was set to staring, too, and it dawned on her that they were a bit uncomfortably close, tucked on the branch like this. Life and death or not, it was just awkward, was all. She definitely wasn''t being self-conscious at all. Finally, Gen broke the silence, with a bout of swearing.

    The captives and their fate bothered him as much as it bothered her. Maybe even more, really. He seemed to have some obsession with gathering more troops that went a bit beyond ''saving fellow human beings'', and it came out in full force whenever his fight or flight did- like after running from a bunch of midgets with spears and hoods and those sharp teeth. She shivered, hoping she''d never get a crash course on how sharp they really were. And so they started to talk. To plan. They got as far as two sentences in before she saw it. It was the first thing she had seen above the canopy since they had left the mountains. Kat couldn''t make out its features, a pitch-black shadow weaving it way through branch after branch, but she could tell it was headed straight for them.

    It was a nocturnal predator. Not one of the few she had seen before, either. This one was different. Something about it gave her the creeps, more than usual. It was like it permeated the air with wave after wave of nastiness, a sort of pressure like humidity weighing on her skin. It was strange, to say the least, and Gen felt it before he could see it. She hurried down the tree, yelling back to him to hurry down. The black ''worm'' had sped up, and it lashed itself around the trunk of the tree they had just been on. Gen, thankfully, slipped just below its grasp. They started to run, but a sound like a tea-kettle caught their attention. The worm bloated and shifted in the darkness, something within it moving about, and the tree was screaming. That was the best way they could describe it. The bark that it threw itself around glittered in the dim light of the waning moon.

    The ''screaming'' stopped. The tree had been turned into a crystalline sculpture of its old self, a jewel of such caliber and scale that it could start wars back home, and despite that, the creature hissed in evident dissatisfaction. It swirled up and down the tree, and the jewel started to melt like a Popsicle, a puddle of viscus liquid pooling at the base. It was around this time that they both started to run, once more. The second time they ran that night.

    Kat made the mistake of looking back. They had gained some distance, but she could still make out the creature. Rather than the impossible dim canopy-arrested light of the rest of the rainforest, the creature was now situated in the gap it had just made. It finished slurping up the fluid, and as it turned to look for its actual prey, it really unfurled. She had taken it to be about the size of a catbeast and just as long when it was approaching, but she was dead wrong.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    It was insectoid. Its head wasn''t especially unusual, except for its sheer size. It was most like mosquitos, built for liquid consumption. That made sense, considering what they had just seen. From the head down, though, all bets were off. It was perched like a cobra, staring down at the two as they fled. Kat got a good look at the upper-body, the ''thorax'' or something or another, and it was terrifying. It was covered in constantly fluctuating tentacles, a mane of disgusting flagellums flickering about. They were still dripping with a strange, red liquid, quite possibly the thing that had petrified the tree so thoroughly. As it bent down, the four-meter-long tentacles all furled back, like a water bird preparing for a dive. It started to chase them, a black tide of multi-jointed legs fluttering and clawing at the dirt as it chased after them. If it was like a snake in the trees, it was more like a missile on the ground, a testament to aerodynamics, the impressive efficiency of night-predators, and of how fucked up mother nature is.

    "We''ve got to swerve!" She shouted, pointing for a different catbeast''s tracks. "It''s gaining on us!"

    Gen nodded, tailing her. The monstrosity barreled past- too close for comfort- and erupted into a hiss. It hardly missed a beat, though, and suddenly, it was charging at them again. Kat had to force herself to focus less on the way that tree had just melted and more on which path to take, where the thorny bushes or the thick growth that would slow them down was, and how to find her way outбн

    "Find the freshest tracks!" He shouted, "Kill with a borrowed sword!" Kat had no idea what that second bit even meant, but she could sort of guess what he wanted to do. "That''s absolutely crazy! Now really isn''t the time to get your dagger back!" She said, heaving from the effort. Running and talking really wasn''t fun, especially when you had to manage 90 degree turns every few hundred meters. She followed orders, anyway. For some reason the guy seemed so confident things would turn out right when any and all civility and fun floated away.

    She had never seen the catbeasts sleep. The sight of nearly a hundred of them, a colony of "solitary predators" on every tree-branch, patch of green, or comfortable enough rock was either unnerving or awe-inspiring. The sight of said colony all shooting to their feet at once? That was just plain eerie. Scary, even. They weren''t the scariest thing she had seen anymore, but they were still dangerous, and they had a vendetta for them both. Kat could actually spot the one with the knife wound, the only one of the pack to take a moment to right itself.

    They had been this close to an actual nest of catbeasts. Could this night get any worse? The catbeasts charged them, surging through the trees to try to encapsulate them. It was only when Gen shouted "split up" and dodged to the side that their two parties of would-be murderers ran into each-other. To her surprise, the Gorgon Bug (she had have a name for it before Gen got a word in) was the one to flee. When they collided, it reared up, sweeping about with its fully-extended tentacles. The cats all retreated, growling, and the Gorgon Bug just started moving in reverse, without even turning. It disappeared into the night before she could even make sense of the strange wiggling of its legs as it retreated. Stupid bugs.

    That wasn''t quite the outcome they had hoped for. The catbeasts refocused on them, and for the first time all night, they had actually started running before their adversaries got a leg up on them. Third time''s the charm.

    The mad dash was entirely based on Kat''s sense of direction. Back home she had never really been able to keep track, but she found that her recall, despite all the mad dashing, was working. She had the gist, at least, of where their destination had been. The "plan", before their interruption, had been to wait for daytime, and drag catbeasts one-by-one into the village of Gremlins. Needless to say, that wouldn''t be happening, but they could at least try to use it to shake off the catbeasts. If she was wrong, though? They didn''t have a chance.

    And so they ran.

    The only reason they made it any distance was a lucky find- Kat spotted some grass that looked a bit like the skunkgrass planted all about the temple. It wasn''t super rare, but there had been no guarantee they''d get ahold of any. She snagged handfuls, scattering some about her as she stumbled. The fastest of the beasts, quite possibly the ''Alpha'' cats, recoiled in evident disgust. They had gone from nipping at her heels to a few meters away in an instant. They were out for blood, though, and when she got back to running, they caught up- at a distance. She could tell that the grass wouldn''t be enough of a repellent the moment the smell started fading, though.

    It was a long run. It wasn''t one you would prefer to make, either. They had to veer off every so often to dodge thorny brambles and the odd rock or hill. They made it, though. The Gremlin village was in sight. The gates were still up, but guards had been assigned to the little guard posts. They howled and pointed and howled some more, panicking. It was strange to see the vicious little beasts so terrified, but with what was behind them, it only made sense. The gates started slamming shut, one by one, and by the time they reached the little wall, all of them were shut.

    Did she mention that it was just a little wall? It wasn''t even smoothed. Stupid creatures probably only used it for animals, at best. She hooked her hands in the bindings, heaving herself up, and she flipped over it in one motion. Gen was significantly less graceful. Actually, she had been afraid he had snapped his neck for a moment, but he sprung to his feet relatively fast, all things considered. Now it was just them, and the army of furious Gremlins pointing weapons at them. Gen started to laugh. It was maniacal, and that was generous. She didn''t get the joke.

    Neither did the Gremlins. They stopped approaching; suddenly wary of the meal that was making such strange noises. They stopped and pointed and nothing happened. The thing was just a waste of time. They would have their meal yet.

    That was when the first of the Prowl leaped over the barricade. The kin-killers could not hope to escape them with such a paltry obstruction, especially not when they were so well rested and righteous. It was time to get vengeance. When Sveral, the great one, joined his pack''s fastest runners, he was surprised. The kin-killers had reinforcements! It was a whole cluster of servants, not unlike his very own pack. His people were strong, mighty, true killers. These piddly little things could not stop them. They would have their revenge- no matter the cost.

    Kat had never seen anything like it. Cat after cat flew over their head, Gen holding her to the wall, and the fighting. The Gremlins were gnashing and stabbing and the catbeats were ripping and tearing and the blood was everywhere. When the flow of cats finally slowed, Gen finally let go of her. It had only been moments, but it felt like forever. A gaggle of cats, flying through the sky. If said gaggle of felines wasn''t currently trying to murder them, she might have sat and marveled at the view she had just seen. Kat needed to get a camera the moment they found real civilization; with crazy things like this happening, she could be the next David Attenborough.

    They both moved in unison to the building- the cage- where they had heard the sobbing. It was empty, as far as they could tell. The whole attempt would have been for nothing. They had to get out. To her surprise, Gen stayed longer, distraught. Suddenly, he shrieked- quite uncharacteristically, she might add- and fell backwards. The noise caught the attention of the quarreling tribes, promptly. Kat saw why he had shrieked, though. All of the sudden, a girl had pressed her face to the bars, bone-thin and with terrible, white hair. She was like a ghost in the night, barely lit by the bonfire, and her face was pale and blurred with tears. Most importantly, she was human. Well, Kat hoped so, at least. She helped Gen up, cognizant of the monsters swarming towards them, and pushed him towards the nearest opposite wall. They needed to add some distance; give their enemies another reason to fight.

    Also, Gen was afraid of ghosts. Cripplingly so. Duly noted.

    She shushed the terrified girl in the cage, and they ran, making much better time than their adversaries who were still locked in combat even as they tried to chase them, but even as they prepared to scale the wall, a looming shape hauled itself to its apex. The Gorgon Bug had quite simply never left. It let out a bone-shattering shriek, waving its tentacles about wildly. They had another distraction! Hurray!

    Pros: Big scary monster all three groups hated already. Probably killed the rest of the catbeasts they would have had to fight outside.

    Cons: It was going to turn them all to soup and drink them.

    Evidently, it had no problem starting with them. It tucked the tentacles once more, slamming its head and thorax over the wall, writhing like a worm to pull the bulk of its body to the other side. It was even more unnerving by the bonfire light, flickering flames revealing trails of blood and goo that had long since seeped into its thick exoskeleton. The tentacles weren''t even as smooth as she had thought, but covered in an infinite array of little bristles that whipped about. Dwelling on it too long would get her killed, though, especially since it was currently hurtling at them.

    She dodged to the side, Gen following suit, and the massive insect rammed the forefront of their other enemies. The three sides faced off, tentacles writhing, spears waving, and claws unsheathed, and the carnage began. One Gremlin in particular had taken a spear from one of his dead comrades, stabbing at a particularly large catbeast, managing to lodge one in its eye. The injury wasn''t light, and the big cat tried to shake it out, to no avail. It lunged for the Gremlin, and even he stabbed it through with another spear, it ripped out his throat. The Gorgon Bug swept down, plucking up the catbeast with its many tentacles, and the big cat thrashed. Finally, it stopped moving, and started to petrify. Other cats lunged at the bug, long mouths ripping chunks from its tentacles or legs, and the Gorgon Bug dropped the big cat. It shattered into bits, and the furious pack swarmed it. The Gremlins stabbed and stabbed, hoping to take advantage of their distraction to slaughter them both.

    Both Kat and Gen had been swallowed by the grandeur of it, their first taste of war. She suspected Gen wasn''t fascinated as much by the ''nature documentary'' qualities as much as the carnage itself. He almost seemed happy to see it, as though he was concealing a grin. She hadn''t run off and vomited, so she certainly wasn''t "normal", but she really hoped she never got that far gone. They couldn''t stay there and watch forever, as tempting as it was to just get lost in the violence. Whoever was left would probably want to kill them.

    They couldn''t forget their objective, though. For the first time since they had been taken and dropped in that stupid cave in that god-forsaken mountain, they had seen another human. A human who wasn''t from their group, who was alive- if a bit traumatized.

    They had a damsel to rescue.

 009: "Saved" and "Rescue" are very circumstantial concepts.

    Merrilyn was rescued by monsters. She had been dumped in a hole in the ground with a small army of other people, with no clothes, rhyme, or reason to be. It was rare enough for her to go outside, but that? That was a whole different level. They had thought she was comatose for a goodly while, but one of the adults was a doctor. The nervous shakes had tipped him off, most of all. Then, they just left her, and got to work. That was almost worse. She was naked and useless and it was always that way, she got attention for how she looked and did nothing with it. Just worthless.

    For a glorified pit, it was strangely well equipped. There was a groundwater trickle to drink from, and a small tunnel that they could crawl for what felt like miles. There were these lethargic little rat things, and as long as they didn''t run out, there''d be something to eat. Raw. It was nasty, but it wasn''t cannibalism, so what could they do? A hobbyist hunter had taught them the basics of waste disposal, drainage, animal cleaning. Said hunter had also proposed that they start digging a real way up, handholds or a tunnel or something.

    Homeostasis. Things went fine for a little bit. She had even started to interact with the strange people all around her for a bit. It was something she hadn''t done for years, actually. Her therapist would probably be celebrating all of the "big progress" she was making. She helped a bit with the digging, tried "hunting", once. She was a member of the group. Days went by before they made any serious progress, though, and in that time, the rats stopped showing up. Hard discussions started. Discussions became fights. Long story short, the people with the guts to do something to save the worthy, the useful people, won. Their little pit had turn into an arena and there was very little chance that her worthless self would be on the ''winning side''.

    Around that time was when the shadows started. Humanoid shapes cast by things walking about the lip of the hole they were in. They didn''t get a good look, but eventually they started digging to them, from the top down. The winning group had very little remorse, but they stopped. There was no great purge. The dead bodies were food enough for the sixteen of them who had survived while the diggers on high came to rescue them. They could all face their sentence and go back to safe, ordinary, normal life. They got a better look at their rescuers. The people who were digging were like a colony of midgets, but they seemed friendly enough on the way down. Never talked back to them and never smiled, but they were saviors, nonetheless. Maybe it would make for a funny story when they were all out.

    It wasn''t until the work was essentially finished, something like a spiral staircase, that their "saviors" swarmed down en-masse. They were quite forcibly removed, and it became very clear that there was no ''going home'' or courts or anything. It was a long walk back through the jungle, and the hobbits locked them up. They were left there, given plenty to eat or drink, and every night, they''d take one of them. Merrilyn had already been starving herself, and she didn''t change that on account of their "rescuers". She was forced to watch, night after night, as a person was toted off, speared alive, and roasted, bit by bit. It was too much to bear. Finally, she was the only one left.

    That night, she was rescued by monsters. The midget tribesmen ran off after something, and they had to eat their meal burnt when they came back. They were visibly dissatisfied with the prospect. Given another hour, they probably would have eaten her. The hours passed, though, and she was still alive, left mourning over the final of the strangers from the pit. They probably would have eaten her too, given the chance, but it didn''t matter to Merrilyn one way or another. Tragedy was tragedy, and it just wasn''t fair. If she could be as detached as the rest of them, maybe things wouldn''t be so terrible.

    To her surprise, the midgets got distracted again. Gentle thuds in the night, ones she could hear now that she wasn''t bawling her eyes out. The angry tribesmen growling at something or another, and laughter. Terrible, insane laughter, the campy kind she thought you could only hear if you got Mark Hamill on set. It went silent after that. Then, the thudding came back, this time hard and heavy and with growls on arrival, and screaming. The tribesmen were being attacked by something, fighting it, and getting the rough end of the stick. Then, it peered down at her.

    A set of spooky faces by candle-light. It was a clichиж as old as time, come to life. Just for her. It was enough of a surprise that she just stared, from her dark little corner, until one turned away. That wouldn''t do. She had to know what had fought off the tribe, who her "rescuer" was now. She crawled to the front-end bars just as the other walked away, and when she put her face to them, the creature tipped backwards and shrieked. It was a boy, covered in grey and soaked in red. A human. Clothed, well-fed, humanity. She wasn''t alone with cannibals and monsters and cannibal monsters. Granted, he didn''t look happy to see her, but he''d have to do. If he was human, then wouldn''t the other "spooky face" be human too?

    Then they ran. They just left her there, hanging onto the bars, and as she tried to call out, they shushed her. They jogged for the far-off opposite wall It was terrible, to be abandoned once more. She was worthless though, so why wouldn''t they? She''d just die here like a good girl and-

    Oh. Army of monsters.

    Giant cats of the like she had never seen were chasing her two new friends, and said cats were chased by the midgets. Or, maybe, the midgets were chasing them, too. Either way, they were like schoolchildren in a race, pushing and jabbing at each-other. It was quite a bit more fatal if she was being honest, but it was still something like a race. They had no chance of catching up, though. Those two made it to the fence and prepared to climb before they even got close. It was around that time that things went haywire.

    A Lovecraftian nightmare swayed in the dim bonfire light, and when it rose to its impressive height, they received such an intense freight. It yanked itself over the wall, nearly tipping it over, and hurled into the crowd, which was presently in the midst of panicked scattering. The brutality gave her all sorts of new ideas that she would probably follow up on if she were at home, doodles she wanted to draw, poems to write, anything at all to express the drama that was staring her in the face. Her new friends had stopped too, gawking, but they didn''t stay forever. They weren''t caught by it, like she was, and she wasn''t sure if the boy got quite the right feeling from the brawl. At least, not judging from the way he was standing.

    Almost in unison, they turned and ran back to her. It was time to go. As she tried to stand, it occurred to her precisely how much blood was on the hands of these two people alone. She tipped backwards. The girl- it was a girl, she could now tell. One of the midget tribesmen had lit a spear on fire and set aflame the building the big monstrosity was rearing up on, casting light all about- looked almost sympathetic. That was like a lion grinning at a gazelle, almost. Merrilyn wasn''t sure if this was the "trust issues" or the natural consequence of starting a three way war between people-eating dwarves, giant cat-dog monsters, and a thing that could turn anything into ruby-red jewelry as it pleased, but it was quite hard to just get up and hurrah her saviors, even if they did seem to be well and truly human for once.

    "I- You don''t plan to", she said. Her voice was hoarse, every word hardly a whisper. The guy didn''t seem to hear anything, focus still mostly on the fight, but the girl- to her astonishment- actually heard her. And spoke English. Maybe they were normal kids after all. "Miss, we''re not going to leave you here," she said. She had a little bit of an accent, but more importantly, ''Miss''? She was hardly in her twenties, let alone in ''Miss'' or ''Lady'' territory. Blasted family bloodline and regressive genes and stupid white hair. More importantly, "I meant if you were planning to eat me, but that works too."This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Merrilyn tried again, struggling to her feet. Going without food for this long was sure to be fatal; it was just a roll of the dice. Today wasn''t the day, though, and with some help from the bars, she got her ground. She pointedly ignored the strange looks she was getting from the teens- they were teens, after all this chaos was said and done- and tried to get a real hold of that "walking" thing again. It was tipsy, at first, but with some effort, she got to moving. The boy had pulled out a sword from god knows where and started sawing at the wooden bars with it. Now that she was well and truly standing, she noticed the boy was pointedly avoiding certain parts of her anatomy, when he looked at her at all. He wasn''t too far gone, at least. Two and two said the maniacal laugh was from his end of the equation.

    The girl followed her gaze and grinned. "We''ve still got catbeast pelt and I can get ivy any time. How picky are you on your fashion?" She asked. Merrilyn shrugged, trying not to smile herself. It was nice to be a damsel. There were fewer expectations that way, and less room to screw things up. This time, she was even being rescued by a couple of actual human beings. This had to be the best day she''d had in weeks. The boy looked over at his companion- teammate?- and snapped, "You''ve been calling them catbeasts in your head this whole time?" The bars clattered, only little stumps left where they had been lodged. "I don''t want to hear a word about my naming sense."

    She slipped in a cage, practically lifting me on the way out. "What have you been calling them, then?" She said. How were they so damn nonchalant about the whole thing? Couldn''t they see the giant bug was nearly finished killing the midgets? It''d be after them next, Merrilyn was sure of it. No amount of wishful thinking could avert something that side. All the same, they ushered her, one under each shoulder, to the gate just aside the cage. "I, uh, haven''t?" The boy retorted, quite unconvincingly. The girl made a short sound of disgust and passed her to him. He grabbed hold (as respectfully as humanly possible, to my surprise. What kind of teen gets that reaction to bloodshed and goes off to be a perfect gentleman moments later?) of her, covering the last little bit of ground while supporting the brunt of her weight. The girl seemed to fly up the wall, draping herself over top and hanging to look down at the two of them.

    "Well? Pass her up." She said, waving her arms a bit to emphasize the notion. The boy straight lifted Merrilyn from the ground, heaving her to hold the girl''s hands, supporting the pull. As her weight shifted once more, the girl slid backwards, as though the other rope on a pulley. There were just a few moments of pain as she was hanging on the rough walls by her arms, but with a shove from below, she was tugged the rest of the way over. She fell back first, rolled about by the girl as they tumbled, and the boy clamored up after them, peeking over the side.

    "Let''s get out of here," he huffed, evidently letting the exertion finally hit him. He landed feet-first, and with that, it was time for the under-the-shoulder chauffeuring again. The walk was amazing and endless, a forest so vibrant (and unnervingly empty) it took her breath away. The endless bit played hell on her ankles, to the point that they were practically carrying her, but they stopped in a sort of clearing. There were scattered rocks and carcasses and so many animal tracks that she lost count.

    "Oh! Good thinking, Kat," the boy said, heaving her onto the cleanest rock. "They won''t need it anymore, and I doubt any of the other animals will come near this place any time soon."

    The girl- Kat, apparently- grinned. It faltered. "What''s with this stupid jungle? Those stupid cats were entirely too intelligent for what they are. I mean, they weren''t brilliant, but they held a grudge."

    The boy nodded. He looked to be just as concerned. "I don''t think it''s safe to assume the crocodile men are the most dangerous thing out here, even if they do seem to be a bit more sophisticated." Kat''s frown deepened. "What about the Dragons?"

    Merrilyn had been content to sit out the conversation and be the patient wounded girl, but that was just too much. She sat up. "What do you mean, Dragons? What the hell?" Kat turned to her, frown returning to friendly (placating) grin. Merrilyn hated that look, but at least it wasn''t fake like the ones she used to get from the doctors. "They''re not real Dragons", she said. Merrilyn let out a sigh of relief. "They''re massive snake things that the entire ecosystem seems to be based on. Like, bigger than trains."

    She choked on said sigh of relief, glaring at Kat, who was apparently trying not to laugh. Merrilyn wanted her fake sympathy back. "Will we run into any?" She snapped. Kat shook her head. "Not if I have anything to do about it. We haven''t seen any tracks in a while, anyway." At least that was one thing off her plate. She fell back, exhausted from the run and the captivity and the Dragons and the- all of it, just all of it. When she finally felt right enough to look around, her two rescuers were gone. The fifteen minutes before the boy showed back up hurt, really hurt. It was like being told a horror story and left in the dark. He winced. "Sorry about that. We needed to get things in order."

    He was holding a few rabbit-like things. They weren''t too far off from what she had been eating in the hole, but it was food. Glorious food. He sat one down and yanked one of the many, many hilts hanging out to the side and began to skin it. "What''s your name, then?" Merrilyn croaked out. He turned to her, just a bit. "I''m the General." She tried desperately not to gawk. Howбн teenagery. "No, what should I call me?" She asked. He groaned in response. "Kat insists on calling me Gen. Her real name is ''Catarina'', by the way. I''m not sure which one is right for you to use," Around that point her realized that I was giving him my best death-glare, finely honed over years of being ''bad with words''. "I''m twenty-two, I''ll have you know," she said. That got him surprised. He started to open his mouth to say something, knowing boys probably something that would dig himself in deeper in the muck, but Kat cut him off. She was back. "Nibble this, friend?" She hesitated on the last bit, apparently confused at what to call her. "I''m Merrilyn", she said, nodding. "You do want to be called Kat, right?"

    Kat nodded gently. "Nice to meet you, Merrilyn. Now take your meds and we can talk about what''s going on. You sound horrible." Merrilyn had nothing to say to that. It was true, by all rights. It''d be hard to think about much of anything if the gnawing in her stomach or aching in her bones got worse. Probably would be fatal if they both did. The "meds" were bitter, but it seemed to help the aching. Also, it made her want to use the girl''s room, but that could wait. She finally sat up again, addressing the two teens properly. They were squatting over a small pile of undergrowth in a dirt clearing, waving about insects. Not quite what she had expected, but alright.

    The insect lit on fire when it finally hit the wood, and it didn''t even die. Kat just flung it aside and it skittered off, still smoldering. It was cooled off enough to not start a serious fire by the time it hit the undergrowth, but absolutely nothing about the course of events made sense to her. Nor did it make any more sense when Gen did the same. Was she teaching him how to use a flint and beetle? Was this the reality that Merrilyn was now consigned to? She tried desperately not to let this realization get to her. It wouldn''t do to let such a little thing worry if she could tolerate Dragon-slash-bullet trains.

    The fat rabbit thing looked significantly tastier when it was cooked and properly stripped. It was going to be her first real meal. She tried not to drool- she was already dehydrated, it would be bad to make it worse- and skittered over to the meat. Kat laughed. "You''re eager! Here, take the thigh. Don''t bite too hard." The meal was delicious. She pinched herself, but she didn''t wake up. Merrilyn had been saved by these two highly qualified lunatics, and they were in relative safety with relatively good food and relatively decent clothing (of which she still needed to request).

    For once, things were going alright.

 010: Its a great idea, I promise!

    Three was a magical number. The Chinese had insisted all the way to the modern era that a three-man cell was the most viable small-unit troop. Three was enough to rotate shifts at their little ''home''. Three was enough to manage complex construction, to move heavier objects, and to compensate for the fact that Gen''s left hand was still out of commission. It was lucky they had found anyone alive at the Gremlin camp. Merrilyn wasn''t the most competent of them, at least not yet, but she was another human being. He and Kat had gotten comfortable alone, but this was different. A semblance of civilization.

    Merrilyn was an odd sort. She was more talkative then Kat, but when really addressed, she shrunk back, almost as if she were afraid. She was overtly dramatic, and apparently she had been a poet back home. Gen would have preferred something a tad more practical, but they were all here at the roll of the dice. They were all from different parts of America, with Merrilyn having lived in Cleveland for the better half of her life. He wasn''t sure why that was important, but it was. He made a mental note of it, to be explored at a later date.

    The catbeast den had undergone some serious transformation. Through some effort, and a few days setting up camp, they finished all of the necessities. They''d finished a few little walls, strung between the big rocks lying about, a little waste-pit downhill from camp and far enough away to not attract the smaller predators inside, and even a few little lean-to esque shelters. It was cozy, compared to how they had been living before. The only problem was the fact that they weren''t moving anywhere, that there could be more soldiers- people- out there, and they were just leaving them be.

    It couldn''t be helped, though. Merrilyn had been a good sport on the trip, but she wasn''t far from deaths door. They needed a place to sleep, and she needed time to revitalize herself, so they set up camp. Kat was startlingly competent at things like that. He had taken her for more of a city kid, but she had apparently camped and adventured all about when she was little. That gave him another pause. Gen had remembered things differently ever since he had arrived, and especially since he was forced to rely explicitly on himself. He recalled things he didn''t know he had forgotten, quotes that he had thought were neat but discarded as an afterthought, methods and motions that he had deemed infeasible, and even works he had only browsed over before he got a firm hold of Latin and Greek. By God, he had executed a pike maneuver that hadn''t seen live use in centuries with a dagger and didn''t break a sweat. Kat, for her part, had something like total recall of every adventure she had ever taken, and all of the things she needed to get her there.

    What did Merrilyn have, then? They hadn''t really explained the whole "believe in yourself and you get superpowers" thing. Mainly because it would seem like they were smoking those psychedelic roots Kat dug up yesterday. She had to know eventually, though. It couldn''t just stay a secret forever. Sure, maybe she would just become a really good poet, but the important thing was that she knew. The biggest benefit to Gen and Kat had been the way that they were dulled in combat, that when it came time for life and death, they were ready and willing to fight. He had read memoirs explaining how important that was for a soldier, how many lives it had saved (quite counterintuitively, he had thought at the time. It made sense now), and how much effort it took to get that far away from the pale. If acknowledging their situation and staking some claim was all it took to get it? Fantastic.

    Still, one way or another, more hands on board were amazing. Since she''d really come to, Merilynn had learned to strip bushes and ivy from Kat, taken an active role in hauling wood, and even helped out when it came time to cook. The jungle was just that little bit more livable. That thought disconcerted him, since they had already seen one of the things that go bump in the night. What if the Gorgon Bug came back? What if a new, unhurt one showed up? Gen shivered, despite himself. Apathy could wait for a fight to arrive; he just wanted to experience some good, old-fashioned terror. It made him feel more ''normal''. He wondered if it was as man-made as the Mole-taur had been, a product of humans from the long past.

    How had they even made that temple, anyway? He hadn''t really experienced it, but Kat had described the monoliths guarding the place he had been transferred to, and the surreal nature of the whole thing. They wrote it off to magic, of course, but if the Lizard-men and even other humans could do magic, why couldn''t they? No matter how much he focused, or chanted ''Abracadabra'', nothing happened. He eventually stopped trying when he realized it was futile, which was totally unrelated to the strange looks Merrilyn was giving him. In the end, the only safe conclusion was that it was probably like their ''ability to compete''. Maybe that person had been a stage magician, back home? No way to be sure, so it wasn''t worth thinking about. Quite unlike the massive tarp Kat had been working on in her spare time, for practically the whole time they had been there.

    The Jungle around them was almost entirely devoid of green; Kat had made sure of that. Gen was almost relieved to look at a nice, gentle brown of soil instead of constant greens and purples and misty yellows. More importantly, though, she had purposed it all into the strange tarp she was making. It was an impressive craft, and for as large as it was, it was sturdy. Not rigid, not at all, but a flexible sort of unbreakable that meant as long as you were only tugging at it, it wouldn''t break. At first he had guessed it was a legitimate roof, but Kat had only smiled and shook her head when he suggested as much. She absolutely refused to correct him, though, and when he asked, she only said that it was a ''secret'' with a sort of smug grin that gave him an intense urge to order her to drop and give him twenty. She would laugh at that, and probably construe it into something raunchy (and therefore embarrassing), so he barely staved it off.

    Today was the day. Kat seemed satisfied with the tarp, and she cooked the biggest meal she had in a while to celebrate. The Skabbit-meat was delicious. When he took a bite, she announced happily that "The saddle is finished!" Gen nearly choked, huffing it down as fast as he could. Merrilyn just stared blankly, surprised, but not understanding what would need a saddle that big. "You can''t be serious," he said, coughing. Kat just grinned and said "Haven''t you noticed? All of the tracks went off somewhere, and we don''t even know where that ''somewhere'' is. If we can hitch a rideбн" Gen had to admit the prospect was entertaining- they moved so fast, it would save so much time, but it just couldn''t be done. Merrilyn looked back and forth between them. "What''s the saddle for? It''s too big for a cat," she said. Kat nodded. "It''s for a Dragon. You haven''t seen one yet, have you? It''ll be so much f-" Merrilyn tipped backwards. Not unconscious, but a pretty good semblance of it. "You really can''t be serious," she said. Kat nodded. "I am. This saddle is going to be perfect for them, I just feel it." That was something, Gen knew. If it was the Adventurer talking, maybe it would work. "Aren''t they smooth? How could you even mount it? And they never seem to stop moving." Kat mimed a circle in the air, and then doubled back, adding little ''ears'' to the shape. "They have spines on top. I saw them when I was on the way to the temple. The saddle is built to catch said spines, if we time it right. It''s about a 50-50, really." Not half bad, Gen figured. Merrilyn groaned audibly. "So, what would the plan be?" He said, chewing over the idea in his head. Also, chewing the meal over in his mouth. It was quite delicious. He hadn''t been a huge fan, but it was an acquired taste.

    Kat gestured, turning one arm to the side, as though it were the length of the worm itself. She mimed it moving back and forth, and then used her other arm to point at it. "We''ll get above the Dragon, and stretch the saddle over it. I built in little cuff-holds and stirrups at about out height. Me and Merrilyn to one side, you on the other. Once it''s under us, we hope for the best, and then we tip over onto it. The impact will hurt, but with a bit of work, the fact our hands will be wrapped in, and some help from aerodynamics, we should be good to really get situated for a ride." Gen nodded. She had gone over the basics, at least. The plan might work. She continued, grinning. "Once we''re all strapped in? We go. When we want to get off, we have to start pulling knots. The tarp is a series of rigs- 45 degrees, of course- and when we''re ready to go, we detach the front half speared on the spikes from the back part with us on it, and we go for a slide." Gen had thought the tarp was all one piece, actually. He noticed the little stitches now though, complete with knots. Clever.

    She frowned at that. "Getting off is the hard part. I''ve got two plans, there." She pointed at the big tarp. "Plan A is to use the friction from the slide to slow down a bit, free ourselves, and roll off to either side. Plan A is also stupid and dangerous and we''ll probably start a fire, anyway." Merrilyn was sobbing, quietly. They ignored her. "Plan B I''d rather do, but it''s based on a guess. I think the Dragons are actually amphibious." Gen did a double-take. Kat continued, not missing a beat, "The signs are there. We haven''t seen a single ''young Dragon'', so if they exist, they''re elsewhere. A creature that huge has a long time to grow, so they''ve got to exist. The Dragon tracks always seem to be moist when the pass, so on and so forth."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "Scratch that. Plan A is to use the water as a ''brake'', plan B is to dump ourselves off." She said. Merrilyn sat up, intent. She wasn''t sobbing, which gave Gen a start. "How do you know when they''re heading towards the water?" She asked, intently. Kat smiled. "There''s a few long, solitary tracks to the south. I''ve been charting the relative wetness when each Dragon passes by. When they head west, they''re drier, and when they head east, their tracks get absolutely soaked. If they need the water to survive, then it''s safe to assume that there''s some far-off body of water that way. If there''s water, thenбн" Gen finished the sentence. "There''s people. If there''s water, there are people about. Regardless of how dangerous it is, creatures gather about water. It''s what feeds this entire Jungle, along with the rainstorms."

    When he looked over to Merrilyn, she was flat on her back again. She had been adamant that they get her out of the rain while her immune system was weak. Gen wasn''t even sure if they could get sick anymore, but it was still a good idea. They worked hard to get the bit of shelter they had up first, before the latrine was even dug. Needless to say, she wasn''t a big fan of the rain. It was an unhappy coincidence that this was one few places in the Jungle that ''rain'' was legitimate rain and not just a trickle from the canopy above.

    Anyway, Kat''s plan seemed functional, if a bit ambitious. Gen signed off on it. Metaphorically, since they didn''t have a chain of command set up yet. Or ink. Or, for that matter, paper. Merrilyn seemed on board enough after a bit of gentle reassurance, but she was still pretty reluctant. "Are you two crazy? I mean, I knew that, but are you serious?" Kat tried to use her serious face. It looked out of place, and the harder she tried, the more her face scrunched up. Gen chuckled a bit, and Merrilyn started to snort. Kat got frustrated and tried harder, but Merrilyn just shook her head, and said that "I''ve got it, its fine, I believe you", between laughs.

    They packed up their belongings; the dull kukri they had been using to saw at trees, the extra catbeast hide and little sack Kat had made to carry things (quite possibly in preparation for this day), all of the extra rope, and even a bit of charred meat they had kept for emergencies. It had been a nice stay, but it was goodbye. It would have been dangerous to stay longer, anyway. Gen hadn''t felt the Lizards'' eyes crawling on his back in a while, but that was no promise that they didn''t know where they were, or even that they weren''t close by. They had also neglected to tell Merrilyn about those guys. As they started to leave, Gen tapped Merrilyn on the shoulder. She turned, looking away from Kat- who was already a good fifteen yards ahead of them, eager as she was- and he gave her a serious look. The sort of look a leader took when giving out orders or a veteran got when he talked about the old war, a look that he certainly hadn''t practiced in the mirror every day when he was a tween.

    "If you trust yourself seriously and treat wherever you are like your own turf you''ll get superpowers. Also, giant lizard men are chasing us." Gen said, staring her in the eyes. Merrilyn gawked. "Crocodile Men!" Kat shouted back. He really needed to figure out a way to have a conversation without her in earshot, but it seemed like she was getting better and better at picking voices out of the ambience. Merrilyn just shook her head and started walking again. He supposed that was better than having her run away or if she just looked at him like he was crazy. Score one for straight-forward infodumps. With all of the things she had been through, maybe that wasn''t enough to set off her bullshit detector anymore.

    It was a long walk to the dragon tracks. They stretched off as far as Gen could see, without so much as turning. Kat had picked a great place to start. There weren''t too many animals about, either. No catbeasts at all. Of course not, he thought, they''re all dead. They had to pace along the trailhead for quite a ways before they found two suitably close trees, and it took longer to get set up on the branches. The elevations weren''t even, but they got situated enough to be ready for the dive. Gen had to stand crouched, a pose that many would cry to hold for minutes. It took a lot longer than minutes for a Dragon to arrive.

    The Dragon started coasting past, the rumble of the monster''s weight shaking even the trees they stood on. Kat counted them off. Even as scared as Merrilyn was, a count off could motivate people to move. Gen had ready that somewhere. So they counted, and when Kat shouted "Jump!", they all dove in unison. Everything from there was slow motion.

    Suddenly Gen could see them, the blurry array of angry little spikes lined up on its back. As they fell, the tarp caught the wind. Rather than crumpling up, the thicker braces started to pull back, and it furled outwards like a kite in a storm. Merrilyn was screaming, he realized. Kat was screaming, too, but it certainly wasn''t out of fear. Why had he gone along with this plan, again? They fell further, inch by inch. The shot was too close to call, with the hole on either side of the tarp just brushing the spike. Then, to Gen''s surprise, it caught. They jerked about, and the fall continued. The saddle slid, inch by inch, down the gently sloping spike, until they were nearly at the base. Naturally, each spike angled outwards, which meant they were at odds with the ground .Kat had neglected to mention that, or the flapping.

    If the dive was like hopping down a snowy hill on a sled, the landing was like a punch to the guy, and the ride was like a bucking bronco. They all flapped with the saddle, legs splayed and flying about. It took Kat shouting something about "The legholds" and "faster" for Gen to remember that she wanted them to shove their feet in. The girls had a better time of it, but between the fact that Gen had only one arm to brace with, and how tall he was, it was a struggle to force his body towards the mesh. It was dumb luck that the impossibly fast Dragon started sliding its slimy way up a hill, which promptly slammed his legs into its side. It hurt like hell, but he took advantage of the force to get his legs in. He made a mental note to berate Kat next time she wanted to make something that needed two good hands to brace with. She had been looking over at him in a panic, but with that, they were all safe. Relatively so.

    He could hear her shouts over the wind. He had never heard her so exhilarated, so excited, or even so triumphant. "Look, Gen! We''re riding a Dragon!" She shouted, whooping. He tried to reply, but as he opened his mouth, the saddle slammed down on the Dragon''s curved back once more, and he couldn''t breathe again. He spat out some bile. Was she actually enjoying this? Seriously? He wondered how the hell all of those movie actors did the ''fight-on-top-of-the-train'' scenes. Granted, they were probably only going twenty miles an hour, if that. They had to be going at least three times that. Kat kept whooping, and Gen suddenly realized Merrilyn wasnбпt there. Where had she gone? Did she fall off? The Dragon hit a downhill, then, and the outer ends of the saddle started to lift. To his relief, she was still on that end, just silently watching ahead. She noticed his gaze, and when she turned to him, she had tears in her eyes, but she seemed alright. She gave him a little smile.

    Kat kept whooping right up to the point they slammed into the water, head-first. Gen had the good sense to shut his eyes, and he could only hope the others had taken precautions. They kept going down, and it was so fast, even if the descent was gradual. As soon as he freed his arm, the water started trying to force him upwards, but he forced himself to a ball, pulling the knots as fast as he could. His abs gave out, legitimate pain burning in his stomach. He made a mental note to add extra crunches to his next regimen. Still, he had done his part. The tarp swung back, with the girls side still mostly attached. Merrilyn was franticly undoing Kat''s set of knots, and Kat was hardly moving. Finally, the whole thing came free, and the rest of the saddle and the Dragon disappeared into the deeps.

    They were at least twenty feet down and the ''Saddle'' was damnably heavy. Gen yanked his legs free, and he desperately swam to help Kat out of her cuffs and foothold. Merrilyn got her free, finally, and the two of them had Kat between them. It was close. It was really, really close .Gen had nearly run out of air, and Merrilyn was hardly kicking by the end, but they had made it. They each took in a deep gulp of air, and Kat finally started responding, choking out water.

    She heaved for air for a good bit, but the first words out of her mouth were "That was awesome!"

    Gen nearly shoved her back under. Still, they were all alive, albeit a good few hundred feet from shore. The ''lake'' was never-ending and so impossibly deep, but it wasn''t salty, so Gen had to conclude it was something like the Great Lakes back home. They had the good fortune of avoiding scrapes and cuts, so even if they were banged up a bit, but they wouldn''t be meeting the local carnivorous fish. Things had gone about as well as they could have hoped.

    As they swam back, all three of them churning water as well as they could with Kat still dangerously weak from the impact, Gen got a good look at the shore. He could see a vast forest, a somber, dark-green thing quite unlike the verdant jungle they had been in before. They had gone up so many hills that they might actually be at a high elevation; duly noted. In the distance, trailing the shore-line, he could see the forest devolve into plains and marsh that extended as far as he could see to the north. On the other side, atop a massive hill, was a dark-grey mass. It was a wall. The wall of a city, even. A massive, well-protected city, just as they had hoped.

    They had found real civilization.

 Devoid of Man: Interlude 2

    "Are you all fools? Have you all gone mad while I wasn''t working?" I shrieked.

    It was bad enough that a mere apprentice had practically ruined everything, but ladies of the gate were usually infallible. They were intimately familiar with all of those in the process of ascension and the situations of their homelands, and it had always been that way. I had neverknown them to fail, and certainly not to such a terrible extent. It was bad enough that the humans had been unleashed on the outer brinks, but they had to go and make it so, so much worse.

    "You sent them by the thirties?" I demanded, and the nearest of the impossibly beautiful specters cowered a bit. They weren''t used to being challenged, in the end. "Sir, I don''t- despite the successes of their homeworld, they were all so weak," she stammered out. I felt like ripping my hair out. "Sending them en-masse is bad enough, but why did you deprive them of the common language? When they emerge, what will happen?" I advanced with each word, and the ladies fell back in unison. They looked more perplexed than terrified, now. "Advanced world protocol, is it not? To send them in to divine the language of their own volition?" The foremost lady asked, professional curiosity rising in her voice.

    I shook my head. I had practically written that damned book, and look at where it had lead us. "I doubt they will so much as try to learn, especially not in the backwater you dumped them in. Why would you even think of setting them so close to the Kaenids? They''ve been gate-guarding new arrivals for centuries now!" It was back to the shouting again. It was beneath me, and especially beneath my station, but justI couldn''t help it. The world was crumbling around me. "This is a race that nearly drove itself to extinction over blood-feuds! And you dumped them near the Kaenids, of all of the primitives you could have chosen?" I trembled, shivers setting in.

    The ladies were far too interested now to even bother to cower. "What''s the problem? They out-populate the region ten-to-one. We''ve set it to a slow drip, and with the Kaenids, it should balance out. Maybe they even win and get rid of those troublemakers for us, free of charge. We thought it was brilliant, actually. So far, it seems to be going alright." I shook my head. "They haven''t had time to acclimatize. Did they not tell you that this was the Third world?" They each gawked, in turn. It was an expression quite ill-suited for their beauty, their elegance. Maybe they were starting to get the picture. "That world you just pushed through? That world you just dumped into a situation in which anyone and everyone will be some shade of hostile? That''s Agent 3. They are the Abandoned Ones, the agents of chaos. Just that teeny tiny little trickle of them and you Ladies, of all the people in this great wide world, should know the destruction they wrought."Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    They scrambled. They were gone, tweaking the brew, pulling levers, and generally sending the realm into an emergency status. Only one remained, addressing me, now entirely stern and attentive. It was the first time in ages they had needed to deal with this level of trouble. "We''re getting it closed out. Seventy-two thousand specimens passed through the gates between the order and current time. Of those, half were placed within the Akesh Jungle, and half in the flood-plains. The vast majority of the ones in Akesh were killed, as expected. The floodplains fared slightly better thanks to the absence of the Kaenids, but we ensured that the Challenge they received on arrival was suitably difficult to compensate. We estimate the over-all surviving tally to be somewhere under eight thousand."

    Eight thousand Humans, running about, completely unchecked. Guaranteed to be the successful ones, the strong, true survivors. I couldn''t fathom it.

    My predecessor had once bellyached about his duty, about the challenges he had faced. He had complained about the endless modernization, the abandonment to mysticism, and therefore the way that the Ascended ceased worshipping him like a God. He had merely become a ''leader''. That was his greatest concern.

    The old man could rot. He had never had to deal with anything like this.

 011: Do you have to pay fare?

    Getting this far was the easy part. Kat had never had so much fun, actually. Nearly drowning was worth the thrill, the experience. She had ridden a giant snake Dragon thing all the way to a massive lake and it had been a legitimately good idea. There was nothing like it even in her wildest dreams, and oh man, Kat had some wild dreams. Things had even gone better than expected, if she was being honest with herself. Of all of the choices they could have made- to stay at their new hovel, to hunt down more hidey-holes like the ones they escaped from, or even to meander through that insane Jungle- that was by far the riskiest, and by God, it paid off.

    None of them had truly considered what would happen if the plan actually worked. Sure, Gen had figured there would be some sort of fortification at the destination, but this was on a whole different level. It was well-fortified, brain-numbingly massive, and it was completely isolated from its surroundings. There was hardly even grass growing on the hill that lead to it, no thick bushes or shady trees to block crucial sight-lines from those high walls. They would stick up like a sore thumb if they tried to sneak in, and that was the problem

    What if the inhabitants were hostile? They still hadn''t tracked down the Crocodile Men, and no matter how much Gen insisted he didn''t feel the ''eyes'' on him like back at the temple, it wasn''t enough. Merrilyn had seemed especially keen on at least verifying they wouldn''t be murdered on sight. That complicated things. The big problem with civilization was the trappings of it, the passport checks, the questioning glances and suspicious glares. Kat had been on the receiving end more than enough, and that was with people who had known her. What would it be like to just walk up dressed like they fell out of the Stone Age?

    There wasn''t even a guarantee that the place was Western, with knights and kings and courts. Hell, they couldn''t be sure it was compatible with what they thought of as ''civilized''. What if they walked up, forgot to signal their unending praise to the Sobek as a greeting, and got skewered for heresy? If this was some sort of fort-town and outsiders were deemed criminal as soon as they failed to identify themselves? If Humans were some sort of outlawed race, or if the place was simply Xenophobic? It was too risky.

    That had led them to the hard part- waiting. They climbed from the sandy shore, hoping they were too far out to be spotted. After that, it was a mad dash from the water-side to the almost temperate forest. In the thick of it, they weren''t quite so noticeable. That was the way it had to be, or at least Gen kept insisting it was. Kat had preferred the idea of scaling the fort''s walls. He had said she may have a real shot of making it up, depending on how advanced this place was. When he had explained the alternative outcome- of her body being doused in eternally burning, face-melting oil, that idea had gone to the garbage bin. Or, at least, it had been relegated to plan B. Maybe even plan C.

    They had found a few little roads along the woods, trailing off in various directions. Each was pointedly avoiding the Jungle they knew to be in the distance, which only made sense. They had even found a path meandering into a tunnel under the Dragon tracks. Going over the things was probably too risky, and they moved so fast that a caravan might be cut in two if it got caught unawares. It was a bit too similar to how trains were treated back home for Kat''s liking. Unlike the Jungle they had left behind, animals didn''t seem to congregate around the Dragon tracks. In fact, it was more like they avoided them entirely. Kat only started catching glances of creatures once they made their way towards the Keep.

    Most castles and walled cities tended to have at least one primary gate, Gen had insisted. He said that trade and commerce were too important to forfeit, even if security suffered. This castle sat on a bend in the lake''s edge, atop that unusually tall hill, so the back and sides were mostly inaccessible. He had estimated that there''d be primary roads into it in at least two locations, situated at diagonals with each-other. In this case, they were to the south-east and to the south-west. It had been a stupidly long trek to follow the forest''s edge to the south, but when they finally got to a decent angle, Gen had been right.

    The city was even more impressive from the front. The gates cut massive holes in that impossibly tall wall, ornamented with such intricate arches and sculptures that she could only describe it as "like Gothic". Merrilyn had insisted that it was, in fact, Baroque. From each of the two gates came two massive roads. On the hill, the roads were laid with shiny brick and decorative patterns, but as it neared the wilderness, it devolved to dirt, much like the trails they had seen on the trek thus far. They were wide enough that it was still impressive, especially if they didn''t have vehicles to pave it out with.

    Gen had a plan. He was good at those, usually, but this one was a bit of a doozy. They found a big, comfortable enough tree with solid foliage cover, and plopped down on its branches. Then, they waited. Sat and waited. He assured the two of them that a caravan of some description would pass at some point, that a city could not be so rich with no trade to speak of, and that since there was no visible fishing or farming, it was a subsidiary of some other food source. Each rang true to Kat on some level, but it didnбпt make the waiting hurt less. They were to wait and see if the caravan was staffed by lizards, or if there were multiple races, or if it was human traffic.

    It felt like ages. Not riding dragons, or hunting, or fighting catbeasts, it was the impossible task of waiting. Her thoughts wandered. How was her mother doing alone? Surely she was fine, she hadn''t been taken and dropped in the wilderness like Kat herself? She bit her lip. Her mom was a strong woman in a lot of ways, but she had never specialized in the whole ''adventure'' thing. Kat remembered all the awkward camp-outs, her mom desperately trying to keep up with her darling Catarina and her husband. Dad had always been so quick, so involved. He was almost more hyper than little-Kat had been. He would have a lot more luck-

    Kat shook her head. Merrilyn promptly looked at her funny, so she stuck her tongue out. There would be time to think about Dad and Mom and all of the people back home once she was out of danger, in her bed, and not waiting patiently for some supposed caravan to arrive. Still, it was hard to focus. The branch wasn''t quite as wide and comfortable as the ones in the Jungle had been. It dug into her tailbone a bit and made her miss Jeans just that little bit more. She had gotten away with a lot with twine and some leaves and some nappy fur, but it was no substitute for legitimate clothes.

    She scowled. They hadn''t really figured that part out. Gen proposed shanking the first group of friendlies to get their travel-outfits, but both she and Merrilyn had shot that idea down. That whole exchange was a little bit odd. Gen had asked Merrilyn why she objected first- possibly because she was older and possibly because she was prettier- and she had no real response. She insisted it was a bad idea. When he had asked Kat, she had simply pointed out that it wouldn''t be the right thing to do, doubly if they weren''t hostile. Maybe exclusively if she wasn''t hostile, she admitted. Her moral code had shifted just a bit somewhere between "giant sentient crocodile serial killer" and "tribe of Gremlins that ate people". Merrilyn had promptly chimed in, agreeing.

    It wasn''t like Kat didn''t sympathize. After Gen told her about the weird ''human powers'' thing, she had been acting a bit different. Kat knew how manic she got when she was going full Adventurer, and Gen- Gen was on a whole ''nother level. Most people took medication for that. Neither of them had quite figured out what Merrilyn''s special power thing was, not for lack of trying. She seemed as perplexed as they did. They could only assume that it was an augmentation to her poetry, or something. It was disappointing, to be sure, but there was a place for everyone on the team, no matter what. They had made that decision even before Merrilyn had healed up.

    She had to admit, the outfit she made for Merrilyn made her look even more radiant than she had in her birthday suit. There was something to be said for strange hair and an exotic outfit, especially with her gently tanning skin. It was like she had stepped out of the pages of a comic book or something, really. Kat might not have believed she was real if they had met back at home. Kat had never been too ''into'' fashion, but Merrilyn had lit a fire. She was such a perfect model, too. Merrilyn had been so pleasant to work with, all in all. A bit strange, but being captured by cannibals- twice, apparently- did that to a person. Maybe she was just ''The Nice Lady''. Kat hoped that she couldn''t read minds or something. Merrilyn wasn''t a big fan of ''Lady'', and Kat would really step in it if she slipped up again.

    It took her a moment to remember why Gen was waving at her. The Caravan, the waiting, and her magical eyes. Back in the Jungle, they had tested each of their respective sight and hearing. It wasn''t an exact science, but it didn''t need to be. Kat won handily, and now she was expected to follow through. Sure enough, there was a caravan trekking their way through the woods. She had to squint, but she could just make out the front of the line. Horses. At least, she thought they were horses. If they were, they were the biggest Kat had ever seen. Like, if an ox and a horse had a baby, and it was twice the size of either. If they were much bigger, she may have assumed they were just stumpy elephants. They heaved the massive load, a chain of carts and wheels. They were hooded, so she could hardly see inside, but she could see the driver.

    It was a person. He looked a bit like Frankenstein, if she squinted. His outfit was impressively formal, with a black suit that contrasted strongly with his pale skin. He had broad shoulders, with a thick chest and alarmingly normal waist, like someone had transplanted a giant''s upper body onto a normal guy''s lower body. He had to be so topheavy, she almost felt sorry for him. Still, he seemed to be handling those giant horses fine, so maybe he had got the muscles through hisoccupation. That actually made sense, in a weird way. He just didn''t seem quite human, no matter what. His face had strong features, more like that of a Gorilla''s, with closely-set eyes, a pronounced and upturned nose, and a massive forehead that complimented his blocky chin.

    It wasn''t the worst thing Kat had seen, but it wasn''t pleasant. Normally she might just write it off as an ugly face, but the features were so strange, and when that was combined with his bizarre musculature, he registered pretty highly on the ''not a human'' scale. Still, it wasn''t a lizard of any variety, so that was one point to the strange gorilla Frankenstein man. She nodded to Gen, and pointed. He nodded. Kat still didn''t give the signal, though. They had waited this long, so they could wait a bit longer.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    The caravan huffed along at a snail''s pace. Every step brought more cart over her horizon, bringing another cloth roof into view. Maybe they could steal their way in using one of those? It''d be risky, though, since they couldn''t know what was inside. What if this was the odd-world equivalent of a taxi? They might not take kindly to hitchhikers, let alone ones dressed like tribesmen. Tribespeople. Eventually, she spotted a green head peek out from the fore-most of the long line of carts.

    This was the first thing that Kat didn''t have to guesstimate. It was a Goblin, through and through. It had those sharp ears, distinctly green skin, a mouth full of teeth filed to points, and that scrunched up little face. She had though the ''Gremlins'' before were the best she could hope for as far as "Goblin-things" went, but this could have been ripped straight from a D&D book. Not that she had read any. Still, it was refreshing to see something so familiar in this foreign world. Even if it was ''familiar'' in the sense of ''something consigned to fantasy back home''. There were a lot of nasty stories about goblins, but this satisfied the conditions for plan C.

    She signaled Gen, using the simple hand signals they had practiced back in the catbeast den. He nodded, finally looking back at the caravan, then scrambling down the tree. At this point, the caravan was probably close enough for them to be spotted. Merrilyn followed suit. Kat had no such luxury- she was on a tree on the opposite side of the road. So she leapt, running across the branch Gen had been on only moments before, and doing her best slide down the trunk. She made it just in time. The coachman was looking at them, head slightly askew, and his lips were moving. The action was exaggerated, so it might have been for their benefit as much as the people in the cart.

    The goblin''s head shot out of the curtains once more, this time to look down at them. They were no more than thirty meters away, now. The creature was inquisitive, but as they sat still, it seemed to relax, even if just a bit. All three of their little group was kneeling and sitting as respectfully as possible, a gesture that Merrilyn had estimated to be as universal as they could hope for. They waited, kneeling patiently, and the caravan grew ever nearer. Finally, the goblin shouted at them. It wasn''t in a language they understood. Gen sighed, nodding gently. That made things harder. Why couldn''t they all speak English, like in the movies?

    Gen stood, and the goblin stopped yelling out at them. It frowned, intent on him once more. He did gesture after gesture, hoping to get the point across. The ASL sign for ''mute'', Merrilyn had studied sign-language in high school, wrapping his hands around his neck, zipping his lips, pantomiming making sounds without anything coming out, and finally, just speaking. In English. Kat hadn''t had the heart to tell him that it would probably be simpler to just start with the English bit. The goblin seemed to get the idea. He grinned, disappearing back into the hooded carriage-cart. The caravan kept moving, and that was that. No one tried to murder them.

    The carts kept moving, until they had practically reached their group little. Kat and Merrilyn both hopped to their feet, ready to get a move on. They''d want to get to the gates before the caravan to get a clue on how they could gain access to a city that spoke a language they didn''t even know. Just as they started to leave, though, the wheels all ground to a halt. It was a strange sensation, the sudden absence of sound. They had almost become used to the rumbling of the caravan in the little time it had been rolling along towards them. Now, though, it was silent. The goblin was hanging out of the carriage once more, shouting at them, and beckoning with his arms.

    That was unexpected. None of the plans they had cooked up actually had the merchants giving them a ride into the city.

    Still, it was too much to look a gift horse in the mouth. Things were going alright, and they seemed civil enough. It wouldn''t be good to lose out on opportunities because they were too terrified of the locals, especially if they hoped to get acquainted with them. It was this, or Jungle life. Kat wasn''t sure she wanted another go on the Dragon train, no matter how much fun it was. So they filed towards the caravan once more, all three of them. The goblin had drawn the curtain, giving them a view inside. It was the first plush thing they had seen in ages, one and all, with pristine red cushions and seats. There was even a flap in the tarp overhead that could be drawn for a sun-roof or a vent, if need be. It was like a luxury car, and Kat wanted on. She hoped he wouldn''t be too offended at the smell of dried lake-water and stop them when they got too close.

    Boarding was easy. There was a little wooden ladder- perhaps built for littler people than they were, but it held up alright- and the carts weren''t too high up to begin with. The goblin was all smiles, up until the point Gen tried to take a seat on the rear chairs. Then it hurriedly tried to stop him, and pulled him away, and then it was all smiles again. No sitting on the fancy chair. Drat. It made sense, though. They were lucky enough to have a ride, and it would be wrong to befoul it right after boarding. It spoke a bit more, but when it saw that they really couldn''t understand, it gave up. The goblin shouted to the coachman, closed the door-curtain, and plunked itself down on the fancy cloth seats. Then, they were off once more.

    It was strange to sit on the ground, just under a tiny little creature. By all measures they should dwarf it, but in raw elevation, it had taken the lead. It reminded Kat of a little kid in a high chair and she had to quash that thought to avoid laughing. They had to be as respectful as humanly possible. It was just- so unusual. This wasn''t the sort of situation she would have even considered ''on the table''. Hitch-hiking with Frankenstein and a goblin and sitting criss-cross apple-sauce with a poet and a guy who fancied himself a General on the floor of their fancy carriage. Where had her life gone, really?

    The ride seemed to last forever. The goblin just sat and stared at them, smiling, and for their part, they smiled and stared back. To be more accurate, they stared away from the goblin''s face, since that could be taken as a sign of challenge, and they mostly stared ''near'' the goblin. The little creature had an astonishing amount of patience. It just sat there and stared at them, content to just look. Kat supposed that was a natural consequence of life on the road before phones or even just the good old-fashioned Gameboy. Maybe she could drum up funds introducing the new world to roadtrip games? If she coined ''99 Bottles of Beer'' and it caught on, she was pretty sure that her name would be on wanted lists by the end of the week, so perhaps not.

    The gentle thudding and smiling goblin made the experience just a bit surreal. Kat found her thoughts wandering, her alertness dulling in favor of more contemplative thought. Why were they here? What would they find on the other side? Why was the Goblin even helping them along? Was it a trap? She thought over each one, and her meandering continued up to the point that the caravan started really climbing the hill. Kat wasn''t feeling right. More accurately, she was feeling a bit more lucid then she usually did, but in light of everything she went through, that wasn''t necessarily a good thing.

    "Gen," she whispered, poking at him. Then she remembered that the Goblin didn''t speak their language, so she just spoke aloud. "Gen, I''m not feeling veryбн Adventurer-y?" She was struggling to find the right words. Gen had always been so certain of "The General", but Kat had never felt so different when she had to fight or run. The boy was looking at her, now, worry playing out on his face. "I''m feeling entirely too normal, myself. Is it the cart?" He asked, mulling it over.

    Kat thought back, shaking her head. "I can''t speak for you, but I felt ''normal'' up until the ride really got underway."

    The goblin was focused on them, now, but he didn''t seem too upset about their chattering. Kat had to cringe a bit. She would be suspicious if a bunch of hitch-hikers started talking to each-other in a language she couldn''t understand.

    Merrilyn turned to them, finally breaking away from her musing. "Didn''t you say something about ''turf''?" That seemed to make sense- they were approaching a city that they did not build, did not live in, and did not have any real reason to stake claim on. What if their ''mode'' was linked to how much control of the territory they had? You couldn''t just walk up to a place and call it your home, even back on earth. That raised questions, though. The one that caught Kat''s interest the most was that of who judged what land belonged to whom. Then she forgot she cared about that because she tipped onto her back. The caravan was climbing the hill, and it had reached the steepest point. The hooves were stamping down on those marvelous bricks, and she could hear them struggling to heave their load up the hill. The sensation reminded Kat a bit of a roller coaster cresting the first big hill- she hoped there wouldn''t be a drop, though. They didn''t even have seat-belts.

    The trip through the gate was surprisingly easy. Humanoids were on guard duty. They looked an awful lot like the coachman of the caravan, especially in the face. They each had different muscle-groups accentuated, though. The coachman''s massive upper body qualified him for his position, but the guards both had incredibly and excessively muscled legs and glutes. Honestly, Kat had to figure their kicks were more lethal than the swords they carried. Whatever they were, they weren''t perfectly human. Strange face aside, muscles really don''t specialize that way. Kat, of anyone, would know. She had been wearing her legs out for days now, but they weren''t elephantine like the guards'' were. Kat decided to refer to the race as ''Roiders for the time being.

    Their first real view of the city came when the goblin pulled the curtains back. People, none of which were human, lined the streets in burlap-tent bazaars and small wooden shops just aside from the wide road they were entering on. Kat thought they may have stopped to offload some of the carts, since the markets were so close to the gate, but they kept going. It was about what she would have expected from a medieval city right to the point that they got to the bridge. The bridge was stone and huge, like a modern thoroughfare, and more importantly, it was over a massive pit. Kat had seen quarries before, but this was something else- and smack dab in the middle of the city. It was awe-inspiring, and maybe a bit uncomfortable, considering just how close they were to that massive drop. Adventurer or no, she still wanted to give bungee jumping it a shot sometime. Did they have bungee cords in the Dark Ages?

    The caravan finally halted when they reached a little station in the middle of the bridge. It had a number of pulleys and gears and boxes with cages, which Kat realized were actually elevators, albeit primitive ones. The goblin yelled up to the coachmen for a bit, and he grunted an affirmation- was that an affirmation?- back to it. Then, the goblin hopped out of the carriage. It beckoned, intent, and they each followed suit. How could the little creature walk? Kat''s legs felt like Jello. The caravan started moving once more, and the goblin walked over to one of the many boxes swinging over that massive abyss, and he looked at them expectantly. They were expected to follow a goblin into a pre-electricity elevator and descend into a massive pit with no context or explanation.

    Was this really such a good idea?

 012: Please, stay the night. I insist.

    Gen was not a big fan of elevators. The situation was risky enough without being caged in and hung over the void. He wouldn''t have even gone in if the goblin didn''t go in first. If they ran that massive caravan, they had to be influential, and ''influential'' meant ''under protection'' and ''potential hostage''. At the least, the three of them would be safe until they got out. Even still, Gen had never liked elevators. Even the real, modernized kind back home used to fail every so often, and this little clockwork box? He shuddered.

    Gen was not a big fan of shuddering. He had been re-acquainted with some of his less useful emotions over the ride in and through the city. Fear was one such emotion. Of the city-people, not a single one was human. Lizards- more like salamanders than crocodiles, thankfully- ran stalls. Goblins manned the shops. The malformed human-gorillas were everywhere, too, and he had spotted some rare individuals that looked suspiciously like dwarves. It was a multicultural hotspot, he supposed, but humans were not on the long list of specimens.

    So he was afraid. Where were they going? What would they do to them? Would they get to the bottom and get re-introduced to the fatal Yari-spear of an angry Crocodile Man, sans their fancy new malformed personalities-slash-superpowers? Gen wasn''t even sure if he could manage it. His muscles all ached, and he didn''t feel equipped to handle the unknown. It didn''t help that the descent never seemed to end. He stood in a little box hanging over an abyss that he couldn''t see, and the chain-and-bar roof and windows only revealed the sides of the quarry, and finally, nothing at all. Somewhere in the descent, the walls fell away.

    They could see each-other. Merrilyn was just as perplexed as he was, taking in the view. No doubt saving up scenes for a poem, or something. Kat hadn''t even noticed, her eyes firmly locked with the ground below her. He was a little relieved; it would have beenawkward to be the only one so uncomfortable with the elevator. In any case, they could see each-other, and it was not dim, yet they could not see far out of the elevator. It was just so unusual. Maybe the hole swayed out, widening in the descent? When they finally reached their destination, that didn''t seem to be true.

    A spider''s web of chains and rope appeared from the void in every direction. Despite the reasonable level of light around him, Gen could only see a couple of yards out in any given direction. He stifled a groan. The only thing that could manage that would be this fancy ''magic'' thing they had encountered back in the Jungle. On the long list of scenarios he wanted to avoid, ''meeting someone who does magic'' was fairly high on the list. The mass of chains all coalesced to hold up a massive boulder, each stretched taught and embedded in the rock. The ropes disappeared below it, presumably helping to hold it up. Atop the boulder sat an impressively circular structure, a relatively large shack that still couldn''t cover even a third of the surface. Gen figured it was about an acre in all, though the jagged shape made it hard to estimate its actual size. As for how far down it went, based on the angles of the ropes descending below, it was at least four or five stories tall.

    ''Why would they even build something like this?'' he wondered. With the entire city above to build upon, why would they make this strange structure in the chasm below? Having a quarry cut out such a huge chunk of land was strange enough. It would make more sense if this was a mining town. Gen wondered for a moment if assuming dwarves were miners would be discriminatory. Navigating social politics would be the least of his worries, though. Everyone else had left the elevator while his thoughts wandered, and they were now staring back at him just a tad impatiently. Everyone was nervous enough without their General appearing hesitant, regardless of whether or not he was feeling very General-like. It was his turn.

    A long wooden pier had been constructed as a landing strip of sorts for each of the elevators. It wobbled and swayed in a way that made Gen nervous. If Merrilyn could do it, with all of her wariness and jitters, then so could he. He hopped gently down onto it, bracing himself to run or jump back to the elevator or hang on for dear life. Nothing happened. Phew. Their goblin escort seemed to be taking great joy in his caution. Gen scowled. Why wouldn''t he be careful? God only knew how far down the fall went.

    Really, though, the elevators and even the pier seemed quite old. It wasn''t like they would break as soon as their little group started using them, right? That would just be too much of a coincidence. He relaxed, almost jogging to catch up with the rest of them. The goblin was leading the group towards the little shack in the middle of the boulder. Gen contemplated chucking the goblin off the edge and running back for the elevator. This situation was just a bit too out of hand to be safe, and wherever it was leading them, it couldn''t be good. It was probably already too late, though. Even if they couldn''t see in the oppressive screen of darkness, there was no guarantee whoever was in the shack couldn''t see out at them. Furthermore, how had the goblin even operated the elevator? It just seemed to move on its own.

    Gen''s train of thought hit a roadblock, there. How could they see the shack in the middle of the boulder? For that matter, why was the boulder so clear to them? Looking back at the elevator, he could still see it, even though they had walked at least ten yards already. It wasn''t like they ''just couldn''t see that far'' at all, it was more like a bubble of darkness that surrounded the island itself. If there was a bubble, there could be a cage, or hundreds of bows pointed at them, or some magical barrier. The elevators were the only way in and out. He tensed. Gen knew that if he was at 100%, he never would have let things get this far gone. He''d need to be more attentive. If the situation really was hostile, their only asset was that the goblin seemed important, and he''d need to leave the rock somehow. If they could use that to their advantage, then maybe things would go alright.

    Kat wasn''t sure why, but the hut seemed more imposing up close. More real. She had been getting a ''horror movie'' vibe from the moment they hopped off the Caravan, and this setting really wasn''t helping. If they could talk with the goblin, it wouldn''t be so bad, but it couldn''t understand them, or vice-versa. The creature had grown on her a bit, just on the merit of its patience during the ride. She had a hard enough time sitting still, let alone many days and nights in a row like the goblin probably had. It even took them on this detour to the abyss- whatever danger they were in, it probably was too.

    She had been more or less in tandem with the goblin on the approach. Gen was acting a bit flakey, and no matter if Merrilyn was older than them or not, she was still ''the new one'', so someone had to take point. If it needed to be her, she''d rise to the task. It definitely wasn''t because she was feeling guilty about all the life-threatening situations she had caused while still under the influence of the ''Adventurer'' thing. Sure, she had been useful, but she had been flighty and inconsistent, a bit too amped up. Kat had convinced her little group of friends to ride a massive worm-snake for miles in a completely untested harness, for crying out loud. Sure, they had went along with it, but only because the General had no real grasp of fear. It wasn''t fair or right to take advantage of that. And to scream and holler the whole way like it was a roller coaster? She was lucky to be alive. One drowning person can drown two conscious ones, if they aren''t careful, so maybe they were all lucky to be alive.

    Kat tried not to let how absolutelyguilt-free she was feeling distract her from focusing on the goblin''s actions. Regardless of how friendly it was, or impressive, it was still an unknown quantity. In the worst case, they might need it for a hostage or something. So she watched intently as it raised its stubby little arm and rapped on the door. Nothing happened for a long while, just them and the goblin and the solemn door. Finally, it swung out at them, a massive hand pushing out from the dark interior.

    That gave her a start. The hand just hung there, disembodied, and she had to force herself to stay calm. Maybe it was a friendly hand, like that one from the Add*ms Family? That must be it. She stepped forward confidently, and the darkness fell away. All of it. She could see the chasm''s walls again from the corner of her eyes, and more importantly, the figure standing in the doorway. It wasn''t a disembodied hand at all, but the arms of a woman with a particularly massive chest. That was, impossibly large chest muscles. If she had cleavage of any kind, Kat couldn''t spot it.

    It was one of the strange Frankenstein people, and she was beaming. Her hairdo swayed as she looked down at them, a large bob of brunette hair laced with a number of pins and decorations that would have looked almost ''frilly'' on anyone else''s head. On this woman, it just looked stately. Her grin revealed flat teeth, completely devoid of canines or incisors. Humanoid, but not human, Kat was certain at this point. She was holding a bowl in her free hand, and she wore something like a robe, which hung loose like a skirt about her waist. Kat cringed a bit. It was hard enough to find good clothes with a normal body, let alone one with suchбн offset proportions. In retrospect, that the coachman had looked so well dressed was probably a testament to the quality of the tailors who made his suit.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    She looked down at the little goblin, grinning, and then back to them. She didn''t move from the doorway, but she did speak. It wasn''t in any language Kat could understand. The goblin exchanged a few words, and the lady''s smile deepened. It was getting a bit creepy, actually. With that, though, she released the door and beckoned them in, welcoming them to the hut.

    The hut wasn''t quite like what Kat had expected. The exterior was circular and wooden and unimpressive, but the insides were laden with stone and brick and looked positively ancient. She wondered if it had been made when the city''s gates were, a relic of past affluence. Man, had Kat missed thinking of words like ''Affluence''. She almost didn''t want to go back to Adventure mode, even if it did let her really hit the ground running.

    The hallway they entered first had two guards. They were both lower-body centric Frankensteins, like the ones guarding the gate. Kat had seen some Frankensteins that preferred their left or right side rather than upper body or lower body, but only as civilians. She could sort of understand that. Combat wasn''t a very ''one-side-only'' sort of thing, even if blacksmithing or farming could be. In any case, there were two guards with huge legs. Despite being a rock hanging in the abyss, it was guarded. That really wasn''t good. The more people there were, the harder it would be to escape, let alone fight their way out. They didn''t confiscate Gen''s daggers when he came in, though, so it couldn''t be too bad.

    The woman who greeted them at the door led them to a large room. It was shaped a bit like a pie slice, a cut of the circular hut. It reminded Kat a bit of the principal''s office, back home. When they followed her in, she addressed the goblin once more. It said some things, she said some things, and the three of them stood there looking dumb and confused. Kat regretted not studying Goblinese for her language credit. She slipped the goblin something that looked suspiciously shiny. It bowed briefly and booked it. Kat supposed that was about what you''d expect. It was a busy little guy, after all. The coachman probably couldn''t navigate the markets as well as it could, even if it allowed him to sell off wares.

    Gen was more concerned about the fact that they had been delivered to a secluded location as part of a monetary transaction and their hostage had headed for the hills before he had even thought to apprehend it. The elevator would be gone before they could fight their way free from the guards and mysterious bodybuilding lady. They were trapped.

    He hadn''t been fast enough. Decisive enough. If things went wrong, it''d be on his head, for once. He couldn''t just be ''good'' when some superpower felt like manifesting. That would make him an addict, a loser, and-

    "Take a seat, please," the lady said.

    -he couldn''t be so weak. The group needed a leader. Even now that his megalomania streak had fled the premises of his noggin, he knew it was true. They weren''t in a civilian setting anymore, and there was hardly anyone they could trust.

    Gen nearly fell over. "You can speak English?" he said, incredulous. The odds of these strange creatures knowing one of the thousands of languages of Earth was so impossibly low that he hadn''t even considered it. When he realized that he was the last one standing, he almost blushed. It had just been so shocking, to hear her speak their language. His legs were feeling wobbly, anyway. So he sat.

    The lady chuckled, shaking her head. "You are of magic race, no? Too weak to ascend any other way." Her voice was echoed, as though there were five of her speaking all at once. She leaned forward, poking him on the forehead. It hurt like hell, but he desperately resisted listening to his twitching dagger arm. This was important stuff.

    He shook his head. He got as far as "Humans have never been magic, ma''am." before Kat jabbed him in the side. What was it with the poking!? "We have a long history of lore involving magic, and a number of other things. I- it''s never been common, though." She said. He realized that was true enough. What if the stories of Merlin had some merit? Still, he didn''t know what she meant.

    She poked Kat on the head, this time. The girl pouted and covered her head with a little ''ow''. Gen felt a small twinge of satisfaction at that. At least his forehead wouldn''t be the only one with a welt in the morning. If they survived. The woman spoke again. "You are both magic; I feel it in you. If it were so rare, two magic ones in the same room would be cause for celebration. I am one such example." That caught Gen off guard. They were magic? Why hadn''t they felt it? She frowned and continued. "You know nothing of magic, then? Try this." She hollered out, and a guard entered the room. The shout didn''t echo, and more he didn''t understand it. That might not be a coincidence, he figured. Magic. An unknown variable.

    "You have the mana. Not all have mana, but many do. It is strange that you do not know the common language, but it makes more sense if your Augmentation made you have the magic. Focus on your ears and tongue. You have tongue, yes?" She babbled on. Gen wasn''t quite sure what she meant, but Kat must have. She looked to the guard, and said "Hello!" It echoed like the woman''s voice, as though a small army of Kats were saying Hello in a ton of different languages. The guard responded shortly, before wandering back to his post. Gen didn''t know what it meant, but Kat recoiled. "No way!" She said, shock playing out on her face.

    "Internal mana good for this. Connects all, even those who are not so talented. Will help you understand until you learn common language." The woman nodded, sagely. Evidently, Kat had just ''focused on her ears'' and suddenly spoke in tongues. Gen tried, but he didn''t feel any different. Kat looked at him. "It''s like trying to stretch your toes really hard, but with your ears. Here, like this." She said. He took a brand new mental note for his long, long collection: Kat sucked at explaining things. Merrilyn had figured it out, though.

    "My friends have described getting powerful from ''trusting themselves'' and ''claiming territory''. Is that caused by this ''mana'', too? Their personality alsoбн changes a bit." She asked. Gen hadn''t even thought of that. Leave it to a poet to get right to the correlations. It would explain a lot about why they got to the new world and felt so different. The lady didn''t answer quite how he expected, though. "External mana is the magic of rights. It''s the magic we all share. As long as the surrounding mana acknowledges you, you use it. Any mage can do it, but it is talent." She leaned back in her chair, confusion playing out over her face. "Presence of mana changes a person. Not much, though. Are you sure?"

    What did she mean it didn''t change them much? Gen was feeling far too ''normal'' for the first time in far too long for it to just be a little tweak. Was she lying? What reason would she have to lie about this, in fact? Surely, there was some outside force causing him and Kat to behave so strangely. It couldn''t be just a little nudge in the right direction. It occurred to him in a start.

    "Mana makes you drunk?" He asked, his tongue buzzing with every word. Damn, that felt weird. The lady begrudgingly nodded. Gen fell back, contemplating how stupid that was. All it would take was some monsters, a beer or two, and he''d be a soldier-whipping dagger-throwing murder machine? Kat would think Dragons made a great transport, or jump from tree to tree with reckless abandon? Sure, the vaguely superhuman things seemed to be from the ''external mana'', but for it to be something in them that was brokenбн He almost couldn''t believe it. Almost.

    The muscle-bound woman shot to her feet. "If you no use magic, how did your race ascend? To dominate all other sentient race?" She asked, suddenly intense. The pressure from her just speaking was impressive- more effects of ''magic'', then? "We built things. Went above and beyond our competition," he responded, almost proud, even if he was stammering. Her eyes made his skin crawl, like he was being stared down at by something immeasurably tall.

    "How many of you are there? You are small race, yes? The number is getting so high, now. Tiny worlds." She asked, seeming to relax a bit with every word coming from her mouth. The pressure fell from him like a blanket, tugged away all at once.

    "Seven billion- wait, was it eight? It''s hard to-" She was staring at him again even before he finished speaking, and suddenly, he felt limp. Her eyes were wide, and the friendly gazes she had given them from before were replaced with something like awe or terror. She paced back a few steps, shouting for the guards. "Iбн I need to ask you more questions before you go. Please do not resist, you three." She gave a stern gaze to each of us, head sweeping from one end of the room to the other. The pressure was back The guards walked in, pulling him up from the floor and taking him to one of the other doorways in the hall- it lead to a staircase to the bottom floors.

    They were unceremoniously slapped into a cell. The boulder''s insides were nearly hollow, and it had an infinity of cells on layer after layer of the basement. They had been dumped in a floating Alcatraz with a strong magic lady as their warden and hadn''t even realized it. The cells were empty, sans Gen himself, Kat, and Merrilyn. At least, that was what he had thought. When he looked around, he realized that wasn''t the case. It was just Kat and him.

    Merrilyn was gone.

 013: "the rockets red glare,"

    They had been locked for hours on end in that dimly lit cell, unguarded. Unmonitored. Kat was almost too aware of the fact that they had been left alone. Just the two of them. She had started to get used to having someone else around, of having a party of three. Where had Merrilyn gone? When had she even left? She had been there, and then she hadn''t. In all likelihood, the guards were too busy hunting her down to be concerned about two useless locked-up teens that were so bad at magic.

    It was a fair evaluation. Any other day, they might have been dead-set on harnessing their realizations about the existence of magic to break out, or to use some other means. By god, they had left Gen with the few daggers he had left. It would have almost been easy to break out of the rusty old slammer if they had her bag with them, but it was long gone. A casualty to the Dragon ride that she hadn''t been lucid enough to care about up to this point.

    Instead, they sat and talked. It was a real good talk, in which neither of them was under duress or at risk of being murdered. Two people, locked in a cell. She hadn''t known how uncomfortable Gen was about leading, how the fact he just let his family die was eating at him, how he had been killing things left and right and it was destroying him slowly from the inside. She hadn''t heard exactly what he went through in the cave, or how he crippled his hand, or how he got that miraculous grey hide. It was gruesome, an awful lot to live with.

    The stories she told were more about back home. How she lived with her mother. The way she caused trouble, and how stupid it seemed in hindsight. Told him why she started calling herself Kat, and how she had been through a little hell of her own when her dad died. It seemed so trivial, but Gen hung on every word. He almost seemed to relish how normal it all was. It wasn''t like he treated it like it was trivial or anything, but there was a certain understanding that it was all in the past. Something she had overcome, or at least, she was overcoming.

    They talked for those many hours, just two souls chattering in the night. Sitting close, acting casual, like they might have back home. It was almost therapeutic. She needed this. They needed this. A relaxing night to really figure out what they were, to figure out what they were to each-other, and where they were going to.

    Then there was an explosion.

    They couldn''t see the explosion, but they could hear it. Feel it. The boulder shook, the blast rang through the night. Then, there was nothing. All was still again. After a few minutes, they almost convinced each-other that it was a shared hallucination of some kind, or just an earthquake, or something silly like that.

    Then there was another explosion. Several, in fact. The boulder hardly had time to stop jangling about before the next one broke the night. By that point, they clung to the small barred window in the back of the cell, desperate to see what exactly was going on. Naturally, the darkness denied them that opportunity. They were too low to see the surface, anyway. Kat''s blood was pumping, she was ready to run and jump and climb all over again. To start moving, and never stop. Whatever placebo she concocted for herself from the absence of the external mana was fading. The Adventurer was in there, whether she liked it or not. They stood like that, Gen and her, just close together and staring out the window, waiting for the next big boom. It never came. Her excitement died.

    They left the window, and Gen started pacing. He seemed to be intent on something, mulling it over. Then he whipped around and kicked the everliving shit out of one of the ancient cell bars. It crumpled under the blow, popping out of the socket and clattering to the floor. Kat gawked.

    "Focus the power to your legs, rather than your ears," He said, grinning.

    She did. It felt amazing, like she was back in the Jungle again. Suddenly her blood was pumping. How would they escape? Where had Merrilyn gone? Kat had some questions that needed answering and there was only one way to fill them in- an adventure. She had some ideas for ''escape routes'' and most of them were dangerous and risky and tons of fun.

    She jetted out of the cell; brushing past Gen. He sprinted to keep up. The old hut (mini Alcatraz) passed in a blur. There were no guards, no angry muscle-wizard lady to stop them. They were alone on the boulder. Kat ran for the nearest chain, hopping down on to it. Thankfully, it was held taut by the weight already, so it didn''t bounce- much. It was like a tightrope. She walked along it, balancing over the abyss.

    The bubble of darkness was far more interesting from the inside. Her vision fell away, just for a moment, and she felt the gentle tug of whatever magical construct had been made. Then she was out, her vision clear, and she could see it all. Gen was treating the chain more carefully, shimmying along it from below, hanging using his legs and arms. His left hand may have been out of commission, but his biceps seemed to be working just fine. He was going to be there awhile, though.

    So she climbed. She wanted to make good time on the quarry, and if she didn''t have the full extent of the magical empowerment, any headstart was a good headstart. Why wait for Gen if she could scout ahead and call up to him when it was safe?

    The climb was surprisingly easy. The ascent actually seemed to be made to be climbable, which made just a bit of sense. She hadn''t seen any ladders or caves leading down to the pit, just the elevators. It did look like some places used to be tunnels, for mine-carts perhaps, but they had been filled in, possibly for stability. Still, it took a while. Merrilyn must have lucked out with the shadow bubble. Kat had the feeling it was supposed to help them establish a watch, or set up unseen archers, or just be plain intimidating, but it was unmanned at the moment. Since that was the case, it probably just provided her cover on the climb. There were fair few places to hide, barring maybe laying down on the little miner''s pathways.

    It would be dark soon. The sun was setting, dusky light filtering down from below. Kat was high enough to see the bridges now, hanging loftily above, seemingly entirely unsupported. It was impressive engineering, however it was done. She kept climbing, making good time. When she realized that spreading the mana in all of her extremities made her even faster, she made better time. The city above was eerily quiet. No more booms, no shouts or clatter or caravan rolling through. If the city was under attack, they were certainly calmer than she expected. Kat had seen people frenzy just because of an itty bitty storm back home.

    She could see that Gen had finally made it to the base of the cliff, starting his climb. If it was a race, he had lost handily. She was near the top, in fact. Just one or two more heaves, and her head would be over the edge-

    The city was burning. The markets were almost miraculously untouched, but parts of the city Kat hadn''t even seen whole were demolished. She was at the far side of the hole, now, the side on which the caravan had gone. It was some sort of command structure, a small fort within the city walls, with wooden barracks and an archery range and little guard-posts. The fort was still mostly standing proud, but one of its walls had been blown clean off. She could see inside, the structure''s internals mostly unharmed, some of the wooden and stone floors suddenly unseated or sagging. It was a bit like a doll house that had been split apart to reveal the occupants; just with more corpses. She could see at least two bodies, unfortunate victims who had been close to the wall when it was bombed, buried in the collapse. The job was almost too clean; there should have been more wreckage. If the individual floors were constructed to modern standards, no one may have died at all.

    The barracks were another matter. Someone, or a group of someone''s, had lit the grassy field on fire. It was all burning, wreckage and collapsed structures everywhere she looked. The little semi-circle of terrain was draped in smoke and heat. The guard and militia wouldn''t be going home for the night, Kat figured. When she climbed just a little higher, she got a better look at the long road heading towards the other gate, the one they didn''t come through.

    The gate wasn''t there. In its place was a pile of rubble, an impressively ornate pile of rubble, but demolished none the less. Rather than a market, that road seemed to have most of the services and homestays, the inns, taverns, eateries, and higher-class shops. Those, too, were on fire. People stood huddled in the middle of the road, gawking at the flames that surrounded them. Their livelihoods, up in smoke. They couldn''t even run out the gate for water; the gate was gone. By the time they made it to the lake from the other side, anything and everything would be gone. It was a saving grace that the undercity, the housing and residences that sat to the far sides of the roads and in-between them, had not caught fire. At the least, most everyone had probably escaped before the fires took them.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    They all looked so confused. The guard was nowhere Kat could see, the civilians were just in shock at the wreckage all around them. There was no attacking army, no giant monster attacking. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew what was going on, even if they didn''t. It was too much for her to even suppose that meek lady would ever-

    Gen popped his head up, surveying the wreckage. His scout had been hanging out on the lip of the giant hole for a while, and he could see why. It was a lot to take in. Still, they needed to capitalizeon this. There was a decent chance that it was all intentional, that he could work it in to a more overarching goal. Kat nearly tipped backwards when she saw his head pop up from nowhere, but she caught her balance swiftly, flipping herself up the last little step to the ground above. If nothing else, she was athletic.

    He climbed up as well as he could. If magic was so useful, why couldn''t it fix his damned hand? He wanted to be a general, not a pirate.

    The fire was prohibitive. He wanted to go raid the barracks, but if the fire spread any faster, it would light the entire archery field on fire. It would be risky enough to run all the way there, let alone run back. Furthermore, anyone in the barracks might be dead, but there had clearly been people in the fort before the chaos started. What if they were still manning it, wary of the next attack? No, it''d be safer to seek out the slums and look for Merrilyn. Whether or not they had to skip town would have a lot to do with the events to come. Even if Merrilyn had not done what he thought she did, they could very well be blamed for it. Cosmically bad timing, in that case.

    "Kat. How do you feel about outrunning the guards?" He asked.

    "I don''t. I haven''t seen them run."

    She shook her head. Gen figured as much, but it should be fine either way. As long as her inner Adventurer weren''t telling her to head for the hills, she could probably win the race. He continued, "We''re going for the slums. Look for anything you could use as a weapon."

    For his part, he pulled out one of his daggers. This was the old Kukri he had found on a Dwarf corpse. He wondered if it would score him any reputation with the group if he returned it. They were fairly close to the Jungle- or at least the Dragon ride made it feel that way- and he saw quite a few Dwarf-like people in the market. Maybe the dead adventurers had come from around here? Not that it mattered anymore. The scary bit would be crossing the bridge. Bridges were danger. You couldn''t trust them to be empty, stay empty, or shelter you. In many cases, it meant there would only be two escapes, and both were choke-points. Even in Earthian history, where there weren''t giant chasms lying around everywhere, bridges had decided battles.

    It made him nervous, running along the massive bridge. They were heading towards the nigh-empty market, sure. There had been no muscle-men or goblins or dwarves or anything, sure. It still wasn''t enough to make prickling crawling up his spine go away. Kat must have been able to tell how uncomfortable he was with the situation, too. Rather than running at top speed, she was actually keeping pace with him. Even at his pace, they made good time. It was nice, running across the bridge in the sunset, side by side with her. He was almost tempted to put down his general cap and go back to flirting.

    Nothing was ever easy, though. He wasn''t complaining. At this point, he was practically addicted to chaos.

    As they neared the end of bridge, markets in sight, guards filed out from the side-roads and lined up, shoulder to shoulder. Most were Frankensteins, but a few Goblins were mixed in. They had spears and bows drawn, and the Goblins covered gaps between them with little daggers and sharp glares. One of the ones near the middle shouted at them. Gen almost forgot to channel mana back to his ears, and as they kept running, they guards got tenser.

    "Halt, in the name of the Law." The guard shouted again. So he did. Kat was reluctant, but when he put a hand on her shoulder as she passed by, she stopped too.

    He stood resolute, sweeping a gaze over the small army. As confidently as possible, he spoke.

    "You really, really don''t want this fight."

    The guards crouched. Fury washed over their faces, but also apprehension. Their city was on fire and the culprits were some strange, un-muscled race that could evidently use magic, where one such specimen dared to speak so arrogantly to a crowd of armed guards.

    "Advance, two paces." The leader shouted at them, addressing once more the grey-cloaked traveler. "You will subject yourself to scrutiny or you will be a criminal outright. Comply, now."

    Gen started chuckling. He was certain of it, now. What Merrilyn was doing, and why she was doing it. It dawned on him like the light new day, even as the sun was setting. This world had a lot of learning to do. He charged at the guards. They tensed, ready to strike at him, holding the line. Before he got in spear''s reach, he tucked the dagger back in his jerkin and swerved, launching himself for the bridge''s railing, flinging his body over the edge. The guards shouted, shocked, and any semblance of military discipline they had fell apart. A few of them rushed to the edge, to see where he had gone. Morbid curiosity, perhaps.

    He hadn''t fallen, though. He had launched himself for the cliff-face, a safe route to soil, well behind their little trap. The impact hurt like hell, but pain was a trivial thing. What was important was that he caught the ground, clung to it, and before the guards could really make sense of it, he was back to his feet. The thud and rumble of the ground beside him as he climbed up told him Kat had followed suit. The girl would probably be on her feet and sprinting before he even made it to his feet.

    The guards gawked. Even the slipperiest of thieves hadn''t tried something as stupid as that. It was practically suicide, an untenable risk. Surrender and trial had a higher chance of survival. They reacted late, the few soldiers fast enough to react breaking rank completely to chase after the two little creatures running from them. The goblins would have had a better shot at catching them, but they were stock-still. If the guards were surprised and awed, the goblins were shocked to the extreme.

    It was common knowledge to the Goblin that the big ones had lost their brain. In the Homeworld, it was said that the Goblin''s survival and success was from their nimbleness, their dedication to a singular cause, their decisiveness. They had been a great race, once. The First Ones had even revealed that they were one of the Twenty, long in the past. It was only a matter of lost tradition that relegated their once-proud race to backwaters like this. They still had the tales, the great stories of old, but no living specimen to learn from. They were guards, assistants, merchants, and thieves, but never warriors. Not true Goblins.

    The first human had trusted his life to the Plan, cripple or no, and flew. He had maneuvered around superior strength or numbers with a smile and a bluff and unwavering dedication. This, the Goblins were awed by. The male was a Goblin in Gomen clothing. Perhaps that was why they were so big, so pale. They were in disguise.

    The real shock had come from the female one. She had no trust in the Plan, but she had absolute faith in her Chieftain. Before he even hit the Great Pit''s wall, she was in the air. Without a single word, she leapt and followed and even surpassed him, intuiting his goal. They were a perfect cell, a unit in motion. They had no wings, but they had flown. Perhaps it wasn''t as dangerous as the Goblins or the Gomed had thought, that it was the right plan for such an agile race. Even as one of the shocked guards said as much, the Goblins shook their head in unison.

    There were other choices to make. The two could have run back to the other side, or stolen an elevator to return from whence they came. They could have submitted and escaped as the group tried to apprehend them. Of all of the things they could have done, they had not chosen the ''correct'' one, or the ''right'' one. They had chosen the most effective. The one that would, should they succeed, aid in completing the Plan. Failure had not been an option to the creatures. The Goblins knew this feeling, they recognized this. It conjured images of their heroes long past, the great ones who they had heard of as children. The male and the female had no wings, but they flew, because the Plan and the Chieftain demanded it. That was what broke the Goblins. Their Gomed compatriots recovered, those who had not chased the two. They shook them and spoke to them, but they were lost to the world. They had always been lost to the world, and they had never even known it.

    They had seen what a Goblin was. What a Goblin should be. The first Goblins in centuries, and they weren''t even green. They had disappeared into the distance. Like clockwork, each member of their little platoon exchanged glances, and marched, leaving behind the confused Gomed. They needed to capture the two, at all costs. Not for the silly laws or their jobs, those were inconsequential. It was a burning need, to find out what drove the two specimens so, something they had to learn- no matter the cost.

    The spark of a Great Race, once abandoned and left to die, has finally been relit.

 014: "bombs bursting in air,"

    Kat wasn''t sure what they were looking for, or hoping to find. She just knew that she was happy to be running, again. As strange as it was, fleeing from those guys with the pointy sticks made things just that little bit more comfortable. It was a kind of homecoming for her. Gen had figured out a way to get her past the guards, and by God, did she take him up on that offer. The jump was cool, but running through that massive city with virtually no-one around her was something else. It was like she had fallen into a painting of medieval times, completely devoid of distracting things like ''people''. Just her and the city. She could get used to this.

    Eventually, she found a sufficiently tall shop. It was a little wooden thing, hardly a hut, but it would conceal her well enough until Gen caught up. At some point, she must have started sprinting at full speed, because he was nowhere to be seen. There was a little bit of satisfaction in ''winning the race'', but it was outweighed by her wariness. What if she had left him behind to be captured? She didn''t want to be left alone, even if it meant a bit of uncomfortable waiting on a roof somewhere. It didn''t take long for him to catch up, though.

    Gen popped up over the horizon. In true General fashion, he arrived with an army. She was pretty sure it wasn''t his, though. As they approached, she shot to her feet. Gen was being chased by hundreds- no, thousands- of goblins. She hadn''t even thought there were that many goblins in the city, let alone ready to mobilize like that. The guard had seemed pretty lax, was this where they all were? She couldn''t see a single Frankenstein in the crowd, though. The green tide washed over the market, and while they weren''t fast enough to catch Gen- who looked positively horrified for the first time in a while, Kat noted- they didn''t miss a beat. He was running through the middle of the road and making good time, but even the goblins who were brushing through stalls and around walls were keeping pace. They practically floated over chairs, under tables, around structures- some even climbed buildings, like she had.

    In fact, one of them spotted her, and promptly shrieked, hollering over and over like a siren, pointing right at her. She spelled her ears, and suddenly she wasn''t so certain these Goblins were with the guard.

    "The other one! The other one! The other one is there!"

    The goblin wouldn''t relent, and she realized that just listening was a waste of time, and that she didn''t necessarily have time to waste. They had closed the distance with impressive speed, and in fact, Kat was quite sure she had never seen Gen run quite that fast. She hopped from the roof, rolling, getting up to speed. The tide behind her was high as it washed over the building she had just been standing upon. Gen was huffing and panting and generally miserable.

    "Nice day for a run, isn''t it?" She asked, politely. He turned his head to shoot daggers at her with his eyes, and upped his (already impressive) pace. She was pretty sure they were breaking all kinds of long-distance sprinting records. He was positively out of breath, so she decided not to prolong the run. She could see some things they could do to buy some time already. First, she hit her top speed, dusting Gen and the crowd once more. Her legs were positively searing, but that wasn''t consequential.

    She tilted, sidling over to one of the market stalls. She converted her run into a shove, yanking upwards at one of the tent''s poles. The momentum carried it, and the pole came up with her. She reclaimed her pace, tugging hard at the thing, finally getting free. The pole was still mounted, now helping her to drag the tarp and the other three poles behind her. It was hard to run with the weight, but she wouldn''t need another mad dash. At least, not if everything went right.

    Gen caught up, still chugging along. She whispered to him. "Duck into to the nearest right-hand alley when I shout ''now''. When you''re in it, follow me."

    She paused, rethinking that a bit. "By that, I mean when I let you catch up to me."

    Gen fumed, but for the time being, he didn''t seem capable of retorting. He settled for more glaring. Kat figured he was listening, though, so it would be a matter of timing. They were getting awfully close to the massive gates, so she''d have to enact her plan sooner rather than later if they didn''t want to make a mad dash for the trees. So she looked about. There! Up ahead was a wide enough alley for her idea.

    She slid over, trailing the wall. Gen followed suit, maintaining a stable distance from her. The goblin stampede was so close, but that didn''t matter. She hefted the pole as high as she could take it, shouting "Now!"

    The goblins heard the shout, saw her lift the pole. The two creatures they were chasing disappeared behind the tarp, running away. They hurried as one, hoping to catch them off-guard. They gained ground, nearly to them, and one especially talented individual made a leap for the tarp. It fell away. The horde descended on it, gathering on the spot where they had trapped their mark. To their shock, though, there was nothing there. It was just the tarp itself, the empty streets and alleys, and the goblins themselves. They were gone.

    The two had disappeared, and by the time a goblin had worked out the trick, they were long gone. The goblins were shocked, again, perfectly still. Under all of their eyes, in all of their fervor, they had been foiled once more. The female had devised a trick to play on their weaknesses so quickly, and then enacted it to such great effect. As long as it was for their Plan- whatever it was- they were unstoppable. Dedication to the Plan was important, but it was not the only agent they could use. Misdirection was another such powerful tool. Many of the great Goblins of old had not been mighty, or geniuses, or even mages, but instead had been strategists and hooligans who used any underhanded method they had to attain their goals. Once more, they found another shred of faded Goblinhood, traces of something they had forgotten or ignored in favor of a simpler existence. The fetters of time and submission were falling away.

    Kat tossed up the tarp as she ran, just as she turned into the alley. With some timing and a little bit of effort, she had successfully distracted the goblins and covered their route. The next bit was harder. After entering the alley, she and Gen climbed to one of the shops'' roof, and as quickly as feasible, began to hop and climb between them. The distraction wouldn''t last forever, though, so she had them hop down once they were far enough over. The alleys were twisting and winding, but with the various homes and hovels and local stores, they could make sure there was never a direct line of sight. As long as they could keep their precise location unknown, they were at an advantage.

    Vanishing acts weren''t practical, in a larger sense. It had been a bit of dumb luck, in many ways. Gen probably never would have even considered it. Thankfully, she wasn''t Gen. You couldn''t always focus on group tactics when it was these sort of tricks that could bail you out of danger. Hell, it was a matter of the environment, too. The dim light of the setting sun was helpful for a little bit of roguery, and while she had never seen a magic show in the dark, they had always at least been a little dim.

    They ran through the neighborhoods, street-corners, and slums, before Kat was finally satisfied they were far enough away. She wrenched open the door to one of the stone homes, ducking inside. Gen followed suit. The home was lit by a few tiny candles. It was a small thing, built in two stories, but with only one room in each. The ground floor had a few chairs, a table, and storage- a kitchen, mostly. More importantly, there were also people- two Frankenstein-people, or so she thought.

    They were huddled in the back. The bigger one, who looked to be the mother, favored her left side. It wasn''t something tenable for military work, in any case, so there she was, stuck at home. She suspected there was a reason the father wasn''t there with them. The child was a boy, and helooked generally "normal", bar hisstrange little face. They looked up at them, terrified.

    "We will all go upstairs. Do not misbehave." Gen said, freeing one of his knives. He aimed the point from them to the staircase in the back, a rickety wooden little thing. The mother was the first to respond, pulling herself to her feet and her child up along with her. Kat wasn''t quite sure how she felt about this, but it was necessary. They needed a place to hide, at least for the night. So they''d need this little hut, one way or another. The woman climbed the stairs, eyes never leaving Gen or his knife. He followed them up, ushering Kat along with him.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The upstairs had two matrasses, probably stuffed with straw. Presumably, this small upper floor was the ''bedroom''. It must have been awkward for the kid to share it, for a few reasons, but that was probably the standard for this era. The townhouse hadn''t really been implemented yet, and it wasn''t feasible. Kat noted the rarity of metal- for all of the stone and wood, there were hardly any metal implements. If there was no way to mass-produce hinges, or nails, then it made even the little door they had barged through quite expensive. That said, there were probably other solutions, but the situation simply wasn''t conducive to large, multi-room spaces.

    The two cowered in the back of the ''bedroom'', and Kat tried her best not to look too intimidating. The mother had a dangerous look in her eye, a sort of ''hurt-my-kid-and-I''ll-break-your-neck'' stare that set Kat''s instincts on end. The two of them had fought enemies, an astonishing amount of them in fact, but never one that looked so cornered, and certainly not one that was going to accept any amount of losses to take them out. She had quickly realized, seeing Gen fight especially, that someone with no real grasp on self-preservation had quite a few advantages. They would be injured, perhaps badly, but they would win.

    With a massive army of Goblins behind them, it wouldn''t be a good idea to start a risky fight. Kat thought back to her high school psychology classes, and to some of the long conversations she and her mother had.

    "Ask us questions," She said, spelling her voice. The mother shrunk back more, visibly confused. Gen gave her a curious glance, but he didn''t stop her. The room was silent for a while, a standstill.

    Quite sensibly, the first words out of the lady-Frankenstein''s mouth were "Are you going to kill us?" Gen promptly shook his head. There would be too much of a mess, and they risked too much in the engagement, even if it would reduce the chances of things going wrong later down the line significantly. He didn''t need to present it quite soбн callously, though, so he just left it at "No."

    She looked at him, face guarded and mouth in a prim little frown. That was good, Kat thought. The lady may not trust them, but she didn''t need to. She wasn''t in the same ''mode'' she had been just before, where they were voiceless, strange monsters jabbing knives at her and her child. It was a dialogue, albeit a dangerous one. "Why are you here?" She asked, still tense.

    Kat replied, this time. "We need to stay, and then we will leave. Just for a short time." The next question came a bit faster- maybe too fast. "Are you hiding from the guard?" She asked. Her entire body language shifted, she was ready to make some noise or run for help if they tried anything. Gen gripped the knife a bit more tightly and his eyes said he definitely wasn''t happy about how messy this situation might become. Sure, she wasn''t a cornered rat, but now she was using her brain. Less dangerous, but more liable to throw a wrench in their plans.

    Kat shook her head. "It''s a mob of goblins. They''re after us." The lady looked surprised. If they were lying, that was a strange one to choose. The goblins were merchant-folk and tradesmen, what had the two done to attract their ire? If it was a matter of a ''mob'', thoughбн

    The Franken-lady nodded. She took her child and they both sat one the larger of the two mattresses. The little boy was happy to sit, and as some of the tension left the air, he started to look at them, curiously. The Franken-lady wasn''t hostile for the moment, but she definitely wasn''t comfortable with the situation, her eyes never leaving them. Gen lowered his knife, carefully. "It''s our turn now, miss." He said, returning her gaze. "Just a few questions. Let''s start with who you''re-" He seemed to be searching for words. They had no idea if the concept of ''Marriage'' had been effectively translated to this world. They had yet to see a real religious institution, even. "You had the child with." He finished.

    The lady frowned a bit. "He is a guard. His name is Netya." She said. Gen groaned. They couldn''t afford to get sandwiched between a guard and his wife''s mean left hook. They had already been in the house for at least five minutes, and the situation outside was hazy enough as it was. What if the guards had started clean-sweeping homes for them? There hadn''t even been an explosion in ages.

    "What is the boulder in the middle of the pit?" He asked. Kat perked up a bit, at that. The structure was just so strange, and the muscle-wizard had caught her interest. The lady''s eyebrows rose, surprised. "It is the place where we evaluate newcomers. You- you went there?" Gen nodded, and she gawked a bit. "The Marchioness guards it. For you to escapeбн" She almost seemed impressed. The facility had seemed in disarray to them, but evidently it had some serious importance to the locals. Kat realized that comparing it to Alcatraz might not have been so far off, after all. Of course, without the explosions, escaping the facility would have been far more challenging. Not impossible, but challenging.

    In any case, if it was meant as a half-way point for evaluating new races, maybe they shouldn''t have broken out. It was water under the bridge, now, and Gen seemed to have attained a new purpose along the way. Maybe it was for the best. He shrugged noncommittally, and then nudged Kat. She rubbed at her arm, offended, but he pointed to his ear. She got the idea. She dispelled it, refocusing the mana entirely in her tongue. It positively buzzed with the energy of it, a bit like she was drinking something fizzy.

    "I know this isn''t a question, but repeat after me. Cyclotrimethy-" Kat wasn''t sure what he was saying, but it sure wasn''t English. She wondered what she would hear with spelled ears, if anything. Also, what the Franken-lady would hear. It was being interpreted to her by the magic, after all.

    The lady was visibly puzzled, and when she repeated it, Kat was surprised. She nudged Gen in the side, definitely not as payback, and said "It''s the same. What does that mean?"

    He scowled. "The bombings have got to be Merrilyn. Whatever language it''s interpreting to has no indigenous word for RDX. Kind of like how ''Television'' in Japanese is essentially ''Television'', or something like that." He said, ethereal echo gone from his voice. The lady had no idea what was going on, and she had never heard of a Mage failing to translate a word like that. At least, not outside of some very extenuating circumstances, like a ritual or custom their race held that the rest of the myriad had not. Kat, on the other hand, caught on quick.

    "She made C-4!?" She shouted. She toned down her voice after that, afraid to spook their captives-slash-hosts too much. "How could she even do that?"

    Gen shrugged. "We don''t really know that much about the lad- girl. She could be anyone. I''m just some military enthusiast, but even I spotted some dangerous chemicals and shit they had just set out in the market." He paused. "Also, I doubt she made C-4. That''d take forever. We''re looking at buckets and buckets of RDX she slapped together andбн Ignited? I''ve got no clue how she''s managing the detonation, it shouldn''t be feasible, even if she''s got a way to cook it."

    He slapped his forehead. "No wonder. This is- or was, I guess- a mining town. It''s not hard to make firecrackers if they''ve got blackpowder lying around. I never would have even considered trying something like this."

    Terrorism and arson were things of the past back home. Careful monitoring permeated life, in many ways, and obtaining legitimately dangerous material was a hazard in and of itself. There had only been one recent case Gen could think of. A series of bombings in the south-west. The criminal, publicly nicknamed the ''Tornado Bomber''. They hadn''t put out any demands or warning. The detonations started out of the blue, sweeping through the area. Neither the supplier or arsonist had been identified, nor were they six bombings later. As quickly and unceremoniously as the bombings stopped, they had ended. The whole panic had lasted just under a month, with several dead, a significant number of people injured, and brand new wreckages sitting where a shop or facility had been not long before.

    Gen groaned. He had really hoped it was just a coincidence, even if he wanted to use the explosions as leverage. Sadly, that didn''t seem to be the case. Of all of the people who had been dropped into this new world, and of all of the people they could have rescued, they had managed to save an actual lunatic. Suddenly, he was pretty sure the ''therapists'' hadn''t been for Merrilyn''s ''social anxiety''.

    The "Tornado Bomber" was loose, a goblin army was after him, and he still hadn''t even got the ball rolling. What a night this was turning out to be.

 015: "but, deep in the night, the flag was not there."

    They spent about an hour in that little house. The goblins hadn''t broken down the door or hunted them down, so wherever they had went, they were probably a good ways away. Gen wasn''t sure how Kat had managed it, but the muscled lady had calmed down enough he could even catch some shut-eye. Well, it had only been thirty minutes- he took a nap and had Kat on guard-duty, and then he switched with her and let her rest. It was sleep, nonetheless, and no matter how far they''d get off the rocker, everyone needs sleep at some point. He still desperately wanted to slap himself down on the spare mattress and spend the whole night there, on a real bed for the first time in the God knows how long it had been since they arrived in this new world, but he couldn''t afford it. There was too much to do.

    He poked Kat, trying to wake her. It was time to move. She shuddered, muttering something about "five more minutes" and "the sleep button", but when he shook her a just a tinybit, she went lucid. Her eyes shot open and she tensed. When she saw it was just him and there were no little green men clustered around the smallroom, she relaxed a little. He was pretty sure she was peeved about being woken up so soon, but they really couldn''t afford that much time. Things would only get harder with the rising sun. All things considered, she handled it pretty well. When she woke him up, he nearly took her arm off before he realized what was going on.

    Gen stood, properly addressing the two strangers in the room. The muscle-bound mother was still awake, eyes trained on them but not nearly as hostile as they had been when they first arrived. Her child was sleeping, of course. It was well past curfew, no matter what world you were in. "Thank you for your compliance. It will be remembered." He said. He almost blushed- that line was entirely too ''Darth Vader'' for his tastes. Kat chuckled a little, but the woman seemed to be taking it well. She nodded gravely, otherwise unmoving. She seemed to be waiting for them to just go and leave her and her child alone. Even the kindest of home invaders were still invaders, no matter how you painted it. So they left, without proper goodbyes or time for second thoughts. They needed to get clear of the building before the woman could find someone to tell about their presence.

    The streets were dark, so dark. The only light was that of the moon, which was almost new. No one had come by to light lamps or place candles, and nothing came from the windows of homes, shuttered as they were. More than likely, most everyone had been ordered to hide inside, so most of the buildings were occupied. They probably should have considered that before just picking a door and running in, but it was a bit late for regrets. They ran along the dark corridors, rarely slowing down to take in the details and feel out for walls when it became too dim to move at speed. Gen was in the lead, this time. He had a pretty good idea of where Merrilyn had gone. They made good time despite the circumstances, reaching once more the market where they had been chased before. Within the clearing, a few solemn candles still burned. The distant glow of the traveler''s district- the inns and eateries- had finally given way to pure smoke. The fire was likely almost over, if not entirely.

    This time, it was not empty- not entirely. He didn''t know where she was hiding before, but she had probably been giving the guard the slip like they had tried to avoid the goblins. Now, she was in broad daylight- moonlight?- and holding her arm above her head. She was directly below the gate, and surrounded by guards. They kept their distance, but and despite their relative size, there was enough of a gap between them he could see her. Merrilyn, the third member of their little crew. The first thing he noticed was that she was holding a misshapen block of something yellow and tan, with a cloth ''handle'' sticking out of the structure. His guess had been right, more or less. It was some variety of RDX, complete with a hand-made detonator. She had been industrious, too- he could spot several more of the blocks sitting on the ground at either end of the massive gate. That was probably the main reason she wasn''t being brutally murdered, or at least apprehended, at the moment. She had set up her own chain detonation, one the guard didn''t understand, but one that certainly had the power to level the only other gate into- or out of- the city.

    Everything else he took in all at once. Her skin was pale in the night, and paired with her face, she looked like a ghost. Her face was the picture of ''calm'', and despite the fact she was holding explosives, she seemed unworried and unconcerned. A bit too unconcerned, in fact. Even when she noticed their approach, she merely glanced at them and nodded slightly. There was no surprise, happiness, relief, tears, or even just overwrought drama like what they had come to expect from her. Gen had never seen her ''calm'', not even once. In the short time they were in a group, she had been the most expressive of the three.

    Deliberately. That was the theory, anyway. A good Generalissimo did not ignore his soldiers'' personality, or their mental state. He had learned the basics of evaluating these things at a younger age, around the time he had wanted to really start crushing it in the little skirmishes they had. By building a profile, he could start to play around ''who they were'' rather than preset strategies and expectations. He had applied the same concepts to his own team, when they still let him have one. It was a function of time and experience, and it distinguished those who would be stabbed in the back by a misevaluated soldier from those who would fall unconscious and wake up on the back of their trusted officer on the way to the military hospital. At least, that was the thought. If he had access to modern psychology, why not use and abuse it?

    It had been a sub-hobby of his hobby, but he had learned enough. Hardly a professional-grade, but for all of Merrilyn''s talent with acting, she still had lapses. They were not in the comfortable environment she had learned to manipulate, and she had not suitably concealed her nature from the start. It was simply too much of a coincidence that a hapless ''girl'' like her had survived two sets of cannibals all the way to the last day, anyway. That had caught him off guard. He had other guesses as to what really happened in the pit, and why everyone left her alone, but she was the important part. Not what she had done.

    A number of signs had been preeminent, all the way from the start. She had never been nervous in ordinary situations, on hunts or in action, but she was exaggeratedly concerned over ''risky'' endeavors. She had very limited shame, even for someone who underwent such a traumatic scenario or was "steeled" to the situation. She had even tried to use and abuse her shamelessness for social ''points'' from time to time. She was eminently smart, but awkward in circumstances where she should have had a clear reaction, and despite all of her posturing and befriending, she had never really ''connected'' with them like she should have. He had written it off as mostly due to trauma and the ''social anxiety'' she claimed to have (and never consistently demonstrated), but he had always had a suspicion as to her true nature in the back of hismind.

    She was a Sociopath. She was a legitimate sociopath, of the sort that lack fundamental elements of empathy and emotion. Gen suspected that she had been that way long before they had come to the new world, regardless of if it screwed with her head or not. She was a basket-case, a loose cannon, a mad bomber.

    бн

    Not that he cared. So what if she was a bit broken? She was useful. As long as he kept her true nature in mind, they could have a healthy working relationship, even if she would never be as close of a confidant as Kat was at this point. Hell, she might even be more useful on the merits of not caring what he did or said as long as it didn''t harm her chances of survival or well-being. Kat wasn''t a bleeding heart, but she hadn''t quite let go of her sympathies yet. It made her all the more appealing to connect with, to feel some semblance of modernity, but it made her a liability of sorts, too. He could only hope that it wouldn''t be her undoing, in the long-run.

    Merrilyn had set up the stage. She had faded into the dusk like a ghost in the night, rained hell down on the city, and now she had re-appeared, complete with a captive audience. Gen was a bit worried about the absence of the mage-lady, but without extreme circumstances, his plan could work. It was time for action. He stopped walking nearer to the group, veering off to grab a table. It wasn''t super stable, but he needed a platform. Kat helped him bring it along without dragging it. In retrospect, even if he could win fights with one hand tied behind his back (or in this case, crushed near-flat), it was trying to do literally anything else that sucked. It might have been a bit too much to hope for a legitimate prosthesis, but he''d need to replace it with something eventually, at least before his arm started to atrophy or gangrene from ill use.

    He hopped on the table, which they had sat as close to the middle of the road as humanly possible. To his surprise, none had yet turn around. They were impressively well-focused on Merrilyn, who was still stony-faced and immobile. Her eyes were upturned, though, following his actions. She had provided them what she felt was the best odds at an outcome beneficial to her. It was up to him to deliver that. Or, at least, deliver the best outcome for their whole group. So he stood on the table, standing as confidently as he could, and spoke.

    "Submit immediately. We have placed explosives in the nurseries and hostels and your homes. If you disarm now, no more people need to die."

    The soldiers whirled around, startled. Each of the Frankenstein-men was shocked. Even as they moved, Merrilyn withdrew something from her little skirt-pouch with her unused hand. It was a little fire-bug, dead but still plenty functional. She had been striking it to light the fire-crackers, probably. More importantly, she had been bluffing the guards with the RDX, even though she hadn''t prepared to light it. Damn, she was good. Gen couldn''t say much, though. He was bluffing them too. He had no idea if they had placed any bombs anywhere, let alone if she could detonate them remotely. Almost on que, a market stall far behind them detonated, tarp and table alike blown to smithereens. Some of the shrapnel-slash-fruit flew almost the whole way to them. The guards looked suitably horrified, and when the few with their heads on straight stared at Merrilyn inquisitively, she just nodded slightly. Honestly, her demeanor and stoic face were starting to creep Gen out a little bit, no matter who''s side she was on. It was good stuff. He could capitalize on it.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    "She can make that happen anywhere she has set them up. You can see them set by the gate. I''m sure you know what will happen if we blow up the gate itself and then trigger each of the other explosives, yes?" He continued, as confidently as he could. His serious face was coming in handy, or the prospect had scared enough of the guards shitless it simply didn''t matter anymore. They keeled over, throwing down their spears and blades. The carnage that a series of bombings like that one could cause and the chaos that would ensue if the populace was trapped within were intimidating prospects. Merrilyn lowered the fire-bug, replacing it in her pouch, and set down the crystalline explosive. She walked through the guards, and they split like the Red Sea, mortified by the prospect of contact with her. Maybe they had concluded that she was not even of their species, but instead some angel of death. From what Gen could tell, that wasn''t necessarily far off. Lives taken apathetically, out of obligation and necessity rather than pure cruelty. If that didn''t describe the Grim Reaper, he didn''t know what did.

    She paced up to the table and whispered, looking at him. It reached his ears, soft as wind, despite the fact she wasn''t even close to his face. "Those are the last of my batch," she said. He had guessed as much. As fast as RDX could be made with experienced hands, it was hard to say how much access to materials or tools she had. The other explosions were a bluff, too. von Clausewitz had said many notable things in his day, and yet another such example was about that of the field of military deception. "Killing the enemy''s courage is as vital as killing his troops", he said, and sure enough, these guards had lost any courage they might have once had. It was not as permanent of a death as the death of the body, though. He needed to act, and long before this small army recovered its stripes. So he gave his first order.

    "You will leave the city and keep walking until you reach the bottom of the hill. Stay there until you receive further orders," he said. They started to walk before he had even finished speaking. He paused, mulling it over. "The guard named Netya, you will come with us." One guard, otherwise inconspicuous, halted suddenly. He whirled back around. The other guards were suddenly worried, suspicious, and even more scared all at once. How did he know his name? Was there a traitor in their midst? Did they have such knowledge of all of them? They hustled faster, hoping to escape any such attention. Netya could be dealt with later, if he had betrayed them all. "How do you know my name?" The stricken soldier asked. Instead of answering, Gen just smiled at him. "Congratulations! You are now Captain of the Guard."

    Rather than confused, Netya looked indignant at that. "Under who''s authority? On the warden-" Gen cut him off, angrily. "Under my authority. You will respect it, before the night is out." And so he would. So far the situation was proceeding as planned, or similarly enough it wouldn''t matter. The guard was subjugated, and he even had a few daggers to replenish his stash. He hopped down, brushing past his new captain of the guard, snatgging a weapon or two and plunging him into the grey Jerkin. The ''sockets'' were getting a bit loose, but Gen didn''t mind the feeling of the blades sliding about. It almost felt comfortable, like he was getting back to what he was used to. The caliber of these daggers and knives were far lower than his old ones, though, which was a pity. Had the area possessed expert smiths in the past, while the quarry was still being mined?

    "Who are you, whelp?" A voice called from behind. This time they had all been focused elsewhere, caught off guard. Kat dived to the side with impressive speed. A wave of pressure fell on both Merrilyn andhim, and almost instantly, it was hard to even stand, let alone move. Netya, caught in the force, simply keeled over. By the time he had turned around, it was like he had been dropped in a vat of molasses. He focused mana to his neck and mouth, looking the nice Frankenstein mage they had met in the eye. She was furious, impressively so, and she was out for blood. He didn''t let that stop him, though.

    "I am the General, and ruler of this land." He said, as determinedly as he could. The pressure seemed to flag a bit with the words. It was working! Then it wasn''t. The mage redoubled her efforts, fury mixing with apprehension. This night had gone all sorts of wrong, and she would be damned long before she handed up control of the reins to some newcomer. They had done great and terrible things in such short time, and to let her people suffer under their heel was too much to bear. So she tried to crush him, using the simple weight of the mana that responded to her call. It was working, too. The boy''s impudent mouth had closed and his head sagged.

    She was winning, right up until the point that she was tackled from the side. The other girl had actually escaped her grasp and scrambled up to her, slamming into her. Gen recovered quickly, willing himself to his feet. Netya was just limp. Perhaps he had passed out from the shock of being attacked by the town''s mighty Warden. He would need some correcting, should he win this struggle. The Warden recovered quickly, too, and Kat was sent flying. She slammed back-first into one of the stone-brick shops, falling into a pile. Gen could only hope that it was just a concussion and she wasn''t dead. He strode forward, chucking a knife at the muscle-wizard as she lifted herself up. It bounced off her shoulder, edge-first, cutting into her cloth armlets but otherwise failing to do lasting damage. The sudden pain distracted the Warden, long enough for him to channel mana to his good arm and punch her in the face, a strong right-cross. The recoil of the blow hurt like hell, but it got her far worse. She fell back once more, nose spouting blood.

    "Once more. I am the General, ruler of this land." The mana responded, surging to him like it once had in the far-off Jungle. He was cognizant of it now, certain in the feeling. He swished it about his body, letting the accumulating aches and pains wash off of him. It was certainly nice. Merrilyn jogged forward, back to her feet, and started to pummel the downed mage. He had to stop her, pulling her off. The Warden was important, a resource. She had the capacity to be useful, should they stop antagonizing her quickly enough. She was also considerably weaker without the power of the city in her veins.

    At least, that was how she should have been. The Warden suddenly shot up, grabbing them both by the neck, lifting them high. She was furious, terrified, and out for blood. The power was wrested from her, the dominion she had carved out of the husk of a once-great boom town, far away and fortified enough that even the Kaenids were loath to attack them, and these little newcomers had stolen it. Stolen it away! She would retrieve what was hers, and it would happen now. There would be no more back-and-forth or struggling or mercy. She gripped their fragile necks tightly.

    Gen''s vision swam, growing even darker than the night. He could see only fragments of what he should have, little specs blotting out his sight otherwise. He hung there, growing so tired and neck in sheer agony. Suddenly, there was green. From every shop window in his sight, from under every table and over every tent, a little green head popped. He hadn''t even known there were that many hiding spots, before. They surged, a silent mob of menace and intensity, each in step. It was like they were each part of one body, cells operating in unison. They creeped up behind the Warden.

    The Warden shrieked in pain. She turned, releasing the two ragdolls she was holding in her grips, and she could see them. Silent goblins, an army of them, painted for war. She hadn''t even known the friendly little race knew what a war was, rumors of their past or not. Now, though, they were lethal. She had no less than 6 knives, butter knives and butcher''s knives alike, jutting from her calves. Little green hands gripped each, and she tried to move herself. The agony of her calf tightening on the blades was enough to tip her over, and she fell on her side, right by the ragdolls. They were in a circle around them, staring, still stoic. She tried to speak, but one kicked her. They were waiting on something. The impudent boy sat up, and when he did, the fuming mass seemed to relax. They were taking his side?

    Gen wasn''t sure precisely what he did to gather so many goblins, but as he rose, they kneeled in union. He held off of gawking or staring confusedly or being otherwise useless for long enough to take advantage of the moment. The Warden was down, and most of the populace was deferential to him. This would be the last push.

    "These lands, and the people within, are mine. I am the General, and you will obey me." He wasn''t speaking to the Goblins, naturally. The spearhead of all of this chaos, Merrilyn''s escape, and this coup d''etat were all one in the same. The realization that land could be controlled for power, that the mana would grant them strength, was of great value. They needed any advantage they could get, so why not commandeer a city? They already knew that the Crocodile-men could do far more complex magic than the Warden had just demonstrated. What if they used the ''scry'' spells to save their own kind? What if they could expedite advancement, bringing this small city to the modern era? If they could attain control of the locals, they could do so much work, save so many human lives. Merrilyn''s dysfunctional brain probably didn''t care whether or not it had consequences or casualties- this was simply the optimal path to guarantee her survival. Gen wasn''t entirely clean in that regard, either. They were a pair of lunatics, through and through.

    The Goblins stood, once more. They circled them one, and then they dispersed. Suddenly, the horde of militant goblins was just a bunch of individuals once more, going about their business. Many were tending to broken shops or heading for their homes. They had saved their Chieftain and guaranteed his dominance over the Mana. That was more than enough. They would learn from him, day by day, what it meant to be Goblin. Or, at least, they would try. He was not true Goblin, but through him, they could still garner insight. So they dispersed. The only thing the goblins hadn''t lost over time as the centuries passedwas the principle of appearing weak. They had simply taken that principle so far that they hadactually become weak.

    Gen and Merrilyn stood there. The Warden was writhing on the ground, the goblins were going about their night, and Kat was still crumpled in a pile. They had attained victory, and that was true, but the part after winning mattered as much as the win itself- if not more. Though, it was a miracle they made it this far. Whether it was a feat of skill, or luck, simply fate, or a combination of the three born of determination and opportunism, this was the destination they had reached. That journey was over; they had found a home, or at least a more substantial resting place than some stupid cats'' den. This was their land, now, and with it, all of the burdens and responsibilities and options andhope it provided. Not that Merrilyn could feel ''hope'', really, but Gen felt it. For all of the dead and dying he had seen around him, this was his chance to change it. To lead them. He resolved to start moving, and to never stop, to drive for that distant future where this new world was as safe for his people as the home they had been stolenfrom.

    There was work to be done.

 Devoid of Man: Interlude 3

    "Sir, are you sure you should be, wellбн drunk?"

    I lift my head up from the bar-counter just to glare at the stupid apprentice they sent after me. It was a pain to sit up, but it if it meant the guy would just leave me alone, it was worth it. He looked appropriately concerned about the fact that his commanding officer and one of the most powerful people on the entire planes of existence was busy drowning his sorrows in swill. That didn''t mean it wasn''t annoying, though. Everyone needed a day off sometime. Or three. He shrunk back under my gaze, which was also quite appropriate. Unmaking someone wasn''t especially hard, and worse came to worse; I could blame it on the alcohol. No one would call me on it, even if it was technically impossible for me to get ''drunk''.

    "Do you have any actual business, or did they just send you here to laugh at me?" I drawled, exaggeratedly. I tried to imitate the body language and tones of the worst reprobates I had seen. With any luck, that''d be enough for the kid to leave me alone. He didn''t. The bastard actually nodded, either blissfully unaware of the implication that he shouldn''t tell me, or brave enough to tell me anyway. "It''s business, sir. There''s been an unexpected-"

    WHAM

    "-change of territory, in which-"

    WHAM

    "-a stretch of land in the outer-"

    WHAM

    "-ring has been taken by-"

    WHAM

    "-a previously undocumented race."

    WHAM

    The apprentice had been taking his monologue seriously, like he was auditioning for ''dutiful officer'' or something, but as he finished his sentence, he noticed the fact that I had been slamming my head down on the counter. He rushed over to stop me, pulling me back up. He was far too weak for that to be relevant, but I let him do it anyway. The barkeep would get mad if I dented his precious counter any more than it had been already. He hurried around, trying to find something to stop the little dribble of blood ushering out from my forehead. The kid had balls of steel, though. I had expected that little ''exchange'' to be enough for him to take a hint, but he actually kept going. "You know of this unknown race, sir? They seem to have slipped under the ''Lady of the Cauldron''s radar, somehow."

    I practically jump to my feet. It takes all that I have to maintain what little bit of sanity I have left. I had already guessed the poor bastards out in the backwoods that were the Outer Ring would be quickly usurped by their new neighbors, but I didn''t need to hear it- and not so soon. Power struggles and land claiming were normal, hell; wars for dominance were the lifeblood of the entire plane. It was true that they started to take different shapes as you traveled upwards towards the upper echelons of the Hierarchy, but it was all an unending struggle. It wasn''t even rare for new races to quickly stake their claim. Even if they tried to sort the races fairly, there were bound to be imbalances. The Kaenid were a prime example- their kind took to magic like fish in water. No one had expected their Augmentation to make them quite soбн potent.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The circumstances weren''t even, though. They had set the initial ''challenge'' to quite high, given them areas generally inhospitable to their physiology, and hardly ascended any of their seemingly infinite populace. They had overcome all of that, and so soon. That was what had him shivering in his sandals. What would happen once they weren''t hobbled? When they all met up? Further observations of their world had shown that despite a near-universal compatibility with magic, they hadn''t even used it. The vast majority of their race had no clue how to interface with it, and the few who did wasted their potential. What would happen once they figured out how to use their magic? What would happen once they really figured out the Domain system in general? Knowing their history, it was quite likely that they had conquered the territory before they even realized what was really going on. He almost felt bad for the locals.

    I point my finger at the kid, as menacingly as I could muster. I even unfurl my outermost wings. They knock over one of the beer steins, but I could mind that it a minute. "You''re going to go back to whoever sent you and tell them, word for word, that ''the Humans are loose''." I lean over him, abusing my height to make an impression. The apprentice cowers back, twitching from head to toe. He nods vigorously and for an excessively long time, before finally running off, back from whence he came. I wrap my wings back around my torso, let out a deep breath, and ignore the stares of the small army of otherwise terrified bar-goers. They had evidently heard rumors of what happened the last time I had unfurled my wings.

    It was so long ago. The Fifth Race, the (frankly quite disgusting) slug-monsters that were the Atraxos, had been the final race to challenge their eternal dominance. It had been a terrible war, wrought with devilish spells, the most dangerous diseases the Atraxos could manufacture, and hundreds of thousands of dead. I had been a significant contributor to that last bit, especially. Like the others who came before, the Atraxos failed their conquest- and things went back to normal. It was a matter of the civilized to fight and put past their grievances once the time for war was done. When the wounds healed, they almost got along better with the slugs. That was the scary part, though. So long ago, myCommander had impressed upon meone thing: Humanity did not forget. It was perhaps their most unique trait. They could be peaceful or militant, stable or chaotic, they would fill any mold they sought to be poured into- but they never forgot. There had been wars that lead to millions of deaths fought over the murder of one or two, there had been animosity retained for centuries even before the Humans began writing their skirmishes down, and that was just with each-other. He almost pitied the Kaenid, really. They would not be able to cull the Humans so easily, and if they earned their ire, it could be a battle to the death.

    The hard decisions would come when the humans reached their gates, the home of the mighty First Ones, the Angels. The Humans were a spitting image of us, to such a degree it was uncanny, but they lacked ournoble wings, and more notably, ourmannerisms. I didn''t want to consider that outcome, really. How could such a small, embattled populace make it all the way to the Inner Sanctum? Would I even need to consider whether they should attempt genocide, or just surrender outright, or try and convince them to participate in a fair fight like the Atraxos? The Ladies had set some things in motion that may have even stunted that risk. Surely, it would be enough.

    So, down on the (now sticky) bar-counter my head went. The endless concerns were swirling within my brain, but I shut them out once more. I just needed rest. Maybe some more alcohol, too.

 016: Strangers in the night.

    All that exists in the great skies is larger than human comprehension. It is only through numbers that we comprehend them, an abstraction of their true scale and majesty. The feeling of approaching even the moon, the smallest of all of the many astral bodies near the Earth, is exclusive to the lucky few who leave the protective shell of her atmosphere. Granted, it isn''t nearly as exclusive as it was back in the Age of Invention, but the sheer scale of the moon is enough to humble even the most prideful of individuals- what humans could not even seek to do, nature did. It is small in the sky, but a great deal larger in person.

    Those bodies extend even to the New World, albeit they could be considered quite different from the ones back home. The impossibly large ''planet'' that is the Greater Plane spirals around a distant sun, and around it spirals a not-so-distant moon. It still obeys the laws of nature, if perhaps a bit less rigorously than the Earth does. From the perspective of the humans crawling on the surface of the New World, it may even appear to be the same sort of beast. Naturally, that isn''t the case, but they can''t know that. They may never even find out. It''s not easy to see the big picture when you are a mote of dust carried in the wind.

    The New World''s surface was bathed in sunlight. Then, it was deprived of it, only provided the glimmer-light of what managed to bounce off its moon. Consecutively, it was made bright once more- and then dark- and then so on and so forth. An eternal cycle. Relative to the Walled City of the outer reaches, time seemed to pass fast. It was weeks, and then a month. The little conquerors were not the only members of the newest race to survive, though. Quite to the contrary. On this particular day, nearly a hundred were gathered, wading knee deep or waist-deep through a never-ending swamp. They were the picture of a tribe, as though stolen straight from the Paleolithic era, covered in fur-wraps and loincloths and brandishing spears tipped with the claws of some animals they had hunted.

    Naturally, that wasn''t the case. They were modern humans, people lifted from cushy lives and dumped in a great deal of danger without warning or preparation. They had survived their dangers, one and all, and this group of about 110 was all that was left of nearly eight different ''pods''- under half of the total number that they had arrived with. Naturally, some of the groups had twenty or more survivors, while the worst of the bunch merely had three. They had all been gathered into this group, quite willingly. It was a semblance of civilization, and it was led by a semblance of a leader. It was almost like being people again, not just animals fighting to live just one more day.

    James was not a leader. He was a pretty worthless human being, actually. He spent his 32<sup>nd</sup> birthday alone; he spent most of his time playing VR games, and he had hardly seen a woman naked, if you discounted his mother. He had let himself go, since his shitty part-time job didn''t necessitate fitness, and he had been severely overweight by the time he was ''abducted''. In many ways, it had actually been a good thing for him. He had been safe and alive, but he hadn''t been living. Not really. The prospect of being dumped into a setting like this, though? He had lost weight by necessity. He earned the respect of his group in a number of ways. They had been placed in an abandoned cave below the flood-lands, with only a few chutes of light and air to breathe through. Food was limited to the last remnants of the little termite-things that had dug the cave, the few invalids that hadn''t followed their swarm on to the next nest.

    He hadn''t eaten them. He willingly abstained, eating away his fatty reserves (and a fair deal of muscle, but he even tried to keep up a regimen despite the pain in his gullet, which helped). He was a perfect gentlemen to the women, and when their dignity had been put in jeopardy by some of the bachelors and older teens who were ''pent up'', he was the first to set them straight. Discussion and fisticuffs- James could hardly believe that he remembered how to throw a solid right hook, but for some reason, his memory was working excellently- and some light ribbing was all it took to get things in a line. He came up with a schedule that would allow the guys some time to ''relieve themselves'' and strove to find a more peaceful way to court the ladies that were interested. Dating in a dark cave with no clothes while near-starving was, unsurprisingly, much harder than it had been back at home.

    It was the most alive he felt in a long time. It felt like he was a therapist, a monk, and that one cool mayor everyone in town liked, all rolled into one. When someone finally worked out how to leave safely without drowning everyone, they had looked to him to make the call. They got out of their little cave, out into a flooded wilderness of danger at every turn. It was everything James could have hoped for- in a game. They had been one of the few groups to leave with all thirty members intact, but to the current point in time, only ten of his initial ''pod'' were left alive. Frankly, he wasn''t proud of that survival rate, but it was about the best they could have hoped for. There were wolves that blended in with the water like it was natural- the kind that they got their spears'' claws from. The few patches of actual dry ground tended to be guarded by insects and critters they''d rather not fight with, and in the infinite expanse, there were even fish that acted like sand-sharks, swimming low and quiet before taking off toes, an entire foot, or even dragging someone small enough away. They had lost a child like that; the mourning was as terrible as the loss. It was something they had forgotten how to do in the perpetually-safe grip of modernity.

    They had rescued group after group, stumbling on them in the wild or still in their incarceration. As the group grew in size, they gained momentum. For all intents and purposes, they were all normal people, including and especially Mister Moses, which some of the kids hadstarted to call James. It was a pretty popular nickname, actually, and even a chunk of the adults liked to call him that now, too. He had been quite clear with his intentions- to find somewhere that they wouldn''t be so mercilessly murdered or where they wouldn''t starve or fall ill. They had extrapolated that to the ''Promised Land'', which was spoken of in the Old Testament. Christianity had fallen by the wayside in the modern era, but he was surprised to learn that of those who had been ''abducted'', quite a few of the pods were from the Midwest, which was having a bit of a religious renaissance. He himself wasn''t very interested in religion, but he didn''t mind the nickname. If they needed a ''Mister Moses'', he just had to deliver. He had to be more than he used to be, something greater. The need for recognition burned just as strongly in him as any need to survive did.

    They walked, and walked. They rested when they could, they speared monsters when they came. He got better at directing the group, and at keeping them happy and healthy. He ''tended the flock'', as another of the Midwesters termed it. It was something between a passion and an obsession, but since it meant that more people lived and everyone felt just a little better about their situation, no one seemed to care. They had just walked right along with him, happy to be going somewhere, even if it was pointless. Things were going reasonably well, all that time. They had walked for well over a month. He ignored the whispers of ''forty nights'', insisting that it was more important to keep moving. The morning had gone normally enough, even if the religious sort- and the newly converted- seemed especially agitated. When the sun hit its zenith, though, things changed. Two big things happened that day.

    They had walked and walked and reached an impressively open patch of water, one that didn''t have any vegetation or algae poking out of the water, even. They hadn''t seen anything like that, before. When they approached, a massive shape sprung from it.

    James had never seen a dinosaur in person, but he figured this is what it would have really looked like. It was dripping with the lukewarm waters of the floodplain, scales shining in the light as the water passed over it. It had a massive spine on its back that had been furled down until it stood, and now its massive jowls hung open, inviting them inside. Sharp teeth were cram-packed into them, and above the mouth, it had sharp, reptilian eyes. It had impressively long arms- and longer claws, with three long fingers on each ''hand''. It roared, tipping backwards, tail swinging wide from side to side. He had been pretty sure that the latest digests insisted that the Spinosaurus did not, in fact, exist. That it was a misidentified mixture of skeletons, or a specific species, or something like that. They were dead wrong. To their defense, they had never had one pop out of the water and roar at them.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    He scattered the group, shouting orders. They circled it, at quite a distance, spears at the ready. The giant lizard swung down, aiming to take him out. He really hoped that it was just going for him because he was in front of it, and not because he looked tasty, or worse still, because it knew he was in charge. He had just bulked up, gaining weight back the right way. If that bit him in the ass he would never even try to get fit again. It clawed where he had been standing as he dashed to the side, and one of the people around him grazed its arm with the spear. Their reactions had improved significantly fighting the water-wolves. He was so proud of them, but now wasn''t the time for another ''Kumbaya''. He hustled close to the monster, only to realize that the ground wasn''t flat there. It dipped down, and he submerged himself to his waist with a few more steps. Damn.

    The Spinosaurus hissed, swinging at him. He couldn''t dodge, this time, so he went to ''stance two''- point the business end of the spear at thing leaping, swinging, or otherwise gunning for his life. The spear-head caught the hard flesh and scales of the dinosaur, and it reeled back, while his spear snapped in two under the pressure. He dropped the useless half of the shaft he still held, wading back to shore, hoping to get free of the murky water. It was slow- too slow. He heard a few members of his flock shout "duck" in an impressive chorus, and he only just had time to dive below the water before the dinosaur''s head snapped at where his stomach had been. Angrily, it growled, spinning about to attack the annoying morsels who had denied it prey. Its tail slammed into one of them, and he went flying through the air, ragdolling. James got back out of the water, just a head, only to see him go flying. He could only hope that the man would survive. The creature moved forth, leaving the murky depths of the water for higher shore, now ignoring the ''leader'' who had put up so much of a fight. It quickly snapped up one of the other little creatures that hadn''t been quite so wary, biting it hard until it went limp and dropping it in the water. The blood and flesh was gratifying, but it would have plenty of time to finish the meal later, once the rest were dealt with.

    The crowd was terrified. It just ate one of them, like it was nothing. All of the losses in the past had been so much more pyrrhic. Mister Moses, who had only had his head poking out of the water, bellowed. He howled like a beast. It felt like agony and anger and a little bit like fear. More than all of his people-minding and leading, it was the fact he seemed to care about them all that kept their group together. If he was ready to fight the monster over their lost ally, why weren''t they? They charged, swarming as well around the dinosaur as they could. A few of the brave even tried the water, stabbing at its heels. The beast swung about furiously, clawing at them and stamping. Its every movement shook the pool, making waves and splashes in the otherwise glassy ''sea'' that was the flooded land. No other creature even sought to fight them- indeed, it had been too quiet in the vicinity. They should have seen the signs of the predator. They all had a crash-course in spotting them through this world, no matter how sheltered they had been back home.

    The siege started. It was a storm of stabbing and biting and punching and clawing. The beast snapped up another of them, but before it could recoil, one of the hunters shoved a spear so far through its eye socket that it embedded itself, and it screamed in pain. It whirled around, knocking that man off his feet, and it clawed furiously at another. That one didn''t survive, and from the way his innards didn''t seem to stay ''in'' anymore, that was probably for the best. It was a brutal fight, and as they bled and died, so did the beast. It snapped another in two, this time a boy of only fifteen or sixteen who had dared to spear its leg between the heel and the tendon. It cried out, in apparently agony, and it staggered. A young woman had actually climbed the fucking thing, slashing at the spines and stabbing into its back. She punched it and punched it, until finally; it flung her from its back. She landed hard. A man stabbed its scaly neck, hardly getting it deep enough through the skin to matter, and he was rewarded with claws through his guts. The fight raged on.

    Dead bodies were strewn everywhere, but when all was said and done, the Spinosaurus had twenty spears embedded in its body, and through blood loss and an awful lot of punctured muscles, it finally topped. It was dying, if not dead. Mister Moses did the honors, jabbing a spear he took from one of the newly dead through its eyes hard enough that it poked out the other side. The fight was over. It had been brief, but deadly. It was the most people they lost in a long time. Forty nights marked the massacre, a trial out of the blue. Now there were about 80 of them.

    The group, and indeed James himself, insisted on a serious burial. They stayed long into the evening, wasting valuable travel-time to put the dead to rest. They stripped the Spinosaurus, too, fashioning new spears with those deadly, blood-drenched claws as heads and shafts from the discarded, unbroken spears of the dead and dying. It almost factored into the ceremony, as though their contribution to the beast''s death was being remembered in such a way. There were many tears shed, and the group set camp around the reptile''s corpse. It was a long evening, far more melodramatic than the optimism he had finally worked them into.

    James was busy for hours, just talking to them. A beloved husband, father of two of the surviving kids- and one of the dead ones, at that- had been lost. He grieved with them, sharing some conciliatory tears and remembrances. One of the young adults had left his old mother behind when he died, and she was afraid of what would become of her without his help. He assured she would be cared for, just as she was due, and joked about re-instating ''Social Security'' and such trivial memories of home until she wasn''t quite so broken. He consoled the surviving half of a pair of star-stricken lovers, a young man who had lost his girl to the beast''s angry maw. He was about ready to drown himself, and it took what felt like ages to assure him that Kimberlee- James remembered her name, he made a point of learning them- would have never wanted that. It came in handy; he finally calmed down. The look in his eye wasn''t quite right, but if anything, he seemed stronger for it. He''d survive.

    Everyone had a story. Old friends, new friends, family, lovers. All of them had lost, somehow, in this fight. It was a disaster. He should have been more careful, more wary. He led them into a trap, and he hadn''t even properly apologized. It was a bad show, something that would see them all killed if he wasn''t careful. There were fucking dinosaurs running around, apparently. He couldn''t be so lax now, or ever again. He didn''t plan to recreate the events of ''Reptile Island'' with his own group, no matter how great that movie had been. He would be wary of the dangers, more than before. No more dead, no more wounded. He worried himself into a stupor. Even if he was there to console everyone else, there was no one to console him. He had quite liked a few of the people who had died, and now they were just gone. He thought he was used to it, but apparently he hadn''t found his Zen yet. That was how he spent his night- mourning, worrying, and terrified. At least, it had been. Then, he felt it. It was more than hearing, like something had been beamed into his head.

    "THERE IS A HOME FOR MANKIND", the herald cried. It was as though he was hearing someone yell from a great distance, but it felt so close. It was in his head. He pulled his torso off of the sopping bit of dirt and mud they were all trying to sleep on. Many of the others did the same. They all looked in the same direction- south. He had set them to moving south-west, so much so that it had almost been ingrained in their psyche, but this was different. It was as though someone had set off a beacon, and it was located precisely to the south of their current location. The herald cried out once more into the night, voice pleading and urging, cast straight to each of their brains. Even the few people who had already fallen asleep woke once more, turning to look south, looking hard for the source of the voice that was calling for them.

    "THERE IS A HOME FOR MANKIND"

 017: A coin has two sides.

    It took everything he had to get everyone to calm down and go to sleep. It had been hard enough, going as long as they did, and another sleepless night would not be conducive to fighting more dinosaurs- if it came to that. It''d be a real joke if their party of hunters, tempered in the fires of battle after battle with creatures many Conservationalists would have been ready to drive to extinction, got wiped out due to sleep deprivation. It was important to rest, but really, even James himself didn''t want to sleep. They had been called, and the urge to get up and go was intense. He was pretty sure it wasn''t compulsion- the idea that it could be a trap meant to draw them all in was ever-present in the back of his mind- but instead just the idea of the Promised Land that the Midwesters kept going on and on about actually existing.

    The floodplains were beautiful. They were an ocean that you could walk through, dotted with little ''islands'' of dirt and mud and food and trees. In the real world, it probably would have been a tourist attraction or a protected site, an awe-inspiring example of the oddities that nature could generate. It was an ocean you could wade through, and the creatures within seemed to fit that theme quite nicely. It was dumb luck there hadn''t been anything quieter than the water-wolves, or bigger than the Spinosaurus. No amount of spears could save them from a Sarcosuchus in an environment so conducive to its strengths. James got to thinking- and that was the problem. His ''flock'' weren''t the only ones that needed sleep.

    He did think, though. Why were there dinosaurs and unknown creatures mashed together in the same environment? Why had that Spinosaurus seemed so lucid? Would the next enemy they ran into on the way to Home end up killing them all? The questions weighed on his mind, and with every tenuous conclusion or guess he made, the truth seemed to get further away. Whatever this New World was, it wasn''t precisely easy to understand. He forced himself to focus instead on what they needed to do tomorrow, on what they might find outside the knee-deep ocean. They were happier thoughts, optimism shining through for the first time in months. With that, he was out like a light.

    The moon danced through the sky, falling down the horizon, and the sun chased after it, finally shining through on the other side. It was a new day, and they were all new people, confident that whatever they did, they would make it to their new home. Murmurs of it being a trap or too dangerous or suspicious spread, but quickly one idea unified the group: if it was a lie, they would make it a truth- by force. Still, they hoped it wouldn''t come to that. Despite their losses and the constant combat they had seen, they were still human, with emotions, concerns, and a simple desire to have something to trust. James knew that if that was stolen away, then his ''flock-minding'' would quickly be made obsolete by their broken hearts, that they would become something other than Eliza, Caleb, or Nathan, shells of their former selves.

    Maybe they''d be stronger that way. There was a power to it; he could feel it in the air. When he was sure he was ''Mister Moses'', he was stronger, smarter, better- but he wasn''t James. That feeling wasn''t one he was used to. Throughout his life, he had been many things; most of which were ''lazy'' and ''overweight'' and ''a nerd'', but even when he resolved to fix himself up, it was still an expression of James, the same person he had always been. This place had done something to him. He had an inkling of why it was happening, too- and they said videogames never teach you anything. When he really got in there, absolutely convinced he was the character in that particular VMRG or he felt like the commander in a 3RTS, his performance went overboard. Adrenaline would start pumping, his mindset would change- he would be in ''the zone'', and it made him better at the game. Significantly worse at thinking about anything other than the game, too. It was a mindset that took up all of his focus.

    That was a rarity at best. The sort of thing people bragged about, where they suddenly get a burst of speed and broke a record in a sprint, or where they wipe out an entire team all alone, or end up being the only person in an entire class to ace a test, because they had dedicated their entire brain to the ordeal. They felt the heartbeat of the track underfoot, ignoring the anguish they put their legs through. Their twitch-reflexes suddenly improved, and everything they had learned about the game they played culminated in predicting where the enemies would be, every shot meeting its mark even as they turned a corner or hopped an obstacle. They dug deep, with their generally flighty memory yanking answer after answer out of past classes or lectures. It was their best self, suited to that one task. Just for a moment, it was their calling, what they were supposed to do, what they were supposed to be. Back on Earth, James had only felt it once or twice, and it awed him each time.

    Here? It was different. Every time he was ''Mister Moses'', he was ''Mister Moses''. He guided the people, felt their pain, taught and consoled them, and when the time came to protect them, he gave it his all. He had stabbed a Spinosaurus in the hand as it tried to rip his head off, for fuck''s sake. That was a lot of things; half of them ''totally awesome'', but nowhere on the list was ''something James would do''. He had played his role instead of playing smart, and if he had kept himself together and really thought it over, more people might be alive. It wasn''t a one-way street that only made him stronger, or in this case at least made him more personable. It was corrosive, and it scared him. Until he learned the score, the New World would always be dangerous. It was just so easy to slip into that other mode, and it could happen before he was really cognizant of what was happening. Hopefully, the ''Home for Mankind'' would have some answers.

    They made good time. It was the fastest they had gone in a while- everyone was working hard at walking now that there was a real goal. Usually, the kids too big to be carried were the slowest, but they were practically skipping about in the front now. Which was a bit too dangerous for James'' taste, but he had a feeling they only had a bit longer before they ran into any more carnivores. Groups of predators seemed to spread out, which only made sense. In the entire time they had been in the flood-plains, herbivores had been elusive to say the least. Even if they fought for good turf, there was just too much area to migrate around, so it would be a moot point. If he thought of it like that, it almost made sense. If the predators were everywhere, maybe the prey usuallyran from place to place. Meals on wheels.

    Dawn passed, and the sun rose high in the sky. The kids started panting, and they had walked more than far enough from the Spinosaurus to be in danger again, so he got them all to stop for a break. It was just a little stop, but it was always nice to take a minute and actually do some maintenance. It was amazing how easy it was to get dehydrated in the middle of a giant body of water, if you didn''t bother to stop and appreciate it. Naturally, when they were done, he re-grouped everyone to something more sensible, with the bulkier people outside and the little ones- kids especially- in the middle. It was a common tactic for herds in the Plains, at least according to nature documentaries. He had never thought that those would actually come in handy someday, but life really was a rollercoaster. ''Mister Moses'' didn''t let him forget,and in this circumstance, he was glad to have that ideaat his disposal. It had dropped the missing person rate dramatically in the early days of their migration. If it could work for a bunch of dumb beasts, it could probably work for people.

    Eventually, it the ratio of ''mangrove island'' to ''knee-deep ocean'' started to shift. Rather than the ethereal track they were used to, it was more like real floodplains, with archipelagos of land poking from the water and tall-grass growth. This trend continued far into the distance. Wherever the group was going, they were nearing land. Everyone was ecstatic, finally happy to be free of the water, possibly for good. Many people had suffered hard from the shriveling and exposure to water, underwater rocks, and so forth. Even if they slept above water, there was only so much de-soaking you could do in one night. Even the people who had been most excited about ''water everywhere'', avid swimmers or coastal residents, had finally just lost interest in living in that infinite ocean. Here they were, finally nearing land. If nothing else, James was grateful of that much. It was a sign that there was something else out there, after all. They trailed along the new shores and dirt, packing in. They walked along, following the new-found ground ever to the south.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    They walked long into the evening. They met less resistance than expected- which made everyone warier, for good reason. It wasn''t a hard walk, and they didn''t even run into little predators. What they did find, however, was a new Pod. It was the first new Pod in nearly weeks. They were in a hole- one of the most common ''types'' they had seen, actually- and they had been digging themselves out slowly. The fact that almost thirty of them were still alive after all this time was a testament to how safe the area was. It took a while to convince them that they weren''t going to hurt them, that they were there to help, and then to dig them out. The rest of the evening they spent setting up camp, welcoming the new group, and finding something to eat. They were running out of what little stockpile they had. Food came easy. It was refreshing to not have to go diving into mud, or to have to hope we got attacked to get a little to eat. It was a great night, especially compared to the last- meeting new people instead of mourning was definitely a lot more fun. They weren''t quite to the size they had before the last big fight, but they had at least a hundred people again.

    It was no coincidence they spotted the new Pod. Apparently the only reason there was a hole at all was that they had dug it out that far- it had been more like James'' own, almost completely underground. They heard the call, too. Since they were underground, they hadn''t even known it was night time- their schedule was quite a few hours off. They worked long into the night, finally breaking ground for the first time, driven by the call. James figured there were quite a few more groups like them, reclusive or dying, who had finally been mobilized by the fact there were people out there- people who could call to them like that. They had even though James'' group was the source before they clarified the situation. The people mingled, sharing backgrounds, chatting, and talking about their time in the New World. This pod was at the tail end of the new arrivals, as far as anyone could guess. They had lost a few people to elusive cave-spiders that came in the night, and they were distraught to find out that the surface wasn''t necessarily safer. Still, they were in a much larger group now, and there was power in groups.

    When morning came, they were practically running. The environment was starting to change at a noticeable rate, with more and more dry land to run along. They could even see a forest to either side. It encroached on the marsh gently, narrowing the endless water they were used to down to a thinner, more manageable strip. It almost looked normal like this, whether or not that was true far beside. They finally reached the ''edge'' of the turf, new scenery for the first time in so long. There was a massive lake, and quite a few people seemed queasy about the idea of more water, but there was more to look at. The thick forest swung all the way around the lake, as far as they could see, interrupted only by deep channels that might look like massive creeks or drainage ditches if they were filled up. Even as they stood there, something huge and improbably long flew along it like a bullet, slamming into the water with enough force to make tidal waves. It was gone as fast as it came, like a mirage, but one thing was for sure- those weren''t creeks. They probably would have left, just from that. The floodplains were a known quantity, one that didn''t actually involve impossibly fast mega-snakes. Quite a few people already looked skittish. When they actually saw what James was pointingat, they allchanged their mind, and quite quickly at that.

    It was a huge, grassy hill, devoid of trees or bushes. It only had one thing seated atop it, a stone city with walls that dwarfed everything else they had seen thus far. The stone was greyed and sturdy, giving the impression of the castles of old, but it was no castle- it was too large for that. It was more like Troy, the ancient walled cities of the Greeks. Between the height of the walls and the sheer scale of the hill it sat atop, it hung high over them. More importantly, and most of all, there was a flag hanging on its wall. It was strung up, stretched across the wall''s surface, and everyone there could recognize it. It was a simple rendition of Earth in blues and greens and brown, the unmistakable shapes of continents side by side by side. It wasn''t the flag of a country or a people- it was the banner of humanity.

    They broke out into a sprint, running along the lake. The sand crunched under James'' feet, as he ran his best run. All hundred-plus people broke any semblance of order, practically racing each-other to get to the other side. The massive tracks were hardly an obstacle as they ran, just an afterthought. They spent the whole trekrunningand running and doing very little else. As they neared, though, James pulled them out of their desperate sprint, calling out. The front side of the walled city was not so inviting. There was another flag, the same as the first, hung over two massive gates. One was of the same ancient stone as the rest, while the other was wooden and seemingly still under construction- which was odd, to say the least. The road up the hill glimmered and shone under the light, almost magically.

    Group under control, he started his way up the hill, the rest in tow. It was a long way to the top, and the hill''s grade was something modern civil engineers would never allow. Still, they kept moving- no amount of sore legs or fatigue would keep them from home, even if it was a trap after all. Eventually, they managed to crest the hill. The approach was nerve-wracking, and James really did feel like he was leading a flock of sheep to the slaughter. He persevered, though, standing as confidently and resolutely as he could at the front of the mass of people. The gate was empty, completely without guard or escort. The little bit of city he could see behind it was empty, too- it looked a little like a strip mall, with carefully sized and proportioned stores lining either side. The material looked newer. Was it a trap? Would those ''stores'' house troops to come capture them? Only time would tell.

    Finally, thegroup was nearly inside. As they trudged through the gate on that shining road, a woman appeared. She seemed to appear from nowhere- but if one were to considere it rationally, it was clear she must have come from the blind-spot off to the side of the gate. She walked to the middle, as though to block theirpath. She was dressed impressively, almost like a secretary, with a threaded blazer tied in knots down her chest above a white shirt and a formal, knee-length skirt. Her white hair flowed long down her upper-back like a veil, giving her a bit of an unearthly feeling. That was supported by the oddities that followed her out. The ground underneath her, and indeed the air itself was crackling. Everywhere she stepped was turned pitch-black, with strange-blue neon lines racing away, and even the air itself seemed to be dampened and filled with those little ''sparks''. They made patterns, James realized. He recognized the way they bumped into each-other as they moved, the little crisscrosses and collisions, but he couldn''t quite place it. As she took each step, the ground she left behind in her wake returned to normal, as if absolutely nothing had happened at all.

    She stood there in the gate. No one dared to move as she looked at them, but she just stood and looked, face utterly calm, completely unconcerned with their presence. She almost seemed to be sizing them up. At least she seemed to be human, though, so they didn''t run for their lives- not yet. Thankfully, the moment passed. She put on a big smile like an outfit, beaming at them as though she hadn''t been so terrifying a moment before. A long line of little green goblins held little hand-sized flags up along the road, waving them intently. James wasn''t sure where they had been before, but there they were, out of thin air, a procession ready to welcome them. Anything and everything he had seen or read about Goblins back home indicated that this was not normal behavior.The lady turned aside, like a tour-guide showing off a particularly impressive monument.

    "Welcome home," she said, emphasizing the expanse of the city with her arms. James didn''t know when, but he had already started moving through the gate, leading his people- his flock- into god knew what dangers lay ahead. It wasn''t right, but for some reason, the woman was so pleasant, so eminently trustworthy. The city opened up wide as they passed the gate, even larger than he had imagined, with so many buildings to either side. It really was civilization. He could only hope that most of the inhabitants were humans. Not that he had anything against goblins, of course, but it just wasn''t quite what they expected to find.

    For better or worse, they really were home.

 018: "Familiar Faces"

    The city was strange, to say the least. They followed the white-haired lady down the market street, taking in the sights. There goblins seemed to cheer as the passed, waving their flags at them. They were initially all held at the exact same height, which was impressive enough, since some goblins were taller than others, but at some point they broke into ''the wave''. The timing was impeccable, and the undulation actually started to make James dizzy. The line eventually ended, as did the market, giving way to a clearing that revealed the city''s main feature- a massive chasm. Dangling boxes hung off the sides of the bridge, evidently the only safe way to descend into its depth. The system of chains seemed to simply disappear as it descended, giving off an impression of an infinite drop.

    It was crisscrossed by two bridges, both starting in the city at large and ending on an almost oval-shaped strip of grass that was about a fourth of the total area of the entire place. Guard-towers made of the same strange stone as the markets lined the edge of the arc, standing tall over the bridges and chasm. Little structures were arranged in thick lines around the grassy plain, almost circling around a huge structure that sat smack-dab in the middle of it all. It looked like it had been expanded, a huge fort that was a mixture of the same stone as the walls and apparently newer stuff. In particular, the newer materials were used to build a huge, cylindrical tower and a new ''wing'' of the fort, nearly doubling its size. A tiny, unmarked and rectangular structure isolated from the rest didn''t escape notice. It was actually a bit strange how it just unceremoniously stuck out of the grass.

    The kids were especially excited to cross the bridge. For some reason, the younger they were, the more predisposed they were to getting uncomfortably close to certain death. As the group walked, the kids would trail the railings, peeking out, only to realize they were being left behind and catch up- rinse and repeat. Their guide was unconcerned, although she may not have even noticed. She hadn''t turned around the entire time, which was odd enough. Even James would sometime turn around and check to see he hadn''t left anyone behind, but she was so confident. The atmosphere around her stride mixed with her outfit, giving him the impression of pure competence. Perhaps the ''secretary'' guess wasn''t far off- or maybe she was more like a CEO, svelte but strong, a lady of dignity and power. He certainly wasn''t ready to find out what was going on with the things she touched, and what that''d do to a person''s body. Either way, the presence of such modern sensibilities in a midieval world was jarring.

    Even on the bridge, each step seemed to turn the area around it pitch-black, and with every move, those cerulean neon lines flitted across the ground or the air around her, almost like sparks coming from a flame. It made him feel more like he had been dumped into a videogame, strongly contrasting the ''primitive survival'' feel he had been getting before. Throw in the goblins, and he had to wonder if he signed up to beta test an exceptionally immersive VR experience. At the same time, the deaths had been real- too real. Putting legal issues aside, no person would put so much effort into something so gut-wrenchingly terrible. Still, if this wasn''t a game, then what was with the strangeness? "What''s going on with theбн special effects?" He asked, uncertain what precisely to call it. He wasn''t ready to say it was a glitch in the matrix just yet, and ''magic'' didn''t seem quite appropriate.

    She didn''t even break stride. She just walked, and for a moment, he thought she couldn''t hear him. Then, the lady turned to look at him- still walking- and nodded. "You''ll find out in a minute. I''ll be happy to answer any other questions, though!" She said, another business smile playing across her face. That was awkward, to say the least. He tried to think of something that wasn''t the reality-bending she was doing so casually. He settled on asking about the locale. "What is this place?" He asked, returning her smile. He hoped his ''Mister Moses'' talents were helping him make a decent impression. He had never really been good with people like this, back home.

    "Home," she said. "We gained control of this city roughly a month ago. What do you think of ''The City of Man''?"

    He frowned. You''d never get away with something like that on Earth- it was just so broad. Even ''the Isle of Man'' was pushing it, and that was named centuries ago. At the same time, this wasn''t Earth, and if this was to be home-baseбн "It''ll do nicely, I think."

    She looked pleased. "I told them as much, but they just wouldn''t listen. Is there anything else?" It was curious that she was talking about a ''they'' all the sudden, but he ignored it. Instead, he mulled the situation over, thinking about everything they had seen thus far. It wasn''t like there was much to ask about the goblins- they were probably previous inhabitants, maybe even the people who ran the city. The white stone that had been used to build the newer structures looked suspiciously similar to concrete, although it wasn''t quite as smooth or refined as what he was used to seeing. Since there really were humans here, it made sense, so that wasn''t even a concern. The way one of the gates was made of wood was strange to say the least, but that wasn''t very pressing. In fact, only one thing stuck out in his mind, although he felt it was just a bit silly. "What exactly is that little building, over there?" He asked, pointing at the unmarked structure that sat so far away from the rest of this decidedly military branch. His best guess was ''a prison'', but it seemed too small for that.

    The woman chortled, sharing in a private joke. "That''s the boom room," she said, turning back to look at where she was going. They were nearing the end of the bridge, now. That just left James with more questions- for instance, what the hell a ''boom room'' was. Still, it was an answer to his question, even if it made no sense. It was gratifying to be back on the soft grass again after the walk. At some point, he must have really torn up his feet. Judging by the way the others were looking enviously at the woman''s simplistic shoes, he wasn''t alone. They walked towards the huge fort, crossing the field. He wondered when this group had first arrived. After all, they had taken over a city of goblins at least a month ago. That would have only been a few days after his group got brought into this New World. It was impressive, to say the least. Surely there were many more people waiting to greet them just on inside.

    As they neared, one of the fort''s doors swung open. Two people filed out, neither especially happy to see them. One had the most muscled legs James had ever seen, and he wore something like a guard''s outfit. He was wearing a bandana decorated with the same simplistic design as the city''s ''flag''. The other was most likely a woman and she was a matching set with the man- her arms would put most heavy-lifters to shame. She managed to look friendly. Both of the people''s faces weren''t normal, though. It was like someone had mixed and matched features from a gorilla onto a human''s head, giving him a strange impression. As they approached, the white-haired woman waved to them. The two of them fell into line, side by side with the lady, and she finally turned all the way down. She gestured to the man.

    "This is Netya. He''s captain of the guard," she said. He bowed slightly, nodding at her words. She nudged him and he went off to doбн something. It occurred to James that the city had been unusually empty, especially if the residents weren''t all goblins. Was that for their benefit? The woman continued, waving happily at the woman. "She is Ayala, and she is the Warden, and she will be your mentor as you get a grip for life in the city." Ayala smiled at them, bowing slightly. Her smile looked more like a grimace, but she didn''t object to what the white-haired lady was saying. Even as James was about to ask what they actually were, shecontinued. "They''re both Gomen. From what some ''digging'' has told us, they arrived a few centuries ago, and they have some noted similarities with humanity. In fact, there are many such races, according to their testimony." She let them get a grip for the fact that there were far more than three sentient races running about for a moment before continuing. "We are not alone, and we arenбпt the strongest or the fastest. At least, I don''t plan to arm-wrestle Miss Ayala any time soon," she said, smiling. A gentle chuckle rolled through the crowd. "We''re not even actually the most technologically advanced, even if from what I''ve heard we''re damn close. So what are we, if not human?"

    A few people nodded sagely, but James for one was completely lost. What good was ''being human'' if they were outmanned and outgunned? As though reading his mind, she kept the speech rolling. "Here at the City of Man, we''re trying to levy that fact to our advantage. We''re a versatile race, and luckily for us, we''re apparently uniquely suited for magic-" Her monologue was cut off by an abrupt cheer from the audience, mostly children, but also an unfortunate number of adults. James may or may not have been among that crowd. He was definitely excited for magic, though, especially if it would let him do cool shit like the lady had been doing on the walk up. The lady seemed resigned to the fact that any motivational potential or weight her speech had been blown, so she settled for brevity. "Welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Merrilyn, and I''ll be instructing you on how to tap into what potential you may, or may not, possess."Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    It was something many children had dreamed of since fourth grade. "Harry Potter" had been made mandatory reading for elementary schoolers at some point, and even though it was over a century old, it still captured the imaginations of kids everywhere. Granted, it was dated, and some of the language and ideas remained controversial, but it was still fantastic, bringing a little bit of magic into the sanitized, mechanized modern era. Now some white-haired office-lady said she would teach them how to do that sort of thing- how cool was that!? Even as advanced as technology was on Earth, they had never quite figured out how to make wands and broomsticks work. Merrilyn stepped aside from the door, her presentation and introduction finally finished. James quite suspected that the wave of excitement washing through the crowd was all part of the plan. He thought they were supposed to enter, but two more people came out. Evidently, the ceremonies weren''t complete.

    One was a girl, and she was in a wheel-chair. She was beaming at them, so innocently it was as though she had popped right out of a donation drive poster. She was moving around alright, leaning forward to get a better look at them even, but her legs were uncomfortably still. It took James a moment to drag his focus off of how tragic that was and back to reality, at which point he promptly took note of the fact that there was a wheel-chair in a fantasy world. It was a simple thing, with little wooden wheels and barely any cushion, but it was still a wheel-chair. Pushing that wheel-chair was a young man who seemed to be all intensity and bones. He was almost uncomfortably thin, and the only thing keeping him from being stringy were the muscles that lined his extremities. He was pushing the cart with one hand and one hook, a fierce metal thing that ended in aterribly sharp point. If Merrilyn was like an office-lady, this boy looked more like a pirate.

    The girl in the chair was beaming, and the boy was in a deep frown, a stern look. Theymade for a strange combination, the two of them. The girl wore a simple pair of trousers and a wooly green shirt, while the boy wore leather hide armor. It was stitched together, as many parts made of a distinctly thick grey hide as inferior, light-brown. It made for a strange look, almost Avant Garde, but it was quite clear that this kid was all business. He brought down the girl, setting her to look into the crowd from an angle, before re-centering himself. Now they could see his leather pants, and more importantly, two massive sheathes. One was misshapen and strange, more like a pistol holster, and it hung to his left- the same side as his missing hand. The other was more traditional, but it was quite wide- rather than a sword, no less than five daggers'' hilts poked out, all in a row. It was quite a get-up, especially considering he was so young.

    He squared up with the crowd. Many of the children were starting to get tired of standing around when they could be doing magic, but now, almost all of the adults were at attention. The way the boy carried himself sent a message- he was in charge. This was the leader of the operation, not the muscle-bound Ayala or even the eminently magical Merrilyn. He pointed to himself. "I am the General. You can call me Gen." He said, confidently. He pointed to the girl in the wheel-chair. "She''s Catarina, and she prefers to go by Kat. She''s the fastest runner we''ve got-" at that he grimaced, and the girl''s smile seemed to falter, but he continued- "but at the moment, she''s disposed." He stood a little straighter, coming to his full height. The boy, or ''Gen'', was quite tall when he tried to be. He finished with the white-haired lady, pointing to her. "You''ve already been introduced to Merrilyn. You need to be quite cognizant of the fact that she will not hesitate to dispose of you if she thought it was a good idea."

    Merrilyn looked indignant for a moment, opening her mouth to retort in a huff, but in a blink, it washed away. She stared at Gen, speaking up for the first time since he had left the fort. "I would prefer you didn''t say it so plainly. It makes maintaining my persona that much harder." Quite a few people suddenly felt quite a bit less comfortable with standing anywhere close to her. Gen held out his hands to placate them- well, he tried, but one of his hands was a hook. It was probably more intimidating than anything. His stony demeanor broke for a moment, and he spoke quickly. "I''m not threatening you, it''s just the way Merrilyn is- Iбн" He struggled to find the words, evidently not feeling too ''general''-y at the moment. James got the picture, though, so he stepped forward.

    He spoke loudly, hoping to catch the crowd''s attention before they got too uncomfortable with the situation. "You don''t plan on hurting us, right?" He asked. It was the question everyone was thinking, and the one that no one was answering. The boy shook his head vehemently. "No. Honestly, Merrilyn''s right. I''ll have to explain some of the more touchy topics a bit differently next time." He stood straighter again, regaining some of his confidence. "You''re all safer here than you are anywhere else. I can''t promise it''s quite like home," He squeezed his hand into a tight first, raising it in front of him, "but it''s the best we''ve got. At the moment, it''s just the three of us-"

    The crowd froze. James froze. The girl in the wheel-chair, Kat, started laughing. She spoke up, for the first time, wheeling herself forward a little bit. "Gen''s not one for first impressions. When we met, he said something or another about hallucinations and passed right the fuck out." She winced, noticing the children grinning at her use of inappropriate words. "Sorry. It''s true, though. We''re not going to hurt you. I''m Kat, and I''m sure you guys are curious about who- and what- we are. Spoiler alert, we''re just normal people in a ''fricked up'' situation. Well, Merrilyn really isn''t right in the head, but don''t mind that." This time Merrilyn had evidently recovered. She harrumphed, going back inside first. Gen sighed, walking over to Kat. She was certainly a bit more personable than Gen had been, and suddenly they were all a little more optimistic about the situation. He started wheeling her back over to the door, and she beckoned for them to follow.

    The inside was well-lit, and it was surprisingly cool for such a warm day. It was full of tables and wooden chairs, arranged something like a cafeteria. It had a rudimentary stage, a well-lit platform that sat just slightly higher than the rest of the room. It had a few chairs lined up in a row, and Merrilyn had already sat down in one. Gen took Kat over to the stage, practically lifting her, chair and all, onto it. For being so stringy, he had some serious strength hiding somewhere in there, James noted. Gen proceeded to shift aside a few chairs, lining her up with the rest. He sat beside her, pointing the tables out to the crowd as they filed in. Soon enough, everyone was seated. It was the first time that had sat in chairs in ages, and by God did they miss it. It made them feel just that little bit more like they were home.

    Gen stood. "Seeing as I''m not so good at thisбн presentation stuff, I''ve decided to let Kat present. For all intents and purposes, consider her my PR girl." He said, smiling. He seemed less tense now, maybe relieved to not have to wrangle with breaking in the new civilians. Kat matched his smile, looking up at him, and then wheeled forward just a tad. "Forgive me if I don''t stand on ceremony," she said, letting the humor show through in her voice. James wasn''t sure if he was supposed to laugh, but that got a chuckle out of him. The girl was a good speaker, and now that they were inside, everyone could hear her quite clearly- she projected well. "You already know who we are, more or less. I''m the girl who can''t run anymore; Gen is a socially awkward genius- at least as far as war goes- and Merrilyn is the и╣ber-talented sociopath. Honestly, I don''t know what else I can tell you, there. I''ll take questions, though."

    A young boy''s hand shot into the air like a rocket, finely honed from years of education. Kat pointed to him. He stood, smiling, and spoke as loudly as he could- perhaps a bit too loud, really. "How did you take over a city with just the three of you!? And- and- and, is it true we''ll be able to do magic?" Kat giggled, smiling down at him. "One question at a timer, little guy. Your second question is easy, though, so I''ll answer it first. Yes." The little boy was ecstatic, hopping about. Another wave of excitement washed through the crowd, and Kat waited a moment for them to settle down.

    "As far as your other question," she continued, "It''s a long story. It starts in a cavern, one so beautiful it''s like nothing you''ve ever seen..."

 019: People to meet, places to go, and something actually worth fighting for.

    Waking up in a bed was a strange experience after so long sleeping on the ground. He had nearly convinced himself that the whole thing was a dream before he really shook himself awake, but there was no mistaking the Fort for a modern home, even if it was the closest thing they had. James stood gingerly from the bed, getting the sleep out of his legs. The sun was bright shining in from the tiny windows near the roof, a shaft of light revealing his surroundings. He hurried to get dressed, finding the ''clothes'' he had discarded on the floor. Thankfully, Gen had said something about getting real outfits made. Regardless of if they matched factory quality, wearing some new threads would be far more satisfying than the sort of tribal-wear they had fashioned for themselves. It was a hint of modernity that made him just that little bit more optimistic of fashioning a new home here, even if they couldn''t go back to their own.

    The entire city was a strange mish-mash of old technology and new. Kat''s story had impressed upon them quite clearly that some big changes were made, and quite quickly. While she and Gen weren''t qualified to be much of anything as teens- their specializations laid elsewhere- the Imposter had dabbled in a bit of everything. The most obvious improvements they made were to the quality of materials. Ayala had been content to leave the mine as a sort of natural landmark when they took over the city, but Merrilyn had spotted a number of useful materials that the Warden had probably written off as ''dumb rocks'', especially includinglimestone. The new residents had been quite confused as to how the complex buildings of the city''s builders had actually worked, and with brand new hydraulic lime- and all of the extra stone they didn''t need- to work with, they got to work. Even now, many Gomen who had been without work or misplaced were set to mining. The next big project was replacing or re-creating the gate that Merrilyn had blown up, now that the commerce and travel districts were done.

    The city had been quietly renovating and developing over the course of the month, but that was set to change, or so the goblins had insisted. They sent out parties through the system of roads, heading off to various settlements with strong goblin presence. It had been a long time, but considering there were no motorized vehicles to work with, that was to be expected. Merrilyn was many things, but she was not proficient in internal combustion- that was where they hoped any other humans to arrive would come in handy. James'' group had a few engineers, but none seemed to have a strong grasp on thermodynamics. They seemed to favor electronics and robotics, which had long since overtaken combustion and mechanics as dominant fields of study. While their application was more limited, it was still important- they hoped to get an electrical system of some kind up and running before the year''s end. For their entire expanse and grasp of advanced tech, it was hard to work backwards to the things that started it all. Still, it was progress, and that was important.

    Finally feeling properly awake and ready to go be a goddamn wizard, James stopped mulling over silly little things like "civilization" and "the state of affairs". He practically flew down the halls, ignoring the greetings of a number of other exhausted people. Kat was a great storyteller, but she had gone on forever. Granted, it had a lot to do with just how much the three of them had accomplished in such a short time, but it was still a detriment to their general well-being. The people who hadn''t already found their beds clambered up the stairs half asleep, hunting down a room. It had been a great night, but it made for a hellish morning if you already had a problem with that sort of thing. Luckily enough, James had always been a morning person. A couple of the more excitable kids were already milling down the halls towards the main room, and when they saw him jog down the stairs, they sped up. Even if it was Mister Moses, they wanted to be the first person to make it to class. Which was strange, to say the least, since usually education had the opposite effect on people, doubly so for children.

    They all barreled into the hall. It was largely empty, but the three of the ''first group'', namely Gen, Kat, and Merrilyn were already on the stage. They didn''t even look tired, which annoyed him for some reason. Kat beamed out at them as they entered the room, while the other two just looked a little expectant. Waiting for the rest, no doubt. James took a seat, and tens of other people began to funnel into the room, yawning and stretching and generally in poor shape. He noticed that Merrilyn''s entire demeanor had changed almost instantaneously, as though she had been replaced in the little bit of time he had looked away. She wore a prim little smile, and with the way she held herself, she conjured memories of kindly old schoolmarms long past. If he didn''t know better, he would have thought that was just ''the way she was'', but Kat had been quite clear on who and what Merrilyn was. As long as she wasn''t threatened or stirred from her particular mode, she would be the perfect magic tutor. The moment the cover was challenged or blown, things would change a bit. Honestly, knowing what he knew now, Gen''s initial warning may have been a bit too lax. Everyone else was going a bit insane because their world was falling apart around them. Merrilyn? She just was.

    Gen stepped forward, clearing his throat as loudly as humanly possible. The room quieted down, ''good mornings'' and little discussions ending. He stood a little straighter, entering a stern posture that let the awkward kid they had started to really get a handle on far more dignity than he should have been able to muster. "Good morning, soldiers," he said, embellishing with a sweep of his hands to address them all. Their three hosts had also made quite clear that so long as they hoped to survive and strive for somewhere to call their own, there was no such thing as a ''civilian''. A few men at one table saluted almost instantly, which seemed to satisfy the General. They were a group of actual soldiers who had become fast friends on the long march, a few from the ninth pod they had just rescued mingling with others that had survived in the long haul. James could only hope that the rest of them could manage the same comradery now that they were all in this together. The more unified they were, the better a shot this thing had. Even if having his flock so thoroughly ripped away hurt him somewhere deep inside, it was worth it if it meant they all survived. He had spent a long time preparing himself mentally for that outcome.

    "This will be your first day in the city, and your first day training your possibilities." He continued. "Assuming she stuck more or less to script, Merrilyn should have already pointed out that the biggest thing we''ve got at our disposal is how varied we all are." He looked at the lady, who nodded a few times, smiling. He gave her a little grin in return, and then swung his head back over to the crowd. "Any and all resources will be at your disposal if it''s meant to aide in your primary pursuits. I''m sorry to say that not everyone will be able to become a literal magician, however" he said, to which he received a small volley of boos- that he ignored, finishing with "everyone will be doing magic." Everyone unilaterally perked up, even those not as enthusiastic about the whole magic thing. Kat laughed at their reaction a little, seeming to enjoy the whirlwind of confusion they went through. How could one ''do magic'' and not be a ''magician''? James had a few ideas just based on the story last night, but he needed to hear it first-hand. At that, Merrilyn spoke up.

    "Of the three of us, I am the most innately talented at using and abusing Mana. Allow me to explain- quite simply- what is going on. The few of you who stayed awake long enough may remember Kat glancing over the ''internal mana'' and ''external mana'' delineation. In truth, we were operating under some misapprehensions." She said. If she had chalk and a blackboard, James was certain she''d be tapping on it right around then. "Think about your favorite mobile device. We had believed for a short while that ''internal'' would be like the sensors or functionality cooked in, while ''external'' was like broadcasting information or making calls." She mimed texting as she spoke, emphasizing the ''internal'' and ''external'' with sweeping hand movements. "Around the time Ayala saw reason, we got some more specifics, and started really working on R&D. In actuality, internal and external mana was the same, only different in origin. Internal mana is generated inside you as a consequence of simple existence, and it can be played with in many ways." She made a zigzag pattern with her hands, and a thin black sheet of something hung in the air where her hand moved, decorated with neon lines- not unlike the thing that had been trailing her footsteps yesterday. "It''s limited, and you have to grow it. Most races can use it, and the ones that can''t are perhaps the most dangerous. We would technically qualify in that category, since only a select few seemed to have figured it out back home."

    James was getting a grip for it, now. Rather than the connection being the main point of contention, it was more like internal mana was the ''battery''. Which, in that case, would make external mana a charging station? "External mana isбн different. It plays by its own rules, but at the moment, it seems to favor us. It''s common practice to war over control of terrain simply for access to it, and Gen threw us into that struggle. My internal mana let me do that neat little trick back there with some ease, while if I tap into the reservoir that is ''the city'', I can do this." Merrilyn stamped down her foot, and the entire room turned pitch-black. It was like being lost in the void once more, like the day they had been taken. Some people stumbled out of their now practically invisible chairs. Color expanded through the space in the form of little neon-blue bolts that crashed into each-other, forming a spider''s web of hundreds of interchanging lines. This time, James got a real feel for what was going on.Stolen novel; please report.

    It was programming, in its purest form. The neon lines were competing, each constituting different logic gates and inputs. His face lit with recognition. His attention was recaptured by Merrilyn''s polite little laugh, as she looked right at him. "I see some of you are familiar with programming. That takes me to my next topic- what can you do with magic?" She flourished, and as she moved, the room started to gently change colors, dancing between dim reds and greens and blues. The neon lines went into overdrive, desperately performing the necessary actions to apparently maintain that state. "The fact of the matter is that it has to come from somewhere in you. I''m a bit moreбн flexible, so I chose the one that would be easiest to share with the most people. By visualizing and actuating mana into inputs and outputs, and ''interpreting'' it into a basic programming language, I can give a bit of physical form to it." She said, and the room returned to normal, as if it never changed. "You are familiar with programming, yes?"

    Over half of the people in the room grunted affirmations. It was practically mandatory for STEM positions, at this point. If they could levy that to do magic, then maybe those stupid courses were worth it after all. Merrilyn beamed out at them. "For this first day, we''re going to try to engineer magic. The more correlation there is between our magicians, and the better access we have to their techniques, the faster our understanding will grow." She said. James nodded at that. If magic was so varied and odd, then having the same launching point would make things easier. Over the course of the next hour, Merrilyn sought to teach them how to focus their internal mana to one area or another of their body. Virtually everyone got that, even if some people were rather bad at it. Things were going smoothly, and it almost felt like a rudimentary course, like they should have already known it from the start.

    Things got tough when Merrilyn started explaining, as she liked to call it, ''magic assembly''. Less than half of the people who knew how to program were even capable of keeping up with it. A few people in the group that couldn''t program were so desperate that they actually figured it out, surprisingly. James wondered if they would have been ''untapped geniuses'', back home. For his part, he kept up alright, but it was still quite difficult. The biggest hump over the horizon, he was ready to get to spellcastin''. That was when the real weed-out started: executing the program. "Alright," Merrilyn explained, "When you have your ''program'' in mind, you need to bring it deep into your brain, and then feed it fuel. Visualize throwing wood into a smoldering fire. You can''t smother it, but too little wood would kill it just as quickly." A few people had instant results, albeit not very impressive ones. Most notably, one collegiate who had been studying programming managed to make a stream of water shoot from his hand, but as it made contact with anything ''of substance'', it disappeared. One blast soared right past James'' head, but he didn''t even feel it displace air.

    No matter what he did, it just wouldn''t work. He was pretty sure even a misfire would make something happen, judging by the weird shit appearing in front of a few people. No matter how much wood he shoveled, nothing happened. Nothing at all. Merrilyn turned and started mumbling to the other two at the front, visibly disappointed in this outcome. She sat, and thirty minutes later- James never got it to work, even after rewriting a simpler ''program'' from scratch- She spoke up once more, distracting everyone from their magical tinkering or desperate attempts to make anything happen. Only six people managed to make it work, in the end. "Congratulations to the lucky few. You will receive direct tutoring from me-" she ignored the panic that sent through the ''lucky few'' with impressive tenacity- "since we have managed to find common ground. I urge all others to not give up in your aspirations. While we''ve proven that some methods of ''spellcasting'' can be shared, we''re also quite certain that there''s more than one right way to go about it." James fell back into his chair. He hadn''t even realized how panicked he had been until the tension washed away. This wasn''t the last chance he had.

    "For the bulk of the group, that''s all for today. My ''magic assembly'' programmers are to stay with me for more studying; but otherwise, you''re free to do as you please. Your homework is to find something you could improve in the city, if anything. We will have more tests tomorrow, and so forth. As our pool of knowledge about these New World sciences grows, it should start to snowball." James was impressed at how boring she managed to make something as awesome as ''doing magic'' sound, but he supposed it was part of the teacher persona. He stood from his chair, trying not to let the disappointment get the better of him. He walked over to the soldier group, playing meet and greet. The people who had been following him for a long time- "Gregory ''Big Greg'' Tortillo" and "Jim", James had never heard Jim called anything other than ''Jim'', even by his family- smoothed his re-introduction over and vouched for him. After a break for a ''little'' discussion about whether or not Merrilyn could hook them up with guns within the year, they finally decided to go out to scope out the town. James was a bit out of his depth as far as guns went, so it was a relief when they finally got moving. If they started quizzing him on trigger discipline, he was pretty sure that he''d be cast out by the time he finished a sentence. Over the past month, he had learned very quickly how to navigate ''acceptable'' and ''in-group'' topics, but these guys were all very serious about their firepower, quite possibly moreso than the Midwesters were about their religion. Most of the others had already filed out of the Fort by the time they''d gotten half way through the discussion.

    The city was alive. The moment they got out the door, they caught sight of goblins running through the grassy field. A small army of them were scrambling around, playing a game that looked like a mixture of hide and seek and tag. It was impressive how quickly- and quietly- they moved. In the distance, James could spot a few of the arm-heavy Gomen practicing their shot with some exceptionally oversized bows. They went for the bridge, goblins scattering in every direction as they approached. He really hoped that the ''alliance'' Kat had described would last. The road had some traffic, residents and some members of the new arrivals alike milling around or chatting. For a hostile occupation, things did seem quite lax. He supposed that was the benefit of a world that was perpetually in a state of power struggle. That, or the Gomen just weren''t as good at holding grudges as humans. There had been some dead, but it was mostly guards and combatants, in large part due to Ayala''s quick reaction to the bomb scare, so it wasn''t like there were too many who died needlessly. Merrilyn was apparently practiced at starting fires that gave people time to vacate, so even the burning of the west-end district wasn''t too fatal. He was glad they wouldn''t be at odds with the natives as a result, but he had mixed feelings about having a domestic terrorist- among other things- so high up the food chain.

    They went westward, and quickly the replacement structures came into sight. They were multi-floor constructions, and the way they intermingled made it feel almost like a mall, with corridors interlinking or connecting otherwise separate structures, allowing someone to pass from store to store without returning to the main road. At first, he thought it was still abandoned, but the tavern had plenty of people. Quite a few of the Gomen were on lunch break from mining, hunched over huge steins of ale, or clapping along to the little ditty a girl was singing from her table. James recognized her- she was one of the eight survivors of Pod 5, and a talented singer, a real people person. She was a bit young to be hanging out at a tavern, but she- and her rendition of ''Space Flight in the Night''- were quite well received, so he let it be. He wondered if the miners had any clue what the words meant, or if they were simply too drunk to care. Jim and the boys plopped down at a table, and he followed suit. Back home he had never really been one to ''go out'', and certainly not with such a tough crowd, so he was happy with the fact he hadn''t stepped on any toes. They stayed in that tavern for quite some time, just drinking and singing along to the music and having a good time. He even made friends out of a few of the locals. It wasn''t until evening came and went that they were reminded why people preferred to drink at night, but that was fun in its own way. There was a barfight or two, but things were so normal. Stumbling through the town in the dark wasn''t half as bad as waking up with a water-wolf trying to bite your ankle off.

    Eventually, he found his way to the bridge, and he keeled over the railing. Hereally hoped there weren''t people working down there, or they''d be liable to get an unpleasant gift from above. It was a long walk, and in the process, he sobered up a little. A few of the Fort''s windows burned with candle-light, but otherwise, the night was serene. James could see every star, every little speck on the horizon. It was an experience like none he ever had on Earth, just on the merits of light pollution alone. He hadn''t known he was in love with the night sky, but he definitely was now. It had been shining so beautifully over them the whole time, but he''d never noticed. There''d never been time to notice, honestly. Everything was so beautiful, around him. If this really were some crazy advanced VR game, he would have adored it. It was like stepping into a world only told of in stories from the long past, with animals everywhere and crisp air and ancient stone cities and taverns, complete with entire other sentient races they were coinhabiting it all with. Now that the ''Spinosaurus-to-peaceful night sky'' ratio had improved significantly, he was actually warming up a bit to the situation he had been thrown into. There was even a chance he could learn magic! Thoughts spiraled in his head as he stumbled to his bed- it took some effort to remember which room was his through the pounding headache- and he flopped down onto his bed. It was a modest thing, but it washis, and it was a bed.

    It was the first day he had spent in the New World without having to fight for his life, and that made this strange little cityof theirs something special. If it came down to it, he''d even call the place his home. They had finally foundtheir ''Promised Land''.

 020: Jinx.

    Madeline was a busy girl. She found her place in the City of Man quite quickly, and once she built up a routine, she stuck to it. It made her happy, far happier than she had ever been back at home. In the mornings, she attended the daily ''magic study'' sessions. The White-Haired Witch let the groups diversify significantly, to try to hunt down what would work and what wouldn''t work for each person. She insisted that they try to get as many people practicing the "same magic" as possible, but they could hardly seem to get more than two or three practitioners that lined up closely enough to learn from each-other. For instance, Gen and Mister Moses found common ground in drawing mana from groups, as long as everyone felt some sort of unity. It was too abstract for her to really get a grip on- what made for ''unity''? How did they "feel" each-other''s mana, let alone concentrate it- even if it was quite similar to the trail she herself was trying to blaze.

    It could be said that even different magic was similar and even magic ''of the same type'' branched out significantly. One of the children figured out how to channel their mana through ''tic-tac-toe'', for instance. Despite how inane and ridiculous that was, the effects it generated and even the way the magic operated were quite similar to Merrilyn''s lauded ''Magic Assembly''. Similarly, despite how Gen and Mister Moses were nearly indistinguishable in methodology, they had dramatically different effects, with Gen using manipulating group mana to ''buff'' certain members as necessary, while James linked everyone together somehow, making a number of people operate like one body. It fit with the personalities, too- James was a great guy, but he had always given her ''cult leader'' vibes. It was a small miracle that he hadn''t forayed into politics on Earth. Gen she didn''t know as well, but he preferred to be ''in charge'', and even if she was more or less tactically illiterate, she could guesstimate some applications of his ability on the battlefield.

    Back home, Madeline had been a nobody. She had a "talent" for mathematics, but she never liked it. It was just a realistic goal for a realistic person to pursue, a long life in theoretical math and academia. Her parents quite insisted she abandon her silly little hobby and ignore how much she hated the subject, and she had hated them a little bit for it. Still, no matter how much she was stifled by their expectations or miffed at the way they lorded over her, she had been terrified when she was stolen away to the New World without them- they were her parents, and they were always there for her before, so why not now? When giant rodents started hunting them down through the huge tunnel system that had been ''Pod 5'', she was just relieved that they wouldn''t die horribly like almost everyone else did, that she wouldn''t have to hear their screams or see their anguish as they were torn limb from limb like she had with so many others. Honestly, she would probably never forget the gratitude she felt towards James and company for getting her- and the few others who had survived- out of that hellscape, freaky mind-meld powers or no.

    She had spent most of her time in the group making herself useful. She had skinned rats and frog-wolves alike, and even killed a few. She got a stab in on a literal fucking dinosaur and she was one of the few left to brag about it. Even the locals were impressed whenever she told that story. When they got into town, the standing orders went from ''be useful'' to ''be yourself, it will make you useful'', and when she heard that, she knew that for once, she was free. There was no need to go do complex math, there were actual engineers in the city who were happy to do that, nor a need to go help hunt down monsters. She started walking before she knew where she was going, and she started singing before she knew what she was doing. It was scary at first, and considering most of the crowd was both ''drunk'' and ''still chafing under military occupation'', she was sure she''d get booed- or worse. When they actually started singing along to the shitty little pop-song she sang acapella, she had been floored. The audience wasn''t just receptive, they seemed ecstatic to have something to listen to. Eventually, she had a pretty big crowd of humans and nonhumans alike, listening to her and drinking, having a generally good time. At one point, James had even convinced a bunch of guys to give her a backbeat to accompany the songs. They were drunk enough the timing was almost always off, but she gave it her best go, and they ate it up.

    That was the start of her ''routine''. She sang almost the whole night before running off to go sleep, and it was the first time she hadn''t had a nightmare in months. They had been plaguing her on Earth, too, even before she had found out what human insides look like as human outsides. She spent mornings getting the tune and practicing with mana, learning to focus it in the throat or mouth or tongue. To her relief, her voice even stopped sounding hoarse- she could sing for hours on end if she so chose and still be able to talk in more than a whisper the next day. When the mornings'' magic classes with Merrilyn ended, she would spend the afternoon mingling with others and making connections. After an appropriate amount of face-to-face with fans, she would spend the evenings singing, always trying to push her vocalizations to the next level. She even started to compose her own songs, trying to work in choruses and refrains from the Common Language, which helped her familiarize with it and excited the natives quite a bit. After her evening performances were over, she went off to her room, studying the notes Gen had distributed on the Common Language and its structure until she was too tired to manage it, and then she slept like a baby. No nightmares. Rinse and repeat.

    It was almost the best she could hope for, except for one bit- the magic. She really felt like she had the right idea, but it just wouldnбпt work. In her sparse spare time after classes and math practice was over, she had spent most of it playing VORPGs, that was ''Virtual Online Role Playing Games'' for the uninitiated, as a Bard. It was her calling, to make people feel better through music, and Barding had just taken that slightly moreбн literally. She had been excellent, and every group she was with quite appreciated the fact her singing had been tolerable or even excellent compared to most Joe Blow bards running around. When they said she needed to find a magic ''suited for her'', she had been terrified it''d end up being programming- what with years spent doing math and such- but that had been a bust. To her chagrin, so was channeling mana through song. She didn''t know what else she could ''be'', though, so she had to be doing something wrong. Based on the success stories thus far, the immaterial system that governed "magic" seemed to branch off in a few different ways. The first branch was how the spell drew its mana. Most people were classifying it as ''group mana'' versus ''solo mana'', with solo mana magic only scaling with one''s own supply, like Merrilyn''s magic, while ''group mana'' was more like Gen''s or James''.

    Madeline had a hunch it had more to do with how mana was levied. External mana had a set of conditions to be used willy nilly, namely taking charge of a region. At the same time, one guy in particular had figured out how to screw with plants, although his control stopped at ''growing rapidly'' at the moment. He had been a gardener back home, and he was the only one with this power, adding more credence to the initial guess that access to magic had a lot to do with who or what you are. More importantly, his own mana didn''t seem to be taxed by the act- which challenged the notion that you ''needed control'' to manipulated external mana. Ayala, the muscle-wizard, spoke at length about how her Darth Vader style powers came from simply visualizing mana as invisible ''arms'' for her to use and abuse, and also about how limited her pursuit of magic had become as a consequence of a malformed style. Even with the entire city''s collective supply, she had a very limited amount of things she could do with it. Even just figuring out how to make the orb of darkness around the Hanging Prison had taken her years and required quite a few sacrifices as far as her psyche was concerned- simply because it couldn''t be translated into Punch-ese. On another note, as horrible as that sounded, it gave Madeline hope. Who cared if she wasn''t ''supposed'' to be some sort of magical Bard? By God, she would make it work, regardless of whatever anyone thought. It was that thought that kept her resolute on the path to be the best damn singer this New World had ever seen.

    Things had mellowed out a lot. In the first days in their new home, people had been frenzied to help develop the city, or to figure out ''magic'', but it wasn''t like every day could be a new discovery. Honestly, she was impressed they made as much progress as they did. They were already half-way to a working sewer system and it hadn''t been but a week or two. Things civilizations had taken centuries or even millennia to develop were getting knocked out by the day, especially when they initially arrived. Today, things were quiet. The vast majority of the hundred-something human residents were gathered in the hall, practicing or desperately studying their ''talents''- including Madeline herself. No matter how much she struggled, she couldn''t force the mana to carry out. As minute after grueling minute crept by, she switched it up, trying again to hit that ''special spot'' that Mister Moses kept talking about, where everyone was sharing their energy. That didn''t seem to work, but she felt closer just a bit closer. It wasn''t like math, where if she was left in the dark, it was simply mumbo-jumbo to her. Considering she felt that way about magic, that seemed almost ironic.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    That was, it was a relaxed evening until one of the soldier boys she had gotten to know- they''d been frequenting her ''concerts'' ever since the first day- had a breakthrough. It was Jim, one of her biggest fans, and he had succeeded where she hadn''t. People quite underestimated the muscle-heads, writing them off, bit Jim was as clever as a snake. He had ignored any and all inkling of using magic to enhance his aim or swordplay, and even ignored Ayala''s strange route. Instead, he set out to making a physical change to his body. He had been raised Taoist, the strange religion of his family. When she had chatted him up, he had let slip that he was one of the few dogs of war still left- part of the reason he was one of the few people still enlisted in any army was because his family had strong military tradition, tied closely with what appeared to be their religious concept of the ''humble soldier'' built up since the late 20<sup>th</sup> century. He had been training to be a soldier from the starting line and unlike her, he had been happy with hispath. At one point she had convinced him that she was quite interested in what he was trying to accomplish, sitting about introspectively and calmly, unlike the rest. He said it was a long story, but he gave her the short version.

    His religion had a great deal of mysticism cooked into it from early history, and while many converts and more ''modern'' practitioners wrote a lot of it off, they still taught about it, emphasizing the importance of the virtues extolled rather than the shamanic traditions. In this ''New World'', he was hoping to recreate some of it, starting with the concept of the "Neidan"- the body as a cauldron. Rather than let some ''internal mana'' float around god knows where, he tried to form what he called ''dantian'' throughout his body. He talked at length about how cool that would be, his ''tough military guy'' fa?ade breaking for once. Apparently, he had been read a few translated "Classics" written in the early 21<sup>st</sup> century at bedtime when he was an impressionable kid, and he was using this opportunity to try to capture some of the things that had fascinated him then. The only problem was that no matter what anyone did, it was really hard to force a legitimate physical change of any kind to manifest. ''Plant Guy'' was about the closest thing they had, after Ayala''s strange bubble.

    The guy had done it, though. He had brought his dreams to life. He was quite visibly excited, none of the usual stoicism present anywhere in him. She spotted the change before most everyone else did, but when he started floating, most people started to take notice. Her eyes must have been a mile wide, because Jim noticed her gawking and grinned at her. He even gave her a little ''thumbs up'', which drew some attention her way, as well. As large as the room was, a big guy like Jim walking through the air got just a bit of attention. Merrilyn even applauded, giving him a mechanical clap so repetitive and emotionless it set Madeline''s spine to tingling. She doubted anyone else had quite the level of auditory focus she had, and maybe she was overreacting, but it was creepy. Jim floated about, taking broad steps through the air. He had describe to her quite a few times the obsession with flight in those various stories. In many, they used fantastical implements to fly- such as flying swords- while in others, they could just fly on their own. The way that he was floating about now was surreal, and judging by the lack of a sword-surfboard, he must have settled on emulating the latter type. Maybe it just was the latter type- no emulation required.He nearly conked his head on the ceiling once, but the flight was pretty smooth- until he fell to the floor. In all, it had only been about ten or fifteen seconds, but he was out of juice. He doubled over, coughing up thick globs of blood. A few people ran over, hollering for bandages or medicine of some sort, but he waved them off gently, stumbling to his feet. He had an odd expression on his face, which sat somewhere between a grimace and laughter, and he looked a little worse for wear, but he didn''t seem to be dying- at least not visibly. His insides were another matter, but if he had bad internal damage, there was little they could do for him.

    At least as far as she could tell, Jim had succeeded in his goal. He had done something way harder than what she set out to do, and he finished it before her. The room shifted and chattered, the most alive it had been in a good bit. His military buddies- and James, who had somehow slipped into their in-group despite never being military- ran over, and they clapped him on the back and jostled him, raucous celebration. One guy looked miffed, pulling out a handful of the unmarked copper coins that were used as currency in the region and practically forcing it into Jim''s hands. She chucked at that- it wasn''t a good idea to make bets where magic was involved. Others followed suit, crowding in and asking no doubt a million questions. Kat was looking positively glowing, and Madeline had a pretty good idea of why. If she put two and two together on Jim''s methodology, it meant her own vanity project had merit. Kat had apparently become proficient at manipulating air in little ways, wind magic largely focused on speeding her up. Putting the wind in her sails, so on and so forth, which would have been great if she could fucking walk. The story was tragic enough she had felt like strangling Ayala, no matter how ''compliant'' the bitch was, when Kat had finally explained how the fight went down and spoke about the painful days that followed. Ever since, Kat had been desperately trying to learn how to heal the nerves and vertebra. She spent every morning channeling copious amounts of both internal and external mana into her lower back. If Jim could grow organs through a bit of grit and a lot of belief, then maybe she could will her back to be fixed. In contrast to her high mood, Merrilyn and Gen were arguing, which was quite the rare sight. Despite the fact that the White Witch wasбн of questionable sanity, she actually fell in line with the community- and Gen, as defacto leader- quite easily. She wondered what it was about, and then promptly realized she didn''t want to know. Something about the way Merrilyn kept turning to look at Jim like he was a lab-mouse made her more than a little bit concerned for the guy''s wellbeing.

    This was just another thing they didn''t understand. Everyone was tapping into this ''magic'', but it could be programmed, it could be used like Steroids, and they had yet to see it defined properly. Every definition thus-far had been inaccurate, wrong, or needed more context, and it was context they didn''t have access to. Things like what Jim had just accomplished blew everything they knew out of the water, and there were fair few places to turn. Goblins were no help, since they were nonmagical as a rule, a lot like the Gomen. Ayala was a notable exception, part of an already intensely powerful race- what with their insane musculature and strange physiology. The Warden''s own policy on magic was more or less guesstimation, much like their own. They explained that it was as rare for a ''fully magical race'' to be placed this far towards the Outer Reaches as it was for a ''nonmagical race'' to be placed towards the Apex. Many stories were told of those races, the great and terrible monstrosities who were simply too strong to be placed with the rest. Some had even risen to challenge the ''First Ones'', who were so intimately magical they were considered to be all-powerful. In fact, stories were told about Goblins too, who had been one of those races. She wasn''t quite sure howthey had been yet, since they seemed so cute and friendly and weak. Contrasting no small number of RPGs, they were friendly little buggers, and intensely respectful to humans. They hadn''t so much as looked at her the wrong way, which was more than she could say for a few of the human guys. Ignoring that tangent, the real point was that the only other race in the area who were naturally magical were the Kaenids, and they were dangerous as all hell. Both the Gomen and the Goblins had been quite insistent that we avoid them at all costs, since the Kaenids were quite a bit more violent than the average resident of the New World. Considering the fact that almost everything outside the city had tried to eat her? That was high praise. Kat had described the one that had massacred their Pod as well, and it didn''t sound pretty.

    Netya, captain of the Guard, burst in through the doors, hollering about "the Scaled Ones approaching" and "humans being chased". He looked positively terrified, contrasting strongly his usually grumpy demeanor. It had been odd how only their group had arrived from the summons- they had been quite certain more people were alive. At the same time, she didn''t like the sound of ''the Scaled Ones''. Considering the train of thought she had just been onбн Madeline swore under her breath, shouting in English that they were under attack. Not everyone else had started Common Language training, much to their detriment. Most just kept mana in their ears and tongue. The room swirled into panicked motion as people ran. Many ran for the armory, while others- accomplished ''Magicians'', mostly- ran for the front door. Despite how peaceable and friendly things had been, it looked like the real world was hunting them down. For all of her relief at leaving the Floodplains, something deep in her missed this. Things were going to get real simple, real quick, and she''d be fighting for something that belonged to her- and her friends, her new ''family''. They were unified in this, at least. She saw some panic on faces as they rushed by, but more frequently, she saw determination- and excitement. Trouble was coming their way, and trouble was where the fun was, even if it meant many of them wouldn''t live to see the next sunrise.

    They were going to war.

 021: "Birds Eye View"

    Gen had been preparing for this. To say he was "prepared" for an army of Lizard-men wasn''t quite right, but he made great overtures towards modernizing the City of Man''s military, infrastructure, and industry. Compared to how things were under Ayala''s command, the city was damn near self-sufficient, even if trade was still necessary for foodstock. He had even started working on that, too, explaining to some of the smarter Gomen the process of artificial selection for plants and setting them to growing a number of test batches of edible local plants, but even the ones that were fast-growing, generally root vegetables, had only entered their second generation. The only real alternative was to hunt down seeds from the agricultural communities they bought the food from, which was much harder than he had hoped.None of those things were super relevant at the moment, though. He shook himself out of ''mayor-mode'' and focused on the groups down below.

    Netya, captain of the Guard, had been swift. Ever since the occupation of the city, he had grown quite sullen, and maybe a bit lazy. He didn''t bother to even consider insubordination when the Kaenid were involved. Leg-centric Gomen put some of Earth''s best runners to shame, quite frankly. He hoped he''d never have to outpace one. Thus far, things had been calm, but not anymore. At the bottom of the hill were two groups, charging upwards towards the city. One was a group of fourteen or so humans, scared out of their wits- some injured, albeit not so seriously they were debilitated- and chased by a thirty-strong group of bipedal Crocodiles. They weren''t moving anywhere near as fast as he knew they could, at least based on the one that had slaughtered his Pod (as the newcomers insisted on calling it) all that time ago. The first of the Kaenid to spot someone (namely, him) looking down at them from the top of the Walled City''s ancient walls broke the army''s ranks, gawking. The croc got the other''s attention, pointing him out, and the army eventually halted entirely.

    One of the first projects he had established was building new ways up to the top of the walls. At first, he had wanted staircases, but Kat actually suggested taking advantage of the fact they were the ones occupying the city and making something more subtle. Instead of a ladder or stairs, they had carved out a smattering of handholds and perches that, if you followed a simple algorithm as you climbed, would take you all the way to the top. Newcomers might not even realize they were functional, perhaps assuming the dents were aesthetics only. It wasn''t the most conducive to moving a ton of people up to the top of the wall at the same time, and it wasn''t necessarily the fastest method, but it did take advantage of a few ways people could use and abuse internal mana. One of the handy things about knowing advanced human biology was that it helped them understand how to shift the energy about to give them an edge. For instance, they could focus on the inner-ear (which felt as weird as it sounds) to put their balance system into overdrive. Apparently that had been how Merrilyn, who wasn''t naturally talented like Kat, had escaped so quickly- she had run over the chains by abusing that heightened sense of balance.

    He stared down at them, and they stared up at him. The haggard group of humans made it to the (locked shut) gates, banging on the massive doors. He took advantage of the lizards'' distraction to signal behind him, a short burst of hand movement that more or less told the people below to open the gates. Ideally, they''d figure out that they were supposed to shut them back afterwards. He pumped mana to his lungs, diaphragm, neck, tongue, and throat, generally emphasizing everything he knew to be associated with speech, before screaming down at the unblinking Kaenid that were staring at him from below. "What do you want?" He asked. If there was a chance that they would leave peacefully, maybe the confrontation could be postponed until Project B was completed.

    One of the lizards stepped forward, never looking anywhere but at him. It shouted too, just as eardrum-shatteringly loud, but at least he was far enough away for it to dissipate a bit. "Among other things, for the city to follow the peace accords your master signed." He scowled, which was almost terrible as its grating voice. Even if the Speaking of Tongues was translating it, it didn''t change their physiology. Gen still woke up some nights with that terrible ''laugh'' fresh in his mind. "I''m afraid I amthe master of this city, and I have signed no ''accords''" He replied, letting a little bit of annoyance seep into his voice. Predators responded angrily to haughtiness and murderously to weakness, and if he were to pick one of the two, he''d prefer angry any day. The Kaenid was suitably miffed. "The Warden has controlled this city for decades, even under threat of far greater powers, and you expect me to believe that it has been taken?" The disbelief was probably warranted. Ayala was dangerous on her own right. If they had challenged her to a proper fight, they might have lost. No, almost certainly would have lost. The amount of hubris required for the lizards to consider themselves ''far greater powers'' might not have been so justified, and a certain General objected quite loudly to the idea of being belittled. Gen kept it bottled up for the moment. Well, at least he tried to.

    "You will leave. We will discuss the diplomacy between our two ''countries'' at a later date." He growled, a bit of legitimate anger seeping into his voice. The Kaenids had butchered so many humans, even using the stupid, terrified group of fourteen to try to smoke out more, and they came to his city, making demands? Frankly, it was sending him into a bit of a fit. The one who was yelling up at him didn''t seem to take the hint. "Bring out the Warden or surrender at once. We are authorized to use force, if the Walled City has grown so weak as to fall to puny apes like you." He retorted, deadly serious. Gen had already begun throwing more hand signals back to the people below. He stalled, simply standing there without reply. The officer grew increasingly furious, reforming ranks. The army at the bottom of the hill was still for a moment, and then ran, full-sprint up the hill. Their speed was terrifying, frankly. It was quite literally inhuman. They made good speed, but not before tens and tens of goblins filed up the wall. Gen had them line up on the handholds, each prepared to mount the wall at any time- they weren''t quite so ''below'' as he pretended. They also each had crossbows, which accounted for another major development for the city. The strange forest that surrounded the lake had excellent timber, and with Merrilyn''s help, they''d begun to treat it properly. All that was left was Gen''s instruction, and a bit of hard work, and the crossbows entered manufacture. They weren''t as potent as the compound bows they were working out for the Gomen, but they were great for this. They had made nearly a hundred of the things, emplacing them in little cavities near the very top of the wall, along with bags of bolts.

    The small army of goblins took a well-practiced aim. The first volley caught the giant lizards off guard, striking them from above. A few even took legitimate wounds, pierced between where scale met skin. They quickly hunkered down, and the bolts started bouncing off. Gen scowled- guns couldn''t come fast enough. They were still struggling to find an easy way to start pumping out actual metals from the local area, but it was hard to find any untapped deposits. The goblins kept firing, and the lizards'' speed slowed down significantly- enough for Merrilyn''s platoon to reach the top of the wall. They had been hard at work, and her "Programmers" had undergone significantly more military training than most of the other newcomers. A few looked wobbly from the climb, visibly horrified at how high up they were. As a general rule, nerds tended to avoid thrills, not seek them o ut. Gen wasn''t used to it either, but it was only right for a General to be fearless, if only to raise morale. He waved his arm, and the programmers all bowed.

    The power flowed through him. It was a pleasant sensation, almost erotic. Suddenly, Gen felt connected to each of them. Naturally, that was an extension of the fact that he actually was, but it was still alien to him. He could feel the ethereal shape of the mana spread throughout them like silhouettes, and as soon as they relinquished control, he swept it to their brains and fingertips, turning them into floating heads and fingertips as far as his magic was concerned. It had taken some great effort to learn to concentrate on the job and not on the simple pleasure that washed over him with each new person under his control, especially since it was magnified with each new addition, but he had finally gotten quite good at it. He still shuddered to think how hard it would be once he was synchronizing entire armies. He refocused, and flooded the seven of them with equal and seemingly endless measures of External Mana.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Merrilyn bent all the way over, placing each finger-tip to the ground, and the rest followed suit. It was almost like they were preparing to start a race, carefully postured in a sprinter''s bend. The goblins scattered and black ribbons shot from their hands, trailing all the way down the wall. It raced along the ground, interlinking to form a massive black wave that seamlessly covered and replaced the turf it washed over. The Kaenids, still running desperately for the wall and hunched over, wary of the volleys that had been coming their way, were shocked to see the otherwise normal terrain turn pitch black. Many of them tried to wheel away or scatter; looking about for anywhere that wasn''t covered in strange curtains of void, but not before the neon lines finally reached their destination. Suddenly, their feet found no purchase. The ground was still there- they could feel it under them, and it wasn''t like they were falling through, but they couldn''t move from it, couldn''t push their way off of its strange surface.

    Merrilyn had thought desperately for a way to use and abuse her "Programming" style of ''magic'', especially since it wasn''t until recently that they had proven it was possible to manifest things physically from Mana- even Ayala had been essentially using ESP. She discovered that it was incredibly difficult- and draining- to make anything unusual happen at all. A perk of the advanced education of the modern era was a more firm understanding of physics than the locals. She realized that if the black surface she could generate wasn''t simply an illusion, but a real ''thing'' fed by mana, what if she tweaked its variables? It took her a lot of trial and error to find a property that could be used and abused, but she finally found one that was worth the expenditure. She had figured out a certain combination of ''magic assembly'' that, when pumped with enough mana, would make the surfaces non-interactive. In real terms, she had shut down the property of ''equal and opposite reaction''. The surface was still real and tangible, but they could not act upon it. Something as simple as walking requires a number of forces to act upon both the person''s feet and the ground itself, so this served as an effective ''snare'', among other things.

    It wasn''t as though it had no flaws, but Gen thought it was a fantastic first step. He saw several applications to the strange spell/program. What if they applied it to a shield, would everything stop on it harmlessly? Could they apply it to their walls to make invaders slip off? At the same time, it put huge strain on the casters, and they had no idea of how the enemy could retaliate. Would it break with a single spell? If they were to fire a gun, would the projectile forces simply ''slide'' them off? The surface was also effectively frictionless, and if you were informed enough, you could try to abuse the properties of air to pull yourself off.

    That was all for the future, though. In the moment, the lizard-men were reacting suitably poorly. Some flailed about, tipping over, and found they were unable to recover. Others were more cognizant, carefully balancing, and wary of what came next. The lucky few had even figured out a loophole, close enough to the edges of the huge black surface to jab a spear into normal soil, struggling to drag themselves out. All the while, the goblins had returned to firing. They expended their last arrows, firing volley after volley, some even finding purchase in scaly necks or underbelly. The solid, unwavering forces of the Kaenid were starting to slip, and it would cost them. Far more important than the volleys of the goblins were the small army of humans and Gomen that flooded from the gate, who were hoping to encircle their downed group. Each was armed with spears and shields, with a few of the soldiers who had knife-training brandishing daggers.

    Gen would have done his best arrogant general laugh if he could, but he was drained. Without the constant battery that was the pool of External Mana, he couldn''t maintain his power very long. Still, he struggled to keep every last bit of his subject''s energies focused on the spell. External Mana was something they were ill-informed about. At first he thought it was endless, a natural home-field advantage, but during experimentation it became very clear that not all magic was created equally. The spell Merrilyn and company were maintaining drained it at an alarming rate, and with all of them, they could entirely deplete it in just thirty seconds. Indeed, even as the army finally completed ranks more or less entirely encircling the small Kaenid army, they faltered. The spell fell away, and all seven of the "programmers" keeled over unceremoniously. Gen himself struggled to stand firm, ignoring both the sudden realization that he had never planned on how to get the unconscious mages back down the wall, and the pain that suddenly racked his body. If it had gone much longer, he''d have passed out with them. It was up to the people below, now. He hoped they would notice that the enemy had not used any magic, even to escape their trap. What sort of powers did the lizard-men actually have?

    The human troops took potshots at the Kaenid, stabbing at any who were too close to the edge of the black pool. As it disappeared, they tightened the circle, hoping to constrict them so closely that the much larger lizard-men would be forced to fight for room if they hoped to retaliate. A few of the Kaenid actually went down from their wounds, whether it was the gaping holes left by spears or crossbow bolts still poking out of their scales and armor. The group reformed, making a tightly knit circle. Suddenly, no one was scoring any more wounds, even if the enemy was still on the defensive. At least eight lizard-man corpses were left on the ground, but they seemed determined to allow no more. In fact, the Kaenid officer who had spoken before was positively furious. The formation held, and they were trapped. Suddenly, their scales started to shine. It was a dim glimmer, but it was still hard to miss. The humans fell back, more cautious.

    The Kaenid advanced. Their disappointing performance before was replaced by the dangerous speed and sheer force of the one Gen had witnessed not too long ago. They seemed to float over the ground, each blow deadly and accurate. This time, the humans were not so pliant. Gomen and Humans alike died, but so too did the Kaenid. One fell after the other, and tens of humans spread over the ground, until there were relatively few on either side remaining. Even some of the soldier boys Gen had been so hopeful to see grow under his command were down- as inane as it was, his thoughts turned to how torn James would be over the losses, if he was still alive. He had no way of knowing whether or not there were familiar faces in the pile of corpses. The encirclement held, but only just barely. The Kaenid officer was among the ranks, standing proud over one dead body, albeit wounded. The entire fight had migrated somewhat back down the hill, with the lizards trying to push free from the circle- and away from more dangerous magic or volleys of arrows- and the human troops hoping to keep them contained.

    Merrilyn stirred, looking down at the carnage. She scanned the fight, taking in as much detail as she could. It was pretty impressive, as far as he was concerned. "This was an excellent outcome," she said. He had to disagree on the simple merit of people died, but also on a more objective level. "It''s too early to say," he replied, pointing down at the killing field below. The Kaenid officer and his last troops made a last ditch effort to escape. They took wound after wound as they ran, mowing down whomever they could. At first there were eight, and then seven, and then four, and then just three- the officer and a few rookie troops. They weren''t quite as stoic or proud as he, running desperately and frantically. They broke free, speeding away for the woods. Jim flew from the slow crowd of those still alive trailing behind the fleeing lizards, flung for the officer. His dagger sunk deep in its neck, and they toppled to the ground. Gen cheered him on silently. "That, Merrilyn," he said, "is averting the worst case."

    He stepped forward dramatically, pointing now to the dead officer and Jim, who waved its decapitated head triumphantly, almost like a flag. "A good result would have been no survivors," he continued. "Without the officer, whatever information they get will be flawed, but they will- in all likelihood- make it home." He dropped his arms to his side, and Merrilyn began to swear. Gen had all but said it. They had won the battle (if nearly sixty troops dead for twenty-eight was a ''win''), but now there really would be war. Even if the real Kaenid army was not so populated as one back on Earth, they could still expect far more than a measly thirty to attack, and it would be an army that knew they were dangerous and ready to fight. They had been preparing for this day as it inevitably approached, but it had come so soon. They were undermanned, outgunned, and out of time. The first real challenge forthe City of Man was coming, and it was coming fast.

 022: Terrible necessity, negotiable sanity.

    James had been in fights. He had looked death in the eye more than once. Each and every time, the fights had been against animals, and the deaths were simply the danger of an untamed wilderness, a consequence of being dumped in the midst of an eminently hostile landscape. This? This was different. The giant crocodile men were people, sentient enough to make the decision to enter into such carnage. Everywhere around him were dead bodies, mammal and reptile alike, and many with familiar faces. This was not ''nature taking its course'', it was war. Both sides were riddled with holes made by spears, or covered in bolts like porcupines. When the Kaenid started glowing, it turned from an engagement (of which they had the upper hand) to a massacre. Like a force of nature, they tore through person after person, but for each kill, they took a wound, until finally they fell.

    He could recognize some of the dead. In the final charge, the commander of the Kaenid platoon struck Greg. His head had popped like a balloon, and James could still remember the terror and the rampant fury he had felt in that moment. Greg was his friend, even if he was a bit of a quiet guy. He was part of his flock, as small as it had become. At least one member of his shrinking group of lambs had been taken to slaughter by a wolf in a scaly disguise. It was wrong, and he hated hit. James had not been one to hate, but the hate he felt now for the Kaenid officer who had killed one of his was a giant stone weighing down his mind. No matter how he thought about it, or what he thought about, it was still there, just waiting for him to fix the problem. "An eye for an eye, Mister Moses," it whispered into his ear, a slow tide of insanity grinding away at his psyche.

    He shook it off as best he could, or at least tried to ignore these alien urges he was feeling. He stood in an army of corpses, and there were still wounded who needed to be carried back to town. James rallied the survivors, many of which were still elated at Jim''s triumph over the officer. He wondered why he didn''t feel like celebrating, but that brought back that sickly voice whispering in his ear, so he instead doubled down on getting people corralled. Eventually, people started to respond, noticing a few of the ''dead'' were simply wounded. When James took a more quizzical look, he spotted the girl who sang at Tavern every evening. She had been hit, but it was a glancing wound. She fell from the shock, and judging from the way she held her stomach, she was stepped on. It was startlingly difficult to avoid corpses, especially if you didn''t notice them. Thankfully, she seemed salvageable, so James decided to carry her back himself. He hefted her up into a princess carry- which was far less ''awkward'' when the recipient happens to be bleeding to death- and looked expectantly out at the crowd of people. They started to shuffle about to survivors, lifting them up or working to tie their wounds over.

    It was a grueling trip back up to the gates. They were glad to have the hill, given that it was the only reason they still had a place to call Home, but it didn''t make coming back to the city any easier. The citywas left wide open and James could see concerned people, the humans who had remained in the city and gomen who had family members participate alike, lined up in the market streets. They were like a funeral procession, and hewas struck nearly dumb by the odd atmosphere. Half of the crowd was waiting in anticipation or tears as they tried desperately to spot their own loved one, while the other half applauded for their triumphant return. He wasn''t sure what sort of response he was supposed to give that, so he just looked stoically down atMadeline. She was stirring now, pulled back somewhat from the shock that had taken over when she was injured. He quite hoped the people looking at him didn''t get the wrong idea about his staring.

    It struck him hard when he realized that this was what life was, now. War. The unlucky few left Home to hope they returned alive, and himself desperate to see those he cared for survive, even on the battlefield. He remembered Jim''s fury when he saw Greg die, which made him recall his own, and it took him a few beats too long to realize he had stopped walking, and someone jostled him from behind. He acted like nothing happened, twisting the terrible grimace that had swept over his face back into a straight-lipped placidity. Why did they have to die, really? What was this all ''for''? Merrilyn had shown them some magnificent things with the city''s mana well, but it simply wasn''t worth all this carnage. Surely there were lines of people like this back in the Kaenid city too, awaiting their war-party. Perhaps not. Gen had said that they were watching- that they had some sort of magic that let them ''see'' far away. Maybe they had already spotted their dead war-band, and they were preparing the bulk of their army already to avenge the fallen. It would be dumb luck if they had more than a week to prepare, really. It was too much to fight off an established empire with just a ragtag band of humans and some half-willing subjugated aliens.

    He bet that the only reason they even participated in the fight was because of the Kaenid''s reputation. If Warden Ayala thought she had a chance in hell negotiating a ceasefire, he was almost certain she would have thrown them all under the bus, proverbially speaking. Even if she seemed happy with the way the city was shaping up, they were still conquered, and something about the way these "magical powers" worked set James on edge. It was bad enough he had ''changed'' just by coming to this shit-hole of a New World, but when he really used and abused the mana properly, it pushed him over the edge. All of the rampant socialization he had become accustomed to became nigh-irrelevant and he just took over. Sure, they needed to consent, but how long would that last? Mind-Mages were notorious in every game he had ever played for being absolute assholes. No one really liked being controlled, and James quite suspected the fear of an absolute take-over was why Gen had never given him a drop of external Mana. Not that he could blame him, of course. It was simply too much of a risk. Gen had a real adverse reaction to ''linking with people'', and while James couldn''t feel much when he did it, what if it was actually addictive?

    The bridges were empty. Ever since the traders disappeared off the face of the earth, that had become an oddity. The cityfolk had taken to meandering around on them, using the bridges as a sort of gathering spot, a scenic place to hang out. Without caravans roaming back and forth over them to worry about, it was more of a commons. Now, though, they were devoid of anyone. That gave James a bit too much time to think about how the goblin traders had disappeared off the face of the earth. He didn''t know too much about medieval combat, but he was pretty sure that sieges were wars of attrition. Gen hadn''t seemed worried about it before, but he had mentioned off-hand that they were running low on long-term foodstock. The markets were drying up too, so it wasn''t like they could requisition their supplies. If they were looking at a defensive war, wasn''t that a problem? At some point, James had ended up at the front of the army line. Their footfalls were more or less in unison, rattling the bridge as they marched. He worried about the future for a while, then worried about Madeline a bit when she tried to stir and move about, and then he worried some more for good measure. It was hardly a good state of mind, but it was better than the alternatives of panic or rage, which were about all he could muster at the moment.

    He was drained. Usually he enjoyed long walks, and especially on the lush grass that lined the little sector that was the ''military district'', but he just couldn''t enjoy it. Every moment was another they weren''t training for the next fight, or another moment they hadn''t treated the wounded. It was a relief to finally arrive at the Keep, swinging open the doors. The tables in the room had been replaces with fabrics and quilts, and Merrilyn stood alone in the room. There were a few boxes of curious implements, and when he got close enough, he could distinguish quite a few stone-age replicas of modern medical tools. The fort''s main hall had been turned into an impromptu combat hospital. He strode forth towards the nearest emplacement, carefully laying out Madeline upon it. She twisted in pain as she stretched out, still half delirious from blood loss. He went for the tools, hoping to find gauze or some sort of tape, when someone reached out and snagged his wrist. It was Merrilyn. She had practically floated across the room, and she wore an impressively welcoming, disarming smile. He almost forgot who he was dealing with in the radiance of it. "I will take care of the little miss," she said, wearing a lilting accent he couldn''t quite identify like a brand new set of clothes, "while you go speak to Gen in the back room. He needs you immediately." He almost refused, but it might have been for the best, anyway. The Imposter had quite a variety of talents by necessity, and it was quite likely first aid was one of them. He was also quite certain that the steely eyes that sat right above her mouth were not smiling. He hurried away, gratified to see her get to work. "An eye for an eye, Mister Moses," Madeline''s pained grunts and yelps called after him. James had heard of PTSD giving people hallucinations before, but this was just getting obnoxious. He had only heard the phrase once, so why was it chasing him, and why did it make him so angry?This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Gen was alone in the back room. It had been cordoned off with a rare, proper door, and it was his de-facto office. They didn''t use it too often, the community of humans wasn''t super discreet given all they''d been through, but it was private enough. Gen sat forward, leaning on the peg-legged table, hand crossed over his hook in an impressively businesslike gesture for a teenage pirate. He smiled as James walked in, pointing to a chair. James was confused- this was not the sort of meeting he had expected. There were people dying out in the next room, and Gen was in here doing some sort of interview? He withheld judgement, though. For his equal measures of intensity and awkwardness, the boy usually knew what he was doing. Also, even if he did get pissed and start a fight, he would probably get butchered. They had ''brawling practice'' once, and Gen had downed four people at once- with one hook tied behind his back. It was actually quite frustrating, having your boss''s authority backed with true force. So, James just sat. Time crawled by, and suddenly he started to get a real bad feeling about the whole situation.

    "I''m not a good person, James." Gen said, as matter of fact as can be. His shoulders twitched, as though shrugging. He exhaled with the words, letting it all out. The airy quality gave it a guilt that James recognized from conversations with those in the group who had done things, who had done wrong. He sat at attention. Gen continued, "I am, in fact, a very good General- at least in theory. I took my name for resolve, more than anything. You haven''t met me in my capacity as General, have you?" James shook his head. There had been off-putting moments, but nothing like what Kat had described on the night they arrived. Gen had just been Gen. Short of a few little brawls; he hadn''t even been especially remarkable. "I have mislead all of you, and almost from day one." Tears welled in his eyes, contrasting his otherwise stoic and determined face. "The losses out there today were acceptable losses. A small sacrifice." James reeled back, as though he had been punched. Fury roiled in him. What did he mean, ''the losses were acceptable''? What was the point of a General if he was going to treat his soldiers like toys? He stomped to his feet, rushing forward. Gen didn''t respond at all to the (non-verbal) threat, he just spoke once more. "Other than me, none of our little group knows it. Not even Merrilyn, though I suspect she''s pretending as much as I am." James stood there, angry and confused. He could hear his beating heart chanting to him. "An eye for an eye, Mister Moses," it said, insistent. If for that reason alone, he forced himself back together. He would be furious, but not controlled.

    He huffed his way back to his seat, and Gen exhaled softly. The boy didn''t look intimidated, but he had been worried of something or another. "You see, we have been at war from day one. I am not playing to win a battle, as tantalizing as more soldiers alive-" James'' face twisted in rage once more at the insinuation that people were merely soldiers, but Gen placated him, hardly pausing, "but to win the war. I suspect you have played Chess, James?" He asked. It was actually fairly rare for someone to have played Chess, as antiquated as it was, but James had at least played the modern variants, so he nodded. Gen smiled, "I trust you understand that sacrifices must be made if you should hope to win. Now, it isn''t quite as impartial if you''ve tossed human lives out like pawns, but it''s still valuable. Somewhere in my broken mind, the thought of only the strong ones like you, only the survivors returning was satisfactory." He said, resolute. James kept himself calm, focusing on the implications. Gen wasn''t focused on Greg or Madeline or James, and maybe not even his own suffering. He was playing Chess, and James suddenly suspected the General was not, in fact, the King. If it wasn''t self-interest, a need to survive, what was it? Realization dawned on James'' face as he thought it all through.

    Gen''s smile deepened. "You''ve figured it out, I take it. In the long history of this New World, I," He jumped to his feet, suddenly gaudy in every motion. He flourished about, finishing his sentence amidst the motion. "I am to be the first Cao Cao. I will exterminate the Kaenid so tidily none will remember they existed but for the monuments to my triumph, and my people will hate me all the more for the terrible guilt of triumph" He stopped, stoicism returning. "When the people learn of what I''ve done, what I''ve decided to do, they will respect me, they will fear me, and perhaps most of all they will hate me. I will rule only on the grace of my repeated victories, the first Human tyrant to have his names down in the history books- and ideally the last. Assuming that my very first gamble pays off, that is." He learned forward, grim face suddenly uncomfortably close to James'' own. His metal hook tapped monotonously on the table, suddenly ominous in the torch-light. Said torch-light seemed to dim, weakening to a glow that emphasized the curvature of Gen''s face. "I already look like this, imagine what I''ll be like in a decade? With a few more battle-scars to deform me? I''ll be a monster, inside and outside," Gen finished. He fell back to the chair, seemingly exhausted. James slowly nodded, soaking it all in. The boy had been broken at some point, although that may have been way back at the starting line. It may not have been a problem in the cushy planet that was Earth, but here? Gen was struggling with circumstances that even war-hawks would gawk at. His fury seemed to fade, although it really just found its way back to the real target of his animosity- the lizards.

    He hated the Kaenid. Deep within him, he knew it was wrong, that they were sentient, more than some unfeeling mass of murder. Perhaps they could be reformed or maybe even quarantined away to where they could hurt no more people. At the same time, it was so easy to hate the damn lizards for what they had done, the losses he faced in the wake of their- and Gen''s- decisions. Gen was sympathetic, accountable. James felt more pity for the boy, given the decisions he had made, and the role he had taken. James couldn''t have done it himself, and maybe that was why he wasn''t the General. The Kaenid? They had obliterated person after person, members of his Flock. Destroyed some so thoroughly that he couldn''t even recognize them- James still hadn''t seen Jeremiah since they left those stupid city gates, and he couldn''t know if he was dead or wounded or missing, because too many of the dead had been mangled beyond recognition. The big reptiles hadn''t even been polite enough to give a real reason why it needed to happen, and as he thought of them, he found that his anger was actually growing stronger. In contrast, Gen''s face drained of emotion, returning to the placid and commanding look of the General that he was starting to get awfully familiar with. James spoke for the first time, finally confident that he had listened long enough to earn the chance to be heard. "Why are you telling me this? Why not leave me to be shocked and appalled with the rest when it''s all said and done?" He asked, watching Gen''s reaction carefully. There was none, which wasбн jarring.

    The boy responded, saying that "When this war ends, I will become the next big bad, an oppressor they will struggle to oust, at least until a bigger threat arrives. We have returned to the era of Caesar, and I hope not to find his fate." James gasped. He would never kill Gen, especially not now- he froze. What if he did learn with the rest? He had been a leader- or at least a legitimately influential figure- before throwing himself, and his Flock, at the General''s feet. He was uniquely positioned to have betrayed Gen, or even led a rebellion. The kid was playing a long game, two steps ahead. His voice quavered as he spoke. "Wouldn''t you just- kill me? To get me out of the way?" He asked, both worried and now wary. He didn''t move though, since in all likelihood, Gen could kill him before he could make it to the door. It would be a very General-y thing to just up and eradicate threats before they could become a real problem, even if this was quite the campy way to do it. Suddenly compliance seemed like a very, very good idea. Gen didn''t lunge for him, though. He just chuckled a little, shaking his head.

    "As much as I am monstrous, I am not a monster-" James took note of the fact that the General liked to dip into petty eloquence for use at a later date- "and I don''t want to see you dead." Which was at least a little bit reassuring? He wasn''t quite sure. Gen continued, "I hope to put you to good use. If you''re as smart as I think you are, you''ve figured out why I''m- why my decisions are a necessary evil." He pointed at James from across the table, intent. "I am to be the first Cao Cao," he said. "and you are to be the first Napoleon. With less me-decapitating, of course." James nearly fell over, and he was sitting. If he had his Enlightenment history rightбн "You want me to rebel?" He asked incredulously, barely keeping himself from shouting. The General chuckled again at that, far more vigorously- confidently. "This land has one leader, and that''s not good for business. There needs to be at least a second country for the interim periods, somewhere for pacifists, free-thinkers, and the otherwise rebellious to flourish." James started laughing as well- thatwas ridiculous, but in the strange logic of this New World, it made sense. He would have his Flock back, after all. They both grinned at each-other, suddenly seeingeach-other as they truly were: leaders of men,monsters in human skin, and most importantly, kindred spirits.

    "What''s the plan then, oh Tyrant?" He asked, not concealing the good humorin his voice. It''d be rare for them to get chances to talk alone like this from now on, no doubt, so they might as well take the chance to be friendly. "I''m afraid you''ll have to be a bit more patient, you dumb rebel," Gen drawled. They laughed and laughed, only finally putting a stop to the laughter onceMerrilyn barged in and informed them that their maniacal laughter was, in fact, quite audible tothe small army of people other room, and that a few people were looking uncomfortable. With that, they had to put a cap on it, and when they were certain Merrilyn had left- and stopped listening in- they refocused on the task at hand. It was going to be a long night, after all. There was a conspiracy to plan.

 023: "Performance Art & Inside Jokes"

    Singing didnбпt feel quite the same when things were so grim. The city was in motion, desperate to prepare for the oncoming onslaught that they were so certain was coming, and Madeline did her best to help where she could. Between the wound and her generally unimpressive frame, she couldnбпt really do much, but she tried. Everyone did- even the kids seemed to buckle down and focus, which was a miracle in and of itself. Ever since they got to relative safety, they had returned to being боnormal childrenбп again, but the recent slaughter had shaken them out of it. When she stopped working and took a break in the evening, the taverns only had a little bit of traffic. Something was to be said for how fucked they were if even боdrinking their sorrows awayбп didnбпt seem to be an option. She still had to hope her music was helping, even if it was a sorry few.

    James and his crew were among the few regulars that still showed up. She was afraid for them for a few reasons, not in the least including the fatalities. Everyone saw Greg die, but they only learned later that Jedediah and Marquez died with him. They found out when they did a б░head-countб▒ and realized that a couple of the corpses sans noggins looked an awful lot like people they knew. Madeline had sat out that task, even if she was getting used to it, it was hard to look at the sort of carnage that the fucking lizards had left behind. Once they started their stupid shiny routine, their spears went from боdangerousбп to боlethalбп, delivering blows that reminded her more of guns than the rudimentary weapons they actually were. Evidently, the Kaenid had no such issue synchronizing their racesбп б░magicб▒. She really, really didnбпt want to find out what they could do with the entire well of external mana at their disposal.

    The performance tonight was nerve-wracking. Not because of her singing- that improved every day- but because of how close the lizards might be to attacking them. It was a nervousness born of an inevitability, that their army was always approaching. Theyбпd made great progress over the past week, which was reassuring, but theyбпd arrive sooner or later- ideally later, but there was no guarantee. Despite how far away their main city was from localsбп testimony, they made amazing time. She thought Kat had been exaggerating on how fast they were, but after seeing it first hand, it was quite possible the girl had understated it. Which made sense- from everything she had head, Kat would have been the fastest runner in the city. Given her magical aptitude and even the little progress she had made with it, she may have even outstripped the lizards. The near-complete absence of the gomen made her a bit nervous, too. Short of the tavern-keep and servers, they had gone missing. None of the miners bothered to show, and that was rare enough. What could they possibly be doing? They really couldnбпt afford a native uprising in the midst of a war.

    She closed out the song, emphasizing each word with a slight lilt that gave them a tone that she hoped was б░dramaticб▒ and б░inspiringб▒. Any little bit of motivation she could give the poor guys was worth it, in her books. She noticed James staring at her. She returned his gaze, confused, and when he saw her lock eyes, he just smiled. That was even more confusing, but before she could so much as move, let alone find her way over to the table, he shot to his feet. He filed out of the tavern, still smiling. For most people, that sort of thing would have been creepy. For James, she figured it was just foreboding. This was Mister Moses, after all, and he wasnбпt feeling quite right. Since the first fight, heбпd been acting a bit strange, exuding equal measures of confidence and gravity. She didnбпt think it was a good look on him- usually, he was just goofy, but in an endearing sort of way. Even when he led them through the flood-lands, he had never looked quite so serious.

    She dismounted the table she had been singing atop, finding her way to the floor, ready to chase after James and the rest. She nodded gracefully at her fans as she went, pacing for the door. Her pace broke into a sprint as she heard the people yelling outside. Gen had taken to stationing goblins at some distance from each-other, just far enough to hear each-other shout. They were like an alarm system, if she were to compare it to Earth. She didnбпt know how they stood there so long, although it seemed like they switched out at odd intervals. Madeline had never been a big fan of боstanding still and doing nothingбп, even if she wasnбпt hyper. Hell, even doing math would have been better than that. The goblins were used for the very first time now, and she could hear their echo. At first it was gibberish, but as she moved mana to her ears and reached the street, she could hear the message- and it was exactly as she feared: б░The enemy are approaching, please proceed to your stations.б▒

    By now, a small crowd was forming on the streets, dispersing in various directions. They had been preparing for this over the past week- really, over the past month, but Gen had overhauled everything only recently. She wasnбпt quite sure why, but he had placed her atop a guard tower well within the city. The few gomen still working in the district ran in a completely different direction, while most of the humans were heading for the fort. It wouldnбпt do to question it, though, so she just went with the crowd. It was a long run, but she made good time, climbing the towerбпs ladder. As her head poked over the main platform, she realized that she had shift with James and Jim, which was awfully coincidental considering she got along with them the best. She filed away accusations of nepotism for later use, instead focusing on the tools within the tower. It had some crossbows and bags of bolts, not unlike the ones used by the goblins in the first defense. The tower itself also had a solid view of the western bridge- and gate.

    The gate had been fully reconstructed, and although it wasnбпt so decorative as the last, it was at least as functional. It stuck out with the discolored stone of its surroundings, but it was a significant improvement over the last rendition. More importantly, the huge stone doors that formed its боlockбп were swung wide open. When Madeline looked to the far side of the city, she spotted the other gate in a similar state. She could see over a hundred of the lizards charging up the hill through the gap of the west gate, and no doubt an equal number of soldiers at the east gate, if not more. This was their worst nightmare- had they been betrayed, after all? She clambered up hurriedly, snagging at a crossbow. James put a hand on her shoulder, which would have typically been reassuring, but this was a warzone, damnit. Why was he getting handsy? She whirled around- to see him with both hands held high over his head.

    б░Donбпt shoot!б▒ He gasped, jokingly. Madeline realized she was gripping the crossbow uncomfortably tightly, with her finger hovering over the trigger, so she lowered it. James wiped the grin off of his face, suddenly serious. б░Calm down, Madeline. Weбпve got an army to fight and angry soldiers donбпt win wars.б▒ She spluttered at that. б░Itбпs justбн whatбпs happened? Why are the lizards being let in?б▒ She asked. He shook his head. б░Hell, if I know- did you hear about this from Gen?б▒ James asked, looking at Jim. Jim had become increasingly important to the General after his incredible performance in the last skirmish, so maybe he had more info than they did, she figured. The man shook his head, though, so apparently not. He looked impressively stoic for someone who was about to fight a massive army with no wall and no back-up from the natives, and if Madeline didnбпt know the guy so well, she would have thought he was hiding something. In the end, they had all been left in the dark. She groaned. б░Either weбпve been betrayed, or we need to find a chance to have words with Gen later. This just doesnбпt add up.б▒ She said, suddenly more nervous than before. James shared her concerns, grunting in agreement, and they all tried to focus back on the matter at hand- survival.

    Things looked grim. The fastest of the Kaenid had already reached the gates, stepping foot into the city. They seemed visibly confused, but when they spotted the hairless apes atop the guard-tower, they relaxed. Their adversary had decided to hide further in the city, abandoning the walls- so it was safe to attack. Still, they tread carefully, wary of ambushes. Rather than an all-out sprint, they had entered a stable march, a line of reds and blues and yellows shimmering in the sunlight. The sight was breathtaking- for all the wrong reasons. Madeline figured it would have been beautiful if it wasnбпt a giant army coming to murder them all. They marched through the city, two groups making their way to the bridges. Some even fanned out, falling into the residential districts, out of their view. It was like the tide washing over a beach, seemingly endless, but as they walked un-intruded through the city and got to the bridge, they had finally all entered. At least, as far as she knew, it was all of them. Now that they were closer, she was certain she could make out nearly five hundred of them. The lizards crowded the bridges, not taking a step on. They stared down the group opposite them, squaring off.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    At some point, the troops had mustered below them. Most of the remainder of the humans, men and women and children alike, were armed and ready for the reptile menace, standing resolute on the green grass. With them were no less than fifty gomen, and Madeline was relieved to see at least that many were standing up for the city. The rest were missing, even the non-combatants. Nothing about the situation added up, literally or metaphorically. The Kaenid roared, a terrible racket that probably constituted a challenge. She nearly fell over under the vibration, no doubt magically enhanced. She felt like that would have made her flee or surrender in any other situation, but as cornered as they were, that simply wasnбпt an option. By the time she got her bearings, Gen had walked a quarter of the way down the bridge, mirroring a massive Kaenid that dwarfed him totally. It was only wearing an armored skirt, and the milky-white underbelly most lizards had was more like a toughened grey hide in this case. It had scars, but clearly no injury to its weakest point had been fatal. She knew the General was crazy, but was he actually going to duel that thing?

    The two combatants stood there facing each-other, both audiences hardly moving a muscle in anticipation. The Kaenid behemoth was the first to move, hunkering down. Even at a distance, he seemed to loom over Gen, and his scales started to shine. These werenбпt weak glimmers like the little troopers they had fought before, no, this was something else entirely. Its entire back was lit up, and with the light, the red scales had turned into dancing flames. The massive beast charged, and Gen began to laugh. She wasnбпt so sure that a giant fucking monster running at you was funny, especially when it had covered most of the gap before he had got out the first chuckle, but Gen seemed to find the situation hilarious. Maniacal laughter stirred the crowds, and they began to shift uncomfortably. Gen continued to laugh as he dropped to his knees, sliding under the behemoth. The terrible spear it tried to pierce him with seemed to rip the air, and as the surprised lizard tried to stop, a blast of wind shot from the massive stone head mounted upon it. Gen was behind it now, and Madeline couldnбпt even see him behind the bulk of the creature- and then she could. Only instants later, she spotted his head poking out from above the behemothsбп shoulders, as though it had grown a new head. It roared, spinning about. Gen had stabbed it with a dagger which sunk deep into its latissimus, and he must have used it as a springboard to shove his hook deep into the behemothбпs trapezius. Now he hung from his hook, even holding onto the prosthesis with his right arm to try to keep it from detaching. The creature writhed, and spun for a while before it figured out that strategy wasnбпt working.

    It stopped twirling, back left facing Madeline and company, and she could see its muscles tense. The General reacted quickly, sliding out the hook and falling away, rolling. The Kaenid slammed down on its back, trying to squash him, only to realize he had dislodged himself. It howled, stabbing out at him with its mighty spear in the midst of a lightning fast roll that took the monster all the way back to its feet. Gen was barely clear of the thing, but the force of it was enough to launch him back. He was still laughing, which was starting to scare Madeline as much as it seemed to have terrified the Kaenid army on the other side of the bridge, but he sputtered with the боimpactбп. He ragdolled, rolling away towards their side, and she gasped in surprise. Gen struggled to stand, and the behemoth charged him, intent on finishing the job. At some point- Madeline hadn''t even seen it happen- Gen had removed a second dagger from his belt-sheath, and he chucked it fiercely with his right arm. It shot like a bullet, and she could see his arm tearing itself apart, muscles writhing, blood splattering the bridge. She hadn''t known he could do that. Even if the consequences were immense, it was quite impressive.The dagger landed cleanly in the behemothбпs side, and the two daggers lodged in its body were nearly touching eachother through its viscera. The creatureбпs frenzied charge faltered, staggering dramatically to the side. It was bleeding profusely now, and she could even see some discoloration in its grey underbelly. The huge Kaenid seemed to be regretting not wearing armor, clutching at the wound with its free hand.

    Gen finally pulled himself together, and the laughter stopped. She wasnбпt sure why, but the behemoth seemed terrified of the little guy, reeling back. The Kaenid army seemed to react the same way, and she had to wonder what exactly he was doing to scare them so much. The bleeding lizard reeled back, finally looking serious for the first time. The arrogance had drained from its face. Gen just strode forward, freeing his last dagger. He threw it up into the air, and it levitated. The over-sized knife swooped about gently like a bird in the breeze, and suddenly it righted, the blade lining up cleanly with the behemoth''s head. It flew, swooping at incredible speed for the monsterбпs exposed neck. It hit with such impact that it shot clearly through, jetting off into the distance, and the great and terrible leader of the Kaenid army teetered and tottered, finally tipping to the side- and off the edge of the bridge. It was lost to the abyss below, and both crowds went still once more. Madeline was pretty sure Gen hadnбпt been able to do that before either, and sure enough, she spotted Kat hunched over in deep concentration, mingling in with the crowd. Those crowds were both frozen in place, now shocked at the unceremonious outcome. That stillness was only broken when the Kaenid began to shout and point into the crowd. She wasnбпt sure what they were saying until she filtered it with her mana, and their ragged, reptilian voices were apparently calling out about б░Blood and Tabooб▒. She didnбпt quite get what that meant, either, so she tried pumping more mana to her ears, but the message never changed, although she started to get a headache from the exertion. What could it mean, then? She realized suddenly that they had spotted Kat, and they were pointing straight at her. She felt a twinge of fear for the girlбпs safety, but Kat wasnбпt the only one in danger, now.

    The armies charged the bridge, and as they clambered across, Gen began to laugh again. With all that had happened, it was even worse. The sound was distorted in her ears, growing more and more sinister by the moment. If he was so powerful, and if had such great tricks at his disposal, why hadnбпt they used it before? Did all those soldiers have to die in that skirmish? Why hadnбпt he even seemed phased by the fact the city gates were open? They were left so far out of the loop, and it scared her. Gen had presented pretty well, an astute general who was concerned with humanityбпs future, but this? This was something else. He was no General of hers- suddenly, the shadow cast by his small frame was a monster that dwarfed even the Kaenid behemoth he had murdered moments before. James was staring out at the bridge, every bit as terrified and dumb-founded as she was. Madeline had been about to voice her worries to the others when the explosions started.

    The bridges collapsed, both sides and supports crumbling to dust under blast after blast. Gen never stopped laughing as he fell, and both he and the army tumbled into the abyss below. The humans who had finally began to mobilize and remember what situation they were in had been denied their fight once more, and they fell silent once more. The Kaenid who hadnбпt made it on the bridge yet werenбпt quite so stoic, panicking as they tried to find a way down to their fallen comrades. As terrible reptilian screams ushered up from the impenetrable darkness, though, they stopped. The Kaenid were not used to fear. They had conquered many peoples, eliminating competition or forcing those not allegiant to them to flee. They were the objects of terror, not cowards. Now, though, the stricken looks on the lizardsбп faces were that of abject fear. This was not a siege, or a war- this was a slaughter, and they were on the receiving end. The screams died down as quickly as they came, and the army stopped looking for a way down. Officers of their various squads, those few who had survived, rallied the troops. They were intent on retreating, and they hoped to re-organize. Even as they began to retreat, the gates slammed shut. Platoons of little green creatures dragged corpses out of every alley, the Kaenid who had been hunting through the residential districts. The goblins had killed them all in the midst of the city, and none had lived to return and warn the army of the imminent danger. The walls had long since stopped protecting the citizens of the City of Man, transforming into something far more malicious- a cage of stone, a killing field.

    The remainder of the Kaenid army was trapped.

 024: Far away.

    The problem with shamanism was the blurred lines of power it contained. If it were up to him , heбпd reform this stupid spell from the ground up to deal with the problems that plagued it. Nettle wasnбпt a High Shaman just for show- he understood far more about mana than most of his compatriots, and he knew all too well how faulty their doctrine was. Naturally, he grew far too old and set in his ways to change his own discipline, no matter how talented he had once been. He couldnбпt even train a new generation in a more versatile discipline without being branded a heretic or an apostate. For all intents and purposes, his fellow Kaenid were totally justified in worshipping the God-Kings of old. The power of strong belief and tradition was accruing greater power over time. In the past, every time it had been necessary, a Purple One rose from the void, taking their civilization to a new height. It had given them great power, infinite riches, and control. Their race had learned quickly that control was priceless, valuable to such a degree that nothing else compared. Control had allowed them to do great things, and forced them to do worse. He wondered if the situation at hand was the price to pay for not simply relinquishing some of that beautiful control to the slow trickle of newcomers from Below.

    Nettle knew all that, but at times like these, he couldnбпt help but resent the old ways. The б░Purple One of Many Eyesб▒ was sixth in the line of Great Succession, and when the populace began to worship him, the shamans divined new power- the ability to watch. It required ample light and a shiny crystalline surface, but it was quite potent. Before their Ascension, they had used it to scour the Old Worldбпs mountains and seas, granting the already lethal Kaenid near omniscience. The key to keeping that claim accurate, to distinguishing it from blind propaganda or pride, was the word боnearбп. The limitations were serious, but he had never felt them so dearly until now. The tower was rife with Shamans, desperately forcing their way through the black shield to try to see what was happening in that terrible abyss, to get a grip on the state of their army. The chandelierбпs incredible radiance shifted and shimmered on their scales as it swung, jilted about by the rumbling frenzy of twenty giant reptiles stomping around hurriedly below. It made for an interesting scene, with the heavily curtained windows of the endlessly tall spire making sure that the bright candelabrum was the only true source of light in the room.

    One big limitation that plagued them was a lack of hearing. The Many Eyes only saw, and looked, and watched. They had no Many Ears to go with them, no absolute mastery of the senses. Many a Shaman had taken to learning to read lips in the Old World, and even maintained that practice into the new, but it was difficult enough to understand the Common Language- to try to боreadбп it off of puny mammalsбп lips? That was on a whole different level. Nettle had always been averse to the idea, had always considered it a waste of time. He regretted that now- if he could read the lips or speak the language, maybe he wouldnбпt be so afraid. What had that little creature been doing? Why had the General seemed so injured from those tiny little daggers it used? Was the General truly dead from his tumble into the abyss below, and why had the army entered such a frenzy? One or two of the other shamans seemed to imply that there had been cheating, but frankly, he had no idea how. Using the Many Eyes and keeping a tight track on what was going on was quite difficult, and unless they were focusing on it, it was like it only боfocusedбп on one thing at a time. Really, it was only practical to track insurgents, typically when paired with the powers of the б░Purple One of the Waysб▒, the eighth in the line of Great Succession. Until he arrived, people had assumed the Many Eyes were totally worthless. Nettle groaned, wishing the Fourteenth in the line of Great Succession would hurry up and hatch. It was already about time, but this Purple One had been dawdling. If things were as they feared, a new Purple One was needed now more than ever.

    One of the acolytes still standing around the massive crystal ball in the center of the room suddenly screamed. The rest of the shamans ran for him, and the poor guy fainted even as Nettle arrived at his side. He refocused the magic ball, using an odd mixture of prayer and mathematics to return it to how it was before the Shaman had stopped feeding it mana. It took him no time at all, and as he found the target the Eye was tracking, and he nearly choked. The younger Shaman had managed to break through the web of darkness. More properly, based on the sudden racket surrounding him- he was too concentrated to really take a measure of what was going on- everyone had broken through. The thick mana shield the Gomen had long ago used to obstruct their sight had fell, and the Many Eyes were rapidly catching up with the Kaenid they had been tracking, down in the Abyss. That was the crux of the Shamanбпs panic- he had got a good look at the poor soldier. He- no, it- wasnбпt just dead. It had been mangled by the fall, and on its torso, Nettle could see tens of perforations, little stabs and cuts that gave small windows to the delicate insides of the warrior. More important than that was the state of its limbs, its head- Nettle wretched, and the Eye lost focus. Another limitation of the Many Eyes was that it required constant attention to work, never allowing for even a momentбпs break- no matter how gruesome. A particularly nasty race of the Old World had once tried to use similar techniques to disrupt their spying, but this? Nettleбпs thoughts flit back to the dead soldier, and the puked once more for good measure, stumbling away from the crystal ball, getting some distance as he tried to get a grip on himself.

    He saw now that many were having the same reaction, perhaps even less gracefully. Some had actually smeared some of their lunch on the ballsбп surface, which would have typically been reason for demotion, if not execution. He decided to pardon them, on account of what they were dealing with. Any doubts he had on the policy of extermination were squashed. This new race was vile to the extreme, and for the Warden to show them this intentionally, perhaps they had underestimated the need to eradicate her, too. Nettle scanned the room, and he noticed that one younger Shaman hadnбпt fled at all. The acolyte was simply standing there, in awe- or terror. Nettle hurried over, still gingerly dodging the increasingly disgusting spots of floor where another Shaman had боbeenбп. The smells were growing worse by the moment, and he hoped someone had sent for assistance with the mess. The acolyte was shaking, now. His big scaly shoulders were quivering like a little girl, and his eyes were beginning to tear up. The focus he had maintained so mechanically was beginning to snap under the pressure, and Nettle only had a moment to see what he was looking at. The acolyte had refocused on one of the attackers, through a stroke of genius or luck, and it was a Goblin. The same race that hadnбпt been to war in hundreds of years, the same race that hardly killed farm animals, let alone sentients. This Goblin wasnбпt civilized, wimpy, or a pacifist. It was covered in blood and viscera, practically draped in it, since it was otherwise nude. It was running about, participating in the violence, and with the focus they could see the glee on the beastбпs face as it disturbed their kinsfolksбп corpses. In the brief time they watched, the Goblin seemed to notice their gaze, and it smiled into the air- at them. The young shaman tipped backwards, screaming, and scrambled through the muck away from the crystal ball.

    The room began to fall silent as the last of the links were broken, a fearful hush that squashed their hopes like a great pillar of stone. Nettle thought he should bring the cowering shamans back under control, but he couldnбпt even will himself to pull things back together. They sat in the putrid fumes for a good while before the rage set in. As the fear faded, as far away as the Goblin menace was, their fury at the treatment of their race stormed in to replace it. They were galvanized, awakened once more. There was little they could do at the moment, but plans could be made, revenge could be gained. Nettleбпs voice was raspy and hoarse (even by Kaenid standards) as he called them to action, but they all treated each word like Amethyst, hurrying about to enact his will. A miserable and quite confused crew of soldiers took up cleaning duty as the Shaman made their way down the tower to the Commons and their quarters, each finding a seat around the huge table. It had a strange shape, something between that of an oval and the profile of a foxglovesбп petals. It was nearly straight and quite wide at one end, narrowing gently and then more dramatically into a single point. Nettle took his seat at the narrow end, sitting opposite of the other High Shaman, who nodded respectfully. Even if they had the same rank, he had seniority. The ranks descended from there, until the table was about half full- there were not so many Shamans now as there once had been. In the same way, the lonely, huge seat at the rounded end of the table sat vacant. It had been quite a few Purple Ones since the last Violet Shaman, and as such, the popularity of their profession waned- even if it was quite possibly the most important one for their continued survival. Especially now that the soldiers were all dead and mangled and butchered and-This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Nettle caught himself, channeling his fury more productively. The conversation began as fine meats were presented. It was an early meal, but quite a necessary one- even on a normal day, Shamanism wastough work, and the use of mana could make the practicionerquite hungry. They chatted about how they should get revenge, spoke about plans for defense and hunkering down, and how they would convey the terrible losses to the general populace. It was quite likely that this would be the last decadent meal for the shamans for quite a while, now that the soldiers had essentially rooted themselves out. They were all the women and children would have left, and that meant they couldnбпt afford to be so lax. In between orating about боgreat revengeбп and боthe futureбп, Nettle mulled over their own society. Things were bad- really bad- with these losses. He thought about re-instituting policies, of bringing back боuntowardбп or боdraconianбп measures the Kaenid of old used to encourage the occurrence of Purple Ones. They needed a new spell, and as soon as they could. Everyone would have to make sacrifices somehow or another, sacrifices far greater than боeating big mealsбп. After all, their only trading partner had taken up a new hobby of brutalizing reptiles past recognition, so there would need to be quite a few reforms in how they even made their armor or weapons. The issues weighed heavily on his mind, but he tried to keep chipper. The other Shaman needed a leader, and heбпd have to finally fill that role. If the warriors had just taken mild losses, this may have even been a good thing, the Kaenid had needed a shake-up for quite a while. He suddenly worried for the other half of the army, hoping they had escaped the venomous clutches of the Gomen and Goblins. Complete collapse of their troops would be an unprecedented disaster.

    The dinner seemed to last forever. When it was finally done, both the fear and the fury had been tempered, leaving only somber resignation and determined resolution. They would lead their people out of this terrible mess, no matter how devilish the opponent was. Nettle stood from his seat, and the rest rose in unison. He roared, the defiant anthem their race had tempered even in the time before time. It was like a song (at least in Kaenid standards), an intonating roar. A chorus of the other shamans joined in, the unique intonation of their voices making an eternal portrait in song. It was a way that they could feel together without sacrificing their own strength, a truly fitting anthem for their race. Nettle felt his resolution harden once more, a destiny in the stars that said he would get revenge for his race, and that he w- what was that ungodly howling? The shamans stumbled for the quilted window covers, and the howling from outside grew louder with each step. Nettle only remembered to push some mana to his ears at the last moment, just before he opened up the window to see what was making that racket. Time slowed to a crawl. The howling was a primordial language, he realized, and one that was likely older than their entire race. Even with the mana-guided translation, it still sounded foreign, as though the cacophony didnбпt even know what it meant. It was an endless chorus, not unlike their own roars, and it only said one word: б░Checkmateб▒.

    б░Checkmate,б▒ the call went. His arm gently pulled back the curtain, as heavy as it was, and the first thing he saw was fire. The outside, the grand fort of the Kaenid, was on fire. б░Checkmate,б▒ they howled. The curtain drew further, and he could see that the hatcheries were burning just as brightly. They had been couched carefully in the safest place of the whole fort, but little green shapes seemed to dance in the smoke. б░Checkmate,б▒ the Goblins giggled, and Nettle could see the torched remains of the strongholdбпs last garrison. The few bodies not smothered in flames were mangled terribly. Nettle drew it further, and he saw that all was fire. Even the residences had been caught in flame. They were quite possibly the last of their race in the entire New World, lone shamans in a land of little green devils. б░Checkmate,б▒ the Goblins howled, and their mad dance accelerated through the flames, drawing ever closer to their stone-walled structure, the last target left in the city. Time stopped moving slowly as they approached, the eternal moment of Nettleбпs everything going up in flames now over. Instead, he heard the rapid stomps of an army, hustling about in the structure. He- and quite a few others- whipped about, cowering. It was only the guards, though, returned from cleaning the tower. Nettle sighed in relief, and he could tell by the stony looks on their faces that they knew of the situation. He took charge, ordering them to guard the keepбпs lower entrance. He corralled the shamans, ordering them to begin the counterattack.

    In the little bit of time those short little conversations had taken, the goblins had disappeared. They werenбпt chanting any more, and they had gone, like ghosts in the smoke. Like it was all a lie. The dead and dying were not a lie, though, and he couldnбпt forget them. Their corpses still lied there on the ground, slowly being consumed by the raging fire the little green devils had started. Even as he began to change his orders, the screams started. The guards who had went down the stairs just moments before were screaming, and the shrieks were nerve-wracking. The goblins had disappeared into the building. Suddenly, all the боresolute and resignedбп shamans were terrified once more, unprepared to find out how or why thing had gone so wrong down there, to learn first-hand how the weak goblins could make such carnage. He hustled them up the stairs to the tower, hoping to buy time- with a choke-point, they might have been able to fight off the little attackers using magic. The б░Purple One of Great Fireб▒ had plenty of flame to work with if they managed to Claim it as theirs. Itбпd be a struggle to convince anyone that the Kaenid still had control, now. That priceless resource may have been stolen away, once and for all. Even as Nettle finally started his way up the stairs, he could hear calls of б░Checkmate,б▒ from below. No doubt, theyбпd be on them in moments.

    On the up-side, the crystal ball was squeaky clean. It would no doubt be covered in a different kind of grime in a moment if they failed. They spanned out in the room, all praying, wholly focused on channeling murder down that blasted corridor. Seconds and moments passed, and Nettle began to get increasingly nervous. Had the Goblin menace simply left? Were they saved? The stand-off had crawled to a stand-still, and just as he started to relax, he heard a new message. It wasnбпt a howl or a giggle or even a shout, but more of a simple declaration, and it came from so close. б░The General sends his regards,б▒ the goblins said in unison, tearing the drapery off the windows. The Kaenid scattered, whipping around to face the little green men who spiraled into their inner sanctum from the now-open windows. The green menace had apparently climbed the tower, and now the situation had flipped. They had been completely encircled, not just trapped at the top of the tower. The Goblins had won. Nettle began to gather power, hoping for a last-ditch spell- if he was to die, heбпd take them with him. Nothing happened. All of the control was gone. The goblins tightened their circle, and the shamans fought each-other for space. One was shoved from the circle, and his fate was truly gruesome. The goblin danced around them, growing ever-closer. Somehow, Nettle knew what this really was, had figured out where everything had gone so wrong. He thought back to a little temple out in the wilderness, an old relic of a bygone era, and two little hairless apes. He thought back to the gaze of that horrible creature, the terrible promise that had been concealed in its eyes. It was not unlike that of their own leader, before his own death. The eyes of the little creaturethat had ended his reign. They were the eyes of a General. After realizing that, he did not think at all, because he could no longer think. Pain and darkness intertwined in his mind, granting him a terrible release from the morbid realization of how trivial their боpowerбп and боcontrolбп had been all along.

    Checkmate.

 025: Pied Piper.

    The magical curtain of darkness of the abyss that everyone had accepted as a fact of life was just gone. Maybe Ayala dispelled it, or maybe it had been broken, or the city was entirely out of juice, but no matter the cause, the entire group of humans could see what was going on below. James was quite impressed by the theatrics, the absolute horror that was playing out on everyone elseбпs face. He struggled to keep his mind on how traumatic and terrifying the sights below were and not on the morbid comedy of it all, that this was for show. The fight had been damn impressive, Gen and Kat had practiced that to the ground, but he wasnбпt sure if even Kat knew about the changes that had been made to the pit. It might have been a secret for just the two of them, Gen and himself, another quiet betrayal to take to the grave. Granted, it wouldnбпt be hard to act traumatized and terrified and angry, since those feelings were real. The longer he looked at the carnage below, the more real it felt.

    It was one thing to know the brutality of war. It was another entirely to privy to it in person, to be trapped in a convenient place to witness every atrocity, to let your morbid curiosity overtake you and force you to a cliffбпs edge- literally- and make you see it. The pit was a very different place, not in the least for the brand new red paint that coated its base hundreds of feet below, a very different shade from the боpitch black, infinite abyssбп flavor they were used to. He couldnбпt even know if the hundreds of tunnels that went off in every direction were new or not- he and Gen had covered quite a range of things, but that hadnбпt even come up. As things stood, the whole array of humans could see the little green specs scrambling about so far below, pitter-pattering about in a sea of corpses. None were injured, none rest immobile. This hadnбпt been a fight- it had been a massacre. The bottom of the pit proved it, if not the terrible state the Goblins had left the corpses in. He could even see the corpse of the giant that Gen had taken down, left pooling in his own blood and the blood of his army. James peeked a glance to the side, and sure enough, some of the other people hanging over the precipice looked quite a bit squeamish, if not outright ill. He suspected that when the scent wafted its way up, theyбпd look quite a bit worse than that. He shuffled back over, looking down, refocusing.

    Alcatraz hung quite a distance above the ravinesбп base. It had been transformed, too. Hundreds of carefully-carved stone spikes were woven into the ropes and chains in nearly every direction. Reptilian corpses were caught on their points, gravity shish-kebabbing them in the air, never even falling the rest of the way. Based on how the other Kaenid had fared, James wasnбпt quite sure if that was a bad thing. Still, the imagery transformed the half-way-home slash prison into a shrikesбп nest, and that gave him pause. Somehow, the idea of Gen having any parallels with that horrid bird terrified him far more than the carnage below. If the kid incorporated боimpaling people and eating themбп into his tyrannical bad-guy getup, James really would have to go to war. The ones who fell onto Alcatraz itself were impaled by an entirely different sort of spear. Gomen stood in rows, still hoisting their weapons high, whether or not they had caught their prey. James had to appreciate the implications, and the little twinge of fear that even gave him. Not only had the madman taken absolute control of the Goblins, an army of hellions that were clearly far more intelligent and vicious than any RPG had ever claimed, but he also had the absolute loyalty of the Gomen, the Frankensteinбпs Monsters that could punch holes in stone or run miles in minutes. Sure, he was the General of mankind, but was he really leading humans?

    The man himself was walking slowly along a rope. It, and the others in proximity, were completely devoid of spikes. Gen was in full stride now, all of the drama he had exuded earlier replaced with cold hard steel. Sure, if you looked at it objectively, he had led them to unprecedented victory, the scale of which the others would likely never really understand. James, himself wasnбпt sure if he believed it all. Gen had forged solid alliances with sympathetic races, and even guaranteed them a solid place to stay in the process, subjugating an entire city with a grand total of three people and then somehow convinced them that standing in rows and spearing falling Kaenid would make for a fun evening outing. On paper, Gen was incredible, a hero of scale that none of them could hope to match. People didnбпt live on paper, though, and even if the damn lizards were the lizards, no living thing deserved the cruelty displayed below. Even the dead deserved their rest. James let the snarl creep into his face, a carefully crafted irrationality that choked out the myriad other expressions he could wear- sorrow at how badly the boy himself was traumatized, bemusement at how overblown his supervillain-act was and how everyone else was eating it up, or even simple terror at how he had actually gone through with that God-forsaken plan. He whipped his head around, locking eyes with some of the others. Some were equally angry, no doubt entirely genuine in their disgust and animosity. Far more were apathetic, shocked and appalled and otherwise completely okay with the fact the enemies were dead. They were the true believers, the fighters, the боdesperate for survivalбп. He paid them no heed, shoving as many meaningful glances, angry grimaces, and crocodile tears as he could towards the would-be revolutionaries.

    By the time Gen began his ascent, the rest of the army was being shoved slowly into the pit. They had been encircled by Goblin and Gomen alike, and without any true leadership to lead or the morale to fight, they couldnбпt break through the trap. As Gen climbed, bodies fell. They seemed to be slow in the air, but he- and all of them- could see the intensity of the drop when they finally crashed. Flailing lizards caught hold of the pitsбп walls, playing hell on their hands and arms and razer-sharp nails, only to be hit by another unfortunate soul headed towards the abyss. He could almost hear the sickening crunch as some fell limp on the the ropes and chains or bent into uncomfortable angles on the floor so far below. The anger became just that little bit more real, and he was quite uncomfortable to notice that there were no new боrebelsбп. The people who were as broken as Gen simply stayed broken, even in the face of a sort of brutality that would have been considered a боwar crimeбп even back when people thought that fire was an element and leeches were a perfectly reasonable medical device. He shuddered to think that he, himself, for all the lip-service he gave his боtotally functionalбп emotions, had yet to actually act on them. He was in control. He was the Shepherd first and James second, war crimes or no. When he looked at Gen, he should have seen a monster among man, but no matter how hard he tried, the kid just looked so human. боMaybeбп, James wondered, боitбпs just that weбпre all monsters now. Maybe I just canбпt tell the difference anymore.бп

    The terrible display was finally finished, and a hook speared the cliff, sinking into the ground uncomfortably close to his face. He had been zoning out like the massacre was just a nature documentary, but the sickly thunk as Gen clawed himself back to the top of the ravine woke him right the fuck up. He reeled back, some genuine fear providing him with the боmethod actorбп pizazz to really sell it. Gen loomed over James as he rose to his feet, a gangly incarnation of menace. The stony face he wore was significantly less боdetermined leaderбп from this angle and far more боIбпm-about-to-murder-youбп, and it worked to great effect. James galvanized himself, flipping over onto a knee, and pointing an accusatory finger at Gen. б░You monster,б▒ he spat, practically slapping the words across his face- which deepened into a frown. б░I did what had to be done,б▒ he retorted, swaying back a little. The people who were sympathetic seemed to actually relax, and the people who werenбпt looked just that little bit more disgusted. So far, so good. James scrambled to his feet. б░How can you expect me, expect us, to trust you now?б▒ he asked incredulously, backing away a gentle pace. Gen stepped forward, ready to speak, but then he seemed to falter. James groaned. He wasnбпt even an actor and he was still stuck to handle the improv. If he forgot his lines, he could have at least set the stage. б░Youбпve got nothing to say for yourself, do you?б▒ growled, still backing away. Gensбп eyes lit up, suddenly more confident. б░Iбпve got an army?б▒ He said, rounding out each word. It was almost like he was flirting, and given the way things had been going, that might not have been far off. It certainly wasnбпt romantic, but they were going to be in a relationship of sorts. Rivals, enemies, боdefinitely-trying-to-kill-each otherбп, and maybe even friends. James scowled and turned around dramatically, stomping away. He could hear a few people stomp after him, equally боenragedбп, and eventually the sounds of a crowd making way.

    The rest of the evening was grueling. It was a lot of hushed conversation, even more uncomfortable glances- if the боnot rebelsбп took action on their own or got too curious about the whispering, things would get tough. With some effort, James was starting to rebuild his flock. He wasnбпt sure if having all of the overly-emotional, moralizing people together was a good idea, but even with that limitation things were going okay. He had spotted a few solid recruits. To his surprise, Jim had seemed quite keen on getting the hell out of dodge, even if the other soldiers were quite apathetic. He hated to take Jim away from Merrilyn and company, but frankly, he needed a powerful mook or two. Itбпd help that he was a relatable enough guy. James was content to be a singular figure, but the more pillars, the sturdier the structure. Some other familiar faces fell into the mix. He was especially excited that his favorite singer fell strongly in the боrebelбп camp, too. The hard part was Kat. Kat was also of the боrebelбп sort, but she simply couldnбпt leave with them. If he even tried, Gen might actually execute them all. Add in the wheelchair ordeal, and she was a wildcard. He could only hope that whatever relationship they had would keep her from quietly killing him in the night. He couldnбпt fathom how she could reconcile the two people in her head, her crush (supposed) and the monster Gen was steadily becoming, but with any luck, sheбпd find some balance. For her sake, and the kidsбп sanity. Merrilyn being a loose cannon was bad enough, and James was starting to feel like she had been entirely too passive about the whole ordeal. Apparently, she only had a little of the боplanбп at large, but she hadnбпt seemed surprised when her explosives and chemicals were used to blow the bridges.

    Night came. It was time for his great escape, and he couldnбпt be late. Gen had made it quite clear that both before and after the caper, the боonly escape routeбп would be closed. If he missed his window, he wasnбпt competent enough to be the insurgent Gen needed. This was his one shot, and if it was a blank, he was down and out. So, James lifted himself from the bed, and quietly stumbled from his room and out into the corridor.

    The corridor was pitch black in the dead of night. He had to get used to life by moonlight, especially since it would be quite a while before they forced civilization along to where they could make their own candles. Practically no one knew little things like that- it had been entirely on the graces of their co-inhabitants that they kept things lit, and they used artificial light sparsely even still. He could still remember the time when Ayala had finally asked why theywere so busy improving everything except the lights- the look on her face when she learned the score was priceless. One of the few times she was something other than б░sternб▒ or б░broodingб▒ for as long as heбпd known her. James pondered for a moment if he should bring Ayala along, but for all of her frustration at losing power, she seemed all too responsible to reject the aid of the guy who obliterated the Kaenid- not unlike himself. Pragmatic. Broken.

    He went from room to room, collecting all of the good little girls and boys in the night. He skipped the children, of course- Gen only needed time to turn them into soldiers. No, he went around and gathered all of the people who still retained a shred of dignity. They woke one by one, running silent sorties in the night, б░stealingб▒ supplies and food and weapons. If they paused to think, they might have noticed that there was an unusual and total absence of guards, but they didnбпt pause. They didnбпt so much as slow, hustling and bustling at Jamesбп command. It was a good feeling, one he had quite honestly missed. Control. He hadnбпt known how thoroughly the intoxicating elixir had sunken its claws until they were ripped free, along with part of him. It was all back now, though, and it felt a little bit like damnation and a lot like ecstasy.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    They gathered outside the fort. It was the best night raid he could have hoped for, even if it was a farce. Not one recruit rejected his appeals, and not one unfortunate bystander was woken up in the night. He was impressed. The people here would be leaving behind sisters and brothers, friends and lovers, simply because he told them it had to be done, that it was necessary. They didnбпt question or not his decision was the best- his decisions were fair and just in comparison to the Tyrantбпs, werenбпt they? Why not listen?

    He had struggled to come up with a snappy title for their resident teenage menace. Everyone needed a bad guy, and throughout history, you needed a snappy title for them. He had taken note of it long before heбпd been taken. If you could be neatly dropped into a category that was easy to laugh at or hate, then you were dead meat. The most conscientious and reasonable of people would flip to piranhas at the drop of a slogan. The only name that seemed to stick to Gen was боThe Tyrantбп, and frankly, it wasnбпt impressive. Sure, it contrasted боThe Generalбп nicely, but he felt like even боCao Caoбп was better. Still, you couldnбпt sell a nickname to someone if they couldnбпt intuit the meaning, and hardly anyone knew what the hell a б░Cao Caoб▒ was. James himself still wasnбпt quite sure, but he had to appreciate the nameбпs affects regardless.

    They were all supposedly gathered here to resist the Tyrant. In reality, they were running in the complete opposite direction, and if he could manage it, theyбпd never stop running. The first few steps were the hardest part- it would gather steam from there. He stood gallantly in front of them, trying to ignore the fact his scraggly beard and facial hair was really messing with his боclean-cut rebelбп motif. б░Weбпve got to get out of here, and fast,б▒ he said, flourishing a little for emphasis.

    б░Where would we go?б▒ a confused voice asked.

    Damn. To be completely honest, he wasnбпt quite sure either. On the other hand, he had a pretty good idea. б░Down, of course,б▒ he said, hoping he sounded confident. Judging by the way the crowd shuffled, he hadnбпt quite sold it. He thought back, and thought hard. How would Mister Moses handle this?

    б░He wants us to think thereбпs no way out. A magician canбпt hide all his tricks, though,б▒ he continued. б░There were huge tunnels down there. A way out. How do you think so many Goblins popped up from nowhere, that army we saw crowd out the last of the Lizards?б▒

    б░Yeah, but they could have just been hiding in the city!б▒ a voice objected. They were a little too chipper for the night, and a little too rigorous. Honestly, he had no real way to object. So he didnбпt. He ignored the question and turned around, slowly walking away. б░If you want to try your luck with the Tyrant-б░ the crowd bristled with that. Their vitriol was already starting to get quite focused- б░but Iбпm going to get out of here, before itбпs too late.б▒ He walked, and walked.

    He could hear the pitter-patter of the horde as they trailed after him. He couldnбпt turn- indecision would ruin the illusion. Still, he had to smile. People would follow you off a cliff if you made it look fashionable enough. In this case, he hoped that was true in the most literal sense. Even by the time they made it to the giant pit, people began to falter. The regular drum-beat of sandals on grass turned into a nervous, arrhythmic stomping by the time he made it to the end. Finally, he turned, posturing himself to put a foot down over the edge.

    James peaked a glance up at the crowd as he began his descent. No one was missing, which was good- if anyone ratted them out, they were all fucked. Forgiving or ignoring traitors tended to undermine a dictatorбпs cred, and Gen would have to go for plan B- a proper purge, quite possibly including James himself. It was a risk he had to take, but so far, things were looking good.

    He nearly panicked when he realized he was going to be descending a cliff in the dark. It hadnбпt really dawned on him until he realized that the only reason he hadnбпt fallen to his death was that most of the top of the cliff was lined with grasps and holds, along with various other climbing aides. As he descended further, his legs kicked air, and he very nearly let himself go. He gripped close to the wall, thoroughly spooked, and stopped. None of the Flock had caught up to him, even the true believers who had entered the descent at nearly the same time. Apparently, they werenбпt dumb enough to go full speed at night time. Oops. Jamesбп bravado (stupidity) seemingly convinced the whole group, and shadows clustered along the wall, carefully helping each-other descend.

    He struggled to think of a safe way to get further down. No amount of proverbial head-scratching seemed to help, and the rest grew ever nearer. He had a spark on inspiration- cats. Cats could see in the dark, couldnбпt they? He strained to remember how they did it, pumping mana to his eyes. At first it seemed a little better, but then his sight went pitch black. James scrambled to fix it, shifting all of his internal mana back to the inner ear, and he kept trying to remember basic anatomy. It took an uncomfortable amount of time, but finally, he remembered the bit he needed- the Retina. More specifically, the rods that lined it. As vague and stupid as that thought was? It worked. He couldnбпt see nearly as well as the day, but even in the dim light of the waning moon, he could at least make out the cliff-face.

    б░Are you okay?б▒ Jim asked, looking intently at him. He had caught up, neck and neck with his position- but not a step further. James quickly nodded, grunting. He called up, loud enough to be audible to everyone nearby. Risky, but given the circumstances, necessary. б░Focus mana to yourбн eye rods? Retina rod cells. Night vision,б▒ he spluttered, desperately trying to convey what he meant. The crowdsбп speed ebbed and flowed, but thankfully, they began to move- faster than before. More confidently. Jim, for his part, went from боperplexedбп to боrelievedбп. They were in business.

    James restarted his descent, now far too aware of how high they still were. Heбпd wager it was at least forty stories up, and that was scary, one way or another. He renewed his pace, hurried descending. He contemplated the contents of the conversation of that evening a while ago, digging for the info he might need, and simply reminiscing.

    б░бнlook for a sign,б▒ Gen said. б░Itбпll be there.б▒ James shrugged. б░What kind?б▒ he asked. Gen chuckled and smiled, a refreshing smile for someone who had been juggling боdepressedбп and боresoluteбп for the past twenty minutes. б░Youбпll know,б▒ he said, and James suddenly had a bad feelingбн

    б░Wouldnбпt it be easy to just walk out?б▒ He asked, curious. Gen shook his head, sadly. б░Iбпm afraid those bridges are going to have to go. Whoever set the city up was impressively theatric, but frankly, theyбпre worthless. I need to redo the whole city plan,б▒ he said, б░Iбпd like to do someбн explosive redecoration?б▒ James laughed, and then chuckled, and then froze. б░Youбпre serious!?б▒ He asked, incredulously. Gen just held a finger to his mouth, pointing gingerly towards the door with his hookбн

    б░Why didnбпt we just make our own city?б▒ He asked. It had been a burning question in his mind, and it seemed quite important. Sure, the manpower and walls were nice, but it was a huge stroke of luck that he had even got control of the Goblins, let alone the Gomen. From how he told the story, there was still no guarantee he wouldnбпt get put on the chopping block. Gen smiled gently. б░Donбпt you know, James? Thereбпs some romance in stealing Constantinople.б▒ He shrugged, excessively nonchalant. James reached across the table and just bopped him on the head. Gen rubbed at the bump. б░What?б▒ He asked, offendedбн

    The long haul down seemed to fly by. James quite hoped that wasnбпt because he had let go of the cliff while mid-flashback, but thankfully, autopilot had escorted him safely to the bottom. No one else seemed to have fallen, either, judging by the fact that the blood was just crusty and not fresh. He got his bearings and strode forth, turning to address the group that was reforming at the base of the pit. б░Just a bit further,б▒ he said, consoling. The mob seemed relieved to be done with that bit of their valiant escape, and as vacuous as his words were, they took solace in the idea that the worst was over. He didnбпt know how to tell them that they might meander through dark tunnels for days, but perhaps it was better left unsaid.

    The base of the abyss was largely flat and divided. On one side- fort side- there were no caves. The opposite wall, however, was riddled with them. He wasnбпt sure if it was necessarily safe to take out so much stone and dirt- maybe the hill would be ten feet shorter next time they saw it. He quite hoped it could wait until they escaped, though. He half-walked, half-ran to the tunnels, letting some urgency enter his steps. It had the desired effect. The others ran forth, crowding around him and following closely. James needed to find a sign, and if the crowd realized the Tyrant had guided them out, it may have had some unpleasant effects to their psyche and his own well-being. Not even traitors liked traitors, especially if that traitor was in fact betraying the traitors.

    Thankfully, it didnбпt take long to find the боsignбп. It was much harder to keep himself from giggling and/or swearing at the stupid kid they were running from. He had scanned each cave-mouth, and sure enough, something had been carved into the roof of one. It was shaped kind of like a ribbon, sort of oval that hada V-shaped tail appended to it. He hadnбпt even known what it was until after his abduction. In times long past, the Christians had used it as a secret sign to identify each-other, although most modern Mid-West sort probably wouldnбпt recognize it. He was left curious as to how Gen had known it, but considering the guyбпs background in Rome, he had some guesses. Mister Moses followed the fish, leading the rebels deep into the dark cave.

    It was a long walk, but a safe one. Nothing unusual or dangerous happened in the darkness, other than the usual toe-stubbing and jostling that happens with crowded places. They just walked and walked, a tunnel that never seemed to end. Finally, they came to a боYбп intersection, lit by a single candle on a tiny stone candelabra, and James had to decide which way to go once more. Sure enough, the боsignбп was there, off to the right.

    б░How do you know which way to go?б▒ a nervous voice asked. The poor soul seemed to be getting more nervous now that they had thoroughly entrenched themselves in the caves. What if the Goblins found them? Would they be allowed back? The answer was no, but James focused on the original question. б░I just feel it, man,б▒ he said, channeling his best боcharismatic leaderбп attitude. It came across more like боstoner wannabeeбп, but one way or another, it had the desired effect. The crowd still followed, trailing after their errant Shepherd. He snagged the candle, and noted excitedly the gentle incline of the tunnel, until finally, they were free. It opened into a strange боtrap-doorбп sort of opening, normally covered in a woven quilt of matter that approximated the grassy forest floor. They were free.

    There was a Home for Mankind, and in their (supposed) "disgust", they had left it behind to rot- and damn the consequences. Runaways, strays, destined to struggle to wander and fight for a new civilization, one without any of the brutal efficiency they had experienced first-hand. James honestly wouldnбпt have it any other way. Sure, despite the fact his Flock was effectively боmisfitsбп who couldnбпt handle the logic of the New World, it was still his Flock, and he was leading it out to pasture. In some ways, it was almost like a homecoming, all on its own. They stood under the night sky, eagerly awaiting his next боsuggestionбп (order) and completely certain he would still somehow make them freer in the process- regardless of if that was even possible. James didnбпt any of that, though. Gen had plans that needed enacting. James had plans of his own, tasks he had been neglecting, and a role that only he could fill.

    Mister Moses was back in action.

 026: Invitation.

    Running through the Walled City was always a satisfying experience. It was quite unlike any city of the Old, a beautiful mixture of modern technology and primitive sensibilities. I could turn a corner and run and find a Brutalist high-rise, a concrete and militaristic six-story apartment complex, or I could pass a bend and find the quaintest of stone shacks, just simple one-and-a-half structures meant to hold a family and naught more, as though it was ripped straight from the 12<sup>th</sup> century. I really wish I could share that with you all, and especially in more detail, but my focus is torn.

    While I quite enjoy running through the city, if only for the view, it isnбпt quite so fun to be chased. The tenants of the City of Man do not take kindly to troublemakers, and by default, I qualify. I could sit on a bench and mind my own business and theyбпd still probably start trying to lock me up, but to be absolutely fair, I probably deserved it. Iбпm not a real criminal, but Iбпm also not useful, and the City of Man only has useful people. The General will tolerate lay-abouts no more than deserters, and while a deserter would no doubt be executed on sight, Iбпm hardly treated any differently.

    My cardio had improved significantly over the course of the six months Iбпve been in the city, so at least that was a silver lining. As the sole survivor of my Pod, they had been quite perplexed at how such a useless girl had made it on her own for so long, and then exceptionally interested at the fact I could not be Named, in the conventional sense. Really, it was amazing that so many intelligent people in one place couldnбпt figure out what little old me intuited. Iбпm pretty sure you would think they never read. Sure, it was out of fashion, but anyone would be absolutely hosed if they tried to interpret an entirely new world with a realistic and grounded perspective.

    My passion had been old books, the infinite archive of literature that spanned centuries. The advent of the Web had enshrined these early renditions so thoroughly that even modern readers could access them, all those years later. In the New World, I was far more passionate about finding some free time and places without pointy spears and angry faces, but that was hardly by choice. If it were up to me, Iбпd still be back home, digging for the next buried gem.

    The goblins were by far the most impressive of my pursuers. Even as I tore through Third Street towards the nearest abyss ramp, little green figures filed into the alley. They were unshakeable and unflappable, and the only reason I wasnбпt dead, in jail, or б░reformedб▒ was that the creatures didnбпt actually feel like catching me. They put on a good show, but frankly, they probably just enjoyed the practice. It was like a cat toying with its prey, but perhaps a bit more practical- anything else caught by a Goblin would be promptly torn to shreds. I hadnбпt been there to witness боPivot Dayбп, so affectionately named, but witnessing tiny examplesof their cruelty was more than enough to set me on edge. For example, it was common knowledge in the city as to why birds no longer bothered to fly overhead. The animals of the New World could communicate without exception, a higher sort of beast, and perhaps one of the goblinsбп unfortunate meals had actually escaped. No doubt, they were a hero to their kind, heralded in endless song (miles and miles away from our quaint city).

    My running, the goblinsбп clattering, and the gentle echoes of life in the cityбпs square were about the only sounds. The little green people moved slowly forward, taunting me to try and play боRed Roverбп. Instead, I dipped into an alley. Of course, more goblins were everywhere, looking down at me from far-above rooftops and blocking the path forward. I paused to wave, smiling, and stopped for a moment. I wasnбпt trying to use the alley to escape, not at all. The goblins encroached on me from the alley, and I could hear the little pitters and patters of their rooftop kin crawling down from above. It was quite eerie, having so many eyes on you. They had no doubt practiced being creepy as fuck to a T- apparently, they were all quaint little traders and farmers before Pivot Day, even if they were the defacto boogie-men now. The General had a flare for the dramatic, and no doubt he had instructed them to get creepier.

    I just stood there, waiting. Finally, I could hear the army in the main roadбпs steps. I turned around quickly, bracing myself and entering a sprint. I blasted from that corner, ignoring the nasty боthunkбп of the rooftop goblins dropping down on the spot I had been hiding in moments before, and barreled through the main group. They were much less prepared, less wary. I still had to free my leg from oneбпs grasp, their little claws digging nasty red marks into my calf, but it was all in all the safest way to get free. Ignoring the wet feeling of my leg, I completed my mad dash and turned down the ramp. It was scarily steep, and it headed into the deep pit that was the abyss, but it made me feel a bit more at home already. It was much easier to hide in the tunnels than it was in the city above, after all, so I had spent quite a lot of time down there.

    The goblins applauded after me, as though one hadnбпt probably left permanent scars on my leg just a moment before, and they laughed and hollered as I ran. They must have enjoyed this escape, and judging by how fascinated they were, it wouldnбпt work again. One more trick down the drain, fuck. The ramp was thankfully unoccupied, even absent of the usual foot-traffic that traveled between the боmidway pointбп. Whether they were carrying goods to the Fort or fancy new products back to the rest of the city, there were usually some people at work. The Trader had become quite popular since боbusinessбп and боmerchantingбп were essentially nonexistent in the New World. Iбпve met at least four боThe Traderбпs since I started my commute. Really, times like those, I wish I could use names. б░Hey, Trader and Trader!б▒ didnбпt ingratiate yourself to either, and any attempt I make to change it to something more recognizable (even Trader 1 or Trader 2) ended in excruciating pain.

    My favorite people to talk to are the ones who you couldnбпt mistake. Sure, half of them had left the city before I even arrived, but most of the ones who were here were pretty cool, even if they had serious issues. Most was the operative word, though, and as the ramp bottomed out and I jogged into the nearest tunnel, I was stopped in my tracks by a specific unique individual who I most certainly didnбпt want to see.

    The man smiled, holding his arms wide. The inviting gesture did basically nothing to hide his menace. A scar ran down his left cheek and up to his eye, a nasty reminder of past fights. His outfit screamed боbad dudeбп, with an excessive, patchwork leather greatcoat (for боprotectionбп), a regal and wooly shirt that did nothing to hide his gangling form, and carefully fitted pants made of some creaturesбп tan and blotchy hide, and while they looked generally normal (if a bit old-fashioned), I canбпt help but think theyбпre the scariest part, since I know where he got that material from. Since the pants had been cured, it made it look more like real leather, which frankly made it worse. All around his body were scabbards, loading him down with a truly excessive amount of weaponry. It was a bad habit, for sure, but he apparently got used to it. Of course, last but not least, the manбпs hook. It was hard to look warm and sociable when you were waving about a huge metal hook. б░Say my name,б▒ he said, still beaming.

    б░The Generalб▒, I reply, gently sidling back towards the ramp.

    б░You know what I mean,б▒ he said, letting his eyes do all the talking. They were sharp, not at all the eyes of someone who was out to make friends.

    б░And you know that I canбпt,б▒ I growl, hoping to keep him talking. If I got a head-start, there was at least a chance I could get away.

    б░Relax, there,б▒ He said, letting his arms hang at his side. He looked strangely offended, smile turning into a tight frown. б░Do you really think you could get away?б▒ He asked.

    I stopped doing pretty much everything, including breathing. I spluttered for a second, and the Generalбпs smile returned. Really, my odds of getting away were nil to zilch, and if I did, the manhunt might start in earnest- so itбпd probably be better to just hear him out. б░What do you want?б▒

    He strode forwards a few times, covering practically the entire distance in just a few steps. The incongruity of it set my head to spinning. Magic was hell for logic-oriented thinkers, and even as abstract as I could get, it still took my brain for a ride every so often. You wouldnбпt believe how good the cityfolk were at bending the rules even if I really explained it all. If they were just a little better at playing within them, weбпd be a lot further along than we are now, but I could still appreciate the crazy shit the Imposter and her cronies could come up with.

    б░Well, I donбпt think we ever finished our chat,б▒ he said, as matter-of-fact as he could muster. I scoffed at that. б░If you want to turn me into a test subject, at least be honest.б▒ I retorted, turning my head to the side. He looked appreciably stricken (my sass meters must have been off the charts), and for a moment, I could see the boy underneath the fa?ade. For all of his projection and power, he was still just some guy my age. It went away as fast as it came, though, and the chuckle that followed was uncomfortable.

    б░I think we could arrange a meeting with Merrilyn,б▒ he said, emphasizing the боarrangeбп, б░but I just need to get you to talk with me for a bit longer. To answer my questions, or at least some of the more important ones.б▒ I shuddered, thinking back to the last боchatбп, questions that couldnбпt be answered, but ones that he insisted on. What was her past? Where did the rest of her Pod go? Why did I start trembling and get skittish whenever anyone talked about it? Really, if anyone was to blame for me going AWOL, it was those idiots for not taking the hint.

    б░Unless you get some better questions, the only answer youбпre getting out of me is where you should go shove-б░ I said angrily, but before I could even get to the боinsulting banterбп part, the Generalбпs features twisted with some genuine fury, and my voice caught in my throat. б░I have been quite patient enough with you. I didnбпt leave an entire race of people-eating lizards alone for as long as your stupid ass, and they were actually intimidating,б▒ he said, snarling out the last few words. Well, when he put it like that, I guess it seemed a bit more forgiving than I had thought. I held my hands high above my head, wearing my best боIбпm-so-shockedбп face, and the General stopped angrily stomping forward and hover-handing his blades. You should probably know that the General has had some б░anger issuesб▒ ever since he had a fight or two with his little girlfriend. On most people, relationship drama could look endearing or at least pitiable, but since this guy in particular could skewer half of the damn city before breaking a sweat, it didnбпt help him make any friends. Not that he needed friends, of course. He had daggers for that.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    б░Alright, alright, Iбпllбн try to answer your questions, at least.б▒ I said. б░Why do you need to know all of this other stuff, though?б▒ The Generalбпs rage disappeared like sand in the wind. One moment, it was all I could see, and the next, it had been swept away into the blue sky. The little smile he gave me was a bit uncomfortable, though. The anger had felt far more genuine. б░We wanted to understand more about your situation before attempting to replicate the conditions you were in, thatбпs all,б▒ he said. I stared at him blankly. I had assumed it was at least to check if I had murdered everybody- for the record, I didnбпt, or at least as far as youбпre concerned I didnбпt- but they were really just trying to get a little more info? б░Thatбпs stupid,б▒ I said, dumbfounded.

    He shrugged. б░Say my name,б▒ he retorted, monotone. б░I canбпt- oh.б▒, I stuttered out. They wanted to know as much as possible to prevent unfortunate accidents from occurring. Sure, not being able to say names sucked, but what if they lost control of their lungs, or had a leg taken, or were forced to walk in боfigure-8бпs whenever humanly possible. It kind of made sense, especially when she had enumerated how risky it could be to follow in her footsteps. Whoops.

    б░If thatбпs all, I could have just explained more about the process,б▒ I said. Honestly, in retrospect, I should have been a little more reluctant to just run off, but the pain and fear had felt a lot fresher at the time.

    б░Yeah. You could have. Now cough up the tragic backstory, please,б▒ the General replied, a genuine smile crossing his face. б░Youбпve got me curious.б▒

    б░If you just want to know more about magic, I can just-б░ I said, but he cut me off. б░Youбпre not getting away with six months of obstructing Humankindбпs progress and denying me a good story,б▒ he said. I huffed, crossing my arms. б░This has less to do with the wellbeing of the city and a lot more to do with payback.б▒

    He nodded vigorously. б░Yup. Cough it up,б▒ he said. I ran through excuses in my mind, hoping to find a way to delay, at the least. б░Itбпs a long story,б▒ I said, б░shouldnбпt we find somewhere to relax?б▒

    The General pointed his hands in either direction. Well, his hand and his menacing hook in either direction. Two benches set parallel to each-other, taunting me. I hadnбпt even seen them coming in, how had they gotten there? On a hunch, I looked up at the tunnel roof- to see no less than four goblins just hanging about. One of them let go of one of the ceiling-spikes he was hanging on to give me a thumbs-up, while the others pouted and tried to hide the bags of little baubles they had on-hand, including and not limited to: snacks, drinks, a bucket and curtain that looked uncomfortably similar to a боportable bathroomбп set, and much more. The General came prepared. He laughed, waving up at the goblins, and the боthumbs-upбп goblin saluted. He walked off to sit on a bench, pointing to the one opposite. I groaned, taking a seat.

    б░Well,б▒ I said, б░What should I talk about first?б▒ I asked. He mulled it over, holding the crook of his hook to his chin as though deep in thought. б░Letбпs start with the Pod,б▒ he said. I nearly choked. б░Pretend I never asked. Letбпs start with life since the Pod. Work our way back,б▒ I said, practically begging. He looked perplexed. б░Whatбпs so interesting about your truancy?б▒ He asked. I shrugged. б░Do you even know my title?б▒ I asked.

    б░You canбпt tell us,б▒ he said, probing. б░Itбпs not a trick question,б▒ I laughed out, б░Youбпre the General.б▒ He looked vaguely shocked. б░Thatбпs a name, isnбпt it?б▒ He said, incredulous. I shook my head. б░You guys havenбпt figured it out yet? Good lord, if anyone had a reason to guess their title, it was you.б▒ I replied. He pondered over that for a moment. б░I thought I was just being dramatic, honestly. Can you call me Gen, then? Or another боTitleбп that fits? боThe Warriorбп, perhaps?б▒ I shook my head. б░For some people, it seems to be a bit moreбн fluid, but youбпre very much The General. If I try to call you the Ty-б░ before I even finished the sentence, I doubled over, twitching. It was excruciating, pain like none youбпve ever felt. Never break your vows, kids.

    б░Iбпll forgive you for trying to call me that,б▒ the General growled, but the little storm blew over and his curiosity pulled him back into a chipper mood. That, or he simply wasnбпt as offended as I thought. б░but that raises a pretty big question about our race as a whole. Why do we have these б░Titlesб▒? Names have always been powerful,б▒ he mumbled, thinking over everything he had learned about Old World mysticism. б░This seems pretty new. Are they like боjob titlesбп, or are they descriptive? Are all titles in that format?б▒ He asked, hardly waiting for me to pull my sorry ass off the floor.

    б░I have no idea,б▒ I said, б░but theyбпre something other than a Name, or even a боnick-nameбп. I can hardly think about names, let alone speak them, but these titles have no such issue.б▒ He held up a hand. б░If you canбпt think about nicknames, what about боBig Gregбп?б▒ He asked, and I shuddered.

    б░You just saw what happens to me,б▒ I said. He put on an unnerving pair of puppy-dog eyes that were ill-suited to his typical demeanor, telling me to б░just try it. Gregбпs not with us anymore. Itбпs important.б▒ I sighed. б░Big Greg,б▒ I said, tensing with every syllable. Nothing happened. б░This raises quite a few questions about how universal yourбн vow? The vow was.б▒ He said, bobbing his head sagely.

    б░How can it tell that you arenбпt talking about Gregory, or that heбпs dead?б▒ He asked. I shrugged, as surprised as he was. б░Itбпs magic, man. I donбпt have to explain shit.б▒ That seemed to actually be a pretty convincing argument, and he leaned back in his bench, placated.

    б░That''s why my time after the Pod is interesting,б▒ I said, б░but we haven''t even got to the fun part yet.б▒ He looked excited at the prospect of more, eagerto unveil all the secrets magic holds. б░Does it have to do with your title?б▒ He asked. б░Bingo,б▒ I said. б░and if I explain a bit about my present and maybe my time in the Old World, youбпll probably understand боthe Podбп scenario better,б▒ I said. It was true enough, and he bought it. б░Iбпll bite,б▒ he said. б░What is it?б▒

    б░I used to be боThe Libraryбп, and to some extent, I must still be. It doesnбпt hurt to say,б▒ I said. He nodded vigorously. б░So, there can be more than one Title,б▒ he interrupted, and I hushed him gently. He took it surprisingly well for de-facto leader of the New World.

    б░In many ways, I sacrificed боThe Libraryбп for my new title. I couldnбпt even pick out characters in books anymore, not that we have any to read.б▒ I continued, emphasizing that last bit. The bastards could at least set up a Printing Press, if not the Net. б░Now? Iбпm just the Conduit.б▒

    The Generalбпs hook shot up into the air, like a schoolchild hoping to be called on. б░What?б▒ I ask, trying not to laugh. б░The Library I get, but the Conduit? What does that even mean?б▒ He asked, confused.

    I smiled. б░Good fucking question. I wasnбпt sure for a good while, but whenever important things happen, Iбн open. Like that day in our Pod, and just today.б▒ The General sat straight up, suddenly guarded. б░What comes through?б▒ He asked. I laughed. б░Nothing like what youбпre thinking. Itбпs not mana, or monsters, or anything that would explain all those dead people. Well, not directly, at least.б▒

    б░What comes through?б▒ he asked, more intently. б░Fine, fine. I can feel people watching me,б▒ I said. He relaxed, just a bit. б░That could be someone watching you magically? We might want to get that checked. First stalker of the New World,б▒ he said, pondering. I shook my head. б░Itбпs not just watching. They''re all around me, looking and seeing and taking it all in. Sometimes, I can even hear them.б▒ He looked at me like I was crazy, which hurt.б░Why a боConduitбп, then?б▒ He asked, disbelief plain on his face. The jerk could at least try to pretend I wasnбпt off my rocker. I got enough funny looks in the Old World.

    б░When it happens and I let them through, I can let them in, listen to them,б▒ I said. б░I think different. People act different. The world shifts around me, like I''m filling it up,б▒ I point at my forehead, emphasizing. б░and I think theyбпre getting something out of it. This is some reality-bending shit, and Iбпm connected to somewhere.б▒ He nodded gently, mulling through my words. He sure was skeptical for a guy with magical Steroids, wasnбпt he? You believe me, donбпt you? Although, if you arenбпt real, itбпd be kind of dumb to ask. How can I tell the differences between the voices I conjure and voices from the beyond? What if I really was having a break, a relapse? It wasnбпt like the New World had medicine, after all. Sure, theyбпd started on the real basic stuff, but those were decades off. What if I really had imagined it all? Was I talking to the General at all? Why would he come down to meet me? Was there a New World? It was all so fantastical, like something I had imagined in a fever-dream.

    It took me a moment to realize that the warm feeling on my forehead was the Generalбпs hand. I felt a bit embarrassed, pushing it away. б░What are you doing, again?б▒ I asked. б░You werenбпt responding,б▒ he said. He backed off, and I realized I had tipped over. Thankfully, I had fallen back onto the bench and not off onto the rough floor of the tunnel. б░I think I just had a panic attack,б▒ I said, coughing a bit.

    б░You were out for a minute there,б▒ he said. б░You never got to боwhereбп youбпre connected to.б▒ I shuddered. б░You believe me?б▒ I asked, trembling. I had been told I was insane, or just plain lying, for far less. The General just nodded. He actually believed me. The tears welled in my eyes, and as much as I wanted to fight them off, I just couldnбпt. There was a person on this New World who might look at me like a normal human being, or at least as something other than a lab-rat. Sure, it was the leader-slash-dictator of the not-so-free world, but that was fine. The people out there who have been ignored and left in the dirt know exactly how I feel, Iбпm sure. I stumbled from the bench, hugging the stupid boy. He struggled for a moment, awkward overtaking stoic or majestic, and he just settled on stroking my back. With his hook. I almost felt bad for the Adventurer having to deal with him.

    б░I leave you alone for a few minutes and you elope with some skank?б▒ An angry voice called from the tunnel mouth. Speak of the Devil, the General nearly flung me from his embrace, settling on боletting me down to the floor gentlyбп. I had nearly finished my little dramatic moment, but I decided that it was far less likely that I got skewered if I was too busy crying to look like a fair target. б░You know itбпs not like that,б▒ the General said, walking towards the voice. The Adventure was cast under the light, and she stood proud in its rays. Her posture was that of a furious wife, legs shoulder-width apart and arms crossed so tightly that it could probably crush bone if you even tried to pull them apart.

    She huffed. б░I bet you donбпt even know her name,б▒ she said, and the steel in her voice made me shudder. Hopefully the General is tactful enough to- the guy laughed. The General laughed at her, and nodded. б░I have no idea what her name is, thatбпs the problem,б▒ he said, like it was the funniest joke in the world. The Adventurer was pissed, and she swept her head between the two of us. In the dim light, she couldnбпt make out the harlot (me) who stole her man, and she was puzzled. б░Whatбпs so funny, huh?б▒ She asked. To my surprise, she actually seemed less pissed. I probably would have just murdered the guy, myself.

    б░Itбпs that girl,б▒ he said, pointing at me. б░Sheбпs the Conduit, and thatбпs about all we can call her,б▒ he said. Realization dawned on her face, and she relaxed- just a bit. б░Why was she all over you like that?б▒ She asked, now more curious than jealous. She strode forward, entering the dim light of the tunnel. I could make out her features better. She was a beautiful girl, on the verge of true womanhood. She was perfectly lean, and though her back was actually just a bit misshapen, no one would notice or care. Theyбпd probably be too busy looking at her butt or perfectly toned legs to take note of the bump on her lumbar, honestly. Relaxed, she looked much younger, dropping even the slightest bit of wifeliness. Between her natural assets and her fitness, I bet she would have been the hot item back home. It was rare for anyone to think about romance in the New World, though, especially since all sorts of social dynamics were still out of whack.

    He shrugged. б░I believe she really has a link to somewhere, and I told her so. She, uh, broke down.б▒ I nodded as best I could. At some point, my exaggerated hysterics had become all too real again, and I struggled to reign it back in. б░A link to where? Iбпm going to need catching up,б▒ the beautiful girl asked, suddenly just as intrigued as the General had been. Ready for an Adventure. Rumor said she had been raring for one for ages, since the General had been sweeping any and all disasters under the rug with astonishing efficiency.

    б░Iбнб▒ I choked out, б░I think it goes to back home.б▒ The two of them stood there, dumbfounded. I donбпt think they had expected that in their wildest dreams. A connection to Earth, the real one, the place they had all been stolen from. The implications were insane, and I felt insane for even implying it.

    Are you out there?

 027: Story time!

    б░Thereбпs got to be something else we can call you,б▒ Kat declared. She got caught up on the situation pretty quickly, and to the nameless girlбпs dismay, she was just as intent on meddling in her affairs as Gen was. The girl shook her head emphatically. б░Itбпs боthat oneбп or боThe Conduitбп or nothing at all.б▒

    б░Iбпve already got to deal with him,б▒ Kat huffed, pointing at a certain General-obsessed dictator, б░and now thereбпs another one? Maybe we could just try common names until we got to yours, and just call you that.б▒

    Blood drained from the nameless girlбпs face almost instantly. б░Itбпs one thing to break a vow,б▒ she said, panicked, б░itбпs a whole different thing to cheat. I donбпt know what would happen to me, but it couldnбпt be pleasant.б▒

    Kat groaned. б░Conduit it is, then. I need to change my hobby from боrunningбп to боcollecting basket-casesбп, clearly itбпs my one true calling.б▒ She said, resignation oozing into her voice. б░Love you too,б▒ Gen crooned, and she laughed. The Conduit looked between the two, fascinated and a great deal more relaxed now that the focus was off herself. Clearly, even if she trusted the General, she still feared him. She probably feared Kat too, by proxy and due to her reputation. You donбпt usually get to see the things that go bump in the night flirting, after-all.

    б░Alright, alright,б▒ Kat said, б░Weбпve some more important things to talk about, anyway.б▒ She beckoned gently at the nameless girl, giving her the stage. б░Weбпve got the present down, so what about the past?б▒

    The Conduit shrank back in her seat. б░Itбпs a little embarrassing, but I got kind of famous,б▒ she said, almost shyly. б░Famous for what?б▒ Kat asked. б░Well, Iбпve always heard боvoicesбп, and the doctors couldnбпt know that magic shenanigans were afoot, so-б░ She replied, but Kat cut her off, excitement and realization lighting up the girlбпs features.

    б░Youбпre the crazy one!б▒ She exclaimed, almost before realizing that not only was that quite rude, but also possibly fatal. б░Oops.б▒ The nameless girl looked hurt, and more importantly afraid, but nothing happened. There was a long, awkward paused, and she relaxed. б░Thanks, Adventurer, now Iбпm боThe Crazyбпб▒ she said, exasperated. б░The what?б▒ Gen asked. He was perplexed, looking between the two of them. Kat groaned. б░You donбпt even know about that? I know you didnбпt get out much, but sheбпs in every modern Psychology lecture ever.б▒

    He shrugged. б░Humor me,б▒ he said, and Kat obliged, much to the Conduitбпs dismay. б░Thereбпs at least three paradoxes named after her by now, since the first studies were conducted. Story goes that she was discovered early in life by the tests, and she underwent rigorous analysis.б▒ The nameless girl looked increasingly uncomfortable with every word, until she finally cut off Kat with a cough. б░The important bit is that they diagnosed me with Schizophrenia, the good old-fashioned way, but they couldnбпt find any traces of it- or proof that I was faking it. The medication didnбпt even work.б▒ Gen eyed her critically. б░You know, I think I bought the боvoices in your headбп thing a little more when you werenбпt the last Schizophrenic on Earth,б▒ he said, virtually monotone.

    She scrunched up her face. б░They were quiet for the first time when I got to this world,б▒ she said, б░and it all made sense. Itбпs magic, man. It wasnбпt until the floodgates opened that they came rushing back.б▒ The Conduitбпs frustration was tempered with a sudden bout of disappointment at that. б░I wasnбпt happy to get it back, but it did save my life,б▒ she concluded.

    Her audience was especially interested now, likely for different reasons. Kat was probably most interested in the idea of a number of outstanding scientific paradoxes being explained by magic, while Gen seemed to key in on her last few words. б░How did it save your life?б▒ The General asked, intent. The nameless girl sighed. б░As much as Iбпd love to avoid reliving my time in the new world, I guess Iбпve got to do it at some point. The fact the боvoicesбп showed back up out of nowhere is bothering me, anyway.б▒ She steeled herself, diving into her tale.

    ___

    I blinked my eyes open, only to realize they were never shut. I was butt-naked in the dark of whatever confines I had found myself in, and the dirt wasnбпt the most comfortable seat. For a moment, I thought I had my very first psychological break and that I had hallucinated it all, but time passed gently with no sign of боwaking upбп. Indeed, pinching my cheek hardly did anything to wake me up. So, I sat there, confused and scared and alone- or so I thought. From the silence came rustling and noises in every direction, and suddenly there were 29 other people just as боin the darkбп as I was, literally and metaphorically. One man began to mumble and shout about how they боcouldnбпt take himбп, and how the боbossбп would be angry, and how he wouldnбпt be worth any money. It took three minutes of coaxing from others to get him calmed down enough to realize this was not, in fact, about his unsavory activities. Someone else woke up and just screamed his lungs out for almost a straight minute, only to finally come to terms with their crippling fear of the dark, having endured a sort of trial by fire. Quite a few other late-wakers were startled and panicked by the shrieks. Eventually, though, things grew calm. Silent, once more.

    I played it quiet and safe. Even with the way crime rates had waxed and waned, it was a generally bad idea to attract a bunch of strangerбпs attention in the nude. The closest I got to genuine socialization was quietly offering my name, which thankfully no one recognized. A certain relationship counselor had assumed complete control of our little group, and after a little meet-and-greeting, things seemed stable enough to get moving. As useless as боrelationship counselorбп was in their current situation, this woman was impressively competent, and she at least drove the group along. Almost everyone chipped in with ideas and suggestions, and eventually, they had formed a sort of organized unit, complete with a buddy system. Groping about in the dark for your боbuddyбп was awkward as all hell, but no one got lost. It turned out to be a really good idea around the time we started to find off-shoot tunnels, some of which were quite dangerous, at least while unlit. We were pretty clearly underground, but despite that, the surroundings were uncomfortably well equipped. An Artesian Well in one off-shoot, tens of buried plants, sprouts, and soft-dirt patches scattered through others. There was even one that seemed appropriate for when nature called. Whatever had dumped them down in the depths, it had made sure theyбпd live, at least for a while.

    Things went along smoothly. Tunnels were explored rapidly, and they extended the боbuddy systemбп to more of a triangular relationship, with a navigator and explorers dragging each-other about. The navigators spent a lot of time talking to each-other whenever the groups returned home, learning about new tunnels or sharing their own discoveries, while the explorers did whatever they could to make the space more livable. Despite how weird the situation was, it felt like the first time I was being treated like a normal human being. Part of a well-oiled machine, and not the odd gear out. The fact that the voices and strange impulses were gone helped, naturally. It was a strange sort of paradise, but it was the one I had.

    The sixth group disappeared. They had simply been lost, and no one could even find a trace. There was no way to know if they made it out, if they were in a distant tunnel, or if they had died, but they were gone for боa long timeбп. I struggled to think of when I had last talked to someone from the group, but units of time only really made sense when you had a clock or the sun, and our Pod was a long way off from access to either. At first, everyone seemed to just accept the change, but as time went on, things got more strained. Paranoia was a powerful thing, and while no one said it, we all knew deep in the back of our minds that the missing three people were murdered. In all the time we spent in the dark, we had never run into another prim and proper animal, so who else could have so thoroughly erased them? Every manhunt turned up empty, and finally, it was too much.

    Everyone split up with their groups, more or less. The split was something like six, three, three, three, so on and so forth. Everyone stuck with who they knew for sure couldnбпt have committed the crime- their боbuddiesбп, and whoever they were with frequently enough for their concerns to be assuaged. Iбпd read too many books where боsplitting up equals certain deathбп, but nothing happened for a good while. No one was hostile, but if we bumped into each-other, literally, we went the other way, like feuding neighbors. The first real change to that new боsystemбп was when the next group disappeared.

    Contrary to what I expected, for each of the little groups to get picked off, the next group to simply vanish were one of the larger groups of six. That set everyone into a tizzy- while it was hard to get a feel for who was and wasnбпt nearby, we still checked in every so often, and the big platoons were more or less hanging around in the base, but this group was gone. It didnбпt help that the relationship counselor that had kept us reasonably civil had been taken with them- she had been one of the two smaller groupsбп navigators before we stopped exploring and started panicking. With that, nowhere was safe. Paranoia escalated into panic, and we scattered deep in the caves. Someone started playing a constant боMarco, Poloбп game to keep everyone else at bay, and sure enough, soon everyone was on-board, echolocating all the potential murderers and running the other way.

    At that point, it was hard to say who had disappeared and who was simply deeper in the tunnels than ever before. No one knew one way or another, and that really drove home the fear. It was a terrible time, hours on end, constantly nervous that you were next, or convinced it had been боtoo longбп since you last heard anyone. We wandered, until at some point, our navigator spoke up. He was a shy boy, reluctant to even talk to other navigators, but he was pretty reliable, and endlessly polite. He was hardly out of middle-school, if that, and while he was just a kid, he had a solid memory- just right for a guide. б░We can breathe,б▒ he whispered. It was so sudden that the other explorer and I froze in our tracks, and as my thoughts desperately surged forward to catch up to his train of thought, he suddenly felt like the smartest person I had ever met. If we could breathe, then there was air, and if there was air then it came from somewhere, and the only way we could have so much air would be if there was a way out. That first realization stunned me, but the second one got me way harder. If there was a way out, then there was a way in. As the fear ramped up, we had left the idea of an external threat out in the dust. It was so obvious, but no one had stopped to think.

    The three of usjust stood there. I could feel new hope and mounting fear- perhaps the others had escaped to the surface and simply hadnбпt returned yet. Or, perhaps, there was something far worse than a serial killer roaming in the darkness. They started forth once more, the boy leading usback to the main боroomбп. Wechatted and walked like weused to, the constant pressure of paranoia being replaced by abstract fear. Counterintuitively, it was easier to relax with the threat of боsome monsterбп than just some other human. So, wesallied forth, with renewed vigor, and found light.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    My eyes burned, and for the first time in ages, I could see my own flesh. I had deteriorated in the dark just as a matter of malnutrition, practically all skin and bones, though that wasnбпt far from my bookish look from the Old World. My legs were more toned than I had ever managed before, contrasting my callused hands and weak arms. More importantly, I could see myself. The boy blushed desperately, and the other explorer was just as ecstatic as I was to have faculty of her eyes again. We beamed at each-other, heading towards the corner the dim light was cast around. It was a long walk, and each step brought our forms into view. We trekked forth, all too ready to forget the fact that this tunnel had never been bright before.

    I was the first to round the corner, and I had to whip around and push the other two back as quickly as I could. The light wasnбпt a way out, but a trap. The other explorer was surprised, looking at my eyes- which she could now see- for answers. I held a finger to my lips and pulled myself close to the wall, leaning around the corner, and there it was, just as it had been moments before. A plant twined the tunnel, digging deep into each surface as though it was part of the scenery. It was massive, and the digging tendrils were nearly a foot in diameter. Each was pock-marked with beautiful, luminescent buds, red flowers that emitted the light that was cast over them. If I hadnбпt known any better, Iбпd have probably went to pick one, if only for the sweet recess from the eternal dark I had been plunged into.

    Thankfully, or tragically, we were not the first group to stumble on the plant. Another group was cast in the red light, which did nothing to hide the crimson of their blood. The entire tunnel was coated in it, little splatters lining every speck of dirt and cropping of stone. The three had no doubt walked right up to the plant, ecstatic to find the light, only to learn that everything beautiful has its thorns- literally. The tendrils were silky smooth by sight, but several of them gyrated about the victimsбп bodies, moving with speed that no plant should have agency to possess. As they rubbed, thin lines of skin were torn away by nearly impossible to see nettles that tugged at anything rubbing them the wrong way. I watched in morbid fascination, silent as I could be- but the poor navigator couldnбпt help but let out one terrified sob. He caught himself, hoping the plant couldnбпt hear. It kept on боeatingбп the last group of victims for a while and the other explorer pulled the boy away, trying to comfort him. I pulled back for a moment, trying to help, but he got himself together pretty quick. When I leaned back over to catch up on the morbid display, the plant was gone, leaving only a hole in the wall that hadnбпt, at least as far as I knew, been there before. Dim light came through the hole, but it was fading with every moment, leaving behind only blood and darkness. Thankfully, the blood was quickly masked by the darkness, returning us to the cold and familiar eternal night we had been stumbling through for so long.

    I watched all return to black, trained on the tunnel the terrible plant had disappeared into, along with the corpses. I guessed that explained that mystery. To my surprise, I didnбпt feel much more afraid now than I had before. Apparently, pants-shittingly terrifying monsters werenбпt so scary if you had no pants. That was around the time the voices returned. They were whispering at first, and for a moment, I thought it was the other two trying to get my attention, but they werenбпt saying anything at all- we had all been shocked silent. The whispering grew to a roar, and each word wore at my mind, warring choruses fighting to get my attention. On Earth, it had been gibberish and strange phrases, but here it was perfectly clear. Each group of voices harmonized, and when they formed a strong enough group, they used the opportunity to scream all sorts of things. Some told me to run, while others simply shouted questions I could never answer- why wasnбпt I panicking, what was the giant plant monster, or where this was all taking place. At the time, I actually thought the voices really were just a manifestation of the terror I wasnбпt really feeling. When the discordant, warring choirs unified into a chorus of б░Run, now!б▒, my body moved on its own. I ran, leaving behind the rest of my group in the dark. I thought to call out, to get their attention, but before I could say anything, a noise distracted me. It was like a blender in the distance, a gentle grinding of something. I realized too late that the only thing that could make a sound like that in the caves we were in would be the subterranean plant, and I could only just bite back my voice as dozens of tendrils shot from the wall. They wound together on either side of my unfortunate partners and slammed them back against the wall. The beautiful light from the plantбпs buds were great for looking at the terror in their eyes as they died, to see the odd angle their backs were bent in as it crushed them to the wall. The plantбпs main боbudбп, presumably where the rest of the bodies disappeared, flung itself forth. The voices urged me to flee, and to tell them just what the hell that thing was, but I ignored them. The two people I had spent the most time with in the New World were dead, and it was my fault, and I was probably next. It was a crushing realization.

    The боcrushing realizationбп ground down my sanity just enough to let something else in. For the first time, perhaps I genuinely went insane. I ran to the plant, as silent as I could be, and fell to the floor by the corpsesбп feet. I was no more than centimeters away from the deadly tendrils, but I didnбпt care, I had a plan, and it would work. Blood was pulling around their bare feet, traces of the plantбпs desperate grinding at their flesh. It was disgusting, but I dipped both of my hands in it nonetheless. Their blood was literally and metaphorically on my hands, now, and I used it to draw circles. I drew circles on the floor, and circles on my body, and circles in my mind. I tried to remember everything I had ever read about magic in worlds where this terrifying plant could possibly exist, anything to kill it or bring back my friends. I felt the tinges of power, something inside, but I could do no more than moving it around inside me. I was excited to feel it, though, and I renewed my efforts. The voices all the while shouted and hollered and asked if I had боgone madбп, but after minutes of me deliriously chanting random mantas and spells and mystic gestures, they must have gotten the hint. A new command came, first far quieter than the rest, and then dwarfing them all in magnitude. I listened. The plant was nearly finished with its meal, but I persisted, desperately scribbling. The command was intricate, an intense network of geometric shapes. I could feel the power within me bubbling, agitated, and by the time it was finished, I felt like I was on fire.

    The voices were pleased, and celebrated. It was quite annoying, listening to a bunch of боgood jobбпs and боgreat workбпs while next to a deadly, man-eating plant, but finally, the next order came. б░Give up something of yours,б▒ it said. б░Leverage your power,б▒ it said. б░The Third Race is not so weak,б▒ it said. All of the other voices were suddenly drowned out by that one voice, swallowed up by a chorus not of the many voices I had been used to, but one made of echoes of this same voice, each saying the same things. As I stared at the circle, an army of those whispers took control, repeating phrases familiar and not. In the end, though, I got the memo. If I gave something up, I could get something back. б░Iбпll give me,б▒ I shouted, throwing myself away from the plant. б░If thatбпs what it takes to get out of Hell, thatбпs what you can take!б▒ Tendrils lashed about, hunting for their next meal. One whizzed just by my face, and that dumb luck was all I had going for me. The ceremony didnбпt do anything. I was just sitting there, waiting for my death. The fire burning within me cooked itself out, and for a moment, I thought I really would die just like that. Suddenly, the tunnel shook. Everything was vibrating, accelerating to such a degree that it looked like the world was just a series of lines. I shut my eyes, cringing for my inevitable death, but the vibration stopped. I opened my eyes once more, only to realize I was back in the dark. I felt about, wary of the plantбпs return, but the tunnel felt different. I waited and waited, but nothing came. I clambered to my feet, stumbling about. I picked a random direction, trailing the tunnel, until I found a light. A little green man was wheeling a cart, a tiny candle mounted at its bow. He squinted up at me, grumbling something in a strange language and stumbling off. I gawked after him as he passed, completely confused. The little guy twirled back around, dismissive glare replaced with wide eyes and a gasp. He chittered a lot of words quick, and I tried to at least give him my name, but to my alarm, I couldnбпt remember it. Hell, I couldnбпt so much as make one up. Instead, I just shook my head, since I couldnбпt understand his words. He took the candle from the cart, grabbed me by the hand, and led me back to the City of Man.

    ___

    б░You know the rest,б▒ the nameless girl said. She seemed exhausted with the retelling. Gen was lost in thought, hardly noticing the fact that she had actually finished her speech. Kat shook her head. б░You really have been through a lot,б▒ she said, smiling gently. б░You just answered quite a few questions and opened quite a few more, though.б▒ Kat shrugged, emphatically. б░For instance, why did that work? To our knowledge, power is communal, and innate. I donбпt think you ever heard our- me and Genбпs- story, but this isnбпt the first time weбпve got cryptic advice before.б▒ The nameless girl gave her a critical eye. She seemed a bit displeased at her strange, advice-giving voices being preempted, but Kat decided to leave that be. б░We got a weird motivational speech while Gen was being reconstituted in some temple-б░

    б░You what?б▒ The Conduit asked, confused. Katбпs smile deepened. б░Itбпs magic. Who knows? Anyways, it told us a couple of things. We needed to work together, alright, but it also made it quite clear what External Mana was- the landбпs power, given to the most valid recipient. Be territorial. It even explained why we should use it a little bit, after all. We didnбпt need the External Mana to really fight the Kaenid, but what if we run into Dragons? Real dragons, not Train-Worms.б▒ The nameless girl cringed. She had been hoping that fire-breathing, flying, gigantic dragons were off the table, and the Adventurer had simply meant the giant worm-things that coursed in and out of the huge lake every so often.

    б░Point being, the advice you got was sort of similar. Weбпre in the dark in this whole magic thing. Why did giving up your name let you magically appear in the City of Manбпs tunnels? Why do you have to tug-of-war to get control of the External Mana? Merrilynбпs going to be pissed that you took this long to actually tell us this shit, by the way.б▒ Kat said. The nameless girl shivered. The Imposter wasnбпt someone whoбпs bad side you wanted to get on. At least, not if she was in the midst of a particularly dangerous persona. Gen finally came to his senses. б░Weбпve got some work to do, Kat. This is a whole боlot bigger than youбпre thinking.б▒ He stared at her, intent. Kat reigned in her chipper mood, channeling her best боseriousбп look, and hopped to her feet to give an exceptionally awkward salute. Gen tried not to laugh, turning over to the Conduit. б░Youбпre absolutely dead, by the way,б▒ he said, б░I think I can buy you some time if you come and behave today, though.б▒ The nameless girl looked between them- the great dictator of the New World, and his right-hand gal in the midst of the most overblown salute she had ever seen. She sighed, resigned. б░I guess Iбпve got to. What do you need me for? I thought question time was over?б▒ She asked.

    The General stood, greatcoat swinging dramatically with every motion. б░Weбпre going to do magic, of course!б▒

 028: Interruptions.

    Gen quite liked the barracks. The Fort had undergone so many overhauls that it was almost impossible to believe it was the same building. Modern design sensibilities took over the floorplan, along with a few modern amenities. They built a plumbing system from scratch, installed regular and long-burning torches once the Goblins finally got off their murder-trip for long enough to restart trade, and even made sure everyone who was important got a corner office on the first or second floor. The crowning jewel, though, was the annex. It was an entirely new structure attached with a secure hallway, and though it wasnбпt built like боpartбп of the Fort, it would be nearly impenetrable from the outside. One of the cadets- named Elson- had been one of the few actually builders in the Old World, an architect and DIY homebuilder, and he took up a form of magic based on accounts from Ayala. Apparently, before the Gomen came the Dwarves, who were a middling race of miniature stature that were adept builders with special talent for reinforcing structures using magic. They were the very same peoples that made the Walled City in which they resided. The walls werenбпt especially impressive now- some RDX was more than enough to collapse a gate, after all- but with magic fed in, it would have been nigh impossible. Even residual magic before their departure had made the walls of the city difficultto siege for decades. With a new talent emulating that power, they could sleep soundly.

    Elson wasnбпt as good at it as the dwarves were, but with Gen giving him almost all of the accessible External Mana, when it wasnбпt needed at least, his powers kept the fort and the fancy new bunker protected, and even enhanced the walls a little. He tried not to dwell on the fact that the only reason he needed an insanely secure bunker was because he was in insane amounts of danger at any given moment, focusing more on how cool it was to have one in general. It wasnбпt entirely his, though- he shared a back room with Kat, sure, but it also had the Facility. The Facility was their test-bed for magic and magical accessories, a wide-open room kitted out to the best of their capabilities. It had clay jars of various reagents that might have some magical effect, wands and rods and staves of all shapes and sizes, and even some (reluctantly relinquished) daggers of his own, in case someone focused on a more combat-oriented magic. They had robes and suits, capped tubs of blood and consecrated water, and also a snack-bar and functional bathroom. It was basically everything a training mage could want.

    The three of them- Gen himself, Kat, and the Conduit- had gathered in the training area. They had been escorted by a very curious Merrilyn, who had been doing theory-work with her боprogrammersбп at the time- and Netya, the Gomen captain of the guard. He was constantly wary, no doubt accustomed to the way carnage seemed to track the three humans in the room and Gen especially. He was impressively muscular, filling out his leather armor much better- while his legs were simply massive, his previously underutilized arms and chest were trained to such a degree that they might have been comparable to some bodybuilders back in the Old World. He had a few new scars, no doubt part of the reason he seemed so uncomfortable with three humans being in one room. Merrilyn, for her part, was dressed in a wizardly get-up. She wore a long, ornate robe, complete with a hood that hung about her shoulders. She filled that out nicely, but Gen made a point of not noticing. Kat was already getting a bit possessive as it was, after all, and regardless of if Merrilyn was off her rocker, she was still a girl.

    Their group of five stood in an ambiguous circle, each facing inwards. The Conduit had drawn the боcircleбп to the best of her memory, an intricate web of geometric shapes. There were Squares within circles within squares, triangles dancing in rows, and some corner-to-corner connections that a topologist would deem impossible, but there was no magic. The five of them just gawked at it, desperately trying to replicate the girlбпs night in the tunnels. It seemed pointless, though. Not even she had felt any sort of reaction. б░Alright, that didnбпt work. Any idea why?б▒ He asked, making eye contact with Merrilyn. She shrugged. б░Fresh blood?б▒ She asked, and Netya instantly skittered back out of arms reach. For a guy with such brutish legs, he was startlingly nimble, and Gen couldnбпt help but feel bad for him. Having the captain of the guard on Merrilyn duty wasnбпt fair, even if it was necessary, and it he seemed just a wee bit traumatized.

    The Conduit coughed pointedly, and they froze in place. Merrilyn was jabbing her middle-fingerбпs fingernail at the poor guyбпs wrist while he tried to keep her at bay without hurting her. They both turned- along with the amused Gen and Kat- to look at the nameless girl. She shook her head. б░I think thereбпs a bit more to it. Youбпd either have to kill him, not that you should,б▒ she said, pausing to check if Merrilyn had actually paid attention to the last bit. The Imposter pouted lightly, displeased, but she nodded. б░бнor find a way to make this more meaningful. This shape had power, but I think it had a lot more to do with the voice that swamped out all the rest. I mean, we havenбпt found anything else with de-facto боpowerбп, have we?б▒ She asked. She honestly didnбпt know- going AWOL kind of threw you out of боnew magic discoveryбп mailing lists. Merrilyn nodded, contemplative. б░I think боcontrolбп is about the only thing,б▒ she said, comfort oozing from every word. All four of them felt just a bit more relaxed, which actually set them a little on edge- the Imposter was apparently in a very боpeople personбп mood today, and it was too easy to forget how dangerous she was on days like those. Netya especially looked worried, letting go of her wrists and getting some distance between them.

    б░In any case,б▒ the Conduit said, б░Thereбпs something else to the боboilingбп bit. I think you actually kind of talked about another example.б▒ Kat nodded sagely. б░Jim and his боmind over matterбп, yes. He never mentioned any boiling, but maybe his was just a slow burn?б▒ Gen tried not to groan. James had stolen away Jim, and whether or not that was the right thing to do, it was a pain in the ass. Merrilyn still hadnбпt quite forgiven him for боaccidentallyбп letting her favorite test subject escape, either. б░That raises the most important question,б▒ he said, б░the thing weбпve all been waiting for.б▒ The others looked at him, puzzled. б░Jim got a big power-up when he finally did his fancy боbreak-thruбп thing, but what did you get? For all that we know, he didnбпt sacrifice anything, but he still got just as much power, if not more.б▒

    The Conduit smacked her forehead. б░Silly me! I never even thought to try to find out what my superpower was, nope.б▒ Gen scowled. б░Youбпve got us here, this time. What have you tried?б▒ She sighed, thinking it over. б░All sorts of chants and tricks with focusing my will, with pretty much no results.б▒ He nodded- at least she was complying, albeit reluctantly. б░Weбпre going to give that боvibrationбп bit a shot. I think you shook yourself so hard that your body lost track of where it was,б▒ he said. She gawked at him. б░You what?б▒ she asked, incredulous. He shrugged. б░Quantum mechanics, or something or another. Sure, itбпs old news, but maybe itбпs where your talent lies.

    б░I got the implication, yeah. I meant what kind of magical fantasy-land power has Quantum Entanglement in it?б▒ She said, disgusted. б░If itбпs any consolation,б▒ Merrilyn chimed in, б░I went for programming!б▒ The woman smiled refreshingly, practically beaming at her. The nameless girl gave up. She focused, swirling her energies about. She really had no idea how to use the stuff, but thankfully, that shouldnбпt matter. The others watched patiently as nothing happened. б░Weбпve got to move popcorn to the top of the боto-inventбп list,б▒ Kat said. б░Is there even corn?б▒ Gen asked, curious. Theyбпd seen a lot of stuff similar to Earth, but rarely anything one-to-one. Kat shrugged. б░I think I spotted a wild plant that may or may not be domesticated into something like corn on my last jog,б▒ she said, б░but the area it was in was guarded by Bearstrosities, so I didnбпt get a good look.б▒ Gen sighed. б░Tell me about infestations soon,б▒ he said. б░Itбпs taken a lot of work to get the forest as clean as it is. Anything that takes over the vacancies will spread like wildfire.б▒ Kat started a smug retort about wildfire and bears, but they were cut off by a gentle thrumming. It felt a lot like home- like the gentle hum of a thousand electronics. They turned back to the nameless girl, only to realize she was shimmering. They could hardly even see her.

    Suddenly, she wasnбпt there at all, but in the opposite corner of the room. She was shimmering for a moment longer, levitating in the air, before falling to the floor unceremoniously. She groaned. б░I canбпt feel my arms,б▒ she said. Merrilyn put a hand on her chin, studying the scene. б░Where did all the air go?б▒ She asked, quizzically. б░Itбпs magic, Merrilyn,б▒ Kat replied, smug. Merrilyn processed that for a moment. б░Fair enough.б▒

    б░I canбпt feel my legs, either,б▒ the nameless girl said. She still lay there, almost entirely unmoving- frozen still except for her thankfully functional lungs and throat. б░Get her some food and water,б▒ Gen ordered Netya, walking over to the immobile girl and pulling her up into a sitting position. She flopped about, hardly capable of maintaining the position even once he dragged her over to lean against the wall. The big man came back with a bowl and a plate of little green fruits, and with some effort, the Conduit finally got herself under control.

    б░That answers that question,б▒ Gen said. The Conduit crossed her arms and sighed, furrowing her brows. б░Alright, so I can teleport,б▒ she said, б░but what does it all mean?б▒

    б░Weбпve got a lot of unknowns to deal with, but this is a step in the right direction.б▒

    б░How, though?б▒ She asked, puzzled. б░I mean, we know how I got out of the tunnel, but we pretty much already knew that.б▒

    б░Itбпs not so much the боgetting outбп part as the боwalking away with some random Goblinбп. Could you have walked away from this? I bet it gets harder with distance, too.б▒

    б░Are you trying to imply that I burned my ability to use names for a little power boost?б▒

    б░Yeah, that much is certain. Itбпs also quite possible that giving it up is the reason you can do magic at all,б▒ Gen confirmed, nodding. б░Jim once said that the боsize of the containerбп mattered as much as what you did with it. That was why he did the whole боInternal Alchemyбп gig, to make a container for all could hold all that power.б▒

    б░Oooh!б▒ Kat exclaimed, excited. б░I think youбпre onto something. Remember when we tried to give him some External Mana?б▒ She asked.

    They had run a number of tests with Jim when he was with the City of Man. One such test had been to try to see if they could feed him enough power to боlevel him upбп, as he put it. There was no such luck. The mana was only useful for super basic circulation, the kind that everyone else did. He couldnбпt utilize it to do any of his fancy tricks, as though it was something else entirely. б░Maybe he got all that power by choosing some rules and sticking to it,б▒ she concluded. Merrilyn shook her head. б░Thereбпs problems with that, too. What me and the programmers are doing is боchoosing rulesбп, after all. We canбпt just go off and do Katбпs wind magic, can we?б▒ Gen sighed. б░Iбпd think itбпd have more to do with the fact that he gave something up. It seems like specializing was the real asset,б▒ he said, and the two girls promptly glared at him.

    There was much bickering and back-and-forth, with the Conduit just desperately trying to follow the conversation. Apparently, it was something that was fairly routine for the group, at least judging by the tone they took. It was more like an inside joke than an argument, even if they looked like they were ready to rip each-otherбпs throats out. The Adventurer was the first to bow out- Kat seemed to have something else in mind. Gen and Merrilyn kept at it, arguing the intricacies of this scenario or that scenario, but she refocused her attention on the Conduit.

    б░It just occurred to me that youбпve had the voices going the entire time and you havenбпt said anything about it,б▒ she said, half-whispering.

    The Conduit shrugged. б░Last time, it bailed me out, but they havenбпt seemed to be saying anything too important. Honestly, Iбпm not sure what opened up the floodgates. Judging by what set it off last time, itбпd be how much blood the General has on his hands.б▒

    Kat cringed. б░Well, what are they saying? Humor me.б▒

    б░Thereбпs lots of little thoughts coming through. The moment I ran into Gen, they started screaming боRun from Captain Hookбп, but since then, itбпs spread out. A good chunk is saying боthe British are comingбп,б▒

    Kat shot a glance over to Gen and took in his motif. She tried desperately not to laugh. б░Is that all?б▒ She asked, doubly curious. Prophetic voices from the beyond were neat and all, but these were interesting in their own way.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    б░Quite a few are demanding I compliment your butt,б▒

    б░Hey!б▒

    б░бнwhile others are more focused on the fact that I teleported across the room. Apparently, that fucked with the voices somehow, though Itбпs not clear how.б▒ She concluded, sighing. б░Itбпs a lot less fun having, having to deal with all of it at once.б▒

    Kat couldnбпt argue with that. б░Tell us if they say something important, okay?б▒ She asked, emphatic. If there was a chance they knew something their little group didnбпt, they had to take it. Danger lurked around every turn, after all. Just in the past month, several new groups of predators popped up, endangering their trade routes. They had to deal with a particularly nasty threat from a few Gomen who were quite certain the humans had outstayed their usefulness. To be absolutely fair, they had, but the dissenters wouldnбпt be arguing that point any time soon. The most troubling thing was probably the constant raids by the Rebellion. They never seemed to do any lasting damage, but they harried caravan after caravan, and no matter how many escorts they sent, they could never so much as stop them, let alone catch them. The Songstress in particular was a pain in the ass. Half the time, the guards would blink themselves to sleep and wake up several days later, leaned up against overturned wagons and carts. Earplugs were effective enough, but they had less casualties if they just let the rebels have their way, so it was an odd sort of balancing act. They tussled and tugged, but it rarely came to bloodshed. At the same time, disrupting the caravans was starting to cause enough trouble that thereбпd need to be more permanent measures taken.

    Kat didnбпt like боpermanent measuresбп. She wasnбпt too happy with the Rebellion as it was, even if she more or less understood their motives and methods, but she certainly didnбпt want to see them obliterated entirely. She had been to the old home of the Kaenid before renovations and homesteading began, and frankly, it had made even her doubt her loyalties. Thereбпs a decent chance that if she came in late like James, sheбпd have deserted, too. For all of his faults, though, she trusted Gen. Loved him, even. That being that, she was still pretty pissed she didnбпt even know his real name. She gave up asking around the time she realized he didnбпt remember it, either.

    The nameless girl shrugged. б░Iбпll let you know, sure. Iбпm mainly waiting for that one voice to take over again. They seemed to know what they were doing.б▒

    б░That reminds me- Netya, can you come over here?б▒ Kat called out to the big man practically cowering in the corner of the room. He nodded, боgracefullyбп skittering around the other two humans- who were still arguing animatedly- to get to them.

    б░I am here, liege.б▒ He said, eyes still darting about.

    б░Does боthe Third Raceбп mean anything to you?б▒

    He froze, and rather than darting about, his eyes locked swith Katбпs own. He broke out into a cold sweat, and finally, he looked away. б░Thatбпs a tough question. Everyone knows the races. Youбпve got the боAngelsбп and the боDragonsбп-б░ He said, slowly and hesitantly. Kat cut him off.

    б░Wait, thatбпs English!б▒ She exclaimed. She had plenty of time to learn the common language when she was crippled, and damn if that wasnбпt just English. The man shrugged, raising his eyebrows. б░They go by many names, like most of the Old Ones, yes.б▒ Kat wrangled her curiosity into check. The implications of that rabbit hole could wait.

    б░Thereбпs the Angels, the First to emerge, then the Dragons for the Second, the Fair for the Third. The chances of running into any of them would be virtually none, though.б▒

    Kat clued in. б░According to the Conduit, one of her Voices implied that humans were the Third Race. What would that mean?б▒ She asked.

    The muscle-bound man started another staring match, but this time, it broke off quickly. He strained some chuckles out of his throat, which sounded a little more like choking, really. б░You lot have such a sense of humor, yes?б▒ He said. When Kat didnбпt provide the punchline, he broke down. She ran over to him as he fell to his knees, trying to catch him, but the man was like a sack of rocks. He hunched over, mumbling a slurry of words in a language she didnбпt understand. She tried spelling her ears, but it was to no avail. Judging by the stricken look on his face, there was a decent chance he wasnбпt saying боwordsбп at all.

    Kat wasnбпt sure what to make of that. For all his quirks, Netya had been pretty sturdy. She rubbed his back gently, hoping to coax him out of whatever panic attack had taken him. She wondered what this could mean. The боThird Raceбп comment had seemed pretty irrelevant at time, but apparently it was every bit as important as the rest of the message. б░Did you break my toy?б▒ Merrilyn asked, incredulous. Kat turned, finally noticing the fact that the other half of their little group had stopped bickering. By the time the other two came over, the big man had finally calmed down a little bit. б░Ayala was right,б▒ he whimpered, б░as she always is.б▒

    б░What happened?б▒ Gen asked.

    б░He was doing fine until I asked him about the боThird Raceбп, then he broke into hysterics.б▒ Kat explained.

    б░Of course he did,б▒ Merrilyn sighed. б░Havenбпt you lot been paying attention?б▒

    б░For the record, Iбпve only been боhereбп for like a day,б▒ the Conduit said.

    б░I havenбпt forgotten,б▒ she growled, б░but thatбпs not the important bit. The denizens all place a huge amount of importance on the Order of Emergence.б▒

    Gen nodded. б░I did hear that the Goblins were unique in that they were among the first Twenty. The seventeenth, I think?б▒

    Merrilyn smiled, appeased. б░According to old lore, they were actually capable of challenging even the Ninth Race, which is doubly notable. Hopping up more than four or five places is practically unheard of. The fact they were merchants for small fries like the Gomen or the Kaenid for so long is just as insane, by this worldбпs standards. People sort of assumed it was ally just mythology, and that they were some offshoot of the боreal Goblinsбп.б▒

    That gave him pause. б░So, Race order is power?б▒ He asked, curious. She thought that over carefully, and then shook her head. б░Iбпm not quite sure if thatбпs right. Thereбпs something else going on, perhaps.б▒

    б░The voices are demanding that I do something more interesting,б▒ the Conduit said. б░I donбпt think they can hear us anymore, maybe not since I used my teleportation ability, so theyбпre bored.б▒

    The others glared daggers at her, and she threw her hands into the air. б░Hey! Donбпt shoot the messenger!б▒ She exclaimed.

    б░Last time one of us got bored,б▒ Gen growled, б░we went for a ride on a Dragon-worm.б▒

    Kat shoved him a bit and huffed. б░There was more to it than that, I think,б▒

    Merrilyn just looked at the nameless girl, unamused. б░Youбпre going to jinx it,б▒ She said.

    б░Jinxes arenбпt real,б▒ the Conduit retorted. б░Itбпs just numbers, when you boil it down. Isnбпt that half of what you guys do, with your боProgrammingбп stuff?б▒

    Merrilyn nodded, but her eyes never seemed to move off her. б░Yes, but the other half is magic. The kind that places a lot of importance on banal, mythical things. Like Jinxes, for instance.б▒

    She opened her mouth to argue and promptly shut it. She really didnбпt have an argument for that, and the others went silent too. The only sound left was Netyaбпs agitated rocking and whimpers, and they persisted through awkward still. Nothing happened for a good while, and finally, Kat began to chuckle nervously. Gen joined in. б░Itбпs nothing,б▒ he said, as the entire twenty-man platoon of Programmers, who had been doing боgroup practiceбп outside, burst into the room.

    б░Mistress!б▒ One exclaimed, a rail-thin man who had been in the group from the start. б░бнand Generalб▒, he added, off-hand.

    б░What is it, Steven?б▒ She asked.

    б░The Rebellion is at our gates, demanding we accept their surrender, or something or another.б▒ He said, saluting as he finished his report. In some ways, Gen envied how effectively the woman had whipped them into shape, but heбпd have little luck using the methods she had, for a few reasons. More importantly, though, the Rebellion was surrendering? He had been quite clear that was only to happen in one situation- the advent of a greater threat. For all his subordinates complained about the Rebellionбпs raids, they had also cleaned the Forests and Jungle so thoroughly that they only had to deal with a fraction of the threats it would otherwise possess. Really, fatalities had plummeted under the system, and even if only a third of the Caravans made it, that was as much as the city ever used to get. They staffed each with a third of the escorts, a third of the Goblins traders, and every bit as much produce. The autonomous farming towns needed a tiny fraction of the village guards they had relied on, which was a huge boon to production. In reality, the Rebellion was every bit as capable and useful as he had hoped, leaving him with sorting out the details. James was at the helm, too, and just by proxy Genбпs respect for the man had increased tenfold. He was far-sighted and useful alone, but he at the helm of the group, he might have even been Genбпs equal, provided a fair field. What could bring the Rebellion to its knees, so early?

    They hurried out, the Conduit stumbling after them, and Netya only barely clambering to his feet to drag along. A number of Goblins were standing outside the fort and in the vicinity, starting from the door and trailing all the way down the abyss, then back up again, and off into the city in the distance. They stood at set distances in little groups of two, and when the General emerged, the nearest saluted. б░Orders, sir?б▒ One rasped, a perfect little soldier. б░Let them in and surround them,б▒ he said. Just as the Goblin puffed up its chest, ready to shout, he held up a hand. б░Tell them to get the боreal earplugsбп in, first.б▒ It nodded, and finally exhaled, howling out his words in the choppy language of the Goblins. It was almost perfectly tailored to something like this, a fraction of the time used for every word except боearplugsбп, which was of newer invention, a little more complicated.

    The next one in the distance saluted, waiting just a moment to see if the message was over, and hollered once more. As the four of them ran, and the Captain of the Guard hobbled along far behind, the message traveled quickly ahead. At least, until Kat went full speed. Gen could feel the cityбпs mana acquiesce her a sum as she tapped into it. He could hear the sonic boom as she tore away. It wasnбпt a real sonic boom, but a function of the forcible tear she was making in the air ahead of her. It was a vacuum, and in conjunction with the air shoving her forward, she practically flew along the grass, and with a single leap and a truly silly amount of mana wasted, she crossed the chasm entirely. The goblin message chain barely kept up with her, having to dip down into the abyss, and they were neck and neck. The Adventurer flung herself upwards, decelerating and gliding onto the great wall of the Walled City. She had left behind the rest of the group, but that was fine. She hadnбпt had an excuse to go all out in quite a while.

    The Goblins and Gomen scattered, running about as they prepared to let in the rebels, and no doubt, theyбпd be done by the time Gen arrived. Kat refocused on the wall, climbing up it at a breakneck pace. Finally, she mounted it, and she could see beyond, and below. The forest had changed since the last time sheбпd been atop the wall, with more clearings and more trails winding away from the hill into the wilds. The forest had changed, and so had the rebels. They were rougher, with tattered clothes and wild accessories made of furs and plants. No one had access to shaving- it had never been necessary for the Goblin or even the Gomen, who both had naturally hairless faces- and their actual hair was unkempt or long. They really had been a militia for this long, living off the lands and roaming endlessly, and it showed. They were all kneeling. Kat could see some of their faces as they gawked at the city they hadnбпt seen properly in so long, and the animosity that radiated off of many, as well as quite a few people she was pretty sure she had never seen before. It was a tide of people, nearly as many as they had within the city, and a homecoming. The prodigal sons and daughters of the City of Man were home, and it felt like they had never left.

    She couldnбпt help but wonder why.

 029: I almost feel bad for them.

    He had to take it all in. Gen hadnбпt been to the gate in a good while, and certainly not under such interesting circumstances. His field of view was dominated by the huge wall, a backdrop that reminded him thoroughly that he was still in another world. It was a different type of magnificent from skyscrapers, but in his eyes, it was equally impressive. The city had taken months to re-assemble the gate Merrilyn had leveled, for all of their manpower and intellect they could muster. It was even more impressive now that it was practical. Intricate grooves and cavities trailed from the bottom to the top, making a боclimbing wallбп of sorts to allow people to surmount it from the inside. Sure enough, a certain someone had done so as soon as she had the choice. Kat sat atop the wall, glowing in the sunlight. She was hunched over, leaning her head on her hands, kicking her legs back and forth playfully. Gen quite hoped her shoes wouldnбпt come off. He was no Physicist, but with how high up she was, they might hit terminal velocity.

    Another object of interest, or objects in this case, wasthe tightly-knit wall of Gomen guards who had, as per his orders, encircled the Rebels. They were so massive and so well put-together that he couldnбпt so much as see inside. The poor people inside were likely just as deprived of line-of-sight. James had trained them well- not many could keep composure in the face of боcertain deathбп. Either the group was severely underrating Genбпs ability to kill them all, or they were simply that confident in the will of their leader, or both. He put aside a mental note that Jamesбп freaky mind-control powers might have gotten a boost over the time heбпd been away. More on the topic of how lethal Gen had made the city, he could barely spot the Goblins swarming nearby rooftops, weapons in hand. Nearly as soon as he saw flashes their distinct green tinge, they were gone, concealed in one of the many hidey-holes they had worked to establish. Under his order, radical restructuring of the city had made it a concrete jungle. It was probably more suited to guerrilla fighting than the forests the Rebels ran amuck in- which was another good reason to keep them under control.

    Almost all of the Gomen had their backs to him, eyes trained on the army sitting in their midst. Only Ayala, the cityбпs Warden, faced away, awaiting his arrival. She smiled, curtseying sardonically and with such poor form that it seemed more like an insult. Really, curtseys didnбпt look right from anyone with biceps thicker than your head. Needless to say, attempts to turn the woman into a right and honorable military officer had ended poorly. She was far too proud for that. At the same time, she had mellowed a bit to his reign around the time she figured out that despite his usage of Goblins and Gomen alike as expendables, they were still probably safer under his leadership. Part of it may have also been the fact that he finally let her inside the Boom Room- now more properly the боBoom Factoryбп. Frankly, Merrilynбпs little pet project made him want to hand her the reigns. He returned the Wardenбпs smile, bowing excessively and with all the precisely-trained form one should expect from leaders of men and the comically evil alike.

    б░Theyбпre in there,б▒ she grunted before he could even right himself. б░What should we do with them?б▒

    He sighed. б░Iбпll getбн боpeace talksбп started. Please set aside a building and cook up a nice little shell to prevent eavesdropping,б▒ he said. She nodded left brusquely, hustling off to the side. He allotted her an appropriate amount of mana, thankfully far less than maintenance and creation of the original shield around the floating Alcatraz. Explanations of what a боshadowбп was and how her shield might actually function had been too hard to understand, but as she slowly came to terms with it, she seemed to get more and more efficient- and effective. By the time the Gomen troops finally gave him a little opening to get in, she seemed to be mostly done with the bubble-forming process. It would have been nice if she actually ordered the troops to pop open the encirclement before she left, especially since they couldnбпt exactly hear him and knocking on armor hurt, but he had to admire how quick she was to get into action.

    There they were, a hundred or so humans, all kneeling. Genбпs first impression was how unkempt they were, where virtually all were growing uncomfortable amounts of body hair and needed new clothes. James knelt at the very front, and when he saw Gen striding into the circle of muscle-bound men, he winked. Gen tried not to stumble, holding his posture as best he could. James looked like a caveman, far more muscular than he had been before he left and covered with hair. His headбпs worth of hair was down to his shoulders, as was his beard. He wore an interesting ensemble, cloth and hide stitched together in an arrangement that looked almost artistic. Having someone who looked like a hermit wink at you was a unique experience, that much was certain. James was flanked by two other people, each sitting a half pace behind him.

    To his left was a woman. She seemed to be more carefully pruned and preened, even though Gen knew internally that was quite impossible. Given her clean-cut state, he could recognize her immediately. It was Madeline, pop-star extraordinaire. He had overlooked her when she was in the city. He was far too busy with work to have shown up at Taverns, let alone to listen to a concert. She hadnбпt turned up anything in her magic studies, either, until after the Rebels left the city. He regretted that immensely- her powers would be inevitably useful. She was beautiful, reasonably intelligent, and lethal. It took him a whole night and a half to get the city equipped to handle her, and if the Rebellion had attempted a siege, the city might well not have held. It was a damn good idea to get James at the helm. Judging by the way she glared at him, if she had started the coup, his head would have already been in a guillotine.

    To his right was aбн man? He had an incredibly pale complexion, the kind that should have burned after being under the sun for mere minutes. His features were elegantly cut, with an angular but soft bone structure that had a tint of familiarity and a gist of androgyny. Gen was pretty sure he didnбпt know any vampires, but for some reason, he couldnбпt shake the feeling he had met this one before. Granted, maybe they werenбпt a vampire, since it was out in broad daylight. The pale man wore intricate robes that suited his looks, a complete and untattered outfit sewn together so completely that the various furs and skins and cloths looked like they were all part of one big ensemble and not scrounged up from forest scraps. It looked almost regal, with a tall collar at one end and the robe only finally stopping near his ankles. The sleeves went down to his hands and then some more, covering them entirely. Gen mused that if he and James traded outfits, Mister Moses really would look like a cult leader, or at least a monk of some description. The pale man growled at Gen when he noticed him looking, which was a bit jarring, considering his delicate appearances. Weaklings and scholars donбпt growl, usually.

    б░Whoбпs the new guy?б▒ He asked James nonchalantly, nodding over to the growling not-vampire to his side. James chuckled a bit, opening his mouth to speak, when the pale man interrupted. б░Fuck you,б▒ he spat, and promptly returned to growling.

    James sighed. б░Thatбпs just Jim,б▒ he said, and Gen couldnбпt even try to cover his shock. He nearly tipped over, in fact. Jim had been robust, endlessly masculine, and hell, his skin tone had been somewhere between боtanбп and боdarkбп, not snow white. James looked over to Jim, scowling. б░Simmer down.б▒

    Jim immediately stopped growling, switching to a gentle smile. б░Howбпve you been?б▒ He asked Gen, relaxed. That threw him for a loop, too. He wasnбпt honestly sure if he should laugh or if he should cry- apparently everyone was in for mood swings today. James scowled harder. б░I said боsimmer downбп, not боpal upбп,б▒ he said, dropping his tone to something just shy of a whisper. The crowd behind him- those who could actually get a gist for the conversation- was getting a bit antsy. They werenбпt quite sure how to act, some still growling and spitting dramatically in Genбпs general direction, others tranquil or resolved to go wherever James led, no protest required. Madeline frowned at Jim, eyes searching for an answer, perhaps as to how he was so relaxed talking to the Tyrant. She seemed to have forgotten that quite a few of the people here had talked to Gen regularly before the schism.

    Jim grunted. б░Damn, boss, youбпre dense,б▒ and James just gawked, confused. Gen put two and two together. б░Letбпs keep things on topic, shall we?б▒ He said the question more like an order, and he earned the ire of the crowd quite thoroughly. James got his game-face back on, and Jim returned to scowling and growling.

    б░Iбпm going to bring your leader away for боpeace talksбп,б▒ he said. That much was to plan, but considering new informationбн Before Gen could even figure out how to justify changing it up, a figure shot up from the crowd.

    б░You canбпt hurt him, Tyrant,б▒ he shouted angrily. б░We wonбпt let you!б▒

    Gen recognized the boy. He was a young man, one of Jamesбп first group, and among the initial Programmers. He had never been quite as good at it as his peers, but he had still been quite an asset. Gen could guess that he had been set quite thoroughly against боthe Tyrantбп after witnessing their one terrible skirmish first hand from atop the wall, and realizing that the bloodshed was preventable, albeit necessary. No one else stood up to join his resistance, and he looked around, confused. James whipped back to look at him, desperately gesturing. боSit down,бп he urged. боJust sit downбп.

    Naturally, the boy never had a chance to боjust sit downбп. His head was hit by four arrows at nearly the same time, each shot from a different direction. One skidded uselessly over his head, but the others found their mark, poking three new holes in his skull. The crowd went silent- even the growling and spitting and general hostility ceased. The person who was to the boyбпs right had even been splashed with some of the blood and matter from his perforation, and after a moment of terrified gawking, they simply passed out. Gen decided not to impart any particular punishment on the people who scrambled to tend to the poor unconscious sap. James just sighed, turning back to the front and pouting.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    б░Good question! Yes, the Rebel will be allowed an escort.б▒ Gen looked down at James, squinting. He took the hint, putting a hand on Jimбпs shoulders and mumbling to Madeline about боkeeping the rest of them calmбп. Gen wasnбпt quite sure if she got anything through her abject horror at the fresh body not but a few rows behind her, but the Rebel didnбпt seem to care. He and Jim stood up, almost in unison, and Gen gestured to the gap in the encirclement, urging them forward. If only for appearances, it was good to take precautions- prisoners always walk in the front, especially if theyбпre dangerous or untethered. The crowd silently watched them go, shifting uncomfortably but making no protest.

    The line of guards closed the gap behind them as they walked, like a door slamming shut. Gen pointed them in the right direction, and the three of them found their way into the secure structure. Ayala had even dragged out a table and chairs and some uncomfortable implements, perfect for боinterrogationбп. Gen picked them up and meandered through the room, setting them on some random shelf, while the other two found seats. He finally joined them, sitting across the table from the two rebels.

    б░A, B, C, D,б▒ he counted out. James crinkled up his face. б░Youбпre really gonna use that?б▒ He asked, frustrated. Gen shrugged. б░You could be some changeling race, for all I know. Apparently, Faeries are real, so thereбпs that.б▒ James sighed. Gen had taught him a simple cipher to ensure they could at least verify they were who they said they were, provided a little thought. Considering how thoroughly Jimбпs appearance had changed, maybe the kid was onto something. It was the Atbash Cipher, a simplistic cipher where you simply reflected the order of the alphabet. боA, B, C, D,бп would beбн б░Z, Y, W, X?б▒ He asked. Gen nodded. He was pretty confident that even if some fairy intruder got a grasp on English, the cipher would have at least made them stumble. Too much more precaution would just be paranoia.

    б░How long have you known?б▒ Gen asked, locking eyes with Jim. The man didnбпt waver, and Gen got a strange sort of feeling from his eyes. A lot had changed in the time heбпd been away. Gen hadnбпt known Jim quite as well as James, but that was just a function of personality- he and James clicked, while no one except for maybe the Songstress had really боclickedбп with Jim. He had been quiet, imposing, and a little bit eccentric.

    б░Day one,б▒ Jim said. б░One of the perks of cultivation has always been heightened senses, and you guys werenбпt exactly quiet in the back room.б▒ He paused, tilting his head to think. б░Merrilyn probably knows, too,б▒ he concluded.

    Gen groaned. б░Yeah, I figured. Honestly, the fact that no one else seems to have figured it out is a small miracle. Welcome back, by the way.б▒

    б░Yeah, I love one of my men being shot, great greeting,б▒ James interrupted, crossly.

    б░I thought for sure itбпd take at least two or three casualties before they calmed down. Youбпve trained them well.б▒ Gen was positively upbeat at that. It was quite nice to see such a well-tailored army. He had spent more than a few nights fretting over whether or not James could tame so many rebels well enough to turn them into something useful. Hell, he had a hard time with just getting Kat to be more боresults-orientedбп. James grumbled a bit and slouched, elbow on table and head perched on hand.

    Jim, for his part, grunted. б░Glad to be back. Provided you donбпt shoot me, at least.б▒ Gen chuckled a bit at that. б░Pleasantries aside, what happened to you?б▒ He asked, letting a bit of steel slip into his tone. Jim had gone and done something strange again, or he was afflicted with some disease. In either case, it needed to be public knowledge. The man looked confused, and Gen tried not to notice Jamesбп smug smile. б░What happened?б▒ He asked.

    б░Iбпm not sure how to explain it to you?б▒ Gen said. б░I mean, your muscle toneбпs gone, and your face looks completely different. You even got a newбн complexion?б▒

    Realization dawned on Jimбпs face, and he smiled. б░I have condensed enough Qi toбн Oh, fuck it, youбпre not going to get any of that.б▒ He started talking excitedly, but sometime between James laughing at him and Genбпs expression going totally blank, he pivoted and cleared his throat. б░I got rid of my impurities.б▒

    б░Impurities as in what? Disease?б▒

    Jim shrugged. б░Disease, sure, but also a bunch of imperfections accumulated since birth. Anything born of Earth rather than Heaven, or something a bit esoteric like that. Iбпve started way late so it was a bit of a pain in the ass, but all things considered, Iбпd be something of a prodigy.б▒

    Gen gawked at him. б░What does all that have to do with dipping yourself in flour and giving yourself a facelift?б▒ He asked, incredulous.

    Jim opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut. He had never quite concerned himself over why боwhite, pale, flawlessбп skin was a necessary step in attaining his own Dao, or why the old stories had even included such a thing. He had actually met some people with excessively pale skin and they had little special about them other than how easily they burned under the sun. He tried a few more times, pursuing different paths of logic, before he finally settled on the one that made the most sense to him.

    б░Itбпs magic. I donбпt have to explain shit,б▒ he said as resolutely as he could manage.

    Gen chewed that one over, before finally nodding slowly. Heбпd find a better argument for why it didnбпt matter magically later on, but considering Jim was quite likely to be the foremost authority within the entire human race, he couldnбпt really argue. б░Well, what does it let you do?б▒ He asked, doubly curious. Jim shot to his feet with impressive speed.

    б░Behold,б▒ he said, flourishing dramatically. Little blue balls, about the size of pebbles, shot from his fingertips. He wiggled his digits, and the balls scattered, orbiting his entire body at some speed. He pointed to the table and they twisted around his body, rocketing down the length of his arm and finger and to the target. One by one they made impact, little explosions of flame and force rattling the little house gently, until finally there were ten evenly spaced holes in the wood, still smoking. Gen and James both clapped, oohing and ahhing at the display. Jim puffed up, strangely proud. б░He can fly for a bit longer now, and he even heals pretty quick. Scars disappear.б▒

    Gen grunted. б░Man, why did I settle on such a weak power?б▒ He asked, and Jim and James alike both stared at him. Jim shook his head slowly, while James just stared. б░I canбпt use magic, Gen. Not at all,б▒ Jim said. Gen started to protest, but the man cut him off. б░The only way I can get more powerful now is the way Iбпve chosen. I think I believed a little too hard,б▒ he concluded. б░I canбпt even feel mana the way I used to. Itбпs gone.б▒ Gen tried to process that. In a vacuum, it was just the way things were. They werenбпt in a vacuum, though. He even had an example to compare it to in the Conduit and actually Ayala. His mind dove in the rabbit hole, chasing after the elusive truth he needed to find if they wanted to compete to the magical races the Gomen kept warning about, but his more grounded self yanked it back into place. He shook his head hard, splaying his hand on the table.

    б░There are more pressing things to attend to, I apologize,б▒ he said, adopting his best regalia. Jim sat down, or perhaps he had already been sitting. James relaxed, finally ending his laser-lock, which was strange enough. They needed to find an excuse to talk about whatever was on his mind later, Gen noted. б░What got you guys? Why are you all here?б▒ He asked.

    б░Well,б▒ James said, б░thereбпs a new game in town.б▒

    Gen swore under his breath. б░Explain.б▒

    б░Long story short, a bunch of giant burly guys with horns popped out of a blimp,б▒ James continued nonchalantly.

    б░What the fuck?б▒ Gen asked.

    James nodded vigorously. б░I know, right? We got as close as we could without getting their attention and watched them get set up. We thought we could take them, probably,б▒

    б░You couldnбпt, though.б▒ Gen concluded. б░Why?б▒

    б░They set up some sort of structure, a nice little bowl thing and wired it up and set it to spinning. Itбпd whiz about and every time it stopped, a new horned guy popped out.б▒ James nodded. б░It took a while, but by the time we had set up properly to siege their little group, it had doubled in size.б▒

    Gen groaned. б░Real question is if they stole it from us, or if we stole it from them.б▒ He thought it was properly enigmatic for a general-slash-bad-guy, but James stared at him blankly, and it was making him uncomfortable, so he had to compromise. б░That temple Kat found in the jungle had a mechanism that worked the same way. It was a bit fancier, though. Never did figure out what going through that sack of shit trial gave me other than this hook,б▒ he explained, waving it a bout.

    James nodded. б░Well, glad you know. Long story short, one of us got spotted, and we had to book it. боConsensusбп was that weбпd need the armyбпs help to deal with this particular threat, at least after I manufactured it. Itбпs bad, Gen. Really bad.б▒

    б░What sort of magic do they have? Weaponry?б▒

    Jim chimed in. б░Theyбпve got fancy armor of the medieval variety. The blimp had a metric fuck-ton of metal plate armor instead of manpower, and it looked to be of reasonable quality. Magically, we didnбпt see much of anything, but thatбпs cause for concern. James mentioned they боwired it upбп. They plugged that magical shit in to some fancy boxes and it powered on, no problem.б▒

    б░They can store magic!б▒ Gen exclaimed. б░Youбпve just given me a really good reason not to massacre them all. Iбпm sure your people will be proud.б▒

    James grinned. б░Weбпve got to leave a few to interrogate, donбпt we?б▒

 030: "Mans Best Friend"

    б░бнWhich means for the time being, you will be treated as боmercenariesбп until the existential threat has been dealt with. A ceasefire.б▒ Gen concluded, ignoring the gawking crowd. They had no doubt expected him to walk out with Jamesбп head on a platter, not to give them amnesty, no matter how temporary it really was. That was, the majority didnбпt expect it. There were still quite a few people who seemed to have expected this sort of outcome, who had quite possibly remembered the chain of events that led to their desertion. The Tyrant was ruthless, but in reality, he had spared no expense to eliminate what actually constituted a боthreat to mankindбп, albeit a hobbled one. Surely, pardoning some human rebels was nothing compared to out-and-out genocide. Madeline just seemed relieved to see Jim and James again, alive and intact.

    James stepped forward, leaving Genбпs flank for the first time since they had re-entered the encirclement. б░I expect complianceбн for the time being, at least. The better weбпre prepared, the less likely this new race wipes us out. We donбпt even know if theyбпre necessarily hostile, but itбпs important to be prepared. I made it quite clear that we expect minimal bloodshed on both sides if at all possible. We will be training with the City Guard,б▒ He bowed slightly, scanning the crowd. б░You can stop kneeling, now, you know?б▒

    An embarrassed chuckle rolled through the crowd. Bit by bit they rose, finally back to their feet. Kneeling for such a long time was a real pain. It took about as long for the crowd to wipe off their knees and stretch as it did for them to stand back up, but once they finished, the encirclement broke around them. Gomen lined the stalls and market-building walls while Goblins huddled on the rooftops, weapons in hand but idle at their sides. The two sides sized each-other up properly for the first time in a long while and found each-other lacking. The Goblins decided the crowd was too disorderly and meaningless. A horde of goblins that size could have at least slaughtered the ground troops, albeit at great cost. The Gomen didnбпt appreciate their desertion. After all, they had been conquered and oppressed- to some degree- but they still at least had a stake in the city. The Rebels had ran away and still had the gall to come back for help? Disgusting, in their eyes at the least. The new боmercenariesбп were simply unhappy with the face that the other two groups had decided to follow the General to the end.

    Gen cleared his throat and Guards and Rebels alike refocused on him. б░Youбпll have plenty of time to glare at each-other later. I want you, and you, and you, and you too,б▒ to which he picked out a few particularly tall humans, б░to go with Fireteam One.б▒ Begrudgingly the rebels obliged, and together with Fireteam One, a four-man squad of bow-trained Goblins, they filed off down the road towards the Fort.

    Nine fire-teams, six squads, twenty-one mage candidates, and an awful lot of time later,preperationswere well and truly underway. Gen finally relaxed, having seen off the last of the crowds, human and inhuman. James grunted. б░Where are the residents? Threw emбп in Gulag?б▒

    Gen shook his head, laughing. б░Is that what youбпre calling it? Iбпve always preferred Alcatraz. Itбпs got a mystique,б▒ he said.

    б░No, really, where are they?б▒

    б░Theyбпre around,б▒ Gen said, б░itбпs just a matter of where. Quite a few are scoping out the mines or doing R&D. Others are in the taverns and shops, some even working counters. The bulk are back at the Fort, though. Youбпll see them.б▒

    б░You donбпt know what youбпve been missing, Jim,б▒ he said, letting a little pride into his voice.

    б░What does that mean? Oh, you canбпt be serious,б▒ Jim gasped.

    б░Merrilynбпs been busy. Why donбпt you two take a walk with me?б▒ Gen asked, beckoning. James started to ask what had Jim so excited, but before he could even get a word out, the frail man had hefted him up off the ground and took off, flying straight for the fort. James had never been on a plane before, let alone free-flown through the air, so whatever questions he had for Gen were cut off by a gasp and a shriek. Gen stopped walking, pausing to watch the two fly off into the distance. At first, James just flailed and screamed, but he got his bearings pretty quickly. By the time Gen couldnбпt hear him anymore, the terrified screams were just hollering, like someone going down a particularly extreme rollercoaster. He smiled, starting back on his way, and he wondered for a moment if theyбпd cause much trouble before he got there.

    Those thoughts were promptly interrupted by a voice right beside his ear. б░Ready for your turn?б▒ Kat asked, tone somewhere between боflirtyбп and боtauntingбп. Gen juked away from her almost instantly, a reaction so primal and ingrained by this point that it happened before he really realized that it was Kat creeping up on him and not some unseen threat. The two of them had a sort of symmetry. He liked to plan, she liked to act. He was endlessly observant, but an interesting quirk of her particular system of magic was that it made her near-silent. Kat had spent just as long as him training her abilities, if not longer- sitting around in a chair was mind-numbingly boring, especially for someone who was expected to be on the move. She had been working hard to figure out how to make herself faster, quieter, more mobile, and to some extent, she succeeded. The most efficient augment she could do was to simply use a cushion of flowing air to help disperse the pressure of footfalls somewhat, as far as she could tell, but it wasnбпt the most effective. With the seemingly endless supply of the city, she could form teeny-tiny layer of vacuum around her that cut off virtually all sound like a bubble. She couldnбпt hear Gen, sure, but Gen couldnбпt hear her.

    Which meant that the sweat on Genбпs neck and the battle-ready stance he had hopped into were genuine, and therefore hilarious. She puffed up her cheeks, covering her mouth in a distinctly infuriating боIбпm-not-laughing-at-youбп gesture that only really rubbed it in. Gen responded with a half-hearted scowl. б░I thought we agreed you wouldnбпt do that anymore,б▒ he said.

    б░You agreed,б▒ she laughed, б░I just let you think I did.б▒

    He groaned, ready to lodge a complaint, but she cut him off. б░I was thinking we could get real creative with how we fly, you know?б▒ The expectant grin was hard to deny, but reluctantly, Gen shook his head. б░Weбпve still got to get the others.б▒

    б░What others?б▒ Kat asked, before promptly slapping her forehead. Gen hadnбпt been the only one trying to catch up, but it had escaped her mind entirely.

    б░Merrilyn decided we needed to start preparing, so she took the others and went for the Depot.б▒

    The Depot was a newer addition to the city, and one Kat had hardly spent much time in. It took the form of a secure ring carved into the side of the mountain, enterable only by new suspended bridges hanging between Alcatraz and otherwise sheer cliff-face. It was most accessible from those points, and as you got further and approached the ramps that spiraled down the giant ditch, it became nearly indistinguishable from the walls it was cut into. Very few residents even had regular access to the place, partially to prevent боdangerous goodsбп from leaving, and also because боdangerous goodsбп wasnбпt a metaphor. It was armed to the teeth with explosives, experimental weaponry, and more, and they expected it would only get more volatile from there. Needless to say, боjumping over the abyssбп would be pretty pointless if they needed to go down into it. Sure, theyбпd probably still have a боcontrolled descent into the abyssбп, but that was a whole lot less romantic.

    They walked, she grumbled, and the sun strolled gently through the sky. Eventually the two of them got to the cityбпs primary intersection, a point along the abyssбп edge where the two main roads finally met. It was also the easiest way to get on a ramp heading to the bottom. After a great deal of back and forth and adventurous insistence, Gen finally relented and let her боparachuteбп them onto the bridge below, more or less in-tact.

    Gen knelt, hanging his head off over the edge of the bridge. б░Remind me to add a roof to these bridges,б▒ he choked out between wretches. Kat just shook her head. б░You canбпt possibly be that queasy after a little drop like that.б▒ She said, sighing. He glared up at her for a moment before gagging and hanging his head back off the edge. б░Hate heights. Why do you think I went deeper in that damn cave?б▒

    б░You know what, that actually makes a bit of sense.б▒ She walked over, patting his back and rubbing it gently. б░You could have just told me you were afraid.б▒

    б░Why would the great and powerful General be afraid of heights? This never happened, by the way.б▒ He finally righted himself, scrambling to his feet- right in time to see Merrilynбпs smug grin. She loomed behind Kat, leaning on the now-open security doorбпs heavy frame. Kat followed his eyes and whipped around.

    б░Can you not do that?б▒

    б░Hah!б▒ Gen chimed in, б░Now you know how I feel.б▒

    Merrilyn just enjoyed the little victory. She was a master of surprise, someone who spent years honing her craft. Something as simple as quietly appearing behind some kids was easy as pie, especially if they were боpreoccupiedбп. б░Weбпve been waiting,б▒ she lilted, spicing up the simple phrase with dramatic inflections natural enough to make most stage personalities jealous.

    Gen wasnбпt amused. He just rose one eyebrow. Why, of all possible боpeople to beбп at a given moment, had she chosen this one? It didnбпt seem very practical. He decided not to give it much thought. Merrilyn was at mercurial at best and chaotic at worst, and that was when she was just being Merrilyn. He decided to play along, bowing slightly as he passed her by. The Depot unfolded in front of him, and he took a moment to bask in its glory.

    Everything was more or less where it was supposed to be. He rubbed his hands in glee as he looked from shelf to rack to box, enjoying each toy he could use and abuse against the new threat- given the opportunity, at least. This would be their first expedition, after all. That made him nervous- it was quite likely that both sides would be entirely deprived of external mana, or at least of sizeable quantities of it. Then again, they didnбпt really get how that stuff worked, and none of the cityбпs residents had a real answer. The Goblins simply didnбпt need or use magic, and Ayala had never precisely gone on excursions into the wild.

    The Conduit was milling about, intent on the various objects in the facility. Gen cleared his throat and she whipped around. б░Are you insane?б▒ She asked, incredulous.

    Gen shrugged. б░Whatever could you mean?б▒

    б░Half of this stuff is explosive. The other half isбн Isnбпt this breaking all sorts of unspoken rules? Even the voices were groaning about боtheir immersion breakingбп, or something along those lines.б▒

    б░There are no rules where the fate of humanity is concerned, and wait what, the voices havenбпt gone away yet?б▒ He had been prepared to go one a particularly salient rant about survival and ruthless determination, but it occurred to him that the Conduit had only had it боopenбп for a little while last time.

    The girl just hung her head at that. б░They wonбпt shut up, especially now that theyбпve got their hearing back. Thatбпs really not the point, though.б▒

    Gen put a hand to his chin, pondering. б░I guess youбпre right. It just doesnбпt bode well, at least compared to the past. Also, hello боvoicesбп, how are you doing? This isnбпt a British-style coat, by the way. I had it fashioned after the-б▒If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    б░Donбпt antagonize them, man.б▒ The Conduit groaned. б░Theyбпve been obnoxious enough.б▒

    He started to speak, but the nameless girl threw a hand out. б░Wait a moment,б▒ she said. Kat and Merrilyn finally filed into the room, noticing the apparent tension. She froze in a just slightly strange posture, as though she had been dropped into a game of red light green light. The great and majestic performer Merrilyn, not to be outdone, managed to posture herself practically in midair, balanced only on one heel. Finally, the Conduit seemed to be satisfied. She slowly lowered her arm, and the silliness coefficient of the roomбпs atmosphere dropped at least 20%, Merrilyn and Kat alike assuming a proper standing position as though nothing had ever happened.

    б░You killed them,б▒ she said, to which Gen cocked an eyebrow.

    б░The moment you addressed them properly, the voices cut out,б▒ she explained. б░Man, this powerбпs dumb. Maybe quantum teleportation or whatever isnбпt so bad.б▒

    Kat nodded vigorously. б░The things I could do with teleportation,б▒ she said.

    Gen coughed. б░I guess we learned something, at least. More importantly, we should be getting a few more visitors right about now,б▒ he said.

    One of the few virtually empty walls suddenly began to turn, fa?ade falling away. The newly revealed tunnel had two occupants who promptly stumbled out of the dark- Jim and James, who they had last seen flying off towards the боBoom Roomбп. Jim panted, exhausted from flying one way and running another. б░You could have told me that they werenбпt that way.б▒

    б░Yeah, but you flew off before I could get to it,б▒ Gen retorted. Jim didnбпt object, still catching his breath. He frowned, looking around. б░So, where are they?б▒ He looked from side to side, still too out of breath to turn around and reveal the treasure trove behind him. James had no such affliction. He whirled around and gasped. б░Mother of God,б▒ he said, patting Jimбпs shoulders and pointing. Jim finally pulled himself around, and he nearly fainted when he saw what was on the walls behind him.

    Guns. Lots and lots of guns. Enough for a small army. Sure, they werenбпt the fancy kind they had grown to know and love, but there were still enough weapons to make Jim almost faint. Thin metal tubes enshrined in carefully polished local wood. Carefully crafted trigger mechanisms and sights. Magazine slots. Boxes and boxes of virtually identical magazines that lined shelves wherever the place wasnбпt loaded to the brim with explosives. Sleek, carefully proportioned боcarbineбп molds. Jim just gawked, basking in the glow of reuniting with something he had missed quite dearly missed.

    б░You guys have been away for a good while. The first batch of Saltpeter came before you guys even left. Sure, we call it the боBoom Roomбп, but besides housing Merrilynбпs Chemistry playground, it was primary constructed as a Nitrary.б▒ Gen explained. б░Charcoaling took a while, and sulfur was dumb luck. Weбпre suffering for resources, sure, but the moment we hit Pyrite, I knew it was time to work on establishing a bigger foundry.б▒

    Jim didnбпt seem to actually be listening. He was just rubbing his face on the stock of one of the hanging weapons, lost to the world. James shook his head, sighing. б░Have you told any of the other gun-nuts?б▒ He asked. Gen nodded. б░To a degree. Iбпve kept this on the down low, but I sure as hell didnбпt know how to design a M1.б▒

    Jim snapped to attention at that. б░This is an M1?б▒ he asked, entirely too excited for a боdetached from the worldбп monk. Gen pondered that for moment, distractedly answering him. б░Yes, why?б▒

    Jim was giddy. б░Thatбпs, like, vintage. The first human-made guns in the New World and theyбпre M1бпs! We skipped so many, thoughбнб▒

    Gen shrugged. б░Practicality comes first sorry. I donбпt have time to waste climbing up the tree to modern weaponry. I will admit Iбпd quite like to handle a fully-functional Modииle 1777, but it simply canбпt be done, at least for now.б▒

    The two of them looked at each-other more closely, perhaps really appraising their боenemyбп for the first time. Almost in unison, they strode to the middle of the room put their hands on the otherбпs shoulders. б░When this is all said and done, weбпre bringing it all back,б▒ Gen said. Jim nodded, resolve burning in his eyes. б░Damn right. Wonбпt even have to deal with licensing,б▒ he growled. Kat and James exchanged glances of their own, a general feeling of resignation floating through the air- just one weapon-fiend was a handful, sure, but two was a small army. Merrilyn just sort of milled about, apparently mulling over how to interrupt the scene in a grandiose enough way, while the Conduit seemed to be hoping for a quick escape before people started waving around guns in a warehouse full of bombs.

    The two nodded, content, and Gen seemed to regain a bit of his composure. б░Humph, all that asideбн I havenбпt allowed the rest in here. Ayala and company may have some guesses, but as it stands, this trove is ours, and ours alone.б▒

    Indeed, engraved into every stock was the simplistic Latin phrase б░Umbra de Praeteritumб▒, or боShadow of the Pastбп. It was a tad dramatic, but if Gen was going to be setting a trend, he needed to be at least that certain it would have an impact. Guns had been integral in the death of thousands and millions alike, but now more than ever, they were necessary.

    Their entire group assembled a natural sort of line, staring at the wall of weaponry. Their faces were a range of emotion- apathy and excitement, dread and anticipation, fear and bravado, but in the end, they could all feel the sand trickling down in the hourglass. It wasnбпt a matter of if the carbines were necessary, even, but when. They were dealing with enemies they had never encountered, of the sort that would never stop coming. Eventually, all of their moods settled into something like melancholy.

    б░Iбпm not sure if this is the right thing to do,б▒ Kat said.

    б░What do you mean?б▒ Gen asked, but really, he knew. They were about to run off to go have peace talks, armed to the teeth and ready to fight. Hell, he was actually almost hoping for that outcome.

    Kat couldnбпt really explain, though. The longer she looked at that wall, at all those faux-Carbines, at how out of place they looked in this other world, the more her stomach tied itself into knots. She just shrugged halfheartedly, letting the question hang dead in the air. The air grew more and more tense, the group subsuming back into an uncomfortable stand-off with the weaponry, until finally, Gen stepped forward.

    He gently lifted one rifle, pushing it up and off the hitch it had been mounted on. He drew it closer, resting the barrel on his shoulder, and let it hang, perching the gun like a soldier on parade. He fixed his posture, fluttered his coat, and whirled around, channeling as much enthusiasm and insistence as he could muster. б░What are you waiting for?б▒ He asked, б░Weбпve got a lot of work to do.б▒

    Slowly, they each nodded, retrieving a rifle of their own. Even the nameless girl, though she seemed squeamish at the thought. After some deliberation and a little bit of meandering, they finally left the Depot, carefully shutting it behind them. They marched, six people with six guns, each tromping their way across the bridge. Jim and Gen dragged along a huge box of cartridges and magazines behind them, but the bridge hung motionless, hardly swaying under their weight, and not at all swaying from the wind. Short of Katбпs intervention, it was quite difficult to get any sizeable gusts into the chasm, after all. They were greeted at the other side by Netya. He had been in one of the new huts constructed on Alcatraz, one of several guard posts meant to overlook the Depot rather than the prison itself.

    He looked them up and down quizzically. б░What are those?б▒

    Gen winked at the man. б░Youбпll find out soon enough. Weбпre going down,б▒ he said. The guardsman nodded, running to prepare an elevator. Naturally, this was not the obtuse, dwarf-made elevators they had seen when they arrived, but a simpler traction elevator making use of crank-driven chains that would allow the elevators to descend. It had been a huge pain in the ass to get them functional, but it was the only safe way onto or off of the hanging island now since the bridges were gone. Sure, Kat could bring him to the floor б░safelyб▒, but he doubted she could get the ammunition down.

    Hauling was boring, dirty work. Descending deeper into a pit, dragging the load back up the ramps, so on and so forth. They had fair few diversions as they moved, the others pitching in on pulling along the ammo-box simply because they were that bored. They passed fair few residents, none human, which made the trip even more grueling. Diversions and helpful hands would have at least made the trip a bit more bearable. They finished the last stretch, on the grassy plains of the Fortбпs sector at least.

    Contrary to the abyss, the Fort was chock-full of activity. Goblins popped in and out of the tall grace, hunting a group of humans who tried to keep them at bay. Gomen and Rebels formed ranks and sparred. Groups of people wearing the cityбпs standard squared off with those who didnбпt, exchanging greetings, banter, and tears alike. After all, quite a few of the Rebels had left behind friends or family. Normally, Gen would have complained about the fact they had ditched training to chat, but he wasnбпt that insensitive. In any case, the groups were broadly preoccupied, so it wasnбпt until they had dragged the box nearly half way to the fort that they were properly noticed. The moment any one individual in particular noticed them, though, they stopped to stare. It was a war of attrition- a sparring partner got distracted and froze, so the other looked to see what they were caught by, only to freeze themselves. People chatting notice someone wide-eyed and gawking, so they hope to see what was so interesting. Like that, practically the entire army was staring, or at least trying to see what was going on.

    Gen cleared his throat. б░As demanded by the Rebels, we will be making overtures to reduce bloodshed,б▒ he said, brandishing his gun and swinging it out for all to see. б░As such, all humans will be required to arm themselves with one of these weapons.б▒

    One man, an older gentleman from the rebel camp, asked what everyone seemed to be thinking. At least, what all the humans who knew precisely how deadly the weapon Gen was holding could be were thinking. б░In what way does bringing guns to the fight reduce bloodshed?б▒

    The General shrugged. б░We die less, they die more. One volley of overwhelming force and everyone- except whoever dies from those shots- go home happy.б▒

    The man opened and shut his mouth a few times like a guppy. Perhaps he hadnбпt expected such an impressively shameless response. He grunted, falling back into the fold. Some others had shaken themselves out of their stupor, especially those of Genбпs camp, simply accepting the fact their little Tyrant had walked up with a bunch of guns. Madeline, on the other hand, spoke up.

    б░Why did you make guns at all?б▒ She asked, incredulous. б░The stakes are already high. Why are you escalating? Whatбпs next, WMDs?б▒

    Gen nodded, smiling. б░Ideally, yes. Weбпve got a lot of stuff to line up, and probably at least three new generations of New World children, but with any luck, we should have enough experts to get nuclear power- and bombs- online.б▒

    She gave him her best glare, making sure to share that glare with James- who stood right next to Gen as he talked about bringing back Mutually Assured Destruction- and he promptly coughed and looked away, whistling.

    The humans were generally resolved to what came next, but the Goblins and Gomen alike were left in the dark. Ayala was the third to find her way out of the crowd. б░What are those things, then? Why are they soбн on edge?б▒ She asked, worry playing on her face. She had experienced firsthand the sorts of weapons of war Humans could create in the form of high explosives, after all. Gen grinned, properly harmless. б░Set up some targets by the Fort, please.б▒

    Ayala looked from him to the fort a few times, finally nodding, and the crowd in between their squad of six and the fort, terrified humans pitching in to drag their nonhuman compatriots out of the way. Ayala barely cleared the targets, standing off to the side. Gen could practically see her confusion from 200 yards. She gawked, looking between them and the targets, perhaps waiting for them to approach enough to get in range.

    б░Ready magazines,б▒ Gen said, and so they did.

    б░Take aim,б▒ Gen said, and so they did.

    б░Fire,б▒ Gen said, and so they did.

    The crack of gunfire rang across the grassy field, some black powder puffing from the fronts of their carbines. The smoke cleared fast, revealing the results of the first volley of Humankindбпs most reliable weapon- the firearm- in the New World. Several of the six targets had gaping holes, straw and sticks torn and lightly singed by the shell, in particular that of Gen, Jim, and Merrilynбпs targets had been hit, with Jim and Merrilyn striking lethal spots with relative ease. Gen was barely off, and he scowled. The other bullets had impacted near, and in lieu of the straw, they chipped dents in the stone walls nearby. Ayala had tipped backwards, splayed across the ground, gawking up at the now-perforated targets she had been standing next to. She scrambled away, chest heaving.

    б░I will expect at least a minimum proficiency in shooting from each Human soldier,б▒ he said. б░For now, you can return to training in groups. We will begin unloading the firearms tomorrow.б▒

    No one moved.

 Webdomain of Man: Interlude 1

    [02:03][RooDzz]: Why is it all black?

    [02:03][Beholeth]: Who invited you lol

    [02:03][Cantre11]: Youбпve got to tweak it, zooming out and in again, it worked for quite a few people.

    [02:03][Beholeth]: No spoonfeeding, weбпve got enough people involved already

    [02:04][Cantre11]: We havenбпt even hit our first puzzle yet. See if you keep saying that.

    [02:04][RooDzz]: For the record, I used to read the blog before this all started.

    [02:04][Beholeth]: Holy shit, really? What was it like before the ARG started?

    [02:04][RooDzz]: This is an ARG? I just searched the url to see if I could find out what was going on and found this chat

    [02:04][Cantre11]: Next level ARG, lots of preparation.

    [02:04][Free Parking]: If you get past the blackscreen, be prepared for a lot of butts.

    [02:04][RooDzz]: What?

    [02:04] [Free Parking]: Theyбпre all naked. Iбпm not even sure if this is legal, necessarily.

    [02:04] [Cantre11]: Greatest Ninja Survivor Island does it all the time.

    [02:04] [Free Parking]: Not like this. These actors are pretty convincing, too.

    [02:04] [RooDzz]: Whatбпs have I actually missed so far?

    [02:04] [Beholeth]: Not much. So far, itбпs been three naked people stumbling around in cave tunnels. It seems like it might be dark there, theyбпre holding hands and hugging walls.

    [02:04] [Cantre11]: Pretty sure the zoom thing is a glitch, or maybe part of a bigger puzzle.

    [02:05] [RooDzz]: I can see them now. What the fuck? That kid canбпt be an adult.

    [02:05] [Misser D]: Anyone figure out what the box is for?

    [02:05] [Cantree11]: What box?

    [02:05] [Misser D]: Thereбпs a submission box cooked into the HTML with some fucked up code. Got any professionals?

    [02:05] [LaForest]: Iбпve been looking at it pretty much the whole time. I canбпt tell how it works or what it does. I donбпt know why the parser isnбпt rejecting it, actually.

    [02:05] [Beholeth]: You still never told us what the blog was like.

    [02:05] [RooDzz]: Some girlбпs blog. She used to do photography.

    [02:05] [Free Parking]: Of what kind? Herself?

    [02:05] [RooDzz]: No lol, landscapes, sunsets, that sort of shit. I use it for backgrounds and things like that. Very rare she posted a picture with herself in it.

    [02:05] [Beholeth]: could be important. Anything you know about her?

    [02:05] [RooDzz]: Holy shit

    [02:05] [Cantre11]: What?

    [02:05] [Beholeth]: What?

    [02:05] [Free Parking]: What?

    [02:05] [Misser D]: LaForest, you figure out any way to submit anything?

    [02:05] [Beholeth]: combo breaker

    [02:05] [RooDzz]: Iбпm pretty sure that girl is the one who ran the blog.

    [02:05] [Cantre11]: Which one?

    [02:05] [RooDzz]: The one hugging the wall, right side relative to the totally-not-underage boy.

    [02:05] [LaForest]: Iбпm digging, give me a bit.

    [02:05] [Beholeth]: Bingo! Weбпve got a clue. Thanks, new guy.

    [02:05] [auger]: They are the same person.

    [02:05] [Cantre11]: Bit too early to say that, could be an actor. Like, what if this ARG is playing us? Closer look at that girl (as close as fixed cam will let me get) and she looks familiar.

    [02:05] [Beholeth]: боcloser lookбп indeed lol

    [02:05] [Cantre11]: Fuck off, the important bit is that sheбпs famous.

    [02:05] [Free Parking]: What kind of famous? E-Famous or All-Famous?

    [02:06] [Cantre11]: Itбпs the crazy girl from awhile back. Maybe this ARG is her second gig?The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    [02:06] [RooDzz]: No fucking way, I should have gotten her to б░signб▒ a photo or two.

    [02:06] [Beholeth]: Any bead on who the other two are?

    [02:06] [Free Parking]: Iбпve got nothing. Iбпll go digging through common trends. Crazy people, newly famous?

    [02:06] [Misser D]: I think this girlбпs a bit too specific for it to be боnewly famousбп. Go with боimpossible insanityбп or the like. She did a number on our psych scene, after all.

    [02:06] [RooDzz]: I was clicking around and I sort of untethered the camera.

    [02:06] [Beholeth]: Bet this guyбпs part of the ARG.

    [02:06] [Cantre11]: Canбпt disagree, there. How can you move around the camera?

    [02:06] [RooDzz]: Try clicking the corners, it inches you around.

    [02:07] [Cantre11]: Why does this work lol

    [02:07] [Beholeth]: My POV just clipped through the wall and by God there are tunnels for miles

    [02:07] [RooDzz]: I see them too. Where the hell is this place?

    [02:07] [Misser D]: Iбпve got a few hunches. Comparing it with all the tunnels Iбпve been researching, itбпs gotta be either subterranean Russia or the Esta Tunnels.

    [02:07] [Pughly]: No one told me this was a horror ARG.

    [02:07] [Beholeth]: Who are you?

    [02:07] [Pughly]: Cantre11 invited me from the general. I was gonna stay quiet and final boss it to derail just for funsies, but this is fucked up.

    [02:07] [Cantre11]: Reminder that we should move to a chatroom with user lists.

    [02:07] [RooDzz]: What do you mean бпhorror ARGбп

    [02:07] [Free Parking]: No results for the other two. Also, user lists are too modern. I like the retro feel.

    [02:07] [Cantre11]: IRCS had user lists, dumbass.

    [02:07] [Pughly]: Pan your camera into the next tunnel over, past the bend. Set up an autoclicker, by the way. If youбпre using a MNI, sensitivity to max. Itбпll hurt a bit, but youбпll need it. Good luck with this shit lol Iбпm out

    [02:07] [Beholeth]: Oh my fucking God

    [02:07] [Cantre11]: What?

    [02:08] [Cantre11]: Whereбпd everyone go? Why is it quiet?

    [02:08] [RooDzz]: This is fucked up, I had to go vomit.

    [02:08] [LaForest]: Am I missing plot? Just figured out how to use the box, though.

    [02:08] [Misser D]: Itбпs a big plant.

    [02:08] [LaForest]: Lame

    [02:08] [Misser D]: Itбпs a big plant with glowy bulbs, shitloads of spikes, and itбпs eating some naked people. Gruesomely.

    [02:08] [Cantre11]: aaaaand now Iбпm glad I didnбпt check the next hall. Iбпm about to see it one way or another though

    [02:08] [RooDzz]: Why?

    [02:08] [Cantre11]: The group is running towards the bend, they can actually see a little of the light I think.

    [02:08] [Beholeth]: Are we going to get GGбпd already, or is this supposed to happen?

    [02:08] [Misser D]: How do we use the box, forest

    [02:08] [LaForest]: LaForest. I have no idea how or why, but itбпs got a console feed.

    [02:08] [Cantre11]: They just turned the corner. Theyбпre standing and staring.

    [02:08] [Misser D]: Any idea what itбпs for?

    [02:08] [LaForest]: I sent some shit and the girl perked up. The famous one, I think.

    [02:09] [Beholeth]: Oh shit son. Think this has anything to do with the Schizophrenia?

    [02:09] [Cantre11]: Damn, that might be right. Anyone know how she described them?

    [02:09] [RooDzz]: disparate voices that said random shit.

    [02:09] [Beholeth]: and she never listened to them, just complained about them to doctors.

    [02:09] [Cantre11]: Iбпve been submitting stuff to the box over and over again. Theyбпre still stunned in place but she seems to be perking up.

    [02:09] [RooDzz]: Iбпve been doing that too. What are you guys sending?

    [02:09] [Cantre11]: б░KILL PLANTб▒

    [02:09] [Beholeth]: Do a flip

    [02:09] [RooDzz]: I kinda got the feeling Beholeth would do something dumb but are you serious?

    [02:09] [Cantre11]: I thought it might be like one of those old text RPGs

    [02:09] [Beholeth]: Hey, flips are totally valid evasive maneuvers.

    [02:09] [Misser D]: Iбпm trailing the murderplant down the new tunnel itбпs digging. Itбпs turning around.

    [02:09] [LaForest]: Letбпs all send the same shit at the same time.

    [02:09] [RooDzz]: Iбпve been sending б░Run awayб▒

    [02:09] [Cantre11]: OK

    [02:10] [Beholeth]: Haha she actually did it this is awesome

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: yeah, neat premise for an ARG-

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: We forgot to tell her to grab the other two.

    [02:10] [Misser D]: This is brutal.

    [02:10] [RooDzz]: Do the Esta Tunnels have plants that do that?

    [02:10] [Beholeth]: Maybe itбпs the radiation

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: Do you two not see the people getting broken in half?

    [02:10] [RooDzz]: I mean, itбпs really fucked up and scary, but itбпs just an ARG, right?

    [02:10] [auger]: Do not count on it.

    [02:10] [Misser D]: anyone know who боaugerбп is?

    [02:10] [Beholeth]: He said something weird before too, if anyoneбпs an ARG tool, itбпs him

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: Who are you?

    [02:10] [RooDzz]: She just ran back to the plant

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: Holy shit, stop her

    [02:10] [Free Parking]: What is she doing?

    [02:10] [auger]: Humanityбпs birthright.

    [02:10] [RooDzz]: Sheбпs drawing magic circles lol

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: Sheбпs trying to do magic? Whoбпs telling her to do that?

    [02:10] [Beholeth]: Not I

    [02:10] [Misser D]: Not x2

    [02:10] [Free Parking]: Not x3

    [02:10] [RooDzz]: Not x4

    [02:10] [Pughly]: Not x5

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: Didnбпt you боleaveбп?

    [02:10] [Pughly]: Oopsies, really wasnбпt me though

    [02:10] [LaForest]: Me neither

    [02:10] [RooDzz]: Iбпm pretty sure itбпs auger. He must have a spammer set up or something.

    [02:10] [Cantre11]: Damn, why didnбпt I think of that.

    [02:10] [LaForest]: I did, though. Iбпm sending at least five orders a second and sheбпs not even reacting now.

    [02:11] [Beholeth]: Weбпre getting choked out? Give me a moment.

    [02:11] [LaForest]: Holy shit, whereбпd you get those?

    [02:11] [Beholeth]: Donбпt worry about it lol

    [02:11] [RooDzz]: My site isnбпt responding

    [02:11] [auger]: Your petty tricks will not win the day. Behold.

    [02:11] [Beholeth]: Haha fuck, theyбпre all gone. Took months to horde, dude. Not cool.

    [02:11] [Cantre11]: Siteбпs back online. Was that you, Beholeth?

    [02:11] [Misser D]: More important things to deal with. Sheбпs screaming about боgetting out of hellбп and shit. Is this a clue?

    [02:11] [RooDzz]: Is that shaking just me?

    [02:11] [Beholeth]: I think itбпs for everyone. Even the plant is panicking.

    [02:11] [RooDzz]: Whereбпd she go? She was there and now she isnбпt.

    [02:11] [LaForest]: Box is locked. No idea how to re-open it.

    [02:11] [Cantre11]: I think weбпre offline. I just lost sight of anything, for real this time. Zooming doesnбпt help.

    [02:11] [Beholeth]: Hot damn was that a ride. Already my favorite ARG of the year, if not decade.

    [02:11] [auger]: The floodgates will open once more, in time.

    [02:11] [Cantre11]: Youбпve got some questions to answer, auger.

    [02:11] [Misser D]: Yeah.

    [02:13] [Beholeth]: heбпs gone lol stop waiting

    [02:13] [Pughly]: Iбпm pretty sure thatбпs it for today. Are we setting up a schedule/group?

    [02:13] [Beholeth]: Iбпll handle watching, just hit me up with a group invite, same user

    [02:13] [Cantre11]: sent

    [02:13] [RooDzz]: Iбпm using the same name, too. I donбпt have a clue whatбпs going on but I want in.

    [02:13] [Pughly]: I usually go by боuPuggoбп or боuPuggosбп, try those.

    [02:13] [Free Parking]: neFree3

    [02:13] [LaForest]: same name

    [02:13] [Misser D]: mausб╩r.

    [02:13] [Cantre11]: Got a feeling this is going to be a ride. Buckle up.

 031: Little people fight a little war.

    One man with one hand stood in the midst of a clearing. The newly-landed race had been busy, setting their manpower to work, setting up all sorts of basic fortifications and structures, generally deforming the jungle. Gen was out in the open, uncomfortably so, position just right to have a good line of sight with the encampment. He was armed only with a few of his trusty daggers and short-swords, and every moment made him a tad more nervous. He had expected the invaders to come out to meet him immediately, but instead, he had been standing in eyeshot for a good while, to no avail. Not a single envoy came out to meet him, not a single spell slung his way, no stray arrows hoping to poke him new holes.

    At this rate, the sun would set. The plan had called for precarious timing, with any engagements lit up by twilight. If necessary, they could stall for nightfall and evacuate any and all VIPs, namely as many Humans as possible. At this rate, theyбпd have to start over again tomorrow. On the long list of possibilities and dangers Gen had thought up, боenemy truantбп had never even ranked among the top twenty. He eyed the base inquisitively. It wasnбпt especially impressive yet, but it could be in time. They dug a small ditch perimeter, lining their side of the mini-moat with simplistic Cheval de Frise. Another layer within were short walls and a drawn gate which had been left wide open, and that sheltered guard towers that made the vertices of the square encampment. He could see the tops of the towers, apparently devoid of the guards themselves, and through the gate, he could see a sliver of the interior. In particular, the teleporter sat at something approximating the center of the whole fort, followed by the zeppelin-like aircraft, which was moored near the back wall.

    It was appealing symmetrically, sure, but it was a joke in Genбпs eyes. He had seen records of thousands of encampments and their layout over the years, and those simply had tents and medical hubs. For the horned men to place something as insanely powerful as the teleporter or as integral as the zeppelin in plain sight of the gate placed the little fort near the top of his боworst ofбп lists. The City of Man was laid out poorly enough, but these guys had no excuse. They very clearly understood the fundamentals of what they set out to accomplish, even if they so readily abandoned them. He couldnбпt help but feel let down a little. Depending on how powerful they actually were, it was quite possible this whole engagement would be a curb-stomp.

    Any drama that he had conjured up had long since faded by the time one of the enemies within the fort actually noticed him, pointing and gawking. They ran off to one side, and Gen took careful note of the direction. The commanding officers were apparently somewhere near the back-left-hand of the little fort. It could have been bait, but the soldier seemed appropriately panicked. After something like half an hour of standing and waiting to get noticed, he was finally getting the proper amount of attention.

    A small guard of the horned men assembled, guiding one with particularly shiny armor. Gen took a closer look as they approached. They were all in the ball-park of two and a half meters tall and well-toned if not muscular. While they were broadly humanoid, he doubted heбпd get them mixed up for a regular person. Aside from their size, distinctive features like being literally red and having any number of horns- ranging from one to four- were easy things to spot. They stopped some distance away from him, something like midway between the fort and his personage. Gen desperately resisted the urge to give his troops the order to shoot. Apparently, the horned men had no issue with dragging themselves out into the open.

    The de-facto shiny leader looked Gen up and down, inquisitively. б░You are the Warden, yes?б▒ He asked, voice deep and rough enough to grind the Commons into something almost unrecognizable. Gen simply nodded, bowing slightly. This particular misunderstanding was to his advantage under a number of situations. He took in what he had just learned: The horned men knew who Ayala was, but not what she looked like, what the Gomen were, but not the specifics of their racial traits, and the horned men werenбпt just ready to drag themselves out into the open, but in fact ready to come out and talk to the Warden.

    The big man grunted, nodding in something like a bow. б░I apologize for intruding upon yourбн territory?б▒ He looked about. б░I was under the impression that the Kaenid race were entrenched here.б▒

    Gen tried hard not to sweat or stagger. Quite unlike Ayala, he had no idea how the horned people got so much information, where they got it from, or how it was propagated. In retrospect, sending her out to meet them would have probably been a better idea. He settled on shrugging noncommittally. б░Iбпm afraid things have changed over recent years.б▒

    The big man raised his eyebrows. б░I must apologize,б▒ he spat out боapologizeбп sound like an insult, б░our communication crystals have been dead for a good while, though you wouldnбпt have been likely to notice out here. We were sent on short order.б▒

    Gen sighed, bowing slightly. б░We are currently the leading force in our humble section of the forest,б▒ he said, humble as he could muster. б░You never did say what led you to encamp here?б▒

    He was met with a short grunt. б░We were supposed to perform reconnaissance and detail on a new race. The big shots want it contained or migrated. Evidently, it wasnбпt meant to be dumped out into the backwater.б▒ The shiny-plated troop leader actually had a moment of genuine reflection, genuinely apologetic. б░I do not mean to insinuate this demesne is a backwater. We will not intrude any longer than absolutely necessary.б▒

    Apparently even if he did not respect the peoples ofбн wherever they were, they did respect the land and the control the б░Gomenб▒ exerted. At the same time, Gen was quite a bit more concerned with which new race he was talking about боmigratingбп, so that thought was only of secondary importance. б░Do you happen to mean the Humans?б▒

    The big man nodded rapidly, suddenly serious. б░Have you encountered them? The orders we received characterized them as highly dangerous.б▒

    Gen shrugged. б░Can you give a more specific description? We have a few боhumansбп in holding cells and touring our Walled City as боambassadorsбп, but I am unsure of if they are one in the same. They have been decidedly harmless, at least compared to our troops.б▒

    The man straightened his back, at his full height and attaining a certain regal demeanor that was far more fitting of his position than the relaxed one he had been exhibiting until this point. б░I am afraid I have not been giving you the respect you are due. If you are capable of containing or controlling these боhumansбп, your race might be fit for re-evaluation.б▒

    He bowed slightly, making real eye-contact for the first time. б░They have been described as destructive,б▒ Gen noted that they blew up great portions of a century-old city within a night, check, б░highly vindictive,б▒ and their actions had been nothing short of that in dealing with the Kaenid, check, б░and of great technological advantage compared to the desired stature of the region.б▒ They had spent months revitalizing, reworking, and upgrading the city and its soldiers, check. These men had come to боcontainбп or боmigrateбп them. Apparently, боMigrationбп was a great honor of some kind, but Gen had a bad feeling about the exact context of the term.

    б░I believe our two боHumansбп may be one in the same. They are still our guests and prisoners, at least for the time being. Will they be in particular danger?б▒ Gen asked, hoping to keep the worry out of his voice.

    The big man hesitated, before shrugging noncommittally. б░You do not want them to be out here too long. They will be in precisely as much danger as any other race to undergo migration of any kind.б▒ He shifted his weight uncomfortably. б░To be quite honest, the orders went all the way down the ladder. I do not know if the First Ones ordered it, but it may well have been. There is a good chance that this does not end well for your боguestsбп, or any who ally with them.б▒

    Gen sighed. б░I was quite worried that would be the case. Is there any situation in which neither migration or containment need occur?б▒

    He shook his head. б░I am afraid not. It is in your best interest-б░

    Gen threw a hand in the air, the big horned manбпs eyes going wide at the sudden movement. The fringes of the forest were fraught with a whirl of motion as tens and tens of soldiers popped out of the surroundings. Gen drove his hand down, and the decidedly human shapes leveled their guns, firing as quickly as they could hope to. The man in the middle wheeled backwards, but his flank was far quicker to respond. They only had time to leap to his defense, and as the first volley of the murderous shells made impact, bullets whizzed by Gen, making dent after dent of into their fancy, standardized armor. Some of the more careful, well-trained shots met flesh, cutting deep into a barely guarded joint or muscle. They were all dead before the second volley began, but just as Gen began to relax, the leader of the group growled. He could hardly hear through the ringing on his unprotected ears, but to his surprise, he could feel it.

    He flung his arms out, and an immaterial bubble spread around him. It shoved the corpses away, throwing them feet and yards across the clearing. The second volley pinged off, bouncing dangerously near to Gen and away in every direction. Tiny dents were made in the shell, but the man was largely safe. He stopped only a moment to send боAyalaбп an enraged snarl before sprinting away, waving desperately at the soldiers within the fort. They began to panic, moving to get the fort into a more defensible state. Gen waved and signaled, hoping they would make it in time.

    Goblins swarmed from the trees, hauling ass into the clearing and diving into the small moat. They each threw little yellowed blocks at the fort, tucking themselves into the moat. It hadnбпt been part of the Plan, but Gen had to be impressed by their improv. The Goblins had become far better at coping with unknown situations over the course of his career as their боChieftainбп. Gomen with damnably strong arms popped out of the brush, hurling alcohol-soaked, clay-cooked cans they had lit. Some throws went awry, panicked Goblins hoping to roll out the fire that sparked on their unguarded skin and clothes, but many made their mark. A small sea of flames hit the fort, lighting both it- and the fuses on the explosives the Goblins had prepared. A chain of small explosions surrounded the fort, and the impromptu walls erected around it were promptly reduced to ash and dust- revealing the largely unharmed soldiers within. A few had tried to climb the guard towers, and those unlucky few lay rolling and panicked within, but many had been more cautious.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The third volley of bullets rained down the moment the walls were down, but the horned men had actually taken precautions. Small groups of three huddled within bubbles, two spear-wielding soldiers escorting one боmageбп. The soldiers in charge of casting out the glowing shields were plenty pre-occupied, faces in varying contortions ranging from боmildly constipatedбп to боtwisted in painбп, contrasting strongly the calm demeanor of their leader. He seemed relaxed, or at least unperturbed, since боincredibly angryбп did not fit the description of боrelaxedбп, and his bubble extended far enough to cover nearly twelve troops. The gunfire bounced harmlessly away, at best ricocheting back and forth between the shields rapidly until the shell was ground to dust.

    Gen processed a few things in quick succession. Firstly, he was still out in the open, which wasnбпt actually something he had contemplated in his plan. Honestly, he thought the guns would knock out the soldiers outright. It kind of made sense that a race sent to боcontainбп Humanity, which was broadly considered боtechnologically advancedбп, would be able to handle these sorts of projectiles. Still, it hadnбпt factored into his plans. Second, this race of horned men was in fact a боmagic raceбп. Not all of them, or even most, seemed to be as attuned to doing their selected type of magic as their leader was, but they were still all magical. Thirdly, and building on the second, the enemy troops didnбпt appear to have any projectile weapons. Around the time he finished processing all that, the horned men sheltered within the protective bubbles raised their hands, and spiraling script crawled down their arms, coalescing on their fingertips.

    Gen barely had time to shout б░Returning fire!б▒ before diving to the side. Beams of force whizzed by where he had been standing moments before, poking angry red holes in the picturesque scenery in the distance. The Goblins only had time to get out of the ditch and start running before the enemy shot at them, several of the poor green creatures expiring nearly instant, flame spreading from the wound that marked where they had been hit. The Human gunmen and Gomen foot soldiers fared better, breaking line of sight using shrubbery or dodging behind and under any protection the jungle offered. Still, some were hit, and flames began to spread. Gen scrambled to his feet, watching the crowd intently to see if heбпd be hit, but they seemed to be боreloadingбп. Wherever these soldiers had come from, they hadnбпt learned the value of staggering their fire.

    б░Go for attrition,б▒ he shouted, frantically choreographing troop movements to compensate for the change of field. б░Mages at the ready!б▒ Gen dragged out his own power, simply augmenting his ability to run. He hit something like autopilot, focusing more on the state of the battle. A volley of bullets sang from one piece of the clearing that hadnбпt yet been soaked in eerie flame, forcing the bubble-soldiers to focus their attention in one direction. In another, Goblins fired crossbow bolts from branches. The horned men started to expand outwards, spreading out to focus on different directions. The enemy general focused on Gen in particular, mumbling orders and looking quite conspicuously in his direction. Another volley hit, this time from the complete opposite direction of where the majority of their troops now looked.

    The goal of the battle would be to run them out of mana before their jungle cover burned down. Failing that, they needed to make sure the enemy was stranded. Gen gestured, finally ordering the mages into action. One in particular, the Gardener, was coming in handy. He had soaked up power from their setting, forcing a vine to quietly grow and uncoil long in one direction- towards the center of their camp. It yanked at the coils and cords that were plugged into the enemiesбп teleporter as soon as he gave the order, dragging the magical powersource back towards the junglesбп edge at some speed. The forces of the City of Man cheered, a roar of triumph that set the enemy on edge. Shots rang out of the forest, but the horned men had finally prepared their next return-fire. Gen had to duck and weave a few bolts, anticipating more shots than he actually received, but they were in fact directed more towards the jungle. Most went towards the source of the magically manipulated vine, indeed, some firing at the vine itself. The rest shot for the gunners especially, largely ignoring the Goblins and their persistent crossbow fire.

    The mages were lucky. The thicket was burned to ash by the magical shots, revealing a thin, stone-made fa?ade. The stone fa?ade blocked the brunt of the shots, magical reinforcement by Elson, the resident Architect, shielding them from most of the damage. His supply of mana finally dried up, revealing the small platoon of mages at least. Only one unfortunate soul was struck- one of Merrilynбпs programmers, no less- and while he died quite horribly, Gen couldnбпt help but feel relieved. At the same time, Elsonбпs cover wouldnбпt spare them next time. Attrition meant losses on both side, but to lose their mages felt like it would be too much. Sure, they werenбпt incredibly useful now, but what about in the future?

    The gunners werenбпt as lucky. Quite a few people died, and the horned men gave out their own triumphant cry, finally finding a footing for their morale. Gen couldnбпt allow that- if they got any more organized, there would be trouble. He finally reached the junglesбп cover, a patch that hadnбпt yet been set alight, but before he ducked in, he gave a few more orders. A few waves aimed at the mages, ordering them to scatter. They happily obliged, running in every direction. The next was one he could only enunciate in words. б░Shoot their ship,б▒ he ordered in English, practically screaming. Only the leader seemed to react, panicking and whirling around. Before he could enable whatever protections, they had for their oversized balloon, the brutal song of gunfire tore through the air, finding purchase not in soldiers, but in leather and wood. The ship screamed, air and helium escaping from its cage at great speed. The horned men faltered, horrified. The sudden realization that they were both unable to teleport out or get reinforcements and unable to fly out of the боbackwaterбп was enough to make some falter. A few of the less talented shield-projecting soldiers failed, losing concentration, and their protection slipped. Gen couldnбпt see their death, but he could hear it, bullets finally meeting something squishy or metallic instead of the impermeable shield they had been dealing with.

    By his measure, the majority of magazines had something like 11 shots left. They had spare magazines on hand, but if at all possible, conserving ammunition was ideal. He ducked and weaved through the trees and bushes, snatching up one of the backup guns they had planted. He peaked, finding an appropriate hole in the canopy and brush through which to spot the army. They were hunkering back, losing what little ground they had gained. At the same time, they were still lethal. The majority of the magic-blaster-guys were still alive, and they were ready to fire again, lifting their arms. Gen was far enough it was hard to hear, but he could see the enemy general shouting orders and pointing, likely telling them where to fire.

    The light-bolts shot out, and Gen dropped from the treebranch he had been perched on. They had given no indication he had been spotted, but that didnбпt mean it was safe to just lounge about. Sure enough, a particularly large one pierced the bark of the tree where he had been moments before. Gen was out of the clearing now, so he had no real way of knowing how many had been killed by this volley of magic. He quite hoped they had the good sense to spread out, but it was never safe to assume. He moved, hoping to encounter another group, but flames had spread quite thoroughly around the segment of jungle he had taken shelter in, perhaps by design. The horned man seemed quite set on making sure at least Gen would never see the next day. Indeed, the sun was beginning to set in earnest, falling gently towards the horizon.

    Gen ran for the clearing, gun in hand. The clearing had started to taste fire too, smoldering remains of fort and jungle around it both contributing to the unilateral and encroaching wall of flame. To be absolutely fair, he had assumed a rainforest wouldnбпt have been very flammable when adding боMolotov Cocktailsбп to his roster of weaponry, but the environment was quite a bit different in the New World versus what he was used to. It was subtly different in some ways, and dramatically in others. In any case, the bubble-troops were still largely intact. The volleys of bullets he had organized were now replaced by stray bullets shot from every direction, which was actually along the lines of what he would have hoped for. In any case, the majority of the humans had survived, which was an acceptable outcome. The Goblins and Gomen had apparently retreated, leaving behind only the corpses of the few and unfortunate who had been hit. Gen growled. If they were enacting Plan E4, theyбпd need to hide, but they were still supposed to leave at least a few people in eye-shot to take orders to the larger group.

    He carefully took aim, staring down the barrel. Gen couldnбпt spot any unguarded soldiers, which meant he would likely simply contribute to the suppressing fire they had defaulted to. Before he could pull the trigger, though, a shape rose through the sky. He followed it up, watching as it unfurled to its full height. His gun fell limply at his side as he simply watched in awe. He had encountered something like this before, nearly two years prior.

    It was a Gorgon Bug. It wasnбпt just any Gorgon Bug, though. This боbugбп couldnбпt be compared with the tiny specimen they had fought before. The other one was a branch-coasting shadow in the night, while this thing was more like a herald of the night, hoping desperately to blot out the sun. The other was a боwormбп, while this one was so massive that it defied explanation. Infinite flagellum formed a massive crown, enshrining its bizarre, mosquito-like head, each individual tendril at least two meters long. Each individual leg on the giant creatureбпs worm-like, centipedal frame was huge, flittering through the air, searching for ground as the huge monster cast itself into the air. Much like the first one they had encountered, the way it looked down at the clearing reminded Gen of a cobra waiting to strike, but given the scale, it was more like watching an angry god prepare to smite them all. He had an uncomfortable feeling that it was looking at him, too, a feeling he couldnбпt quite shake.

    The Gorgon Bug hung in the air, and as time passed, what few soldiers still trying to shoot at each-other finally noticed the massive creature hanging so far overhead. As it swayed mesmerically through the sky, almost all of the horned menбпs focuses failed in unison- barring only their talented leader, though he looked just as terrified as the rest- but not one human gunner took advantage. Indeed, the battle was over, at least that much was certain.

    For just that moment, all was still.

 032: Happy soldiers.

    Stillness does not last forever. Moments can be frozen in time, but just as important as the scene set by any given instant is the action that follows it. In this case, as time began anew, the stillness was broken by laughter. At first it was just Gen. He laughed in such a way that you could mistake him for having gone insane, a vigorous and undulating laugh that was ill-suited for his general demeanor. His laughter was joined by others, one by one by one, human voices that contributed to the cacophony with their own unique take on comedy. Everyone had their own voice, their own laugh, but no matter how confused or bewildered they seemed to be by their own humor, they had joined in Genбпs crazed glee. The Gorgon Bug was still there, silently swaying through the sky, so tranquil that you could almost forget that it was likely planning to eradicate them all. It looked like it was closer than it had been before, even more massive, and it was quite possible the creature was gently closing in on them.

    The leader of the horned man looked between the two, spinning to gawk at the giggling army scattered through the burning underbrush and to look at the looming horror coming ever-closer. His troops, the many that remained at least, looked similarly confused and horrified. б░Whatбпs so funny?б▒ He shouted, almost angrily. б░Have you all gone mad?б▒

    The laughter never faltered, but Gen could feel eyes fall on him in particular, as though asking боwhy precisely are we laughing?бп For a moment, he wasnбпt certain, but then it hit him, and he would have choked if he cackled any harder. б░Itбпs just that you came prepared for a backwater,б▒ he said, gasping for air, б░and now youбпve got it!б▒ Horror dawned on the horned manбпs face, and he whirled around to look back at the Gorgon Bug. It loomed, indeed drawing ever-closer to the clearing where they had fought their trivial little battle. They were all going to die, and for some reason, the crowd of humans seemed to find that even funnier. The cacophony went from an unfocused mass, a group exercise in боfollowing the leaderбп (namely the General) to something far more genuine, almost sharp. The setting sun couldnбпt conceal the glint of need in their eyes, the desperate need for someone to guide them out of danger they had been cast into at no fault of their own. His thoughts wandered, inevitably settling on the simple concept of боimprovбп. He wasnбпt quite sure if any amount of improv could save them from the bug that loomed over the horizon, but heбпd have to try.

    Just as quickly as the cacophony had begun, it stopped. A gentle song interrupted it, sung without words but with the most beautiful voice they had ever heard. It was a serenade of sorts, and once again, the mass of humans felt a sense of unity. They were all together, listening to the same song, feeling the same (magically imbued) effects. A sort of energy had formed from the past moments spent going insane with laughter, and it was channeled by the singing. The song was slow but strong, hitting a rhythm that seemed to hit the same beats as the giant insect swaying through the sky, like it had been transformed from a massive monster into a metronome, giving the time to the orchestra. The humans began to sway, and even the horned men standing in the clearing and the wreckage of the fort began to join in. Now, the unity was not the mad ravings or comedy of a single race, but something that began to transcend such petty lines. Normally, the Songstress might have run her reserves dry, but she seemed to draw ever deeper, casting out a powerful music of the like she had never sang before. The songбпs rhythm never faltered, but the tone changed, slowly escalating from the calming effect Madelinehad been trying to produce. It grew, and grew, and turned into an angry, operatic solo that fit more readily into a metal ballad than the relaxing jazz tones she had set out to spread. She hadnбпt realized quite how angry the fact some stupid fucking bug showed up and botched their little plan had made her, howthe fight had been coming to an end and yet it had arrived, almost certainly intent on casting them into bi-partisan bloodshed. Her budding fury reached a crescendo and she lost her energy almost immediately after, nearly tumbling to the jungle floor. The man beside her caught her arm, dragging her back and leaning her against the trunk.

    That man was James, and he set out to harness the intensity that had been building. The swaying had become something like a frantic marching, with everyone as tense as they could manage and absolutely buzzing with simple rage targeted at a singular source- the huge snake-bug-monster on the horizon. He stepped forth, leaping into the air in a distinctly inadvisable way. He caught the attention of quite a few people- which was good. They faltered for a moment, and he leveraged their energy. They were suddenly all focused on him, and their enthusiasm seemed to feed his power. More people looked at him as he flew, as though he was magnetic and their heavy, furious eyes were metal. As he began to fall from his impromptu leap, Jim caught him- just as he willed- and the troops began to march. More and more people fell into his snare, and a great clamber rose. It wasnбпt a sort physical noise, but a more spiritual one, a sound with inherently magical qualities. The clamber was the sound of several hundred hearts beating at once. It was the sound of several hundred eyes boring holes into James, of several hundred bodies turning their minds to stone, engraved with a single promise: боIf it is the last thing I do, and it very well might be, I will see that monstrosity to its deathбп. James breathed the energy, felt it. His feet touched ground safely, nearly at the middle of the clearing, Jim descending carefully at his flank. Gen had at some point fell in step- he wasnбпt quite sure when, himself- and the three of them stood staring up at the beast.

    Gradually, more and more people entered the clearing, staring just as intensely at the oncoming threat. The horned men they had been fighting just moments prior were no exception, their panic and worries subsumed totally into grim determination. They growled, voices as one, and the Gorgon Bug seemed to quiver. While it couldnбпt be said that the monster was scared, it certainly changed the relaxed, unconcerned crawling towards them it had been doing into a significantly fast, more deliberate gait. Its head dipped a little, lowering more of the seemingly endless array of creepy little legs it possessed to the ground. Gen had a lot of things he wanted to do and say, but he realized that they simply didnбпt feel important. He noted passively that his mind was his mind and it was his own, but Jamesбп influence had tampered with how his body took his thoughts into account. It was like going through a middle-man, where the corrupt bastard only passed on the letters with a message that fit his own needs. Which was frankly inconvenient, because James was being dramatic rather than practical. For instance, gathering them all in the clearing was a good way to get squished the moment the monster reached its full pace. With any luck, he figured, the creature wouldnбпt be quite as fast as the little one they had fought before.

    James was a casualty of rage. He didnбпt feel much need to think or feel things otherthan absolute hatred for the bug that was charging towards them. It would be on them in any second, and he should probably have given more significant боordersбп, but it was hard to think. He had a feeling that he and Madeline would need to have a б░talkб▒ once this was said and done about singing full blast while he was right next to her, but that feeling was quickly subsumed into fury, like most others. One that wasnбпt was his magic, which still felt every bit as real as it always did. He could feel each twist and turn, each tendril of power that dug deep into the brains of all those unfortunate enough to be snared in his web. It had been so easy this time to take them all over, as focused as they were. Only one fly wriggled, trying to free itself, and he could feel their own mana playing tug-of-war with his control. He realized that it was Gen, standing right next to him, and in a lucky moment of clarity through the haze of emotion that ensnared him, he let the boy free.

    Gen felt full faculties return to him. His emotions hadnбпt changed, but the analytical bit of his brain that had been tweaked and pulled off of his body had come back. He pushed out wave after tiring wave of his own magic, hoping to disrupt the stranglehold James had. Not a moment too soon, the crowd started to react.

    б░Spread out!б▒ He shouted, to which the army hurriedly scattered. Jim reacted immediately, his own mental strength more than strong enough to help escape Jamesбп dominance. James himself, though, was immobile, still furious. Gen dragged him away, and not a moment too soon. The Gorgon Bug had finally reached the clearing, slamming its entire massive head and mane down like a hammer onto the ground they had been standing defiantly on. Gen scrambled, helping James- who had finally begun to stir- get towards cover. The Jungle had finally almost totally taken to the flames, and as the sun shrank out of sight, the flickering light seemed to grow brighter and brighter. The army ran through the fire in any which way, hoping to find somewhere not yet burning. The Gorgon Bug lifted itself off of the ground it just pounded its face into, tentacle mane lashing in every direction. Tiny flecks of dangerous ruby-red liquid flew off of the tendrils, encouraging Gen to haul ass towards the nearest not-yet-impassible thicket. James tapped his shoulders though, leaning against him.

    б░Madeline, passed out in a tree,б▒ he said, still nearly delirious with fury. It was a small miracle that he had enough cohesive thought to remember the poor woman he had left behind.

    Gen groaned. б░Which way?б▒ He spat, still running and pulling James along. James pointed- off to the side. They would need to take a serious detour, but it would have to be done. Gen didnбпt plan on giving this bug any more casualties than he had to. The Gorgon Bug itself wasnбпt happy, skittering along the ground and waving its head in any which direction. It seemed to have lost track of Gen and James, insectoid head passing not but inches over their own on at least a few occasions. The fastest runners had escaped the clearing, finding their positions, and the very first shot was fired. It hit the tough exoskeleton of the massive bug, which writhed to look at the direction from where the gunshot came. It coiled, swiping its massive head through the trees, uncomfortably close hitting the gunner and quite likely to have hit some stray humans or horned men. Gen tried not to look, both for his own sanity- rage swelled with each casualty, real or imagined- and to let him focus on the immediate objective, rescuing the Songstress. He and James ran, taking advantage of the creatureбпs distraction to sprint along noisily towards the bit of jungle James had pointed out.

    Jim had not run for the Jungle and he had not escorted Gen and James. Jim was far too busy being a badass for that. He flew far above the creature, spear in hand, earning a birdбпs eye view of the situation. He tried to ignore fact that the creature was a lot longer than they gave it credit for, instead focusing on finding an opportunity to strike. That opportunity was unfortunately when it swung its massive head through the jungle. He dove, at first at the creatureбпs soft-seeming mane of tentacles, and then at its harder-to-hit compound eyes when he realized that the tendrils were turning loads of things to crystalline sculptures, including unlucky people and even plants. The wind whistled in his ears as he and the spear he had borrowed from Genбпs armory shrieked downwards from the sky, practically cleaving it in two. The creature hardly had time to notice him before he struck, wrangling desperately about.

    Timothy had run for the Jungle because he was no badass. He was a normal guy who had been dumped into the New Would which, unfortunately, tended to weed out normal guys. To compensate, he had sacrificed his morals and all of the fucks he could possibly give to stay with the General and his little city, in hopes that heбпd grow to be something greater. In some ways, it had paid off. In many, it hadnбпt. He missed being home, more than anything, and he missed it almost all of the time. At this moment, though, he didnбпt miss home. It was counter-intuitive, really. The few times he enjoyed the New World were when he was against all odds. Fighting a Spinosaurus had been the highlight of his last боyearбп, and now this? More importantly, he had a perfect view. If he had a camera, heбпd have taken a picture. The scene belonged on a billion album covers and in just as many history books.

    He had run to the jungle on the opposite side of the clearing, lined up with what heбпd consider the left side of the fort. That meant he got a great view of the terrifying swing the giant bug made at his compatriots, that he could see the bizarre petrification that anything hit by the creatureбпs tendrils underwent. More importantly, Timothy got a perfect view of the creatureбпs panic. An angel of death descended on it from above, a pale man in ornate robes diving spear-first for its face. He could see the moment that it realized it had fucked up. Bam. It didnбпt have time to get entirely clear of the devastating blow, but he could tell that it had a good shot at moving itself out of the way. It began to move, preparing to evade...

    Somewhere else entirely, a young man was taking aim. He was scared as hell, but unknowingly, unthinkingly, he had readied and aimed his carbine. He had burnt through almost all the ammo in the боbig fightбп, wasting all but one of his shots, but for some reason he just knew this was what it was meant for, that he had to take the shot. Nervous, he pulled the trigger, but the gun clicked, no dice. The Gorgon Bug was swinging out of the way, trying to escape the Cultivator''s lethal spear strike. Timothy panicked, squeezing the trigger over and over, so certain that he had to take the shot. Click, click, click- fire! The bullet exploded from his gun, launching him backwards- Timothy had already thrown himself off-balance in his desperation, and he simply hadn''t had time to care. From the ground he watched the bullet fly, unusual clarity, like slow-motion, watching the revolving bullet jetstraight for the massive insect. The bullet hit its exoskeleton, and under almost any other circumstance it would have been totally ineffectual- he was devestated, his gut had lied to him, feelings deceived him- but this was not just any circumstance. In a near one-in-a-million, the bullet had hit its mark.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Jim had been worried. He had seen the creature move with insane speed, and mentally he prepared himself for the worst, fora heroic sacrifice in the counterattack. At the last moment, right before the bug cleared itself, one itty bitty little bullet dinked the creature, and it froze. He didnбпt have a clue who shot the bullet, nor could he be aware of the fact that it had struck a subcutaneous nervous cluster, but nonetheless the momentary halt bought Jim the tenth of a second he needed to tag the insect. The spear began to bow as it met hard exoskeleton, but with a sickening crunch, it found its way through, driving rapidly through goopy flesh. Firmly embedding itself deeply into the side of the bugбпs insectoid б░faceб▒, Jim held onto the spear tight, using the pole as leverage to stand. Feet firmly planed, Jimjumped, throwing himself away from the insect as hard as he could, a diagonal arc off into the trees. He could hear a cheer raise from below as he soared past, though he hardly had time to care- the hard part about gymnastics was always sticking the landing.

    The Gorgon Bug thrashed, desperate to shake off or crush whatever had injured it. More gunshots pinged off of it, and it grew even more frantic, until finally, it stopped. It cocked its head back, lifting itself back into the air. The creature scanned the surroundings for threats. Quite a few humans had climbed trees, perched high to get a better shot- which exposed them more readily to its glare. The creature didnбпt slam down this time, however. Considering the trees, it might have impaled itself, and it was already tired of getting impaled just from the spear alone. Instead, it leveled its head slowly and charged at full speed. The Gorgon Bug was slow at first, but it accelerated rapidly, individual legs skittering along fast enough it was hard to tell where they were at any given time.

    The gunners were well aware of its approach, but they didnбпt run. No amount of running would save them, after all. They had no more than seconds before the insectoid freight train barreled into them. They greeted the beast with a roar, staring down the oncoming threat, and the Gorgon Bug obliged. Trees crumpled under the massive creatureбпs weight. It charged through the fire, entirely unperturbed, and the unfortunate humansбп bodies were no different. Whether they were tossed through the air like a ragdoll, frozen by a swipe of the creaturesбп tendrils, or crushed against the nearest tree, there were no survivors.

    Gen could only watch as the creature charged. It was cutting a huge new hole in the jungle, bordered with disgustingly crystalline trees and corpses. The Gorgon Bug just charged and charged, dragging along the rest of its massive body. It never seemed to end, still trailing diagonally through the clearing to the site of its most recent massacre. The speed wasnбпt as fast as the first Gorgon Bug they fought, but it was still impressive for anything that big to move swiftly at all. He had escorted James to Madeline, and with that out of the way, he was about ready to do some monster hunting. In some ways, it almost felt like a natural state of affairs. For a General, he did spend quite a bit of time fighting the things that go bump in the night.

    He ran into the clearing, twisting at his hook. With some effort, it popped out. He grew nearer to the bug, whipping out a very particular dagger, and he sunk it into the prosthesis and twisted. It snapped into place. He pulled out a short-sword, in particular a sturdy one that Goblin caravaners had obtained from a distant civilization their little city hadnбпt even encountered yet. Needless to say, anywhere that could handle basic alloying was high up on Genбпs боto doбп list.

    He dragged the blade along the Gorgon Bugбпs carapace. Holding it as an angle, his sword thudded and bumped along with every chink in its exoskeletal armor. Gen waited until he felt confident on the timing and shoved the sword into the creature as deeply as he could. Twisting it for good measure, he held onto the blade, pulling himself up and bouncing just high enough to sink the dagger on his arm into the same gap he had plunged the sword into. In an instant, he had gone from being on the ground to riding along on the bug, albeit while contorted in an uncomfortable position. He coasted along, scenery rapidly changing from deforested clearing to crystalline jungle.

    Gen tried to lever his dagger, pushing hard to try to pry off the natural armor of the bug. If they could get any openings to attack, itбпd dramatically increase the likelihood of survival, so he resigned himself to doing the dirty work. Sadly, the creature was sturdy, refusing to let go of its plate. He would have to peel it off, making his way around both ends of the plate, which wouldnбпt be very likely. So, he just coasted along, waving to confused spectators as he passed by. The creature hadnбпt gone in a straight line, and after a while, there was a bend. He shoved the dagger a little deeper the moment its боmusclesбп started to flex, and the Gorgon Bug rumbled, undulating slightly as though to shake him off. He got its attention, at least.

    Eventually, he glided back into the clearing, which was as expected. What wasnбпt quite боas expectedбп was that he immediately started gaining altitude. The bug twisted and heaved, pulling itself back into the air, perching for its next strike- with no consideration for the little person on its back. Gen desperately tried to pull himself free, but by the time he got his dagger-hand out of the tensing боmusclesбп, he was at least four stories in the air, which was at least four stories too high for his squeamish stomach. He free-fell, rushing to force himself into a recovery position, but to his surprise, the descent was gentle, almost like he was falling on air.

    б░Just like old times!б▒ An entirely too delighted voice called from the ground. Kat stood in the clearing, waving her arms about like she was orchestrating the air. Gen laughed, relieved. б░You didnбпt have fancy magical powers back then.б▒

    She giggled. б░When are you going to use and abuse your own боfancy magical powersбп?б▒

    He groaned, still laying on the ground (uncomfortably close to a giant murderous insect). б░Provided the Gomen havenбпt run right the fuck off, Iбпll give the signal as soon as I think weбпve got this thing immobile.б▒

    A heavy roar sounded out in the distance. б░Immobile, you say?б▒ An all too familiar booming voice called. Gen had nearly forgotten them entirely- the horned men and their leader had gathered in a particular segment of the jungle, and as ragged as they looked, all of the ones with arm-cannon tattoos seemed ready to fire. They took aim, shiny-plated leader directing them carefully. Gen rolled to his feet, pulling Kat along with him, taking off for the Jungle. The Gorgon Bug noticed the vulnerablemass of humanoids too late, turning to face them just before they fired. Bolts of that dangerous, immaterial force soared through the air, spreading out like a volley of arrows. Quite a few went up towards its head, instead striking the dangerous tentacle mane it kept waving around. The Gorgon Bug roiled, shaking out the flame with the crystallizing acid it possessed. The other bolts struck a variety of places, but most especially concentrated around its seemingly endless legs. Quite a few of the legs popped off, socket spewing putrid yellow liquid for just a moment. The creature slammed angry at the impudent humanoids that wounded it, bouncing off of an array of newly formed bubble-shields. The horned men seemed to groan under the pressure, and when the Gorgon Bug reared back to try again, they scattered.

    Gen quietly saluted their effort. If they could do that a couple more times, there might be a chance in hell of not just getting away, but killing the huge monster. He ran for the thicket, only to realize that the fire was getting too thick and dangerous to traverse. The only way боoutбп was where the huge creature had snuffed out the flames, like the spot it just crashed down on. Gen ran, dragging Kat along, only to realize she was pulling him. б░Iбпm not a one-trick pony,б▒ she said, yanking him towards the nearest patch of flame. Suddenly, the nearby flames all snuffed at once, and Kat fell limp. Gen caught her, carefully lifting her onto the flat of his dagger arm and cradling her with his still-functional right hand.

    Running through somewhere that just stopped burning wasnбпt comfortable or safe, but it was manageable. The heat pervaded but the smoldering foliage didnбпt catch, deprived of the impressive flames that had been keeping the burning afloat as fuel sources diminished. For the briefest of moments, Gen felt like he had fallen into an action movie, running desperately from a giant monster while carrying the girl and dodging flaming bits of jungle. He doubted any movie set would involve actual carnage, though.

    The Gorgon Bug laid itself back down gingerly, and proceeded to roll over, trying to snuff out the little fires crawling up and down its exoskeleton from the dangerous volley. Gen could hear it before he saw it, the distant crash of trees, and then it began to sweep over. Suddenly it seemed like a pretty bad idea to head into the jungle this close to the monster- all of the other humans had good sense to spread out, it seemed. He turned and dodged, running desperately away, over and under brush and around trees. Finally, the hellish rolling stopped, creature evidently satisfied with whatever it had been trying to accomplish. Gen panted for breath, channeling mana desperately to his aching body. It didnбпt hurt, naturally- he was well into боGeneralбп mode by now for sure if he hadnбпt been before, though honestly, he couldnбпt tell the difference anymore. He could, however, feel his body weakening and preparing to fail, a passive acknowledgement of dangers that only rest could fix. Thankfully, if rest wasnбпt an option, he still had mana to cover for it, at least for the time being.

    He finally ran into a small group of humans. They were from the Rebel camp, naturally coalescing, hunkered down and watching for the oncoming bug, blissfully unaware of the fact it just cut a massive wedge into the jungleбпs brink. They gawked at him, unsure how to react to their worst nightmare slash temporary boss charging at them through the thick. Gen grunted. б░You four need to cover Kat here. She burnt her mana to buy me an easy out, but Iбпve got to find my way back in.б▒ Awkwardly, they saluted, and he disappeared back into the jungle, running back to where the bug had been.

    The group was of three guys and one girl, all involved in the Rebellion. They were боgunners,бп still untrained as far as their magical capabilities went but valuable enough to bring along on the excursion. The youngest, a guy who may have barely been in his twenties, spoke up. б░We should get moving. Iбпll carry her,б▒ he said, pointing to Katбпs limp body, б░and we get closer to the clearing. That crash earlier sounded promising.б▒

    The girl was a bit reluctant to get anywhere near the massive bug, but she nodded begrudgingly. The other guys fell in line when they saw her agree, hardly prepared to go off on their own. Their little fireteam crawled its way through the jungle, finally finding easy enough access to the clearing. They slowly traversed it, careful to avoid particularly hot patches. Finally, they were clear of the trees. The light was glowing dim, but the general ring of fire revealed the pitch-black bug and shapes moving upon it. The bug had returned to its cobra-like waiting posture, angrily swinging at the gnat buzzing around its head. Said gnat was Jim, flying about with a sword of his own. He jabbed at the creatureбпs head and боneckбп, carefully avoiding the ever-dangerous mane of tendrils that snapped and slapped in his general direction, all while the man smiled gleefully.

    They stood mesmerized, looking at the little man practically dueling the huge bug, up until the girl gasped. б░Look!б▒ She said, pointing far lower. While the creature was preoccupied by Jim, the Tyrant had found his way onto its body, desperately scraping at the joints under one of the exoskeletal plates on its back. Rather than smiling, the Tyrant was stoic, far more impassive than they had ever known him to be. They exchanged glances and unanimously pulled back. They had never seen what the powerhouses looked like when they went all out. Instead of standing aimlessly in the clearing, gawking at the fight, they found a safer place, kneeling and preparing to fire.

    Gen yanked at the plate desperately, and finally, it seemed to give. At first it slid, grinding annoyingly against the other plate, but then he wrenched it off. The damn thing was heavy, and given its shape, it took a lot of pressure to shift it even a little bit, but with some effort, the gap was exposed. Gen dove backwards, and gunshots rang out. He hadnбпt expected such an immediate reaction, but he supposed that was to be expected from the great and mighty army of the City of Man. Four shots from one direction, two from another, individual shots proving that not every human- or even most- had yet been crystalized or crushed. The Gorgon Bug lost focus on Jim, whipping itself about. Gen ran, getting clean of it as fast as he could- and not a moment too soon. The creature flailed, practically screaming in inaudible agony. It contorted dramatically, dragging more of its body into the clearing and coiling up, covering the newly-exposed plate. The creature was wounded. It had lost legs, nearly lost an eye, and taken gunshots to one of its segments, and it was pissed. It was a shame that insects couldnбпt roar, or it would have returned the trivial humanoidsбп fury twice over. In all of its nearly endless lifespan, it had never endured such disgrace.

    To his surprise, James was waiting for him when he got to the Junglesбп frontier. The man smiled, seemingly unconcerned about the life or death battle around him, and finally coming down from the fit of rage Madeline had plunged him into. Gen could still feel the tendrils of his control creeping around, as loose as they were. It was likely his manipulation that had prevented the bulk of the human forces from fleeing, stricken with terror, and kept them so singularly focused on victory. б░You know, Iбпve played a lot of games,б▒ he began.

    б░What?б▒ Gen asked, almost offended. Why was he talking about games?

    б░and those games have boss fights.б▒ He said, pausing for emphasis.

    Gen scrambled to remember what few games he had played when heбпd still go over to friendsбп houses, or the little ones he had when he was young. It was a struggle, but he finally got an inkling of what James was getting at. б░You canбпt be serious,б▒ he spluttered, б░donбпt even jinx it!б▒

    б░Yup. Every good boss has a second phase. Maybe even a third.б▒ James pointed into the distance, back in the direction he had just run from.

    Gen turned around.

 033: "Gorgon & Gen Foresting Company"

    The Gorgon Bug had ascended, segment after segment of its body shooting out from the coiled mass it had dragged itself into. It seemed to stretch so high that it could touch the clouds, and only after it had become so impossibly tall that they couldnбпt hope to strike its head from the ground did it stop. The mane of tendrils that flattened against the bugбпs sides during the climb unfurled and twisted into knots, forming a sort of cup in the sky. It was dense enough that they couldnбпt see through it, giving some the impression that they were ants staring up at a wildflower in bloom. Some being the operative word- no one had expected the creature to suddenly stretch to the skies, so the vast majority of combatants were either bewildered or mortified. It was hard to know how long the thing was when it had been curled up or sheltered by thick jungle, but as it grew ever higher, the extreme length of the creature became more and more apparent.

    Angry lights flew through the sky, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and leaving luminescent trails like falling stars as they flew out of sight, gathering above the Gorgon Bugбпs strange tendrils. It was a beautiful sight, discounting the terrifying insectoid monster that seemed to be causing the phenomenon. Gen stood there and gawked, jaw hanging so low that it might have been broken. б░Thereбпs no way it actually has a second form,б▒ he said, staring angrily at the defiant insect. The ground crinkled and popped as James walked up behind him. The man patted his shoulder a few times, walking forward until they were side by side. б░Humm,б▒ he said, б░I donбпt think itбпs a second form.б▒

    Gen finally stopped looking at the lightshow, redirecting the angry stare to his Rebel counterpart. б░What do you mean you боdonбпt think itбпs a second formбп! Look at it!б▒ He said, gesturing wildly at the enormous bugбпs general direction. Jamesбп face was intent and curious and entirely too relaxed, like he trying to solve a crossword puzzle rather than contributing his own opinion to a life-or-death fight. He stared a moment longer, seemingly ignoring Genбпs insistence. Finally, though, he shook his head slowly. б░Itбпs more like a special final attack. You know, big finale, a party wipe.б▒

    Genбпs glare vanished, and indeed, his entire expression went blank. He swung back over to the bug, looking back up at the storm of lights. They still streaked across the sky, and for a moment, he thought nothing had changed. Then he realized quite suddenly that a bright light was soaking into the fringes of the creatureбпs tendrils, mostly caught by the cup-like shape it had made, but not entirely concealed. It seemed to be getting brighter, too, like it was gathering power. His face contorted and he hollered б░Everyone, scatter! Donбпt stop running until you have fifty trees between you and this fucking bug!б▒ He couldnбпt afford to wait, grabbing James- still admiring the creatureбпs боfinal attackбп- by the shirt, and started dragging him away from the clearing with some force. The man regained his balance and focus, whirling around, and the two of them ran, ignoring any trivial diversions they passed.

    The fire was raging on, uncomfortable heat rubbing up against their skin. Their little clearing was starting to get consumed, pervasive onslaught by the flames wearing any natural resistance to combustion thin, so the run wasnбпt easy. A smoldering tree tipped over on the narrow path ahead, too high to step over but too low to duck under and entirely too long to bypass. Gen jumped up, which got him high enough to pull his feet mostly onto the trunkбпs torched surface. He started to reach out, but as he moved to grab on and pull himself up, he realized that would burn the everliving hell out of his one good hand. Instead, he jabbed his hook into the bark- only to realize he had never switched back to it from the dagger. The dagger sunk into the bark reasonably well, but his weight shifted backwards due to the force exerted, and the smooth blade didnбпt catch anything significant. He began to fall, but a strong hand shoved his back forward. James pushed him up, and with enough force to get him most of the way up. Gen leaned forward, finding a new center of balance, and then he started to tip forward over the roundlog. He wasnбпt quite sure how the log-rollers did it, really. He whirled around, catching Jamesбп hand.

    James was serious now, and that focus came in handy. As Gen pulled his hand, he leaned forward and jumped, a practiced motion that he had done plenty during the Rebelsбп forestry training sessions. He found solid footing atop the trunk, Genбпs weight helping him balance atop it, the two of them forming a sort of б░Yб▒ shape. They were stable for a moment, but James weighed a great deal more than Gen, even if he lost most- if not all- of his excess weight, so they began to tip backwards. James leaned forward, hunting down an appropriate angle to balance them both, and Gen began to lower himself to the ground. James followed him over, and the two were over the tree. It had been an involved process, which meant a time-consuming one, even if had only actually cost them something like ten seconds in all. They hurriedly restarted their run, coursing along the (mostly) clear path.

    They escaped the flaming segment of jungle, but rather than running off laterally, they unanimously decided to keep following their little trail away, both men simply hauling ass into the distance. Even though they intended to keep running straight away, the path began to curve off, turningat least sixty degrees awayfrom its initial inclination. They kept running, right up until they ran into a group of people. It was the Horned Men, gathered in a wide enough segment of clearing that they could all hunker down. Their eyes turned from staring through the canopy at the Gorgon Bug- which now had a ball the size of a small house hovering above its head, easily visible from the increased angle they had earned from their frantic fleeing- to stare at the two intruders. Both groups shifted uncomfortably, and the shiny-plated officer was none too pleased to see them.

    б░I hope,б▒ he got out before Gen cut him off.

    б░You guys probably should have fired at the creatureбпs segments while you had the chance,б▒ he said, б░itбпs been up there a good while. Two rounds and we might have even lopped off the head.б▒ If he hadnбпt been so panicked, he probably would have considered that. Sadly, though, he wasnбпt as familiar with боfinal attacksбп as James was, or heбпd have realized that they inevitably took forever to prepare.

    The shiny man growled, opening his mouth to retort, only to find he had no real argument to that claim. So, instead, he simply crossed his arms and scowled, like a child throwing a temper tantrum. To be fair, they had broken all his toys and a quarter of his men, so maybe a bit of fuming was in order. Gen ignored it summarily, instead bobbing his head in a curt nod. б░We should probably work together. Even without your fancy bubbles, most of my men will probably survive, and guns donбпt run out of juice.б▒ Strictly speaking, that wasnбпt true, but for all intents and purposes, they had more ammo than their would-be opponents had shields to block them.

    James was quite a bit politer, bowing and inclining his head in an almost regal fashion. б░I do believe weбпve never been properly introduced. I am James, leader of the Rebellion.б▒ He said, pointing to himself. He pointed over to Gen next, continuing his introduction. б░This is Gen, the General of the City of Man, formerly the Walled City. And you, who might you be?б▒

    The horned manбпs scowl broke just a little, surprise winning over raw fury. He wasnбпt quite sure if he should take offense to threat, to be appeased by the somewhat formal introductions, or a little bit of both. At the same time, he wasnбпt one to skip out on the conventions of politeness, despite his generally brusque demeanor and warriorlike appearance. It was something he prided himself on, in fact, an integral aspect of his climb to a leadership role. Shieldbearers tended to be both rude and inconsistent, so to find one that was as eminently talented as he and yet still so polite to his ranked superiors was considered something of a miracle, and he had been fast tracked up to a leadership position at impressive speeds. He just couldnбпt help but introduce himself properly to the little menace.

    б░This one is Krella,б▒ the horned man proclaimed loudly, б░?з┌злз┌? in service of our Lord.б▒ James looked to Gen, confused, to which the boy pointed to his ears. They hadnбпt needed to use mana to aid translation in quite a while- James had almost forgotten it was a thing they could do. б░I, uh, could you repeat that last part?б▒ He asked, as politely as he could manage.

    б░of our Lord?б▒ Krella said, tilting his head just a little to the side.

    James shook his head. б░The entire bit.б▒ He answered, monotone.

    Krella grunted, completely missing the fact that he was actually complying with his enemyбпs demands. б░Centurion in service of our Lord,б▒ he said.

    б░It is an honor to meet one of such high ranking among your people,б▒ Gen cut in. б░I do wish we had encountered each-other under more fortunate circumstances.б▒t

    Krella looked over to the other Human, the one that had cast them into such dire straits, and yet had been nearly silent the whole encounter. He searched for the right words for the occasion, but no number of niceties seemed to be of help to explaining his current feelings. б░Youбпre a genuinebastard, but I admire your ability. I, too, wish we hadnбпt met this way, if only for the men I lost.б▒

    Gen laughed. б░I suppose thatбпs about as high praise as I should expect. We have much to discuss, you know.б▒

    б░Sirs? Thereбпs a bit of a problem,б▒ a voice intoned from the distance, respectful and quiet.

    Krella furrowed his brows. б░Even in the current situation, I cannot see us having anything to talk about.б▒

    James was frantic. He hadnбпt ignored the timid soldier, pacing over to his side and following his gaze into the night sky. б░Weбпve got to get the shields up, now!б▒ He cut in, pointing up at the Gorgon Bug still looming over the horizon. б░Fuck me for starting the conversation at all! Just get the shields up!б▒

    Krella looked back and forth between the two humans, frustrated. His initial intention had been to force them out of their range, to exclude them from at least their shields. He turned around, following everyoneбпs terrified gaze. The Gorgon Bug was still charging its strange ball of light, but the little shooting stars had slowed down nearly to a halt, no longer appearing in the intense quantities they had initially. The mass seemed to be nearly critical, a gigantic spheroid that seemed to dwarf the bugбпs head, seemingly tens of meters in diameter. The bright, blue color it had assumed initially was subsumed into a deep red not unlike that of the Gorgon Bugбпs crystallizing goo. б░Blast it all, throw up the shields!б▒ He shouted, forcing out his own mana at dangerous speeds.

    The network of bubbles came up, covering them all in a protective shell. This wasnбпt a moment too soon, either- the Gorgon Bug moved for the first time in what felt like hours, although in reality, it had hardly been minutes. It shook, ball tracking with its head as it moved like it was stuck there. The huge insect bent, and an intense shriek rang out, immenselyloud even with as much distance they put between them and it. It leaned down suddenly, arcing over the jungle, and it began sweeping its head around, the massive ball of energy tearing itself apart. It went from a stiffly assembled ball to an almost fluid beam of nearly the same diameter, washing over the jungle like judgement from above. From their angle, they couldnбпt see what it was doing to the things it hit, but without any doubt, it wasnбпt pleasant. The Gorgon Bug swept back, tracing another line- right towards them.

    The beam of burgundy light swept over them and their surroundings. The jungle that surrounded them was turned into an impressive crystal display, almost an artistic masterpiece, something that would probably be more believable in CGI or a painting. The invisible barriers that sheltered them shook and quaked as it hit, starting to take on an uncomfortable red sheen, but almost everyone held. Almost everyone- an unfortunate bubble-wielding soldier faltered, and as the bubble disappeared, he and those who took shelter under his protection were all turned into crystalline sculptures, terrified looks frozen onto their faces as they cowered, one stuck forever in a frenzied scramble towards the nearest functioning shield.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    б░You must be joking,б▒ Krella asked no-one in particularand all the Gods his people could ever hope to worship, looking from one crystallized end of the clearing to the other and back again. He shook himself and gawked, as though he hoped it was simply a dream. б░What sort of creature can even do this?б▒

    б░Yeah, our entire entourage is probably all sculptures by now,б▒ James said, nudging Gen lightly. The boy had been awestruck, almost stock-still, but the touch brought him back to attention. He whirled around, anger playing across his face.

    б░I gave the order,б▒ he said, waving his dagger-arm menacingly. б░My men arenбпt so incompetent as to die to such a puny little attack.б▒

    James shook his head, not bothering to make eye contact. It was a rhetorical gesture, the rebellious sort of acknowledgement youбпd expect more from a teenager rather than a one of the few relevant leaders of the human race. б░Our men, but youбпre probably right, forget I said anything.б▒

    б░Both of you are insane!б▒ Krella shouted, his shield actually faltering momentarily as he stared wide-eyed down at them. б░The creature killed so many, and you two just chat? No doubt, they are all dead! Soon, we will be too!б▒

    Gen looked over to the agitated commander and simply shrugged. б░You underestimate the tenacity of our men,б▒ he said. б░Weбпve got more important things to deal with. For instance, the huge insect we need to slay.б▒

    The Gorgon Bug began its descent from the incredible height it had climbed to, accelerating as more and more segments of body touched ground. They could hear the distant trees as it shot out of the clearing, but thankfully, its rampage went in a different direction. Krella looked between them and the bug. It was hard to say they were wrong. Sure, heбпd be working with the enemy- and one so apparently lackadaisical, sneaky, and dangerous all at once- but it would be a chance. He calmed himself, and the flickering shield stabilized. He pulled himself upright and proud, hoping to regain at least a little of his bearings before the real scary shit started. After all, it would be unbecoming for one such as he to put forth anything but his best behavior, regardless of the company he kept. б░If we are to kill this bug, we should move now,б▒ he said, forcing a sort of confidence he really didnбпt have at the moment into his voice.

    Gen nodded. б░There are some things we can do, with or without our troops.б▒ He glanced over to James, hardly missing a beat. б░When was the last time you had hand-to-hand with a monster?б▒

    James tapped his head a few times, thinking. б░Probably the Spinosaurus,б▒ he said. б░Damn, I need to do more crazy shit. I guess nowбпs the time?б▒

    Gen smiled and patted him on the shoulder. б░Nowбпs the time.б▒ He squared back up with Krella, smile never wavering. б░Weбпre going to go off into the woods. Now, Iбпd never give you order, but it sure would be nice if you guys could shoot the bug at the same place a bunch.б▒

    Krella grimaced. б░Noted.б▒ The little man was trying his patience, but he understood the principle of it. The hard part was building up enough time for his over-taxed, generally exhausted men to get a volley ready, and as far as he could tell, no one was up to the task. If it was a last-ditch effort, it would still be worth a try. He waited, expecting for any real conformation on the other sidesбп plans, but the two intruders simply shared a glance and started off walking in the opposite direction. It took him a moment to process the fact they were really leaving.

    б░Where are you going?б▒ He demanded. They hadnбпt even bothered to tell him their plans. In truth, there was no plan- but Krella didnбпt have to know that. Heбпd probably just panic and give up, after all heбпd been through. So, Gen just smiled wryly, not bothering to so much as glance back. Their encounter was done, at least for the moment. He instead gave focus to the frozen wonderland they were walking off towards. The Jungle was a very different place with everything made crystalline. Thankfully, thin fronds and branches and grasses remained thin, and when they walked over the now solidified jungle floor and pushed through bushes, the rigid plants snapped and cracked and moved under their weight. If they were barefoot, it may have been irritating or even painful, but with the shoes they had produced, it was more of a matter of careful movements to avoid stepping straight down on something very sharp. They got used to it quickly enough, making good time. Eventually, it became easy enough for Genбпs mind to wander- to wonder if there were any other humans alive, or if they really could kill the huge Bug.

    Somewhere quite a way away was the answer to at least the first question. The Conduit had been dragged all the way from the City to the battlefield, against any and all protest she put up. She had been reluctant enough to fight a боnormalбп army, so the moment the contact high she got from Jamesбп magic wore off, she went from боshooting willy-nilly at the huge monster trying to eat herбп to боcowering in a nearby tree just close enough to see but just far enough to avoid assaultбп. It was probably a lucky thing she hadnбпt gone much further, too, since she had only just barely heard Genбпs desperate shout from across the clearing. She only had just enough time to climb down and book it, and by the time the crazy crystallizing death-laser hit, she was only just far enough away to be clear of its path. It had fallen within mere inches of feet of her, and between the Gorgon Bug and the killer plant from the tunnels, she was really starting to get tired of close shaves.

    The nameless girl had never been a fighter. She hadnбпt even been one to hike, really. Her condition and the unwanted attention it brought meant that she was pretty much irrevocably and irreversibly locked up- not in a cell or a mental ward, as if such things were still of any consequence, but within her own home. It was dumb luck she hadnбпt gotten lazy and kept herself reasonably in shape, although a bit of extra weight might have been part of the reason she had survived the tunnels for as long as she had. All that taken into consideration, she still wasnбпt in good shape. Tromping through the jungle with gun in hand wasnбпt nearly as easy as the stories made it seem. Sure, on the march to the encampment, it had been okay, but she was at the back of the боbusбп. Tons of other people stomped the annoying grass flat, found paths around the prickly bushes and risky plants, and navigated any potential animal encounters.

    When she made her mad dash, she had none of those benefits. Sure, she was alive, but her legs were worse for wear. The fabric near her shoes and even her shoes had taken a beating, torn or tattered in little spots that marked each individual mishap. A tear near her knee when she tripped and crawled back to her feet. A rip from thorny undergrowth that had managed to even bite into her leg, drawing a little red line across a shin. It wasnбпt generally a good idea to run blindly through the wilderness, especially if you had no experience, which she certainly didnбпt, or talent, and she didnбпt have that either. They had gotten her out of the city, but man did she miss it.

    As soon as she finished checking herself for particularly bad wounds, she finally had time to take a closer look at her surroundings. The Gorgon Bugбпs beam had been damnably impressive, almost beautiful, encasing everything it hit in ice. That was to say, in something quite like ice. The Conduit had never lived anywhere with a real winter, but anyone with a half a brain could tell you that ice wasnбпt red, so unless part of the magical power was dying things red, itбпd have to be something else. She stumbled into the strange wonderland, promptly stepping down onto a number of blades of grass. Which wouldnбпt have been a problem if it was still the soft, plushy grass and weeds she had been running through. They really were боbladesбп now and she could feel the little tips sink through her shoe. They pushed through, pricking her skin, but thankfully shattering as her foot descended, evidently not rigid enough to force themselves the rest of the way through. She recoiled, tipping backwards.

    A minute of pulling at little shards of glass-like grass later and she was ready to give it another go. This time she was more careful, sweeping her foot close to the ground and only lowering it gingerly, wary of more cuts. Eventually, she was walking, and then she was in the middle of a crystalline palace. It was amazing, like nothing sheбпd ever seen. It also gave her time to notice a few important facts. The first was that the Jungle hadnбпt been боencasedбп at all. A hint of their shape and color was still apparent, but when she looked closer, she could see through to the other side, albeit just barely. Any amount of боseeing through a treeбп was a bad sign, though. Suddenly, being hit by the beam sounded even less appealing, if that was even possible. She quite liked having flesh and bone and not being transparent, for sure.

    The second important fact was that the angry stampede of the Gorgon Bug sounded like it was coming closer. She hurriedly spun around, once and once again, hoping to see it, but wherever it was, it was out of sight. The nameless girl started to relax, even just a bit. Surely the Bug wouldnбпt hit an area it had already been obliterated, right? It was kind of hard to navigate, too, so why would it bother? Her hopes were quickly quashed. The sound kept growing closer and closer, and the huge insect barreled around the bend far off in the distance, ramming into a number of trees- and turning towards her. It was moving far faster than before, as though frenzied, and its mane of tentacles had taken new form and purpose. Half of them were bundled around the creatureбпs insectoid боfaceбп, while the other half were arched and spread like the business-end of a bulldozer, a slightly concave scoop that grabbed at the ground.

    It wasnбпt actually charging towards her, not precisely. It seemed to actually be following the crystalline path it made for itself, and as it charged through the semitransparent jungle, the unfortunate fauna it hit turned to dust and then disappeared entirely, leaving a barren patch of nothing in its wake. Regardless of where it was planning on going though, one thing was quite obvious- she was in its path.

    б░Are you insane?б▒ A frantic voice shouted from the sideline. It was another survivor, hopefully one of many, and the Conduit recognized his voice immediately- Jim, one of the head honchos of the Rebels. Apparently, he had run off in the same general direction she had, or maybe he was actually hoping for an encounter with the huge Bug and she was stealing his spotlight. She turned, hoping to spot him. He was off in a tree, looking down at her, expression in some odd mixture of agitation and laughter that she wasnбпt even sure she could pull off if she tried.

    б░What are you doing?б▒ He said, emphatic. б░Run!б▒ The man even gestured, desperately scooping his hands towards his chest, as though pulling her closer.

    In truth, she really didnбпt know what she was doing. It was an odd feeling, like she was trapped. A deer in the headlights, ready to get run over. To be fair, a deer would have just had to take a few steps to get free. At some point in her desperate efforts to overcome the environment she had succeeded, and now to run out would be excruciating, and to walk out would be too slow.

    б░I donбпt think I can,б▒ she said. Her voice was soft, uncomfortably so. It felt almost like it wasnбпt hers, like she had aged. It was the panic, the way it made her give up, the nameless girl realized. Her panic was condemning her, a self-fulfilling prophecy. Jim grimaced, shutting his eyes tightly and turning away. He couldnбпt afford to save her, even if there was time- he would need any mana he had for the last fight. She turned back to the huge insect rampaging towards her, more than ready to turn her to dust. More likely, though, it would just crush her, grinding her under its enormous weight.

    She only had a few moments to do anything at all. It was almost upon her, growing larger by the moment. Suddenly, she wished the voices would just tell her what to do, but none came. She was alone. That wasnбпt true, though. She wasnбпt entirely alone. A singular voice screamed in her head, telling her to do something, anything, to get her stupid ass in gear and survive. That voice could only be her own, the last one remaining after the rest had all been stripped away.

    The Conduit obliged. She pulled herself together, desperately thinking and wishing. Not for a way out, no, not at all- she was wishing for a way up. The equations soared through her mind, immaterial figments that could never work in the real world but seemed to just боclickбп with the thing in her head. A second before the insect would hit her, she began to shake and shimmer. Four-fifths of a second before the insect would hit her, her fingers were disappearing, growing transparent and immaterial before her eyes. Three-fifths of a second before the insect would hit her, her entire body was beginning to join in, nervously trying to decide if it was actually here, or over there, or somewhere else entirely. Two-fifths of a second before the insect would hit her, her eyes had joined in, and suddenly she simply wasnбпt in front of it any more, she was above it, suspended above its head. One-fifth of a second before the insect would hit her, she hit the insect quite forcibly. With her head.

    The nameless girl bounced and rolled, tumbling along the steam-train of a bugбпs back. Thankfully, she hadnбпt landed on its dangerous tentacled mane, but instead on the exoskeletal plates behind it. At the same time, exoskeletal plates were no trampoline, and her bodyбпs uncontrolled flailing didnбпt do much to stop the pain. She realized suddenly that the rifle she had been toting had come with her in the teleport, and the nameless girl gripped it tighter, holding the stock to her chest and jabbing the barrel out, desperately trying to force the muzzle into the creatureбпs plate. Sadly, the entire point of an exoskeleton was to keep out such intrusions. It took quite a bit more agonizing rolling before she hit a stroke of luck- the barrel missed the боslotбп in the creatureбпs armor entirely, which wasnбпt exactly what she wanted, but instead it hit a hole that had been bored into it by one of the Horned Menбпs flaming shots. The barrel sunk in deep and caught, and her tumble became a desperate fight to hold on, the shock of suddenly pulling against something nearly tearing the carbineбпs body from her grip. She held on to dear life, barely holding on. Jim had stopped grimacing, and she could see his dumbfounded gawk as she sped off into the distance, which almost made the whole ordeal worth it. If she had a spare hand, she would have waved. Soon, he was a distant blip.

    She rode the bug.

 034: "Ride the Worm 2: Electric Boogaloo"

    I wanted to be many things when I grew up. Little me saw all sorts of futures on the horizon, anywhere from a боreality starбп making bank off my fucked-up childhood to a world-renowned rocketeer, making any other thing my name would call to mind seem trivial in comparison. Maybe even convince people it was just a sign of genius, manifesting in an odd way, like all of the off-key savants of old. I dreamed big. I wasnбпt the most talented or the smartest ever, even when I had so much time to myself, and the sensation surrounding my odd cognitive condition died a bit too fast to monetize, especially with my parentsбп urging. Dreaming big could be outlandish, and when youбпre a kid, it feels like you can be anything you want to be, even if you know deep down that you really canбпt. б░World-Renowned Scientistб▒ and б░Old-Media Celebrityб▒ were just the tip top of a very, very long list.

    All that being said, б░Professional Bug Wranglerб▒ had never found its way onto that list. In fact, I donбпt think it had ever even crossed my mind. That was probably for the best, too, since I was doing a pretty piss-poor job of it. The giant insect hadnбпt bothered to take note of the fact one of the annoying little pests attacking it had jabbed a rifle into its flesh, still charging full speed ahead. In some ways, that was a blessing, since if it started bucking like a bull at a rodeo, Iбпd have went flying almost immediately. As it was, the undulations were light enough that the carbineбпs barrel only jittered about slightly, wedged at an angle between the creatureбпs outermost innards and shell. In other ways, it was a curse. The insect never stopped moving, and the breakneck speeds meant my dangling body spent pretty much the entire time trying to yank itself free from the death-grip I had on my rifle, and man were my arms getting tired. It was a strain the likes of which I had never felt, like even the bones of my poor arms were going to pop right apart, joints be damned. Naturally, my fingers would give long before that ever happened- the first time the bug hit a turn, they nearly did.

    All in all, though, it was exhilarating. Not many people got to ride on the outside of a train, especially one going at full speed. It would have been fun if it wasnбпt so damn excruciating, and if Iбпm being honest with myself, itбпs probably fun even then. At some point, the pain had become a simple fact that I noted dismissively and shoved to the back of my brain, which is actually pretty weird now that Iбпm thinking about it. The simple fact I had time to think about how little pain I felt while my arms practically tore themselves apart is kind of mind-blowing to me, the same girl who would have spent five minutes nursing a stubbed toe back on mother Earth. Still, even in the dulled state I had slipped into, it was hard to ignore how much my arms were hurting when the bug went into a big turn. The human body just wasnбпt made for that sort of stress, and my human body was going out of its way to make that abundantly clear.

    Teleporting up and falling onto the giant insectбпs back wasnбпt my best plan, but it had been damn satisfying. The last time I had teleported, I was nearly incapacitated. This time I felt light-headed and queasy, which wasnбпt helping things, but I still managed to perform quite a feat of acrobatics right after the magic. It almost made me feel competent, like I had done something really cool. Almost being the operative word, since now I really donбпt have an easy way to escape. If боnot passing outбп was my metric for success, I passed with flying colors, but боlong-term survivalбп? Not so much. Teleporting to the Cultivator and accepting the black-out or vomiting would have probably been the right call. It wasnбпt easy to make decisions like that on the fly, though. At least, that was the excuse I had to keep telling myself.

    It was good fun to watch the Jungle fly by. More importantly, it was about the only thing I could really do to pass the time on the bugбпs back. At first, the scenery seemed monotonous, but there was a sort of pattern to it all, readily visible in part due to the way the crystalizing beam paired with the steamroller of an insect had cut a cross-section of flora out of the environment. The most interesting part was passing by places where a wider swathe had been cut. After all, it had been running all along the Jungle before I hopped on board, and in the time Iбпve been riding on its back, it made a few loops. In some parts of the trail, there were only thin slivers of trees and grasses and bushes to seperate the path. In others, it eschewed a divider entirely, and instead of a narrow trail it was more like a double or triple-wide clearing. From time to time, Iбпd see a few survivors hiding and gawking up at me and the bug as we passed on by. It was hard to count since I couldnбпt really tell if I simply saw the same few people four or five times while the insect circled about, but there had to be at least twenty survivors so far, which was a pleasant surprise. If that many people were alive, maybe at least one could find me a way off this thing.

    At the moment, the bug was tromping through the clearing, running for the other side. It was a sort of respite to not have to worry about speedy turns for a good while, but I wouldnбпt have time to relax once we got to the other side.

    The bug never got to the other side. It stopped and the world tumbled around me, inertia having its way with whatever forces had been acting on my body only moments before. I only had enough time to unbrace my arms and tug as my head damn near flew right into the butt of the carbine protrusion, swinging barely around it as my body slammed painfully down onto the shell for one final time. Now that I had time to look, I could see bruises crisscrossing my arms and legs. I filed that fact away in the back of my brain, somewhere mashed together with other important thoughts like боdo not ride giant bugsбп and боdo not step straight down on pointy thingsбп. The breather let the pain catch up to me just a little bit, but it still didnбпt feel quite right, like it was illusory rather than the intimate agony I deserve for all the abuse I put my body through.

    It suddenly occurred to me that the carbine I had been using as a grip all along was still prepared and loaded. That realization tore through my brain, cutting off all of my unnecessary worries and fears and the logical bit telling me to simply count my blessing and hop off the insect-train while I had the chance. Instead, all I could think about was the exhilaration and fury that had swept over me at the start of the entire encounter, the fever-pitch we had all reached in that first attack. The urge to contribute, to help kill the damn thing, was strong enough to convince me to pull the trigger before I even knew what I was doing.

    The gun had been wedged in through the chink in the bugбпs exoskeletal armor and lodged thoroughly in the thin matter and muscle matter lying below it, and with my own weight levering it, the barrel went from pointing nearly straight down to a sharp angle, one steep enough that it had been getting hard for me to hold on. There was a muffled боbumpfбп as the gun fired, and the bullet must have shot through at least four of the creatureбпs body segments. It shook almost immediately.

    It was easy to treat the big bug like it was just a simple thing, as though it just slid about like a snake about the ground, but I was reminded of the fact that it actually had tons and tons of strong, chitinous legs the hard way. The creature shook, legs contracting and undulating, and for a moment, it all bowed inwards. I had to catch myself as I slid, smooth exoskeleton uncomfortably hard to brace against as the inclination shrank lower and lower. Just as I started to prepare to drop off the side and roll to the ground, the sinking stopped, and the legs expanded, springing the segment I was on, as well as several of those nearby, into the air. I lost my grip, tumbling aimlessly off as it bucked, and that was that.

    I had to be at least sixty feet into the air by the time I stopped ascending. The flight was fast, so incredibly fast, but there was just a moment of weighotlessness and clarity right at the top that I was still clear-minded enough to enjoy. I could see the clearing, which had been singed and doused in crystalizing rays and generally ravaged by the fightбпs proceedings. I could see the increasingly distant Jungle, hiding behind the remains of all the foliage we had demolished. I could see the people hiding so far away within the trees and bushes, beady little eyes staring up at me as I flew. I could see the bugбпs head not more than feet from my own as it pulled itself up into the strange, cobra-like posture it preferred, rapidly ascending to the insane height such a large thing could muster.

    That moment passed, and I began to fall. I swung my arms and twisted, hoping to ball up, but that was easier said than done. The descent quickened, the smooth arc of my fall dropping me towards a rough patch of dirt a good distance from the creature itself. My stomach turned, but for some reason, my brain couldnбпt quite decide whether or not it should have panicked. A black tide rushed along the ground like ink splashed from a well, smoothing over the dirt and giving it an almost metallic sheen, uniquely and perfectly black like carefully polished obsidian. The black color was broken by intense cyan and purple lines that danced across it, zipping from end to end like lasers in a strange sort of array. Eyes wide, I fell the rest of the way, but there was no impact.

    When I hit the ground, I just stopped. My neck wasnбпt snapped, my bones werenбпt crunched. Hell, I wasnбпt even jarred. The strange black surface caught me like a web, frantic movements doing little more than inevitably pulling my body down onto it. Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, and suddenly I could pull myself up again. My gaze followed it as it dispersed, the neon-luminescent lines rushing back to their source. Off in the distance stood a number of people in overblown robes, aligned in a curved line formation, like a lens with me as the foci. It was the Imposterбпs merry band, the so-called боProgrammersбп that I had never actually seen in action before. Each of them had one arm outstretched with their fists extended in my general direction and the other arm perched on the shoulder of another robed Programmer, following a sort of chain inwards towards the Imposter herself. Though, that was the only way I could really recognize her- most of them had their hoods down, but hers was atop her head, concealing her features.

    A few of the ones near the edge of the lens fainted outright. Their neighbors reacted quickly, dragging them unceremoniously back into the Jungle, fading readily into the increasingly dim twilight. The remainder of the Programmers, still conscious and seemingly unperturbed, simply lowered their arms. Well, except for the Imposter. Instead of lowering her arm, she flipped her fist over, pointing right back at me. Not to me, I realized, but past me- she was pointing at the Bug. It hadnбпt simply stopped moving when I shot the gun, not at all. Instead, it was twirling about and hunting for the creature that had wounded it so suddenly, and I wouldnбпt have long to stand there and gawk before it saw me.

    I scrambled to my feet, tumbling into a run. I got a good head-start, but for such a massive creature that wasnбпt saying much. I looked over my shoulder only to see that it had finally noticed me. Its frantic movements stilled, sound fading, and its insectoid face was just looking down at me, staring intently at me while I ran. I stopped looking, instead doubling and redoubling on my efforts, running full-tilt ahead.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    I couldnбпt see behind me, but that didnбпt mean I couldnбпt hear the bug coming. It slammed itself into the ground, angry little legs slicing at the dirt as it toppled down. Whatever head start I got was trivial in the face of the creatureбпs enormity, and I could almost feel how close that first drop was. My only saving grace had to be the way it had coiled up- after itsбп first attempt to crush me, it had to untangle itself. It chased me, sure, but the process meant it was slow enough that a runner could at least keep pace, hardly the bullet-train speeds I was used to. The dark was really setting in now, sun trying to dip completely under the horizon at an almost visible speed. The twilight had endured, but I was running in the night at best, guided by the dying embers of the Jungle and forced to haul ass by the realization that even if I couldnбпt see, the creature behind me probably could.

    The Adventurer made this sort of thing look easy. One night, I tried to sleep on the roof of one of the new, barely occupied housing complexes in the City of Man, and I got the rare opportunity to see her run in the city. Apparently, she actually got faster after breaking her legs, or so the story went- getting to the city so late meant I missed quite a few crazy things, and the girl was responsible for half of them. I got to see why, first hand. She practically flew from rooftop to rooftop, what little боjewelryбп (particularly shiny remnants of the things she killed or helped kill) the girl wore glimmering in night. By the time I had really noticed her, she had parkoured half way across the city, and when she hit the biggest obstacle in the city- the chasm- she cleared it in what felt like a single jump. The Adventurer could scale buildings in the dark, leap large ravines in a single bound, and probably outrun a bullet if she ever got the opportunity.

    I could hardly stay upright. The ground was nearly level, but боnearlyбп and боbreakneck sprintбп meant I had to take wide, deliberate strides to avoid catching my foot on this root or that molehill. It took a small miracle, but I kept my footing, scratching out what I thought was a decent pace. For a moment, I even though Iбпd get away cleanly. One of the creatureбпs spiky legs dropped from the sky, skewering the dirt just barely in front of my foot. I realized with a start that it was above me, that not only had the huge bug caught up, but also that if I had actually kept a better pace, I would have been made into an impromptu shish-kebab.

    It dug out the segmented leg, wiggling it free of the ground. I ran to the side, hoping to get out from under it. Its head had been above me, which could only mean that its dangerous mane was more than close enough to strike, so I dodged pre-emptively, diving as far and as fast as I could. I felt sudden bursts of wind on my back as I fell, a tell-tale sign of exactly how close Iбпd been to getting a newer, shinier complexion.

    It wasnбпt like I had a plan. I just dove, hoping for the best. It was about the only thing I could have done, but it didnбпt leave me with many options. The only one that seemed to reliably get me away from the bug was to teleport my ass right back to the city, or at least to a pocket of human survivors at the cusp of the Jungleбпs edge, but there was absolutely no guarantee I wouldnбпt get to the destination and die horribly from the exertion using my particular боmagicбп seemed to cause. If my lucky break earlier was indication, either my supply of mana got way better or shorter distances mean less vomiting, so what would a hundred meters mean? A thousand? Would I just arrive and start coughing up blood, or would I already be dead by the time the боshakingбп started? Thinking about it that way, sacrificing names for the ability to teleport anywhere up to tens of kilometers wasnбпt such a bad deal, even if it was only once.

    Teleportation was out. What about running again? I hadnбпt outrun the bug when it was agitated enough to make mistakes, so why would I be able to escape now, when it was so close and so determined to get me? Running wasnбпt the best option, even if it seemed to be only other one. There might have been a way if I was in better shape, maybe utilizing the way it seemed to turn a little slowly, even if it was obscenely flexible for its size. My body was battered during the prolonged trip on its back, though. Even trying to push myself up with my ragged arms was taking forever, giving my thoughts time to wander and meander through the itty-bitty list of ways I could try and get out of this mess.

    With some effort, I flipped myself over, looking back at the thing chasing me. More accurately, looking up at it. I hadnбпt got very far with my impromptu slide, but it was just far enough to force it to turn about to face me, which it seemed reluctant to do. I hadnбпt really got a close look at its face, but that was probably for the best. The oversized centipede-thing was far more imposing than I gave it credit for, doubly so in the dark and with such dramatic affects as slowly turning to face me.

    I suddenly got an impression of the Gorgon. For obvious reasons, I canбпt really say which one, but I stumbled on her story in my spare time. The bugбпs mane writhed and twisted into knots like hundreds of two-meter-long snakes, swinging with every motion of its head. The creature had incredible mandibles that seemed to glisten with just a tinge of the red discoloration of the crystalizing goo that smothered its surprisingly unaffected tentacles, giving it the intimidating look of a blood-drinker even if I was pretty sure it hadnбпt so much as eaten a single living thing all evening. Its face was still visibly cracked by Jimбпs forcible incursion, but wind clotted it, and the nasty fluids finally stopped draining from the hole. All in all, a creature I wouldnбпt care to run into even if it was just a normal little bug, let alone the monstrosity it was.

    It encroached ever so slightly, segmented body trailing along just a step forward as its face swept over to look down at me.The bug chittered and its mandiblesswung open andshut, the creature''s odd demeanor made me feel like the creature was gloating. Even the thought of that gave me a difficult dilemma: either I had long since gone insane and I was humanizing a monster, or it was far more sentient than we had given it credit for. I had to consider exactly what was going on here. Presumably, the situation was something like this: A bunch of annoying little flies had swarmed onto the big thingбпs turf, and it was just about to swat the most elusive of the bunch, and it was quite satisfied by that fact.

    If I had the luxury, Iбпd probably enjoy joking around about how strange that role reversal was, but I hardly had time to drag myself backwards, kicking at the dirt with my legs and pulling with my startlingly fragile arms. The Gorgon stalked a little closer, undulating wave of legs fading away into the darkness, another reminder of the enormity of the thing that would kill me.

    A number of fireflies sparked to life in the distance, just visible in the periphery. It was a beautiful contrast, the little gnats of light appearing just as the pitch-black insect was about to swallow me whole. I considered the poetry of it for a moment, appreciating the spectacle I got to see in the last moments of my life, but then I remembered that anything bright enough for me to see from so far away couldnбпt be fireflies. The lights went from the unearthly green hue they started with to a red-hot glow, each little particle turning into baseballs and eventually the huge beach-balls of fire that I got all too acquainted with at the start of the evening. They were the magically-powered blasts of the horned people we had been fighting, and they were flying right for the bug, the very same bug that still hadnбпt realized the danger.

    It seemed to gleam from the way I relaxed that something wasnбпt right, even if it couldnбпt pin down what. With none of the deliberate drama it had been channeling moments before, it swung to follow my gaze, just in time for its anterior in general to get hit, including its face. It recoiled withthe impact, wheeling itself backwards and swinging itself into the air, waving its conflagrating face like a torch in the night. Some of the rare uncharred flora in the clearing were caught by sparks from the initial blast or by the few stray fireballs and lit up too, casting the area into some semblance of light once more- revealing two men, standing side by side.

    One was quite a bit younger than the other, though if you guessed which one youбпd be wrong almost every time. The General, no, the Tyrant stood resolutely in the miniature inferno, shoulder to shoulder with the Cultivator, who had no doubt had some part in their appearing act. I flopped down, suddenly endlessly tired, but with some effort, I managed to wave up at them. The Tyrant was nothing like the General I had the misfortune of talking to over the past few days. He normally wore a face somewhere between constipation and regality, depending on the day, and his demeanor would shift on necessity, usually ranging from care-free and a bit nerdy to stoic and improbably competent. Now, though, that was all gone. He was all business, all of his lithe musculature twisting and tightening like he was ready to leap into action, face contorted into a fierce grimace that belonged more to a supervillain than any General Iбпve ever seen. He didnбпt so much as flinch or react when I waved, just staring intently at the big bug that was panicked and trying to snuff out the fire, mutilating a poor stretch of dirt in the process. Meanwhile, the Cultivatorбпs placid and flawless expression disappeared, replaced by an almost wry grin, and he happily returned my wave. The Tyrantбпs hand shot into the air, and for a moment I thought he actually was about to return my greeting, but instead his hand contorted into a number of increasingly awkward positions, only a select few of which I could hope to recognize. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he put his hand to his mouth and whistled, a piercing sound that rushed out in every direction.

    The gunners, or what remained of us, filed out of the tree-line, gathering in plain sight for the first time in the entire engagement. It would have been an intimidating display if it was bright enough to really see them all, and for a moment, I thought that the Tyrant was just hoping itбпd be enough to just burn the bug and scare it away. Betraying my expectations, though, out came the horned men, emerging as a pack, immediately identifiable by the oddly luminescent tattoos crawling down their arms and necks. For a moment, I thought I could see our own mages, but it was hard to tell if I had just imagined it, their robes hardly contrasting to the night. That wasnбпt all, though. To the contrary, essentially the entire retinue of New World conscripts, shining armor of the Gomen and green skin of the Goblin alike distinct in the night, swarmed from the Jungle, as though they had never left. Which, actually, was about what the Generalбпs initial plan has prescribed, though the way things had changed probably demanded a little improv, even if the Gomen and Goblins werenбпt so good at it.

    Reinforcements had arrived.

 035: Grill & Chill.

    Jim hadnбпt actually bought the idea that the rest of the residents of the City of Man were loyal enough, or at least whipped enough, to stick around. He didn''t think that the natives would be find the courage and stupidity required to justify fighting a giant murder-bug, in the end. When Gen gave the signal, he turned around, expecting to see little but trees and grass and dirt and ashes. Instead, he saw easily hundreds of people emerge from the Jungle, as if they had never left. They were still armed with spears and crossbows, still organized and generally unharmed- some may have been lost in the chaos of the creatureбпs laser-beam, but in general, the group seemed pretty intact. He hadnбпt thought they would be loyal, and he was wrong.

    With them there, they had better odds. Even if they couldnбпt shoot giant fireballs, they were an army and the bug had been wounded enough that might actually matter. It hadnбпt taken death blows, but so far it had at least three penetrating wounds, one of its plates was ripped off, and it had been badly singed, so боwoundedбп was an apt description. Jim had to remind himself to turn away from the new army and look back to their enemy. It was steadily moving away from them as a byproduct of the frantic roiling and writhing it did to try to put out the fire. Only dumb luck kept the poor girl unsmushed initially, but Jim would have never taken their defacto leader so close to the bug if he thought there would be immediate danger. Even still, the bug was rapidly regaining control of itself, and that meant they would have to act fast.

    б░You will take me to my troops,б▒ Gen declared. The young man had hardly moved as he spoke, and Jim thought he had hallucinated the order, but the increasingly irritated glare said otherwise.

    б░I donбпt have many more flights left.б▒ Jim said, and that much was true- he had torn through his reserve of qi with reckless abandon, especially early in the fight. What he didnбпt say that he also wanted to help get the poor girl out of danger, but he could keep that to himself.

    б░You will take me to my troops, and you will do it now.б▒

    Jim suddenly felt an intense urge to take him to the Horned Men. It didnбпt feel quite like the odd compulsion James wove over them all- it hummed in the back of his mind even now, a sort of unifying thread that was likely the reason why he was so certain that all the missing humans were dead or unconscious and not deserters. It wasnбпt like the emotional fever-pitch Madelineбпs singing sent them into, either. His body didnбпt quite reject such magical control, at least not yet, but it certainly made him aware of invasive forces within his body. This was something different, and it was actually pretty familiar, a nostalgic feeling that reminded him of his time in the military- the gravitas his sergeant exerted even in peacetime. It reminded him of the way he could hardly dare to disobey or disrespect him even if rank and file wasnбпt telling him he had to do so.

    Without another word, he grabbed Gen by the armpits and took off. It wasnбпt the most dignified way to fly ever conceived, but the boy didnбпt seem to care. He just stared off at his army, and his army perked up under his gaze. Jimбпs intense vision developed during the cultivation and purification of his body revealed each soldierбпs movements- their backs grew straighter, they held their spears upright and crossbows tighter to their chest. Despite now losing command of the force, Ayala looked more confident and prepared, giving Jim a glimpse of her time as the great Warden of the Walled City. The flight itself was brief and as they descended, Jim could begin to feel the bloodlust welling up from the crowd. It was actually down-right admirable they had kept to боthe Planбп if they had been hit by Madeline and Jamesбп impromptu concert just as hard as everyone else.

    Goblins only had one leader- their Chieftain, typically- but that wasnбпt to say they didnбпt have an internal power structure. It would have been virtually impossible for an entirely disorganized race to compete with the upper echelons of the myriad Races, at least from what Jim had gathered. Goblins made a point to organize to squads, and that squad ate together, played together, fought together, and died together, all under the lead of a particularly smart or capable goblin. Squads would take orders from Delegates, who act as direct lines to the Chieftain. Twelve such Delegates walked to the front of the army, representing the two-thirds of the total forces that consisted of Goblins. Ayala alone stood to represent the remaining third, and to her credit, she was imposing enough to convince the excited Delegates to let her speak first. They all sort of stumbled about in the dark, letting the big woman through.

    б░We have held out and waited for the signal, as requested.б▒

    Gen grunted. б░Improvisation is an independent decision, taken in absence of further orders and in face of a change in plan.б▒

    The woman raised her eyebrows, puzzled. б░Was not боwaiting for the signalбп your order?б▒

    б░Yes, but it was given before a certain intruder changed the field.б▒

    She coughed, and the Delegates shifted uncomfortably. б░Your servants were under the impression that the worm-demon was part of your plan.б▒ She paused for a moment, and then emphasized. б░Sorry, I meant the Plan.б▒ Goblins placed great emphasis on having only one Plan at any given time, from which all other action, both dependent and independent, came. Ayala was not a big fan of the little traitors, but it wouldnбпt do her any good to pick a fight by implying that her plans and Genбпs Plan were not the same thing. Besides, Gen was looking pretty intimidating at the moment, and she couldnбпt read his expression well enough in the dark to see if he himself had been offended.

    He nodded, nonplussed. б░We will be initiating an assault now, in tandem with Horned Men troops.б▒

    б░Uh, Boss,б▒ Jim said, emphatic. He sounded nervous, or more nervous than Gen had ever heard from him at the least.

    Gen turned around and promptly saw what Jim was pointing at. The Gorgon Bug wasn''t hard to see in the dark. To the contrary, the way the bugбпs massive shape seemed to consume the sparse light that hit it made it dark, ominous, and easy enough to see in the dark. That same Gorgon Bug was charging towards them, and it was building up speed.

    б░Third and Fourth Guard to center! Spears to ground and prepare to intercept! Companies two at left flank and three at right, prepare for surprise impact!б▒ Gen shouted, himself clearing the way as he gave out orders. The army at his back followed his orders, albeit haphazardly, stumbling about in the dark. б░Remainder clear way and scatter, weapons at ready! Three paces between all soldiers!б▒

    The large chunks of the army that hadnбпt received any orders began to fan out, distancing themselves from both the evident path of the giant bug and from each-other, leaving just the densely packed formation of the two Gomen units of spearmen and the somewhat more distant flanks of Goblin crossbowmen. The Gorgon Bug drew nearer, stampede now audible, peppering them with the constant clatter of its sharp legs digging little holes into the dirt as it charged.

    б░Flanks fire at eyes when it gets to four hundred paces and once more at one hundred paces!б▒

    Jim followed Gen as he ran. б░What are we doing?б▒ He asked. He hadnбпt expected a real reply, but Gen gave him one. б░Iбпm going to be using my magic.б▒

    Jim grunted. б░Yes, but why so far away? Youбпve used it before, yes?б▒

    Gen almost smiled. With his strange disposition, it looked more like a grimace, but he was at least forty percent sure it was intended to be a smile. Maybe a wry grin. б░You lot made progress with your magic, yes, but you arenбпt the only ones.б▒

    б░Merrilyn did something weird with her Programmers, yeah. Your gardener guy is pretty impressive too. Kat can fly faster than me, even if she canбпt go as far.б▒

    б░I thought the Rebellionбпs main concern would be my progress, but I suppose I was wrong,б▒ Gen said, halting suddenly.

    Jim shrugged. б░Group powers donбпt seem to really get any better. Ms. Madeline got a little better, but thatбпs mostly just her actual singing.б▒ Then his face paled. He hadnбпt even considered what Genбпs power getting an upgrade of any kind would look like. After all, if they couldnбпt do it, why would the Tyrant figure it out? He looked back to the army, and then to the oncoming insect.

    The spearmen in the dark were almost all tense and desperately gripping their spears at first, but suddenly their muscles relaxed. It wasnбпt just one or two of them, either. Every single one relaxed. For that matter, so did the Goblins, though their crossbows didnбпt lower even a smidgeon. They were unnervingly calm, as though they werenбпt staring down a monstrosity in the midst of night.

    The bug, for its part, was just running. Jim could see its compound eyes twitch and its head swerve ever so slightly to either direction, as though deciding where it wanted to actually make impact. Around the time it seemed to begin to veer left, it hit about four hundred paces, and Jim looked back to the army.

    It was right in time to see the a few hundred bolts shriek from their grooves all at once. They were almost perfectly aligned, with the right flankбпs volley gently convalescing on the bugбпs left eye and with the left flank aiming for its right eye. The creature reeled, snapping its head up as soon as it saw the shots coming. It was just fast enough, but the almost uniform blows from the bolts tore through the segment of exoskeleton they struck, many of them ripping through and embedding themselves entirely. Jim tore himself away from watching the bugбпs injury, desperately resisting the sudden wave of euphoria that came from seeing it injured.

    The goblins were already reloading, swift yet deliberate. The little green men were more like machines, with a notion reinforced by their roughly uniform proportions. Their faces and heads could differ quite a bit, but they werenбпt loading the crossbows with their heads, at least not as far as Jim could see. They were reloaded in just a short time, but even as quickly as they managed it, they were only barely ready for the second volley.

    The Gorgon Bug was pissed, and it actually accelerated after the first set of shots. At one hundred paces, there were only seconds before it would hit the forces. The Goblins let loose the second volley, but this time the bug was ready. It contorted, rolling itself to the side in a strange, bowing curve that traced its way almost back to the center of the clearing, its massive body twisting to give it room to arch. Quite a few bolts still grazed it, some even digging at it, but it was nothing compared to the two gaping holes it earned from the coordinated strike of the first volley.

    Its charge finally ended as it dove for the left flank like a mantis, striking from above. The Goblins dropped their Crossbows unceremoniously and in unison threw their arms into the air. Jim cringed in anticipation of their imminent deaths. During the descent, his keen eyes spotted a great number of soldiers simply toppling over. It wasnбпt the left Flank, though. Instead, the bodies falling to the floor were the troops Gen told to spread out, entire swathes passing out entirely.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    The Gorgon Bug made impact, and the Goblins caught it. Jim couldnбпt believe his eyes, but the platoon had joined forces and stopped the insane force the bug had presented. Put plainly, it was impossible- which meant magic was involved. The left Flank squatted back in unison and heaved, chucking the Bug off to the side, and the insect bowed under the weight, losing control of its mass. The weight of the entire, carefully contorted section fell to the joint of one single segment of body, which quite notably didnбпt happen to be radial. In fact, that was the entire point of the bug moving so strangely to roll at all, since at least half of its body was still jumbled up in the center of the clearing.

    Jim could see the bugбпs body as it tore itself apart, every little seam of biomatter losing any semblance of cohesion under the sudden strain. He could also see Gen beside him, bent over and coughing up blood.

    б░Holy shit,б▒ he said, б░are you okay?б▒

    Gen flipped him off, which meant боyes, of courseбп. At least, Jim figured as much. He heaved some more and tried to say something, but through the blood and coughing, Jim couldnбпt make it out. When the young man pointed at the giant bugбпs head and then to his sword, it made an awful lot more sense.

    б░Yes, sir,б▒ he chimed excitedly. They had actually scored a lasting blow on the huge bug, and if he got to do the honors of finishing it off, that might just make his week. Jim snatched the sword from Genбпs belt and took off, brandishing the dagger as he flew towards their foe. He probably should have helped him sit down or something before he took off, but time was limited.

    The Gorgon Bug wasnбпt dead. Sure, it had frozen in the initial shock, but so had Genбпs army, although that might have been from him losing control over them. Hell, Jim himself had about passed out when he realized what had just happened. Jim had recovered the fastest, but the bug was a close second. Rather than using and abusing its weight as it had been for most of the fight so far, the bug instead opted to lash out with its tentacles, rolling itself upright- right back towards the goblins that had just chucked it off. It actually seemed to move faster without the rest of its length, sweeping its way through the crowd quickly. The crystalline goo painted a number of goblins and splashed on to others and they began to petrify, almost immediately being subsumed into red crystal.

    The flight was short- running on foot could hardly compare to the exceptional speed a practitioner could attain, after all. Even still, Jim was far too late to save them all. The bug was acting swiftly and decisively, the weight of its pride thoroughly shattered. The Flank scattered splitting into their respective squads in their panic. Meanwhile, the two guards Gen dispatched as the main obstacle to their enemyбпs charge seemed out of sorts, shaking themselves awake. If Jimбпs guess was right, they hadnбпt just been боrelaxedбп but instead боdrainedбп, just to a lesser degree than the limp bodies in the back. Only a few were stirring, where most notably Ayala had already pulled herself to her feet. Which, he supposed, made sense. She was a natural mage, and from what he remembered of the Generalбпs power, it primarily moved around mana. How he had managed the absolute focus and unison was a mystery though, so Jim couldnбпt really discount the idea that something else had changed.

    By the time he began his rapid descent, the Gorgon Bug was sweeping its way through the remainder of the crowd, catching as many of the scattering squads as it could with its tentacles. Wherever its mandibles and proboscis swept the statues dissolved, seemingly dissipating into thin air. In most cases, the creature didnбпt even bother to wait for such contrivances, just crushing both statues and living specimens for expediency. Of the ninety-odd Goblins that made up the Flank, over half were already dead. Jim dove straight at its writhing mane.

    Accelerating towards certain death is typically a terrible idea, but that wasnбпt precisely the plan. His own qi fueling his descent like a jetбпs engines and gravity helped him hit an intense speed, one fast enough that the flapping of his decorative robes sounded more like the buzzing of a beeбпs wings. If he kept up the pace, he would have certainly crashed right into it. Instead, he cut the боthrustбп, reversing it. As quickly as he could, he let go of the hilt and pommel of Genбпs dagger and it flew from his grip like an arrow, but Jim could hardly find the time to care. The forces enacted of his body at that moment, of slamming on the breaks and practically stopping instantly, tore at his skin and jarred his organs, shaking his well so thoroughly. He let out a scream that he hoped sounded more like a war cry. The agonizing process of the stop drained his sea of energy at an astonishing pace, and by the time he began to fly backwards, it was finally empty.

    Jim flew in a huge arc backwards, tumbling through the air and hitting the ground hard, body rolling on the ground something like twenty feet before the loving embrace of friction gave him sweet relief. His body was battered and exhausted, although he suspected he wasnбпt too far worse off than your average person. He shoved hard, forcing himself off of his stomach and onto his hands and knees, then looked over to see the outcome of his missile strike.

    A number of tendrils writhed on the ground, severed from the Gorgon Bugбпs mane but still moving, lashing out randomly in any given direction. The bug itself retreated at an astonishing pace, already at least a few hundred feet away from the place where it was attacked by the time Jim got his bearings. It was looking over at him intently, and he could feel the killing intent in its eyes. The feeling was mutual, to say the least.

    It swerved, skittering at speed towards him in a strange zig-zag. The right Flank finally fired their next volley, but with none of the precision or unity they had under Genбпs control. Only the smartest of the bunch took the time to aim ahead the way they would normally. Bolts whizzed through the dark, but even the few that hit did little more than smash pointlessly against the exoskeleton, little sparks lighting up the night for just moments. The Gomen guard were finally mobilized, Ayala leading them in a desperate charge towards him, but they wouldnбпt be fast enough to make a difference. Jim was well and truly fucked- or so he thought.

    An ungodly crack tore apart the quiet night. One area that guns lost to crossbows was their relative noise generation, especially if you addressed the primitive weaponry of the 20<sup>th</sup> century. Something like a hundred bullets whizzed through the air, some uncomfortably close to Jim himself.

    The Gorgon Bugбпs swerving proved useful, allowing it to evade a good chunk of the surprise gunshots, but even still the ones that hit were devastating. The more penetrating wounds it got and the more opportunities the army had to make new ones, the more damage accumulated. Individual shots struck home, one hitting the softer bits of thorax exposed by Jimбпs recent dagger strike, more than a few striking the fleshy segment exposed by Genбпs earlier crowbar job. These things alone wouldnбпt have stopped the bugбпs determined charge, that much was true. What did stop it was either the product of an especially talented sharpshooter or the luckiest shot of the evening- a bullet straight to the creatureбпs eye. It bounced around after puncturing the thick protective membrane, going a long way to tearing its way through the cavity itself.

    The Gorgon Bug careened. When it got hit, the sudden pain caught it off-guard, and like a derailed train, it simply lost balance. The stutter was enough to tip it over, huge insect sliding uncomfortably close Jim as it passed by, lying on its side. Jim hadnбпt even realized he was cringing, relaxing his jaw, and he tried to scramble to his feet, limping away from the bug. It was limp at the moment but not dead. It was agonizing to move at all, and he made slow progress, just hoping to get a good distance on the creature before it stirred.

    Something else pushed him into action, though. Green light suddenly began to emanate from the dark in the segment of Jungle he was running towards, and his sensitive eyes revealed what remained of the troop of Horned Men, with the боgunnersбп leveling their arms in his direction, strange tattoos alight in ethereal flame. Not his direction, precisely, but that of the bug. In either case, Jim had no plans of being grilled after surviving all the shit he had so far, so he leveraged what little physical strength he had in him, sprinting off to the side at top speed. Red orbs of flame soared through the area he had just been, striking the still downed bug and the landscape around it. He made a mental note to complain about their aim if he had the good fortune to survive the night, flopping back to the ground, exhausted.

    The Gorgon Bug writhed, desperately resisting the flames, but it grew weaker and weaker with every moment that passed. Its insides were in total disrepair, and with this final blast, even the most durable of its organs were starting to fry. Eventually, the bug was totally limp, an immobile beacon of flame in the midst of the warzone. Jim just lay there, watching it burn, warmed ever so slightly by the distant heat.

    He could hear the Gomen arrive first, no longer at a sprint, but more of a casual gait. They passed him by, only Ayala stopping to bother with him. The rest simply gathered around the flame, basking in it. Some even sat down, just watching the fire. Little by little, more people arrived. The humans who were on the near side of the clearing came first, but after a while, the Gorgon Bug had become less of a dead enemy and more of an impromptu bonfire. People gathered, accounting for losses and talking about the fight, gloating over who helped kill it the most. Apparently, the one to land the shot on its eye was actually part of the small party Gen had ordered to escort Kat, one of his rebels. Jim basked in a little bit of pride at that- of course one of his men would be the sharpshooter that saved his life. Well, they were Jamesбп charge, but who cared.

    Eventually, even the Horned Men came out, walking past Jim and Ayala just as the Gomen forces had. They hardly seemed to remember the fact that the lot of them were adversaries only a short while before, paying no attention to safety or precautions. The leader of their troop even introduced himself to Jim, one боKrellaбп. He complimented his bravery in the fight, emphasizing the nobility of Jimбпs willingness to sacrifice it all to win the day. Krella left with a brief but polite bow, heading off out of sight.

    Gen had actually got his bearings. Jim wished he could see how the young man looked, as covered inblood and sick as he probably was. He could only guess whether or not he would try to maintain that dignified, stoic look he had assumed during the fight. To his surprise, Krella and Gen addressed each-other by name. Or, rather, Gen just addressed him as боKrellaбп, while the big man greeted Gen as боGeneral of the City of Manбп quite formally. They chatted briefly, commending each-other on their contributions to the fight, though the tone quickly got more serious by the sentence.

    б░We have much to discuss,б▒ Gen said. It wasnбпt quite a whisper, but he at least stopped projecting his voice so much. If Jimбпs hearing was so potent, he might have missed it.

    б░Indeed.б▒ Krella grunted. б░I am willing to agree to equal peace in exchange for information.б▒

    б░Your party was clearly losing. Why would I want equal peace?б▒

    Krella was indignant. б░Do you not have any sympathy for those you fight with?б▒

    Gen was jovial. б░Iбпm joking, Iбпm joking. Our side will have someбнб▒ He paused, uncertain. б░Problems. We will have some problems when we get home. Iбпd be happy to simply end the bloodshed, especially if you can tell me more about this world of ours.б▒

    б░Likewise. We will need a place to stay, given that this ruckus has likely attracted all sorts of attention, and I am quite curious to learn some things from you, myself.б▒

    Jim could almost feel the pressure from Genбпs gaze, even if it wasnбпt directed at himself. There was a weight to it, and though it wasnбпt furious, it was ferocious. б░I do hope you will not ask us for our weaponry,б▒ he said, voice steely.

    This time, Krella was the one laughing. б░Hardly. I am curious of other things, and I will guarantee that I will not pass it to those who hunt you.б▒

    There was a pause.

    б░I do believe youбпve already hit on some information I need to know. How long do we have?б▒

    Krella grunted. б░I can only guess.б▒

    б░Shortest possible time, please,б▒ Gen said. б░There canбпt have been other parties coming yet, right?б▒

    б░I am not so certain. The moment the teleportation platform was destroyed our people no doubt initiated recovery protocols. The rescue parties may be coming even now.б▒

    Gen sighed. б░How large is a rescue party, then, and when would they be here, if no one else?б▒

    б░No less than seven days.б▒ Krella concluded. б░Travel between planes can be quite tempestuous, but eight days is a fair minimum. If they mobilize a quarter of our forces, you may expect to see two-thousand troops. We were expecting to have time to teleport in at least a few hundred, but I doubt they will take that risk.б▒

    Jim could hear Gen shifting uncomfortably, no doubt doing the math in his head. Jim was no strategist himself, but that sounded pretty damn dire. The young man simply stood there, but no responsecame, no more words exchanged. Eventually, the two of them walked back into his view, joining the rest of the survivors as they basked in the bonfire''s glow.

    The two tattered armies left for the City of Man as day broke.

 Webdomain of Man: Interlude 2

    [14:33][RooDzz]: Whatбпd I miss?

    [14:33][Free Parking]: Big weird city place, a few new characters, long recap of everything we did from her POV. She cried a lot.

    [14:33][Cantre11]: Sheбпs trying to replicate augerбпs circle using old blood and itбпs not working. боGenбп and боMerrilynбп are very interested in seeing how the magic worked, боKatбп is just hanging around

    [14:33][Beholeth]: Captain Hook, Supermodel, and Chica

    [14:33][Cantre11]: Weбпre not calling them that.

    [14:33][RooDzz]: Which oneбпs which? I see a dude with insane legs, a guy in pirate coat, a blonde in an uncomfortably tight robe, and an Olympic medalist

    [14:33][RooDzz]: Scratch that, I can guess which oneбпs which. Do we know what the leg guyбпs name is?

    [14:33][Beholeth]: Leg Day.

    [14:33][Free Parking]: No idea.

    [14:33][Misser D]: Iбпve got a spreadsheet up for the ARGбпs internals, anyone know why the circle isnбпt working?

    [14:33][Cantre11]: auger would be our best bet, but I doubt heбпd bother to explain.

    [14:33][RooDzz]: Well, the blood last time was fresh, wasnбпt it?

    [14:34][Free Parking]: Jinx, poor Leg Day seems really afraid of Supermodel.

    [14:34][Free Parking]: I mean Merrilyn

    [14:34][Beholeth]: Soon, all will be awkward nicknames

    [14:34][Misser D]: She has training. Itбпs not super easy to tell now that theyбпre just messing around, but she closed that gap like a pro.

    [14:34][Cantre11]: Noted. How can you tell?

    [14:34][Pughly]: That question breaks Rule 2, Cantre11. Theyбпre not hard to follow.

    [14:34][Cantre11]: Not everyone here is from the same place.

    [14:34][Beholeth]: Is the suggestion box open or not? Iбпve been trying to get her to run away for a while now but sheбпs not reacting

    [14:34][Free Parking]: I think weбпre on rails at the moment. I got her to chuckle when I started spamming боthe British are comingбп, though, so Iбпm pretty sure itбпs live.

    [14:34][Cantre11]: Iбпve been sending something too, I thought it was just dead.

    [14:34][Beholeth]: care to share with the class what you''ve been sending?

    [14:34][Cantre11]: Donбпt worry about it.

    [14:34][RooDzz]: Anyone notice Gen ogling Merilyn?

    [14:34][Misser D]: Yes, actually. Not sure if itбпs good acting or great acting.

    [14:34][Free Parking]: Intermissionбпs over, crazy girl getting it back on the road.

    [14:34][RooDzz]: I was trying to push my way through the walls and it wasnбпt working, btw

    [14:34][Cantre11]: In the city we werenбпt having problems but this building seems a bit different.

    [14:34][Misser D]: I think Iбпm going to jot that down on my sheet, their world can interact with our POV somehow or another.

    [14:35][Pughly]: Iбпm guessing itбпs magic.

    [14:35][RooDzz]: Why?

    [14:35][Pughly]: Because itбпs magic, I ainбпt gotta explain shit

    [14:35][LaForest]: Vintage.

    [14:35][Cantre11]: When did you arrive, LaForest?

    [14:35][LaForest]: Same time as RooDzz

    [14:35][Cantre11]: Please remember to announce when you arrive, everyone.

    [14:35][Cantre11]: Not counting auger, that makes all 7 of us. No new joiners?

    [14:35][RooDzz]: Iбпve kept quiet.

    [14:35][Beholeth]: New name: боJimбп. Nickname pending.

    [14:35][Misser D]: That infodump was pretty useful for context but it actually conflicts with some of the stuff we know.

    [14:35][LaForest]: How so?

    [14:35][Misser D]: Merrilyn insists that control is the important bit and mind over matter and all that but crazy girl had little to no control when she poofed out of existence.

    [14:35][Cantre11]: Damn, youбпre right. Are they lying?

    [14:35][LaForest]: My moneyбпs on multiple systems. Think D&D.

    [14:35][Pughly]: I know I just complained about asking for personal details but how old are you? I havenбпt even seen those letters together in years

    [14:35][LaForest]: not as old as youбпre guessing. Anyway, it could be like б░schools of magicб▒ or even a huge split like Arcane Magic vs Divine Magic, where even the way you try to power them up is 100% different.

    [14:36][Misser D]: Iбпve got that as a footnote, weбпll see as time goes on.

    [14:36][Cantre11]: Their conversation took a damn weird turn, Captain Hook brought up quantum mechanics

    [14:36][Beholeth]: Muahaha also thatбпs stupid

    [14:36][Pughly]: She seems to sympathize. This is clearly a fantasy ARG, not Sci-Fi. I mean, there were goblins and shit.

    [14:36][RooDzz]: Why didnбпt I hear about those? They seem kind of important.

    [14:36][Cantre11]: Oops, theyбпre everywhere in the city, usually out of sight building or mining from what we could tell. Like serfs almost.

    [14:36][Beholeth]: There are no slave drivers or anything, which was weird. They just do it.

    [14:36][Misser D]: They move a little like platoons, probably a consequence of боGenбп. Anyone else think thatбпs just short for General? Heбпs wearing a greatcoat and everything.

    [14:36][Beholeth]: General Hook isnбпt catchy or a pop culture reference, vetoed.

    [14:36][LaForest]: боBearstrositiesбп also sounds like something straight out of D&D too.

    [14:36][Cantre11]: Itбпs working.

    [14:36][RooDzz]: It actually is, too. It looks exactly like last time. Except with more clothes.

    [14:36][Pughly]: Man, thatбпs dumb.

    [14:36][Beholeth]: Man, thatбпs dumb x2

    [14:36][LaForest]: Man, thatбпs dumb x3

    [14:36][RooDzz]: Man, thatбпs dumb x4

    [14:36][Misser D]: Whereбпd she go?

    [14:36][Cantre11]: Other corner of the room, sheбпs in bad shape.

    [14:36][Pughly]: Jot that down too, Misser D. Short teleport has her vomiting and passed out, but sheбпs apparently alive after teleporting at least 50 times that far minimum.

    [14:36][Misser D]: What did she sacrifice this time?

    [14:36][LaForest]: Nothing except her lunch, which makes things more complicated.

    [14:36][auger]: She does not belong entirely to herself. Not anymore.

    [14:36][Beholeth]: There he is! You still owe me a horde.

    [14:36][Free Parking]: Back, why is the sound gone?

    [14:36][RooDzz]: Yeah, soundбпs down.

    [14:36][Misser D]: Should we spam until they turn it back on?

    [14:36][auger]: We have been invited to watch, but she is at war with it.

    [14:36][Misser D]: Gonna take that as a боnoбп.

    [14:37][Beholeth]: Iбпd go to war again just to spite the guy but itбпd be too expensive, sorry

    [14:37][Cantre11]: Iбпve been sending stuff anyway.

    [14:37][Free Parking]: Reading up, sounds like I missed a bit. Misser D, auger just gave us a shitload of info.

    [14:37][Misser D]: Like what?

    [14:37][Free Parking]: The fact she can teleport now is a consequence of that first teleport, I think, and itбпs taken a chunk out of her, literally or metaphorically.

    [14:37][Misser D]: I got that bit, anyone figure out what she got rid of?

    [14:37][Cantre11]: I know a lot of you missed the first convo, but she apparently canбпt use names anymore. She calls Gen боthe Generalбп, though.

    [14:37][Misser D]: So itбпs not necessarily a physical thing, got it. Also told you it was short for General.

    [14:37][Misser D]: Wait, if she canбпt say боGenбп but can say боthe Generalбп, does that mean Gen actually is his name? Gen the General?

    [14:37][Beholeth]: Gen the General is just silly enough to be an acceptable alternative.

    [14:37][Free Parking]: The other statement is kind of confusing but apparently her using her magic interferes with our ARG pov.

    [14:37][Misser D]: Got that, too. I wonder why?

    [14:39][RooDzz]: Them just talking about random things is way less interesting when you canбпt hear them.

    [14:39][RooDzz]: Wait, guys? Whereбпd you go?

    [14:39][Cantre11]: I think people are kind of taking a break.

    [14:39][LaForest]: Iбпm still here.

    [14:39][RooDzz]: Probably a good thing, shitбпs going down. Do we know the guy who just ran in?

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Nope. He sort of hung out and stood by the door when they came in, though.

    [14:39][LaForest]: Goblins outta nowhere.

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Yeah, I think Misser D was right, these guys are way too organized to be normal Goblin-types.

    [14:39][RooDzz]: This is the same ARG where quantum mechanics let you teleport.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Duly noted.

    [14:39][LaForest]: Damn, Chica can run fast.

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Kat.

    [14:39][Beholeth]: Hate to see her leave, love to watch her go.

    [14:39][Cantre11]: You guys are the worst.

    [14:39][Pughly]: Whatбпs the actual hubbub?

    [14:39][RooDzz]: Soundбпs still out, but a weird guy ran in and got them. Must be an emergency.

    [14:39][Misser D]: She can fly?

    [14:39][Misser D]: Sorry, not enough emphasis. She can fly!?!?

    [14:39][LaForest]: Damn right, and thatбпs a problem since she hasnбпt sacrificed anything as far as I can tell.

    [14:39][auger]: Loyalty is rewarded.

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Loyalty to what?

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Wish theyбпd make the ARG plant just a bit less cryptic, itбпs getting irritating.

    [14:39][auger]: I am not here for your amusement.

    [14:39][Beholeth]: Heбпs being a lot more talkative, this time. That actually sounded like a response, too.

    [14:39][Misser D]: Iбпm going to go ahead and put боChica(Kat)бп down in the new category with Jim and toss in боLoyalty is rewardedбп.

    [14:39][auger]: What I know of the Jim implies that he is of the Conduit, not like this one.

    [14:39][Misser D]: Ooookay

    [14:39][Cantre11]: What are they doing? We havenбпt been to the floating place yet, but it makes no sense now.

    [14:39][Beholeth]: Looks like theyбпre splitting off. I almost feel bad for Gen the General, these girls seem pretty capricious.

    [14:39][Free Parking]: Have we confirmed what sort of relationship they all have?

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Kat and Gen hit it off, our girl is an outsider, and Merrilyn may or may not be interested in any and all of them.

    [14:39][RooDzz]: Any and all of them?

    [14:39][Cantre11]: Sheбпs pretty mercurial, every time I look at her she seems to change her mind on who sheбпs ogling, what her mood is, and what sort of posture she wants to assume. Itбпs actually kind of unnerving now that I think about it

    [14:40][LaForest]: I wish I could see her without that robe.

    [14:40][Cantre11]: Didnбпt take you for that sort.

    [14:40][Pughly]: lol

    [14:40][LaForest]: Let me rephrase that. I feel like I recognize her but Iбпm not super sure.

    [14:40][Cantre11]: First RooDzz and now you? Who does she look like?

    [14:40][LaForest]: This is going to give an awful lot of context as to who I am so I need to be sure thatбпs fine.

    [14:40][Cantre11]: That means you two miscreants.

    [14:40][Beholeth]: Iбпm not a miscreant!

    [14:40][Pughly]: I wonбпt do anything with it.

    [14:40][Cantre11]: If youбпre not a miscreant, why did you know I meant you?

    [14:40][Beholeth]: drat

    [14:40][auger]: None of you shall come to harm without there being dire consequences.

    [14:40][Beholeth]: Ominous threat aside, I wouldnбпt do anything with it either.

    [14:40][LaForest]: Iбпve taught at a number of language-oriented education centers.

    [14:40][Misser D]: Really? That makes a lot of sense actually.

    [14:40][RooDzz]: Education centers I get, but боlanguage orientedбп? Like English?

    [14:40][Beholeth]: Programming.

    [14:40][LaForest]: Thatбпs right. When I was younger I got caught doing some unsavory things and part of my penance was teaching people how to keep themselves safe from that.

    [14:40][Beholeth]: Youбпre really LaForeste? Iбпm almost upset I didnбпt think of that sooner, all things considered.

    [14:40][LaForest]: Shit, I didnбпt know I was famous or Iбпd have put some more effort in

    [14:40][Beholeth]: Not everyone would recognize you but I would have to be braindead not to.

    [14:41][Cantre11]: Personal revelations aside, why would you know Merrilyn?

    [14:41][LaForest]: Beautiful, reserved, wore a tight bun. Blonde hair but a smidge darker, could be a trick of the light or dye or both. Looked almost entirely the same as the robed woman, but the more I see her, the less they seem alike.

    [14:41][RooDzz]: How?

    [14:41][Cantre11]: How?

    [14:41][Cantre11]: apparently we have a ninja in our midst, too.

    [14:41][RooDzz]: I wish

    [14:41][LaForest]: The girl I taught was named Jane, was incredibly shy, and couldnбпt hurt a fly. She looked very similar, but the mannerisms are all wrong.

    [14:41][Cantre11]: Why off with the robe, though?

    [14:41][LaForest]: Scar. The kind doctors canбпt fix, too. Itбпd be on her left lower arm, and while itбпs hard to see in general, that sort of thing doesnбпt escape you when you have to watch someone type a few thousand characters a day for a month.

    [14:41][RooDzz]: Iбпll try to watch out for it.

    [14:41][Beholeth]: Why not just shift POV over and peak under her б░sleevesб▒?

    [14:41][Pughly]: I tried earlier, doesnбпt work. Bonk on an invisible wall.

    [14:41][Beholeth]: Typical.

    [14:41][Cantre11]: Youбпre typical, in more ways than one.

    [14:41][Misser D]: Thatбпs one hell of a coincidence.

    [14:41][RooDzz]: Yeah, lol.

    [14:41][Free Parking]: Woah, what is this place?

    [14:41][Misser D]: Itбпs beautiful!

    [14:41][Cantre11]: I donбпt think Iбпve ever seen so many firearms in one place.

    [14:41][RooDzz]: I donбпt think Iбпve ever seen so many firearms.

    [14:41][Pughly]: I donбпt think Iбпve ever

    [14:41][Beholeth]: I donбпt

    [14:41][Misser D]: Generalбпs got the big guns.

    [14:41][Free Parking]: Itбпs pretty empty, though.

    [14:41][LaForest]: I get what you mean. Why are they there? Big leg man isnбпt even escorting them, though I donбпt blame him after Jane/Merrilynбпs shenanigans.

    [14:41][Cantre11]: Theyбпre just sort of sitting and chatting.

    [14:41][Free Parking]: and we still donбпt have sound

    [14:41][RooDzz]: Speak of the devil, mine just came back on.

    [14:41][LaForest]: Mine too.

    [14:41][Misser D]: Iбпm pretty sure sheбпs not supposed to be fondling those high explosives like that.

    [14:41][Cantre11]: High explosives! I thought that was clay?

    [14:41][Misser D]: Old mil tech in an even older formula.

    [14:41][LaForest]: Shit, that really is her.

    [14:41][Beholeth]: I donбпt see it.

    [14:41][LaForest]: Itбпs kind of faint, but you canбпt miss it once you actually know itбпs there.

    [14:41][Beholeth]: Itбпs right. Guys, look at her left arm when the robe drapes back.

    [14:41][Pughly]: Yup.

    [14:41][Cantre11]: So sheбпs another real person, albeit with a dramatically different personality and new name. Is she acting?

    [14:41][Misser D]: Itбпs getting kind of slow even with sound, so Iбпm going to do some digging on this боJaneбп person.

    [14:41][LaForest]: Iбпll check school records too.

    [14:42][Cantre11]: I wonder if these guns are all real or just CGI, like the big plant.

    [14:41][auger]: The guns are every bit as real as the ''big plant''.

    [14:41][Cantre11]: So not at all.

    [14:41][RooDzz]: Maybe it was just really good practical effects and thatбпs what he means? Like, heбпs gloating because of how crazy this ARG is?

    [14:41][Pughly]: Honestly kind of feel bad itбпs just us. This thingбпs been fucked up enough but itбпs still the best thing since Grasshopper.

    [14:42][RooDzz]: Grasshopper?

    [14:43][Free Parking]: Crazy ARG with real world puzzles. Ended with a huge fake cult scene that exposed an actual real cult to the public.

    [14:42][RooDzz]: I think I saw that in the news actually.

    [14:43][Beholeth]: Grasshopper? More like Crickets. Chatбпs dead lol

    [14:45][Cantre11]: Why donбпt they at least talk? I get that Janeilyn is kind of intimidating, but itбпd be common decency.

    [14:45][Pughly]: I just went off to do something else. Weбпll have stuff to chat about when those other two get back.

    [14:45][RooDzz]: I hope so

    [14:48][LaForest]: I found the record.

    [14:47][Beholeth]: Hurrah! Whatбпd it say?

    [14:47][Cantre11]: Iбпve got a guess.

    [14:47][LaForest]: Name: Jane Doe

    [14:47][Pughly]: And no one called her on that? Not even you?

    [14:47][LaForest]: I think itбпs safe to assume that if youбпre throwing thousands of dollars at a place they donбпt care what your real name is. I never heard her last name.

    [14:47][RooDzz]: I guess her real name is Merrilyn then, but what was she doing in your class?

    [14:47][LaForest]: Sheбпs one of my favorite pupils, top five at least. She really did seem to be there to learn.

    [14:47][Cantre11]: So a highly qualified programmer is going around and fondling guns and explosives. I think my immersion is irreparably broken.

    [14:47][Beholeth]: Tell me about it. This is fun in some ways, too.

    [14:47][RooDzz]: Is that all you found?

    [14:48][LaForest]: She paid her entire tuition out of pocket.

    [14:48][RooDzz]: Hot damn.

    [14:48][Pughly]: Supermodel might not be too far off, lobbing that kind of money around.

    [14:48][Cantre11]: I hate to admit it, but that might be right. I guess weбпre just waiting for Misser D.

    [14:48][Beholeth]: Almost calls for a P.I.

    [14:48][Misser D]: Those two are the same thing.

    [14:48][Free Parking]: welcome back

    [14:48][Misser D]: thanks and I found some stuff

    [14:48][LaForest]: Shit, like what? Iбпm curious now.

    [14:48][Cantre11]: Teachers usually arenбпt so prone to swearing, you know.

    [14:48][Beholeth]: Most teachers havenбпt had full access to more than four national banks.

    [14:48][RooDzz]: I think most teachers havenбпt had full access to any national banks, for the record.

    [14:48][Beholeth]: You never know.

    [14:48][Misser D]: Steal my thunder, why donбпt you.

    [14:48][LaForest]: Go ahead, weбпre all listening, even if theyбпre a bit obnoxious.

    [14:48][Misser D]: Fine, fine, the long story short is that Merrilyn doesnбпt exist.

    [14:48][Beholeth]: I thought you боfound somethingбп?

    [14:48][Misser D]: I did, but not through the sorts of channels youбпd expect.

    [14:48][Cantre11]: Interesting, go on.

    [14:48][Misser D]: I found her in footage. I have access to certain tools to look at appearances and certain consistent details- like a discoloration of the forearm.

    [14:48][RooDzz]: Do you all have to be super-spies and hacker professors and shit? Iбпm feeling left out.

    [14:48][Pughly]: If itбпs any consolation, Iбпm completely normal.

    [14:48][Cantre11]: I know for a fact youбпre lying.

    [14:48][Pughly]: Shhh.

    [14:48][auger]: The ordinary would not heed the call.

    [14:48][Cantre11]: Iбпm going to take that as a compliment.

    [14:48][Beholeth]: I think it was one.

    [14:49][Misser D]: Long story short, I found Jane Doe. And another one. And another one. Including, I might add, the one that was in LaForestбпs class.

    [14:49][LaForest]: Thatбпs not creepy at all.

    [14:49][Misser D]: You have no idea how much access certain people have to everyoneбпs lives.

    [14:49][Cantre11]: Wasnбпt that a myth?

    [14:49][Misser D]: For the sake of my continued employment, yes.

    [14:49][Beholeth]: Sweep your tracks on the way out.

    [14:49][Misser D]: I appreciate that warning, and trust me, Iбпm on it. Iбпm not particularly tech literate, but thereбпs a few things you have to be able to do.

    [14:49][Pughly]: I can almost hear the van now.

    [14:49][Misser D]: You guys havenбпt actually heard the crazy bit yet though.

    [14:49][Cantre11]: The anticipation is killing me, stop delaying.

    [14:49][Misser D]: Each Jane Doe is a completely different боpersonбп.

    [14:49][RooDzz]: Just like боMerillynбп?

    [14:49][Misser D]: Just like Merrilyn. There are a lot of things that set off red flags for suits, right. Donбпt go looking up certain medication and related organic chemistry on the same day, for instance.

    [14:49][Free Parking]: Only on weekends.

    [14:49][Misser D]: Well, of the Jane Doeбпs I found, she has enough qualifications to be a lot of things. Actually, a few very specific things.

    [14:49][Cantre11]: Such as?

    [14:49][Misser D]: Poisoner, domestic terrorist, vault-cracker, drug dealer, poet.

    [14:49][Pughly]: One of these is not like the others.

    [14:49][Misser D]: It was somehow the most surprising of the bunch, yes. She sets off enough red flags that Iбпm actually kind of amazed we didnбпt clue in sooner.

    [14:49][Cantre11]: How the fuck did the ARG rope her in if sheбпs so dangerous?

    [14:49][Misser D]: Iбпm actually about ready to initiate a full-scale investigation for that exact reason.

    [14:50][auger]: Such a thing would be intensely undesirable.

    [14:50][Misser D]: Did you guys know when you hired her on?

    [14:50][auger]: You mistake my allegiance, even if my intent is one in the same.

    [14:50][Misser D]: I donбпt have time for abstract bullshit and you know it.

    [14:50][auger]: The ones responsible for her б░recruitmentб▒, as you would consider it, were far less discriminate than I.

    [14:50][Cantre11]: Make sure to get that down in the spreadsheet.

    [14:50][Misser D]: Cantre11, unless Iбпm 100% certain the crazy bitch isnбпt going to blow up the city they built their set in, there is no more ARG.

    [14:50][Pughly]: Donбпt be a partypooper.

    [14:50][auger]: I will put it like this. Unlike you, she has no ability to influence Earth.

    [14:50][Misser D]: Thatбпs bullshit but Iбпll buy it. If sheбпs not turned in by the end of the week, Iбпm starting an investigation.

    [14:50][auger]: That is entirely doable. б░lolб▒.

    [14:50][RooDzz]: Uh, is anyone else actually watching the blog?

    [14:50][Free Parking]: I am. Iбпm good with multitasking so Itбпs not so bad to have both open.

    [14:50][Beholeth]: Imagine the headlines. б░Potential mass murderer surprises catб▒.

    [14:50][RooDzz]: I wonder what took them so long.

    [14:50][Cantre11]: She almost seems like an entirely different person.

    [14:50][Free Parking]: At some point she started flourishing and pirouetting and she hasnбпt stopped.

    [14:50][Pughly]: Lookit Chica getting all jealous.

    [14:51][RooDzz]: Gen doesnбпt actually seem too interested. Actually, he might be more than a little cognizant of what sort of person she really is.

    [14:51][Cantre11]: That is not the sort of face a guy looking at a woman that pretty should make.

    [14:51][RooDzz]: Exactly.

    [14:51][Pughly]: Crazy girl is the only sane person in this whole scene

    [14:51][Misser D]: б░Hey, letбпs toss all the explosives in one place!б▒

    [14:51][Free Parking]: lol

    [14:51][LaForest]: I just wonder why they need it all.

    [14:51][Cantre11]: Army of killer plants.

    [14:51][RooDzz]: Weбпve done killer plants, maybe itбпll be killer bugs next?

    [14:51][Free Parking]: Too cliche.

    [14:51][Beholeth]: Oh shit weбпre on the air! And here I thought they muted the suggestion box.

    [14:51][LaForest]: Iбпve been flooding it, too.

    [14:51][Cantre11]: Iбпm famous now!

    [14:51][Misser D]: Told you it wasnбпt a боpirate coatбп. The dudeбпs clearly a Prussiaboo.

    [14:51][RooDzz]: Stream cut.

    [14:51][Cantre11]: same

    [14:51][Beholeth]: yup

    [14:51][Pughly]: puy

    [14:51][Free Parking]: can we not do this every time something vaguely out of the ordinary happens?

    [14:51][Pughly]: fuck you, pay me

    [14:51][Beholeth]: Thereбпs a time and a place for memespouting.

    [14:51][Pughly]: That time is now and that place is here

    [14:51][Cantre11]: Misser D, make sure to note that the stream cut as soon as a character actually tried to talk to us.

    [14:51][auger]: It is a consequence of how the link was constructed.

    [14:51][Misser D]: Noted.

    [14:52][Free Parking]: Even with the strange end, I think this was somehow more exciting than the murderplante episode.

    [14:52][RooDzz]: I got here late and it still seemed longer.

    [14:52][Cantre11]: A lot to look forward to, I guess.

    [14:52][LaForest]: So weбпre just going to leave, or what?

    [14:52][Cantre11]: Iбпll hang around for a bit and give you guys a heads up if it comes back.

    [14:52][Beholeth]: Well, itбпs been fun! Adieu

    [14:52][Pughly]: Local garden gnome is now French

    [14:52][Beholeth]: Wait, is that French?

    [14:52][Cantre11]: Local garden gnome is now braindamaged.

    [14:57][RooDzz]: Something about this whole thing just doesnбпt feel right.

    [15:00][Cantre11]: What do you mean?

    [15:00][RooDzz]: A little too real. Too consistent. Like, why even cast someone like Merrilyn?

    [15:00][Cantre11]: They couldnбпt have known.

    [15:00][RooDzz]: Coincidences arenбпt so easy to find.

    [15:01][Cantre11]: You sound like auger.

    [15:01][RooDzz]: Itбпs just weird, thatбпs all.

    [15:01][auger]: All shall be revealed, and sooner than you think.

    [15:01][Cantre11]: like the fuckling oracle of delphi

    [15:01][auger]: I am not she. I do not understand how you could even mistake us, since you have met her already.

    [15:01][RooDzz]: and now Iбпm glad I stuck around after all. The guyбпs as loose as a faucet this time.

    [15:01][Contre11]: Iбпm hoping it doesnбпt mean the ARG is almost over, itбпd be sad to see it end so quickly.

    [15:01][Contre11]: Iбпve been getting a weird vibe too, though.

    [15:01][RooDzz]: What do you mean?

    [15:01][Contre11]: Itбпs about the way this all went down. The names, especially. Why is she боthe conduitбп?

    [15:02][RooDzz]: I thought it just meant like a tube.

    [15:02][Contre11]: Yeah, exactly. A tube to let us in, right?

    [15:02][Contre11]: So what does that make auger?

    [15:02][RooDzz]: I looked it up just now. Itбпs an old word for a drill.

    [15:02][Contre11]: Yeah. A drill that bores out a hole, a cylindrical tube- a conduit.

    [15:02][RooDzz]: Iбпm not sure what to make of that.

    [15:02][Contre11]: Neither am I.

    [15:02][Beholeth]: clearly that means he wants to bore out the conduitбпs hole.

    [15:03][Beholeth]: hole(s)

    [15:02][Contre11]: You are the worst and Iбпm done here

    [15:03][RooDzz]: Well, see you guys next time, I guess? Bye

 036: "And maybe well come back,"

    Thereбпs some comfort in routine. Gen had begun to develop some sense of normality in the New World. Heбпd even almost started to enjoy it, in a strange sort of way. Sure, theyбпd have to fight giant insectoids from time to time, but he bent himself backwards to carve out a guarantee that he and his people could return to safe walls, functioning sewers, and a slowly modernizing City. That fact made it easy to forget that, as far as they were concerned, the vast majority of Humankind were dead and gone. Even the боfeudбп between the Rebels and his citizens was mostly just for show, a sport that gave them all something to preoccupy themselves with. His relationship with Kat gave him something to keep busy with.

    Gen talked with Krella for hours on end in the interrogation room, one of the few modern places in the entire City. It had been modeled entirely after real-world police station designs- it was a pet project for a few citizens, but it hadnбпt seen any actual use. For all the chatter and questioning, the only thing he could guarantee was that things would have to change, and in a big way. The Centurionбпs troopers were just a reconnaissance unit. While the city handled them with little issue, that was mostly the product of their unpreparedness. Had the enemy been given time to set up their teleportation device, nearly four times as many Horned Men would have taken part in the fight. That alone would be a nightmare to deal with, but it could theoretically be managed with some luck and grit. The situation was far direr than just that, though. The orders Krellaбпs race received had been to dispatch a significant chunk of their forces, and as he explained what that meant, Gen grew less and less confident.

    б░The council had been reluctant to send any troops,б▒ he said, б░but with our teleporterбпs destruction in mind? Theyбпll make no such mistake again.б▒ In more practical terms, that meant tens and tens of airships, all loaded to the brim with hundreds of men, all armed and ready for a hostile landing. Apparently, some sort of universal government generally prohibited боhigher racesбп to be dispatched to an боouter ringбп, but they made a unique exception just to deal with the Human problem. As far as Krella could remember, a race or two had been exterminated for slipping in even a fraction of the number of troops, yet his own had been given full reprieve just for that one job.

    At least they would have a few days before the enemy arrived, but only so much could be done in that time. Even after letting Krella run off to go do something or another, Gen spent a good while procrastinating, mulling over their every option. In the end, he always came back to one particular solution, quite possibly their only hope. The only problem was that, like any solution, it had its own hosts of downsides. Downsides serious enough to make the always-punctual General of the City of Man delay his decision even while their adversaries got ever closer. Resigned, he stood, leaving the dusky room.

    He made sure a few of his adjutants would be ready to receive him once the questioning was finished. It was a long walk between the two rooms, and Gen wouldnбпt have been even a little surprised if they ran off. Instead, they were all still there, bored out of their minds as they were. Ayala was slouched over the table, one massive hand tapping rhythmically on it as she looked through the menagerie of documents strewn about on its surface. The City had finally made a little assembly for plant stripping, and while they didnбпt have the time or manpower to make anything too fancy, theyбпd started putting together the important things like language booklets for basic Commons and maps of the area. As Gen entered, the Warden shot to her feet, fully at attention. The womanбпs expression was severe, even by her standards.

    б░How bad is it?б▒ She asked, but Gen shook his head. б░Too bad. Iбпll explain in detail when we get my civilians together.б▒ He paused. б░The Rebels, too. Weбпre going to need to keep them in the loop on this one.б▒

    Merrilyn had been humming and bobbing her head from side to side, but she stilled once he began to speak. б░Smells like game over to me! Iбпm going to have to can our new project, arenбпt I?б▒

    Gen nodded. б░Weбпre pretty far gone. Youбпre going to have to pop the lid on the Bunker, tooбн Any chance you can bring out the Executioner?б▒

    Thereбпs a difference between being still and being frozen in time. When Gen asked that question, Merrilyn stopped moving entirely, an eerie freeze-frame. It made her jubilance suddenly uncanny, like how pictures sometimes make happy moments feel fake or forced. A chuckle emanated from her throat, as unmoving as it was. б░You know it doesnбпt work like that, silly! I donбпt think thatбпd be a good idea, anyway.б▒

    The Warden looked between the two, mystified. б░I do not follow,б▒ she said, б░what does боExecutionerбп mean?б▒ The two humans had slipped too seamlessly between this worldбпs Commons and English, hardly realizing theyбпd done it. Gen hadnбпt known, but he had always used their silly боtitlesбп in English, even speaking aloud. That oddity beggared closer inspection- later, since there were more important things to be dealt with. He exchanged a glance with Merrilyn, and she finally began to move once more, slowly rebuilding pieces of her fa?ade. Things like allowing her chest to fall and rise as she breathed or like carefully correcting her posture to look more friendly and welcoming. Gen had gotten used to the woman over the time theyбпd known each-other, but this particular part of her always gave him chills. People werenбпt meant to change themselves so completely on a mere whim.

    б░Itбпs nothing, Ayala,б▒ she said cheerfully, б░Gen was just momentarily confused. Elson, are we clear to put a lid over the Bunker?б▒

    Elson had been quiet. The man was always attentive, or at least pretended to be. When Gen entered the room, he hadnбпt even reacted outside of a small nod that may or may not have actually happened. He preferred to let people fill in the blanks, leaving his mind to wander and ponder over new floorplans, interesting uses of materials, and the art of a finely built wall. Still, when Merrilyn asked a question, he was ready to answer in a heartbeat. It was part of his work, and Elson never let anyone distract him from his work- not even himself. So, answer he did.

    б░Yes.б▒

    Ayala turned, startled. She had almost forgotten the man was in the room, which was a bit unusual for her. She worked with the Architect on more than one occasion, but he wasnбпt an easy man to get a feel for. When it came to brick and mortar, he was almost excitable, but otherwise he seemed to hover about like an emotionless mannequin. Out of all the mysterious mages the Human infestation had presented her with, his powers were the easiest to understand. It was a small comfort, but after so much time dealing with the rest, his brand of weird was probably her favorite. She liked to punch things, so she channeled her power into punching things. He liked buildings, so he channeled his power into buildings. Simple and straightforward, two admirable traits. She just wished heбпd be a little more conversational.

    б░Letбпs walk while we talk,б▒ Gen said, б░Iбпll explain a bit more on the way.б▒

    The other two joined Ayala on their feet. Merrilyn bounced her way to the door that lead to the main hall, holding it open for them. Gen nodded graciously, and they started on their way down it, General taking point.

    б░ETA?б▒ Merrilyn asked. б░Err, I mean боtime of arrivalбп?б▒ She added awkwardly, mostly for Ayalaбпs benefit.

    б░Weбпre looking at about five days, maybe less,б▒ Gen said. It was a grave situation, and it wouldnбпt do him any good to sugarcoat it.

    б░How many soldiers?б▒ Ayala asked nervously. She had seen how deadly the higher race was from their skirmish and how they contributed to extermination of the Gorgon Bug, and even with the Humansбп unusual efficacy and fancy weapons, she wasnбпt sure how many more of them they could handle.

    б░Low estimate of eight thousand.б▒

    б░Cease your lies,б▒ she hissed, б░I will not take kindly to it, even if it is for your боjokesбп. If there were so many enemies, you would not be so relaxed.б▒

    Gen looked back. Ayala was wide-eyed and agitated, somewhere between shock and fury. It was about the reaction heбпd had when Krella told him. б░Youбпd be surprised,б▒ he said. б░I think Iбпve got a way for everyone to survive.б▒

    б░Every human, perhaps,б▒ she spat, but Gen just smiled at her.

    б░Natives, too. Actually, I think more of our guys will be at risk,б▒ he retorted.

    б░I give it a ten percent chance of working as intended!б▒ Merrilyn said, bubbly as can be. Ayala looked between her and Gen, shock subsiding into confusion.

    б░Ten percent? Oh, ye of little faith,б▒ Gen said, and Merrilyn giggled.

    б░Iбпd bump it up depending on how far youбпre willing to go,б▒ she said, б░but we both know youбпre going to chicken out when it comes time for боrisk managementбп.б▒

    Gen scowled and turned forward again, staring out ahead. They were most of the way to their destination now, the very same common room that theyбпd camped out in when they first arrived at the fort. He couldnбпt argue with Merrilynбпs assessment, even if he wanted to- he knew it to be true. It was why he asked for her to pull out боthe Executionerбп, in fact. Heбпd never try something quite so suicidal if it wasnбпt his armyбпs best shot at getting through mostly unscathed. All things considered, it might have been for the best that Merrilyn turned him down. Letting her go all-out at a time like this had its advantages, but there was no telling what would happen if she got out of hand.

    The main hall was sparely populated, which was a little shocking. Even without the rebels bolstering their overall population, the room typically had a good number of people hanging about to eat, study, or plan, scattering across the endless tables and benches. Today, Gen only saw maybe six people, and about half were from Jamesбп camp. He recognized the Songstress, who made a point of glaring at him as soon as he entered the room, but the other two he couldnбпt particularly remember. His half was mostly familiar faces. A particularly nondescript young man sat across a table from Ramirez, the Gardener, and the two of them were chatting excitedly. Ramirez listened to the other man speaking with his eyes open wide. His plant magic was pretty impressive in the recent fight, and given how the guy usually blustered and preened, it was strange that he wasnбпt himself droning on and on about his experience. Either the nondescript young man was a particularly good storyteller or he had done something exceptionally important, and the thought of not easily identifying someone more valuable than the Gardener made Gen more than a little uncomfortable.

    The Nameless Girl was keeled over on another table half way across the room, head in hands. She hadnбпt even been watching to see when heбпd arrive. Her survival had been a small miracle, and she certainly looked worse for wear, crisscrossed in cuts, bruises, and abrasions alike. Gen felt bad for leaving her behind, but clearly it had been the right call. Probably. Seeing her all alone reminded Gen of a few people who were missing. The rest of the upper echelon of their little society were supposed to hang around and wait for a situation report, but even Jim had apparently ditched. Kat not being there was a given- no amount of anxiety could keep that girl sitting still for minutes, let alone hours.

    б░Alright,б▒ he said, and the stragglers looked up at him. б░Weбпre going to need to get the rest our Citizens together. Rebels, too.б▒ The Songstress grunted at him, and he looked over to her.

    Her glare had turned into a little frown, and she shook her head. Gen started to ask why, but Ramirez cut in before he could voice his thoughts. б░Thatбпs going to be a tall order, boss. Theyбпre all too busy brawling.б▒

    Gen then turned to Ramirez, expecting a wry smile and wiggling eyebrows, but to his surprise, he didnбпt seem to be joking. Ramirez turned most things into jokes, but for him to be so sincereбн б░What do you mean?б▒

    He shrugged, pointed to the front door, and turned back to talk more with the other guy sitting at the table. Gen strode over to the door, annoyed. Up until the moment he flung it open, he was completely certain that Ramirez just messing with him. Why would the citizenry be brawling right after surviving a foreign invasion and giant bug onslaught? They couldnбпt possibly be so stupid.

    They proved him wrong. Bodies were strewn across the grass of the plateau, riddled with bruises. Thankfully, no one seemed to be outright dead, or at least from what Gen could tell. The fighting was still going on, people of all shapes and sizes joining in on the brawl. Even a few Goblins were mixed in, no doubt mistaking the wanton violence for a training exercise. Heбпd operated an Earth style boot camp for Goblins in his spare time, so it wasnбпt an entirely unreasonable guess on their part. No one had brought out weapons, and magic seemed to be off-limits, which was probably the only reason no one had been out and out murdered. He could spot a number of familiar faces, but not any of his immediate acquaintances, and certainly not Jim or James, the two people he wanted to see most. Merrilyn giggled behind him when she caught up, just loud enough for some of the nearest combatants to hear.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Heads turned like a wave, an infectious distraction spreading out from those first few to notice him. The fighting ground to a halt, all eyes suddenly trained on Gen. б░What in the hell is going on?б▒ He shouted, and there was an uncomfortable shuffling, like children caught in the middle of misbehaving. One young man pulled himself free of his opponentбпs grip and stood, dusting himself off.

    б░Tyrant, your time is done!б▒ He shouted, clearly falling within the purview of the Rebel camp. His retort earned him a stiff shove from behind, and he toppled over. The person he had been fighting was a middle-aged woman, one that Gen did recognize. She was part of the task force that had planned out the Bunker, working in tandem with Elson and Merrilyn, utilizing some of her civil background to ensure the structural plans were sound. She looked a little embarrassed, clearing her throat and dipping her head penitently.

    б░The Rebels got real rowdy the moment their leaders ran off,б▒ she said, б░and we may or may not have challenged them to a fight.б▒ When she finished speaking, she hurriedly looked away, shuffling awkwardly.

    Gen sighed. Theyбпd manage to put away the two sidesбп issues thanks to a few well-timed murders and an immediate threat, but it could only be cordoned away for so long. Really, it was probably lucky that things hadnбпt gotten a bit more lethal. б░And the City Guard approved?б▒ He asked, exasperated. It was more of a rhetorical question than anything, since the City Guard hadnбпt even bothered to show up.

    Ayala coughed behind him. б░I gave them all a day off after last night,б▒ she said, apologetic. б░Perhaps that was a bad idea.б▒

    Gen shot her a glare. Sure, heбпd drained enough mana from a few of them to leave them unconscious, but that was no reason for a vacation! Fallen in the line of duty, such and such. If they kept going down this road, heбпd have to fund a PTSD clinic, and the City really didnбпt have time for that. It was probably a good thing that getting stolen away and dropped in the New World fucked with their Human sensibilities so much. Unsurprisingly, everyone being just a bit боoffбп made managing their terrible situation much easier.

    Even the Rebels were starting to look a little embarrassed. He glared down at the crowd, hoping it was domineering enough to keep them under control for just a little longer. б░I was hoping to announce our standing to everyone, anyway. Where did James run off to?б▒

    The Songstress answered that question, uncomfortably close behind him. Far closer than the table sheбпd been sitting at before, at least. б░Jimбпs feeling in a bad way. James is escorting him to chase around energy, or something,б▒ she said.

    The crowd had finally started to really pull itself back together, bar the poor saps who really had been knocked silly. б░Whatбпs so important that weбпd need to listen to you!б▒ One intrepid teen shouted, a girl about his age. He remembered her as a Programmer candidate and one of Jamesбп initial group. Honestly, Gen hadnбпt expected to see her still alive.

    б░Well, weбпre abandoning the City of Man, for one,б▒ He said. It came out nonchalant, hardly louder than his normal speaking voice, but everyone went silent. Well, except for Merrilyn. She just giggled some more, muttering something about how she боknew itбп. He walked out of the doorway, taking a step or two down to the grass, and shocked stares of the people outside- Human and Goblin alike- followed his gait. Ayala followed him frantically, hovering near his ear.

    б░You promised me a plan,б▒ she snarled at him, as quietly as she could manage. б░Do you know how much blood and carnage it took to get a handle on this god-forsaken city? You show up, remodel it into something even better, and then tell us to leave it behind?б▒ The City really had taken on new life during its occupation. The residual expertise, common knowledge, and natural ambitions of their human invaders to rebuild a small piece of Earth had turned it into something almost entirely new. Month over month, it had become easier to defend, earned a highly advanced and fully functional mining network for the first time in decades, quadrupled in maximum citizen capacity, undergone significant reconstruction (admittedly due to blowing up or incinerating entire districts), and rebuilt its facilities in such a way that they were on the cusp of entering a pre-Industrial boom. Leaving the place behind would be a tragedy, especially since the Gomen were only just now coming to terms with their human occupiers.

    б░No, no,б▒ Gen said aloud. б░You get to stay, Warden. In fact, you get your city back. Congratulations!б▒ Then he grunted, an annoyed little huff. б░Temporarily, at least.б▒

    Ayala stared at him blankly for a moment before realization exploded through her eyes like a lighter droppedin a powderkeg. б░You canбпt be serious,б▒ she said, her voice shocked into awhisper.

    Merrilyn cackled, cute giggling completed devolved into maniacal laughter, only briefly pausing to answer the Warden''s question before Gen could get a word in edgewise. б░Heбпs dead serious. The planбпs exactly as dumb as you''re thinking, too.б▒

    Gen decided to let that be that and instead addressed the crowd once more. б░Our enemy is sailing ever closer. They dwarf our numbers, so much so that not even the Cityбпs high walls and you Rebelsбп absolute compliance will keep us alive. I have a very simple plan, and hereбпs how it goes.б▒

    He threw an arm into the air, one finger pointed at the sky. б░First, we will get our other facilities locked up. The Goblins and Gomen will pretend we were never here, and ideally, Krellaбпs troop will play along. They were attacked by a giant bug, which is true enough, and thatбпs where the missing soldiers have gone. If they get called on it, the Cityбпs residents were threatened into submission, and Krellaбпs troop were under tight supervision. The mystery will keep them here for long enough that we can book it. The Horned Men are a higher race, and regulations say they wonбпt be allowed to run about executing natives. Thank God for Bureaucracy.б▒

    A small cheer went up for Bureaucracy, possibly for the first time in human history. Gen felt a small pang in his chest, sad to know that it would never be written down. With the death of his pioneer generation, such marvels would be lost forever. Another finger went up. б░Second, we will split into two groups. Weбпre going to run right the fuck away from each-other, as fast as we can. When our cover is blown, itбпll be harder for them to catch us all if they split forces. Some of you may be thinking боbut if they have so many troops, why wouldnбпt they just send half one way and half the otherбп.б▒ He said, and the Rebel girl from before crossed her arms and pouted. Nailed it.

    He put one last finger up. б░Third. If we find civilization, weбпre going to scatter. From now on weбпre a hapless race of not-Gomen named the боWisemenбп because Humankindбпs, and my own, hubris knows no bounds. We spread as thin as we can in areas as populated as we can. Infiltration. Each person will do as they like, as long as боwhat they likeбп either ensures increased control over a region or keeps them otherwise alive. One big rule: When the time comes, weбпre going to pool everything together again. Defectors will be dealt with боseverelyбп.б▒ He turned his hand down, instead pointing at the metal hookaffixed where his other hand should be.б░Severely,б▒ he repeated, every bit as deliberate as a teacher laying down the law fora particularly petulantschoolchild.

    Everyone shuffled about uncomfortably, and chatting started. People talked, no matter what side they were on. The tone seemed to be increasingly nervous, a general anxiety sweeping over the crowd. The people who had been found farther out in the Floodplains seemed especially nervous, no doubt uncomfortable to start yet another exodus. Gen suddenly regretted not stressing the fact that the area humanity was dumped in was, in fact, the most sparsely populated and savage area around. Krella had made it quite clear that after you pass the Jungle and mountain ranges to the one side youбпd hit a relatively successful centralized kingdom of Goblins occupying the same space as a race of dog-men, and the other side was something of a perpetual suburb, with loads of disparate peoples running tribes and villages almost close enough to touch, forming something like city-states along a generally temperate region of land.

    One hesitant voice rose from the mumbling crowd. б░W-Why not just run боawayбп? If theyбпre coming from the North, why go East or West?б▒ He asked, clearly uncomfortable with being on the spot.

    Gen groaned. б░I was hoping no one would ask,б▒ he said. б░It turns out the landmass weбпre on is a literal ring.б▒

    The conversation ground to a halt once more. б░Thatбпsбн not possible,б▒ the older woman from before huffed. б░Even more preposterous than a semi-flattened planetoid. Gravity would never,б▒ more voices joined in, a cacophony of generally smart people dismissing a generally dumb idea. б░The sunбпs path wouldnбпt-б▒, б░moon phases are still the s-б░, б░our path of exodus correlated to the angular velocity of the-б░, so on and so forth. Gen put his hand up, hushing the chatter.

    б░I can answer all of your questions easily enough,б▒ he said, earning a scoff from more than a few of the particularly educated among the crowd. It actually hurt his feelings a little. Sure, he was young, but he wasnбпt stupid! б░Itбпs simple: Itбпs magic, and that means I donбпt have to explain shit,б▒

    The momentary confusion was cut down handily. Given the situation, no one could deny that боmagicбп could fuck up the way things were meant to operate. Merrilynбпs crew seemed to be messing around with integral laws of physics, and that was just one example. A flat, ring-shaped planet spinning around a pyramid of other flat, ring-shaped planets suddenly sounds reasonable when you consider the kinetic dynamics of giant bug monsters that shoot petrification beams.

    б░Focus on the topic at hand, please.б▒ Gen said. б░Weбпve got a lot of work to do. Elson,б▒ he called behind him, and the big man joined him outside. б░This man may not be familiar to many of you. Heбпs our Cityбпs architect and planner. Say hello, Elson.б▒

    Elson grunted.

    б░Very good. He will lead a troop to shut away the Bunker and initiate plan боradical remodelбп.б▒ He said, right about the same time the боBoom Roomбп exploded once and for all. Scrap metal and concrete flew for a solid forty or so feet through the air in every direction, propelled like shrapnel by the blast. At some point during the flat-planetoid debate, Merrilyn slipped away to go do the honors. Crazy bitch.

    б░Scratch that,б▒ he added, ignoring their seemingly perpetual shock. The Cityбпs civilians in particular should have been used to it by now, at least. No point looking like an idiot every time something vaguely interesting happened. б░just shut away the bunker and clean up the mess.б▒

    Gen turned to the side, nodding at Ayala. She was hardly surprised by the turn of events, perhaps desensitized to random explosions at this point. б░I want you to get your people caught up on the situation. Iбпllбн handle the Goblins.б▒

    Ayala nodded gravely. б░What makes you think we will, or should, comply with this?б▒ She asked. It felt more like a probing question than a real challenge, and Gen shrugged. б░Weбпve brought a lot of good things and relatively few bad. Also, I could have the entire hill leveled by nightfall if I so chose.б▒

    She blanched and hurried off, not daring to challenge that particular assertion. Really, the Warden had been prepared to go along with the plan anyway, but not having the ground cave in under them would certainly be a great motivator. After the way the General had handled the last civilization to challenge him, she couldnбпt even doubt his conviction. In some ways, sheбпd been letting the relative lethality of Humans settle into the back of her mind, treating them more like normal Gomen than anything else. It seemed like every time she finally got comfortable, she was reminded quite thoroughly of how dangerous they really were. The insane quantity of higher race troops dispatched suddenly made an awful lot of sense.

    Gen turned back to the crowd. б░Anyone here work with Merrilyn?б▒ He said, and one kid, beaten black and blue, raised his hand. б░How much have we learned from the battery?б▒

    The kid cringed. б░Nothing.б▒ He said. It took him a moment, but he nervously added б░sir,б▒ skittishly. б░Nothing at all?б▒ Gen asked, prodding. He got a shrug in return. б░бпneed more time,б▒ the kid said. б░All we know is it uses some sort of rock.б▒

    Gen was a little surprised. A rock? б░What sort of rock?б▒ He asked, intent. The kid frowned. б░Itбпs shiny and very round,б▒ he said, squinting as if trying to remember what it looked like. Gen sighed. He wasnбпt going to get much info out of this particular боresearcherбп, sadly. б░I want you to go and tell them to get everything packed up,б▒ he said. He looked back at the Boom Room, scanning the wreckage for the Imposter herself. б░Merrilyn is боbusyбп.б▒

    The kid hustled off, barely pausing to say ''bye''. He seemed happy to be allowed to do anything other than talk to Gen, which was fair enough. Gen''sreputation hadnбпt exactly mellowed out over time. Still, how the kid could work with Merrilyn comfortably and still be nervous around him was a mystery of the highest order. He could only really chalk that one down to the natural superpower of ''having boobs''.

    Almost on que, someonerappedhim on the temple, as though punishing him for his flippant thoughts.Gen tipped over sideways, throwing himself into a squat that left him primed to launch himself at whoever it was that snuck up on him. Really, though, that was all for show. Only Kat and a few particularly talented Goblins could sneak up on him so soundly. The excessive reaction was more for her benefit than his own. She laughed at him, a few members of the crowd joining in. Gen took mental note of those particular faces for later use. б░Whatбпs going on?б▒ She asked, and he stood back up, shrugging.

    б░Worldбпs flat and weбпre running like hell,б▒ he said. Kat smiled and nodded. б░Sounds like fun!б▒ She exclaimed, б░just like old times.б▒ Gen pointed to her, then glared out at the crowd. б░See! This is the appropriate reaction to being givennew information,б▒ he said, which wasnбпt strictly true. The somewhat injured citizens seemed guilty, though, and thatбпs what matters.

    He looked at Kat, frowning. б░Weren''t the other two along with you?б▒ He asked, curious. There was no way that Kat would leave Jim and company in dire straits, so heбпd expected the three of them to show up at around the same time. Instead of answering his question, she just smiled and waited. Someone cleared their throat behind him, awfully close to his back.

    He spun around and dodged back once more, growling. б░Stop doing that!б▒ He saw who it was: Jim was lowering James to his feet, the two of them descending from the sky. Jim really did look ragged, but he already seemed a lot better off than how he had looked the night before. Truly, losing such a reliable weapon to James was one of Genбпs biggest regrets. It wasn''t utterly silent like Kat''s, but it was still more than subtle enough to be lethal if Jim was given the right situation.

    James dangled from Jim''s grip and smiled down at him, practically beaming. б░So, weбпre going on a road trip, huh?б▒ He asked, entirely too excited at the prospect.

    Gen gritted his teeth. б░Yes, James. Weбпre going on a road trip.б▒

    James whipped the crowd into an uproar, and by the time he was finished riling them up, everyone was chanting б░Road Trip! Road Trip!б▒

    They left before nightfall.

 037: Time to Climb (unfortunately)

    An endless mountain. The cliff stretched unapologetically into the sky, some errant peaks going so far as to puncture the very clouds. Across the wall of rock and stone fell and flew cascades of water, eventually reaching the ground to rake scores across the jungle floor and, all force now expended from the impact, the new streams gently wandered off, perhaps towards the floodplains or even deeper into the Jungle. The ground itself near the base of the mountain was largely barren, worn away by years of water and wear, essentially just squishy black dirt marred only by chunks of stone half-embedded into the ground after their fall.

    By almost everyoneбпs estimation, the scene was impossible, too ridiculous to be real. The mountain was too sheer, and far too tall, to actually exist. Sure, humanity had managed to create some really crazy shit during the Era of Great Works, but they werenбпt on Earth anymore. To their knowledge, there was no species this far out who could bring such extreme alterations to the geography, leaving most certain that the only real explanation was magical, perhaps even divine intervention.

    James knew better. Meandering the боnet, heбпd come across more than his fair share of clickbait sites, promising everything from боcrazy photo you wonбпt believe are realбп to боunedited footage of the pastбп. Most of it was total bullshit, of course, but interspersed in the garbage were hidden gems, nuggets of time long past and amazing sights. Rather than a mountain, this thing reminded him of the Bandiagara Escarpment, a massive fault-line formation that used to be located somewhere in the west half of the African Quarter.

    Sure, he had something to compare it with, but that only made the naturalistic explanation even more troubling. The Bandiagara Escarpment was easily a hundred kilometers long, but it was only ever about five hundred meters tall, while this mountain range was at least three times that, and when they approached it, it swamped their horizon while they were some-odd fifty kilometers out, implying that it could be upwards of five hundred kilometers lengthwise. Furthermore, if it was an old fault, why hadnбпt it begun to erode? The Bandiagara had preserved much of its cliff-like nature, sure, but even the pictures James had seen didnбпt display something this extreme.

    Their task seemed so simple: climb the mountains, get all buddy-buddy with the people up top, take shelter from the impending invasion. James had argued vociferously that finding allies would be a far superior solution over the out-and-out exploitation Gen was planning, but in the thick of the debate heбпd failed to account for the actual journey between them leaving the City and getting to meet the new races.

    To be fair, Gen probably hadnбпt realized it would be this way, either. The Warden said to be ready for a climb, but she didnбпt say the climb would be this intimidating. That would feel like a trick as well, but it was just as likely that she figured theyбпd invent magic shoes and waltz their way up the wall, casual as can be. Certainly, the image of humanity theyбпd given the locals was precisely the sort who could do the undoable, and James wished it was that simple. б░Why did we even bother to finish the trip? Should have just done a боUбп turn and chased after Genбпs cadre while we had the chance.б▒

    Someone thumped him on the back of the head. б░No way itбпs actually that tall, wait and see,б▒ they answered, using a pitch-perfect, and uncomfortably accurate, imitation of Jamesбп own voice. Naturally, that had to be Madeline. Ever since her magic kicked into high gear, her actual vocal talents had begun to develop in tandem, rapidly adopting some unnatural qualities. James looked over to his left, glaring at her as she stood to one side and stared absentmindedly into the sky, probably puzzling out how high up the peak must have been.

    б░Thatбпs real damn creepy, you know?б▒ Jim said, filling up the flanks off to his right. James turned to look over his other shoulder; Jim was staring up at the mountain as well, but rather than trying to spot the peak, he seemed to be scanning the cliff-face itself, perhaps hunting for a decent route up. The soldier was endlessly practical, and even if he was a lot paler and a good deal more youthful looking now, his nature hadnбпt really changed.

    б░He asked, I answered,б▒ Madeline said, voice falling back to her normal register. Flouncing forward a few steps ahead of the guys, she pouted and pointed up at the sky, waving her arms wildly for emphasis. She didnбпt even have to aim in the right direction, the mountain so all-encompassing that no-one would mistake what she was referring to. б░Heбпs the one who said weбпd get over this damn thing!б▒

    James sighed. б░Yeah, but the hike seemed far more reasonable a few kilos out. We might still be able to make it. People used to climb Everest, you know?б▒

    б░A whole bunch of them died, and Everest wasnбпt a goddamn cliff!б▒ She rebutted. б░Do you know how many days itбпll take us to even get a third of the way up this thing?б▒

    Jim grunted. He had a decent idea of how long itбпd take, but arguments and indecision wouldnбпt get anyone anywhere. б░Stop fighting in front of the kids.б▒

    The other two hushed. No one liked it when their leaders fought, especially not when either or both sides were popular. If they got too rowdy, even half joking, they might spook the herd, even force them to pick sides. James was already part of one fake боrivalryбп and plenty happy to keep that number low. For her part, Madeline was just the nonconfrontational sort. It would have been a serious hang-up back home- nonconfrontational divas fizzle fast. That wasnбпt much of a problem, here, mostly due to lack of competition.

    James could already feel the crowd wavering. Of course, it wasnбпt like the Rebels were going to actually rebel, but it wouldnбпt be much of a challenge to shake their faith in his leadership at this point. Hell, his mistake could very well cost them all their lives. They didnбпt have nearly as much time to spare before the enemies arrived as one might like, and the hike certainly wouldnбпt help. He cast out his mana, allowing the боhooksбп to sink in, ever so slightly guiding attention back his way.

    б░Alright, alright,б▒ He said, turning around to face them forthrightly. Familiar faces? Multiple useful subordinates both attentive and ready. Several people getting nervous. Mostly those under the age of twenty, unlikely to cause a stir once a goal was established. The trouble was, then, was which people he chose to take the reins. Heбпd spent a lot of effort befriending and investigating the people of his group, evaluating their strengths and failings, finding suitable talents. Gen got away with a much more hands-on approach, but James had made a point of delegation. The mooks died a long time ago, after all. Why not utilize the talents of those who had survived?

    б░You, Brett? Yeah, I want you and the boys to start working on dropping trees and weeding vines. Weбпre going to want ladders and ropes, too many to count.б▒

    A sallow figure nodded and quietly shuffled off, not even bothering to check behind. Wordlessly, a whole swathe of rebels split off to follow him, falling in line. James had met Brett fairly early on, even before heбпd begun his journey to real leadership. Brett was a small man, and sickly to boot, but despite his appearances, he was a force of nature- back home, heбпd been the sole inheritor of a MMA gym, a role that heбпd taken to like a fish to water. Few words, big punches, and at least so far as Jim had told him, Brett was the only other man in the Rebels that had a боmilitary vibeбп, whatever that meant.

    More than a few people had doubted Brettбпs prowess, but in time, it became something of a novelty. Almost every man in the camp had at one point or another challenged him to an arm-wrestling contest, and to Jamesбп knowledge, he was still undefeated. Rather than strength, Brett explained that it was a matter of technique and tuning, but even after heбпd shown everyone the боtricksбп heбпd used to win, nobody was able to match him. Around that time, the naysayers fell away. Brett was respected enough to lead a company, but not ambitious enough to start a revolt- a solid workhorse.

    James turned back around. б░Madeline, I want you and most of the rest setting up camp and stripping whatever vines they bring back. Youбпre going to want a lot of hands, so donбпt be shy.б▒ She nodded, strutting off to make good on his orders. Madeline herself was highly competent, and had unique talents in magic, so she was a natural pick for another leadership position. Initially, James had doubted she would be as useful as she was, but long months cooperating in the forests had given him time to realize that she could handle herself. It was a small shame that she wasnбпt in on the secret, but given that she seemed to have a fully functioning moral compass, it might have been for the best anyway.

    Finally, he turned to Jim. б░Youбпre managing exploration. I want you to pick out a crew and get us on a roll. Less we flounder, faster weбпre out of this eternally damp hell-hole.б▒

    The Cultivator nodded, scanning the crowd. Heбпd really only want one guy, any more would be inconvenient due to their mode of travel, so itбпd be easiest to pick a couple and have the extras stand backup. Best case scenario, when he started pulling double-shifts, the help could swap out. Not having anyone was a tempting option, too, but the New World had shaken his confidence in боprobably safeбп.

    James spoke again, though, interrupting Jimбпs selection process. б░In particular, I want you on duty. You, uh,б▒ He felt absolutely certain that the man would be a good pick, but for some reason, his name was elusive. In fact, looking closer, he wasnбпt sure why he recognized him at all.

    The guy was familiar, sure, but it wasnбпt the sort of familiarity that James felt with all of the rebels. In fact, it was more like passing glances and faded memories. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that the mystery guy didnбпt belong.

    б░Timothy,б▒ the guy supplied.

    Timothy looked to be skittish, unremarkable, yet James now realized that he had slipped into the rebels entirely unseen. Until heбпd took a closer look, he hadnбпt even noticed there was something wrong, and none of the people around him seemed to realize, either. That threw out a dilemma: Was he a spy mixed into his group by Gen, and if so, should the man be outed? The two factions may be боenemiesбп, but if the General did it, surely thereбпd be a good reason? At the same time, why should James let him get his way without even consulting him? Decisions, decisions.

    б░Yeah, I want you as first pick for Jim. I have complete faith in you, soldier,б▒ James concluded. His intuition had been good- where better to keep a spy than out in the spotlight? Hypothetically, Jim would be in danger, but James refused to believe that the General was that far gone. Timothy, for his part, looked mortified. Still, he walked on over to stand by Jim. Notably, even with the extra attention, no one seemed to notice something was wrong.

    James nodded, addressing the remainder. б░The rest of you, dismissed! This should be a clean operation, so go ahead and help wherever you feel youбпre needed.б▒ They wandered off, mumbling affirmations, and with that, James was free to do as he pleased. In other words, hopping groups and keeping people motivated. Some days, he felt more like a cheerleader than a Shepherd. He didnбпt even spare a mind to Jim- Jim would get the picture.

    He didnбпt, really. Jim watched James wander off towards a team of people desperately stripping a vine, and even without direct orders, he knew what to do. That was no problem. The real mystery was why heбпd got an impromptu subordinate. Jim couldnбпt quite place this боTimothyбп.

    Fairly unassuming, young man, almost definitely used to be a civvie. No serious muscle, rounded features, and while he certainly wasnбпt frail, he didnбпt look experienced. Timothyбпs posture and movement didnбпt display any of the tight grace that close-quarters training would provide, and since brawn could be dismissed, Jim doubted James handed the guy over for his prowess in combat. A real mystery.

    Jim stared him in the eye, smiling. To his surprise, Timothy met and held the gaze, barely recoiling once the mental effects set in. He looked a little nervous, maybe, but the standard reaction for eye-contact with a battle-hardened Cultivator was far worse than боa little nervousбп. Shaking, shivering, maybe even some screaming and panicking, anything short of that would be impressive. His curiosity intensified- if not physical prowess, mental? Magical?If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    б░Well, Timothy, what are you good at? Iбпm going to need cover, understand?б▒ Jim quizzed him, watching carefully for his reaction.

    Timothy shrugged. б░Not good at anything, I donбпt think. Iбпd rather avoid a fight, frankly, and after last time?б▒ That did make him shiver. No likey big bugsies.

    His eyes reflected honesty. Jim was puzzled for a moment, unsure what use Timothy would have at all, before finally realizing why he seemed to recognize the man. He was part of Genбпs crew. In fact, heбпd been hanging around with the Gardener the last few times he saw him. So far as Jim knew, out of the City-dwellers, the Gardener was regarded as a proverbial good seed, and that raised a question- what was one of Genбпs guy, presumably part of the upper echelon, doing with the rebels?

    His smile deepened. Jamesбп decision made sense, though that didnбпt mean Jim had to like it. Foist trouble off on the right-hand man, of course. Payback could come later, getting the job done was far more important. б░Well, at least take a gun, yeah?б▒ He paused, dropping his voice an octave. б░I donбпt care who youбпre with. Donбпt cause trouble.б▒

    Now, Timothy forced a smile of his own. He might have been sweating, but it was probably the Jungle air. б░A gun sounds nice!б▒ He paused, dropping his voice an octave. б░Where, uh, are those again?б▒

    Jim fought the urge to laugh. He and the spy might get along well after all. б░Limited supply, ask Brett to point you there. Grab me one too while youбпre at it.б▒ Jim turned, pointing over to a ridge on the cliff-face, tracing a line. б░That bit right there looks pretty promising, so Iбпm going to get a head start.б▒

    Timothy committed the scene to memory and nodded, turning to head for Brett- but there was an important question to ask first, calling over his shoulder. б░Do you think there will be any bugs?б▒

    Jim did laugh this time, but it didnбпt seem like the guy was joking. б░No, man, no bugs. Probably some bats and shit, but why would there be big bugs hanging around on a mountain?б▒ He scoffed. б░Thatбпd be like giant plants blooming underground. Just doesnбпt make sense, you know?б▒ Jim took off, still chuckling, heading for the cliff.

    Timothy relaxed, trotting off to go pester Brett. At least, if he could remember who Brett wasбн

    The mountainside was somewhat less sheer than Jim thought it was at first glance. Sure, taken on average, the grade was something like eighty degrees, but his keen eyes could spot eccentricities trailing the wall. Cliffs, outcroppings, and even further up, scattered cavemouths. Climbing the mountain was looking more viable by the minute, even if it would take them a great deal of time to find a decent route up. The scouts would be busy. Unfortunately, since he was боthe scoutsбп, that meant Jim would be busy.

    Not that he was going to shirk away from hard work. To the contrary, no Cultivator could get anywhere behaving like a deadbeat. People had been more than a little confused about how meditation worked, going so far as to think that Jim was getting a free ride to power. Sure, cultivation involved a lot of sitting around, but once you lost the ability to sit down and veg out without having to dive headlong into an all-out war with your meridians, that became a lot less appealing. Genuine relaxation was a rare thing, though Jim might have preferred it like that.

    He took off, flying into the air. Forgoing relaxation for the ability to defy one of the most fundamental laws of nature at will would be payment enough for most, anyway. He got to moving, jetting up towards the outcrop he pointed out before. It was a bit off to the east of their new campsite, and about ten meters up. The gradually eroding protrusion of slate jutting out from the limestone shelf was more evidence of the mountainбпs extremely eccentric transformation pattern, but to Jim it was mostly just a darkly colored stone foothold stuck in a not-so-dark cliff. Not like he was a Geologist back on Earth, after all.

    The surface seemed solid enough to stand on, and when Jim landed, it didnбпt budge. The platform was a bit dusty and bumpy, but otherwise it seemed pretty serviceable. All-in-all, it would be a reasonable first hop to start to their ascent. Heбпd have preferred to get one closer to the ground, but beggars couldnбпt be choosers. At least it seemed like there was a better selection further up.

    In fact, Jim hadnбпt even seen some of the things he could now. Gentle bulges in the mountainside above, probable signs of ledges and smaller cliffs, and a number of hidey-hole caves at odd intervals- one even quite close to the platform he landed on! A cave would be fantastic, a good way to get camp set up reasonably far off the ground. Sure, humans and New World caves apparently didnбпt have the best track-record, but it had to be better than the Jungle floor. Theyбпd fought their way through enough dog-cat-packs for a decade or two.

    The nearest cavemouth was a pothole of a thing, but sitting at maybe two meters tall and three wide, it was at least good enough to investigate. Jim took off once more, jetting off towards the hole. The cave was deeper than he expected, and plenty dark. Light filtered in at an angle, the sun revealing only a bit of its interior. Bumpy rock, consistent limestone, no hint of a back wall. Without a light, he wouldnбпt get far.

    Throwing up a hand, he brought out an orb of Qi. The ethereal flame cast thin rays of light, brightening at least a portion of the cave. If he pumped more power into it he could brighten things up more, or if he added more balls, but wasting that much power wouldnбпt be necessary, at least not immediately.

    Floating it around, he got a decent picture of the cave at large. It was more of a tunnel, staying narrow, but it was remarkably long. After a short walk, the tunnel began to curve upwards, surprising Jim once more. If the cave turned out to take them up to a higher hole, it would be a veritable gold-mine. That wasnбпt all, either, the cave was surprisingly damp, and if that meant a reasonable source of off-ground water, they could spend more time building and lest time foraging. He swiped a finger on the floor below; it came back vaguely soggy.

    Jim floated his ball of qi close to the wall, and sure enough, there was a thin trickle of water dangling from the wall, seemingly suspended in the air. Jim conjured up another ball of approximately the same size and lobbed it over to the other wall. He hurried along, trailing the trickle of water. The left wall was bumpy and meandering, drifting off and widening the cave somewhat, while the right wall he traced was smooth and gradual. He followed it for a good while, but with a start, he realized that the other orb vanished.

    A fork in the road? Jim backtracked, letting the balls follow him back, and sure enough, the other light reappeared. Dragging it closer, it revealed the fork, a thin wedge that split the cave in two. Both outlets went up and away, but after a moment of deliberation, he decided to stick with the right side. The left oneбпs walls and floor was bumpier, dryer, while the right one seemed to be getting increasingly damp and smooth.

    Re-aligning the orbs, he started again, though a little more carefully, more deliberately. After a long walk, and a few unfortunate encounters with stalactites, the curve sharpened, hall widening as the angles drifted. Two twists later and the walls finally fell away entirely. Jim halted, maneuvering his lights, trying to get a feel for the space.

    First, he pulled them back. Rather than vanishing, the stretch of the walls changed angle sharply, opening into something far more cavernous. Then, he lowered the orbs, trailing the corners near the wall. The floor was smooth stone, almost polished, like it had been worn into glass. Swinging the orbs closer together, he watched as it changed entirely. Rays bounced aimlessly off of the pristine reflective pool, a massive body of water spanning the middle of the room- a jackpot. He lowered the orbs into the water, probing depth.

    Itбпs not easy to get flames underwater, but Jimбпs cultivation didnбпt always play by the rules. Just for fun, he pumped a good deal of qi into the two orbs, enjoying the sudden refraction as the beams of light began to brighten more of the room. The pool turned out to only be something like a meter deep, but that was still plenty of water for a good while, assuming it was reasonably potable.

    The cavern was even bigger than he thought, a tall dome. Tunnels went off in every direction, scattered pockmarks, though Jim could only barely see them in the dim light. The lake was impressively wide, too, and the water was belatedly unremarkable, though the reflection in it was anything but. A massive spearhead, poked up from the water, in reality a huge stalactite that seemed almost impossibly large, the lowest point barely hanging outside of the pool.

    The stalactite, too, was perforated with holes. At the same time, these holes were smaller, only big enough for a person or two to crawl through, and fairly rare. For the second time in one day, Jim was struck with an odd sense of familiarity. Why was this unearthly fixture ringing a bell? Actually, looking at the reflection, it was awfully reminiscent of a termite mound. A coincidence, of course.

    Insectoid chittering swamped the cavern, amplified by the enclosed spaceбпs natural reverb. Black shapes swarmed from the stalactite- no, huge bugs with white abdomens and fat black heads, no doubt hunting down a certain pale mammal.

    Jim got the fuck outta there, sprinting like a madman back through the tunnel. He didnбпt even bother to cut off or maneuver the balls of qi, letting them fizzle out naturally as he got too far away; there was no time to waste. The insects were impressively swift, confident scurrying putting his preternatural speed was put to the test. The sound of grinding mandibles chased him all the way, never far enough behind to get comfortable.

    Thankfully, sunlight came fast. Going in certainly felt longer than coming out, not that Jim was about to complain. He dove out the gap, desperately rallying his qi. With some effort he caught himself in the air, pirouetting through the sky, barely noticing a figure standing just below.

    б░The hell is going on?б▒ Timothy shouted up, mildly peeved. He had jogged over to the site with two rifles and assorted ammunition expecting to find someone waiting for him at the cliff, but heбпd been standing there for a good while, and now his new boss was tumbling out of God knows where at a breakneck pace.

    б░Throw the gun and run! Do it, now!б▒ Jim shouted down, frantically diving towards the young man.

    б░I, uh, okay?б▒ The words didnбпt click for a moment, and when they did, he didnбпt make much of an effort of it. Timothy wasnбпt some sports star before the abduction, so having a heart attack over it wouldnбпt do anyone any good. He primed, ready to give the chuck his best shotбн Massive black termite-things flushed the mountainside, scattering any which way, probing the area Jim just flew out of. Bugs big enough to conjure up recent unpleasant memories- Timothy whipped around and chucked the gun as hard as he could, breaking into an out-and-out sprint. The gun tumbled through the air, and in a stroke of blind luck, it landed readily in the Cultivatorбпs outstretched hands.

    б░You said there wouldnбпt be any more bugs!б▒ The guy screamed, running hard and fast towards the Jungle. He had a good head-start, but looking over his shoulder, the ten-odd black shapes seemed to be making up their mind on which way to go. Given his luck, that would probably mean right towards him.

    Jim whirled back towards the cave-mouth, gun outstretched. The flight turned into a dive. Even if the termites scattered somewhat, it wouldnбпt be long until they found their way to the jungle floor. Itбпd be much easier to go ahead and take them out while they were away from the foliage.

    б░Give me a minute and there wonбпt be!б▒ He shouted, firing a few shots at the bug closest to the ground. A few bullets sunk through its carapace, thankfully nowhere near as hard or thick as the Gorgon Bug. That meant one down. He swerved, flying low to the mountainside, and nearly skidding along it, he fired shots straight at another- those, too, struck true, the carcass tumbling away. The bugs seemed to catch on, though, and they marched, a unified downward sprint. Jim tried to follow up, but they were fast, too fast for any immediate action.

    Timothy kept running, throwing scared glances over his shoulder. Even running, he hadnбпt made it that far away, but sure enough, the bugs nearly made it to the ground. A bug practically exploded as it touched ground, several bullets sinking into it from above. The flying man halted in the air, ready to unleash hell on the bugs below- but nothing came. As far as Timothy could tell, the bullets werenбпt coming.

    б░Youбпve got to clean this up!б▒ Jim shouted, б░Iбпm jammed!б▒

    Shaking, Timothy raised his gun, all of the fear from his last insectoid encounter rushing back to him. Unlike before, though, there was no magically empowered adrenaline to force him to be confident enough to move. Itбпd be up to him, and him alone. The rest of the bugs touched ground, taking off towards their nearest (valid) target, otherwise known as боthat guy named Timothyбп.

    The first shots were wild, but he managed to hit one, grazing it twice before landing a fatal blow. That bug dropped dead, and Jim took aim again, looking over to another, firing desperately. Yet the insects drew closer, bearing down on him. Normal termites arenбпt all that intimidating, little wood-chewing bugs, but these huge things were a whole different story. Pitch-black heads, nearly featureless, save two massive mandibles, guillotining blades made specially to fuck with Timothyбпs head. The next bug fell, struck by a stray shot, not even his target.

    He redoubled, shooting as cleanly as his meager talent could possibly manage. It became hard to tell how many bugs there were, precisely, their black shelled heads blending into a near-seamless mass. By the time the gap finally closed, only two of the massive insects remained, that much was clear.

    He threw himself to the side as the nearer one charged, mandibles cleaving empty air. Timothy shot at it desperately, poking holes in the sides of its head. The corpse spun away, leaving only one, but it was none too pleased by the turn of events. It whirled about, leaping out to try and finish the job. Mandibles bared, and Timothy tried to shoot at it, but to his dismay, his own clicked- there was nothing he could do to stop it.

    Jim could, though. He dove through the trees, gun-first, and slammed into the bugбпs head from above. Human and bug fell together, carbine sinking deep into the chitin, bent beyond recognition- donбпt bring a gun to a spear fight. On Jimбпs end, the impact was more than a little unpleasant, but heбпd live.

    Timothy watched as the Cultivator slowly pulled himself to his feet, shoving away the termite carcass as he toddled about, dazed. After a long moment, Jim refocused, and he walked over smiling. б░Nice shooting, kid.б▒

    Some rebels started to wander up, probably taking keen notice of the sudden bout gunshots.

    б░Please tell me that was all of them?б▒ Timothy asked, practically pleading.

    Jimбпs smile changed,twisting into something vicious.б░You and I are going to have a really good time together.б▒