The base's interior was a stark contrast to the swamp outside. Smooth stone walls rose around them, supporting wooden platforms stretching between different levels and branching to surrounding trees.

Where did the stone come from? Were these made with a skill?

Jonathan led the way, his movements quick and deliberate as he cleared each corner. His axe was held at shoulder height, ready to block or swing if needed.

“Hear that?” Jimmy whispered.

They could hear faint yelling ahead, and the tone alone made it clear that these were calls for help rather than shouts of anger.

“Keep your pace steady,” Hayes warned. “Now’s not the time to break ranks.”

They moved through the corridors and saw more and more signs of hasty retreats. As they looked through adjacent rooms, methodically clearing their way through the first floor, they found discarded clothes and personal items in most of them. Most of the corridors were lit by torchlight, which signaled that things had still been active but hours before.

“Movement ahead,” Jimmy said, his keen eyes the first to notice motion through the large door at the end of the tunnel. The calls for help were in the room beyond, and Jonathan braced himself for a potential attack.

The first cell block appeared ahead, and as they entered the large space, they could see metal bars gleaming in the dull torch light. Jonathan was certain that if it weren’t for the dampener he was wearing, he would be able to feel the rage rise in his chest. As someone who had been through boot camps and various military selection courses, he would never compare those conditions with what he saw.

The cell block stretched upward on two levels, and wooden catwalks provided access to the higher cells. Torch brackets lined the walls, many still burning and casting flickering shadows across the floor. The smell of unwashed bodies hung thick in the air.

“Please, help us!” A young voice called from above. More cries for help joined in and he could see hands reaching through bars or small bodies being pressed against the bars to get a better angle to look down at their entrance.

Hayes moved forward, “Good Lord. Turner, start documenting what you see and check the tables on this floor. Gather any intel that may have been left behind.” She gestured to the nearest cells. “Jon, Jimmy, check these lower levels first. Send any of them that you find toward me and make your way up to the second floor. I’ll do my best to keep them calm and explain what’s going on.”

The two men nodded and headed off in different directions. Jonathan approached the first cell and saw two young men, barely out of their teens, pressed against the bars. Their clothes were torn and dirty, and one sported a fresh bruise across his face.

I need to thank Sullivan for this bracelet.

“How many of you are there?” Jonathan asked as he looked down at the small lock on the door.

“Twenty, maybe thirty of us,” the bruised one answered. His voice was hoarse, and Jonathan could see tears forming in his eyes. “They took some with them after locking us up and were talking about releasing the monsters to come get us.”

Jonathan yanked on the lock. It was sturdy, but he knew that his Strength would let him easily snap the metal. He gripped it with both hands and jerked down with as much force as he could muster. The lock broke, and he opened the door to let the two boys out before moving to the next.

The noise of teens calling out increased and Jonathan was worried that it might attract the attention of any other potential guards that were left behind. He looked at Hayes and called, “Sounds like they left hours ago. We need to watch out for anything they may have released.”

“Got it. Jimmy, you can’t break the locks anyway. Head up top and get those kids to quiet down. Let them know we’re going to get everyone out.”

Jonathan found a young woman injured and lying down in the cell, though she dragged herself to the bars while waiting for him to arrive at the door. “Some of them…” she said hesitantly. “Some of them changed. The graduates- they really believed what they were teaching us. Y-you need to be careful.”

Turner finished gathering what he could and moved between the cells on the lower floor ahead of Jonathan. He used his staff to light the way as if it were a large torch and looked for which cells held prisoners. “Captain, some of these wounds look really fresh. Maybe from the arena combat?”

Something feels wrong.

He kept breaking locks and watched the kids as they exited the cells. Some rushed out immediately, some limped, and some moved with a certain confidence. He noted one boy's movements, who seemed more fearful than injured, and wondered if he was worried that their team would hurt them.

His thoughts drifted back to the words the young girl had just told him. Something about the statement took him back to his second tour in Iraq. After the U.S. had been at war for several years, the kids began to be pulled into the war. They would approach soldiers and act fearlessly. Sometimes, they would pass along insults, sometimes just begging for candy. Sometimes, the kids had been told that they were doing their god and country a great service by making a sacrifice.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Jonathan stopped with his hand on the lock and looked back at the group of teens gathering around his team’s leader.

“We need to move quickly,” Hayes said, organizing the freed prisoners into groups. “Those who can walk, help those who can’t. We’ll-“

A shout from one of the kids above was the only warning.

“Behind you!”

Jonathan ducked, unsure if the warning was for him. He saw a blue flash as a bolt of azure light streaked through the open middle of the room. The bolt passed just by Hayes’s head, close enough that she clutched her ear and threw herself to the side. The bolt shattered against the far wall like glass that scattered across the stone floor.

Turner wasn’t as lucky. A second spell caught him in the chest as he turned, the impact throwing him backward into the cell bars. He slumped to the ground, and his staff clattered across the ground.

“Ambush!” Hayes shouted as she rolled to her feet.

Some of the freed prisoners dropped to the ground and covered their heads. Others, some of the ones Jonathan had thought were acting strangely, pulled weapons from beneath their ragged clothes. A young man near Hayes drew a knife. His face twisted in anger even as he lunged at her.

Jonathan moved to intercept another attacker, but pain exploded in his side as someone struck from his blind spot. He looked down to see a crude blade protruding from just below his ribs. The wielder, a boy no older than nineteen, was trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “they said we had to. They said-“

More spells lit up the chamber and cast harsh shadows across terrified faces. Hayes’s voice cut through the chaos as she called out to him. “Jonathan! Bill is down! We need to-“

An arched blade of wind cut through the air between them and caused the stone at his feet to shatter. Jonathan stumbled backward, which caused a fresh wave of pain to shoot through his side as he could feel the knife move. Warm blood soaked through his shirt and pool at his hip and the tight belt of his pants.

His hand moved to the blade, and it was the most surreal sensation to realize that there was pain but absolutely no fear or sense of urgency. The emotional dampener was doing its job flawlessly, and he knew that if he took it off, the {Rage} would be there waiting for him.

It will heal my side and shoulder. I need to get back to David…

He looked around himself and saw the innocent faces of the teens on the ground and the frantic look in his teammates’ eyes. If he took the bracelet off, he wouldn’t be able to control what happened.

Another skill flashed through the air and struck the wall a few feet from Jonathan's head. The impact sent a spiderweb of cracks through the stone, but his mind remained clear and detached.

“Get those kids out of here!” Hayes ordered. Her spear blurred as she defended against two attackers, one with a small knife and the other with a short sword. She’d positioned herself between the fallen doctor and the main group of hostiles.

The boy who’d stabbed Jonathan backed away, still shaking. “They said we’d never survive out there. That we needed to be stronger and to fight…” His words were lost in a choking sob.

Despite his dampened emotions, his experience and training pushed him into unhurried action. He shifted his grip on his axe and moved toward Hayes’s flank. As he passed the teen who’d shanked him, he backhanded the boy, sending him spinning and unconscious onto the floor. Within moments, another teen was charging at him with a hatchet raised high.

Jimmy’s bow sang, the thrum of the chord barely heard over the more exaggerated sounds of spells going off. He sent arrows methodically into shoulders and legs, careful to avoid killing shots when he could. But for each attacker that he dropped, two more seemed to emerge from the shadows of the upper level.

Jonathan observed the scene calmly. Turner lay motionless against the cell bars, and he suspected the thin researcher to already be dead. Spells flashed and splashed around him, and he knew that he’d need to act or take cover. Even with his increased constitution and vitality, he’s not sure how much damage he might be able to take.

The genuine prisoners huddled on the ground or against walls, though some made a break for the exit without waiting for their saviors. A young girl dragged her injured friend behind a table that had been flipped over before they arrived.

He thought through the logical courses of action he could take as he felt a steady flow of blood from his side. To save himself, he could either retreat now or remove the dampener to enter {Rage}. But both of those options meant leaving the teens behind and endangering his team. If he kept the bracelet on, he could push through the injuries and attempt to get a grip on the situation.

Turner was dead, but there were still two of his teammates alive and a dozen or more innocent teens scared and scrambling for their lives.

Jonathan turned and squared his shoulders to the boy who had reached him with his hatchet raised. He could have ended it with a single swing, even without his {Rage}, but instead, he dropped his greataxe’s head to the ground and moved to disable the boy with his fists.

He stepped forward with his uninjured side and caught the teen off guard by slipping too close to swing effectively with a downward chop. He brought a strong blow into the boy’s stomach and felt his body fold.

Using his Strength, he guided the boy to the ground. Jonathan felt an unexpectedly strong grip on his long-sleeved shirt as the body crumbled to the ground. Rather than falling completely limp, the boy tried to pull on Jonathan in a feeble attempt to bring him down to the floor.

As Jonathan straightened, though, the world seemed to slow. The boy’s hands slid down his arm and caught on his wrist. There was a small amount of resistance, and the boy fell back as black beads flew through the air. His dampening bracelet snapped.

Black beads scattered across the stone floor, and Jonathan felt a rush of emotions that hit him like a physical wave. It crashed through the void that had been held by the enchanted bracelet, and everything he’d been suppressing hit him at once.

The rage at seeing imprisoned children. The horror of Turner’s death at the hands of a brainwashed youth. The pain of his wounds. They all clashed and surged forth.

Hayes’s voice sounded distant, as if underwater. “Jon? Jon!”

He tried to focus on her words, to hold onto that clinical detachment, but the {Rage} was already rising in his gut. He saw the red mist begin to bleed into the edges of his vision with each pulse of pain through his side.

The muscles in his arms budged against his sleeves and he felt his skill [Raging Breath] activate as he started to try to use his Willpower to hold back the tide of unchecked feelings.

David. These are just kids.

“You need to get out of here,” he called through gritted teeth. He held up his arm to show Hayes his bare wrist. The red in his vision blinked in and out as he fought it down, using every ounce of his Willpower to wrestle it under control. Some of the kids around them took hesitant steps backward. He could feel his perspective shift as he grew an inch and knew he was fighting a losing battle.

Captain Hayes’s blue eyes widened in horror as she realized what was happening.