The training room they’d managed to access and power was just long enough to make Virgil’s target practice worthwhile.

The chamber was a hundred paces long and the far end threw up metal discs that he had to shoot down before they dropped to the ground. An easy task if he used his considerable abilities but much more challenging when he relied on his natural skill.

Fwump! Fwump! Fwump!

Three bronze-coloured discs popped out, spinning out into three directions. Virgil locked on one and pressed the trigger, aiming at the next one in less than a second. He pinged the second target and shot at the third, but a twitch from a muscle group on his side twisted his arm enough that the bolt missed. He managed a fourth shot before the disc landed below the target range.

“Burning Moon!” he grunted.

Weeks had passed since his Strengthen Physique inlay set got scrubbed and he still struggled with controlling how Boost interacted with the new technique. The Ancient’s version of Strengthen Physique, actually called Body Forging, was a one-off use. The Ancient’s version of Boost was still called that but it increased all of his attributes evenly unlike the modern, inlaid version. It also required him to move his Animus in a specific pattern instead of just flicking on a switch.

Doing that while aiming, using his Facet, and other things took some time to get used to. He still wasn’t confident in using these in actual combat which was why he spent as much time as he could spare in the practice range.

Amiri, the lucky girl that she was, was the least affected. In terms of actual combat, her methods mostly relied on her mind, focus, and perception. She only needed her body to move within range or get out of the way.

As amusing as it was to watch her get used to her newfound strength, she managed to rip things quick frequently. It was a relief, though, when she managed to use her flames against those hornets.

The other three were like Virgil, who used a combination of both muscle and mind to operate. The adjustment period for each of them was long and drawn out. Maybe if he had learned the Ancient Arts when he was still a Novice or Apprentice, things would have been different. But he was already a Knight-Captain. His Anima had already started developing a domain and the change in his body was unwelcome at best.

Still, what’s done is done. He’d see to relearning the technique set once he came back home, but he’d have to make do.

He kept up his practice until his Animus dipped down to half. The ambient Chaos inside the fort was enough that he would regain lost reserves by the end of the day rather than overnight. It was a marked difference from the tundra outside.

He palmed the instruction panel which promptly powered down the room. The door hissed open and he left.

In the intervening weeks, his team had found a control centre and with some effort, managed to interface and power it up. It took all of their Animus for three days before it had enough power to start up. Crystal screens along the walls displayed bars, words, and lines that he couldn’t make heads or tails of. A panel at the bottom expanded into a partial map that showed most of where they’d been to and a bit of the area around them.

As they’d suspected, the area was a giant wheel, with wide tunnels as spokes and the smaller ones meandering all over the slices. The centre hub was shadowed with absolutely no detail for any of them to parse.

From there, figuring out how things worked had Sarra occupied for most of the day while the rest of them adjusted and tried to make things comfortable for their inevitable long stay.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Sarra declared, “not until we lay proper claim to this place.”

“I’m not against that,” Virgil said slowly, “but do you have a clear timeline?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Balliol growled. “How would a Legion even know how to get here? Abyss! I don’t even know how we got here!”

“Inquisitors can eventually find each other,” Sarra muttered in a low voice.

“And how long would that take?”

“Who knows? But think about it this way: there’s no way we can make it back to Rumiga on our own, not without following through with the bargain, and from what we’ve found here…doing that would be tantamount to treason!”

“So we’re well and truly stuck,” Virgil grumbled.

“For now, yes.”

“Wonderful.”

With that, he and Balliol stalked away. That was over three weeks ago and they hadn’t spoken a word to Sarra since.

At least the hallways now were well-lit and warm. Virgil followed the path until he wound up in a residential space where they all picked out rooms to live in. The intervening weeks were drab and tedious. Aside from securing food, which was easily enough done by a quick foray into the gardens to harvest ripe fruit, and well, the hornets were a good source of meat. They’d eaten their last ration bar a long way back, and strangely enough, he missed it. At least the residences had working plumbing.

Amiri was, predictably enough, in the common area working on hornet and makopa fruit stew. The bell-shaped green fruit had a mild enough taste that sort of went well with the hornet meat. The pots and utensils were from a storage room.

“Hi, Virg!” Amiri chirped. “Oh, fodder!” she muttered.

The ladle she’d been using to stir twisted and bent when she used too much force. She tossed the ladle in the sink and picked up another one on the table next to her.

“How many did you use up?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Shush you. I’ll heat forge them back to normal after dinner.”

“Right.”

Virgil plopped himself down on the sofa bench. The mattresses on the bedrooms had long rotted away, and the bedframes were corroded messes. Craig took some leaves and wove them into simple padding, and Balliol cut down trees to use their wood as lumber. Afterwards, he used his wind knives to whittle down some furniture.

“Not gonna help?”

“Nope.”

“Lazy bum.”

“I got the food, you cook ‘em.” He cocked his head. “Unless you want me to cook?”

“Is there a reason why it’s your kids who cook at home?”

“Hah hah.”

She left the ladle in the pot and sat down beside him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Humph, just nothing to do and nothing I can do to get home faster.”

“You can advance to Knight-Commander?”

“That’s unlikely to happen soon.”

“It’s either you or Sarra.”

“What about you? Any chance of advancing soon?”

“Maybe if I had more time to study the Ennoia.”

“Huh.”

A few minutes later, Balliol and Craig entered the common room. Craig had a bag of fruits, while Balliol gingerly dragged a carcass over to the kitchen storage.

Virgil stood to help him dress the kill. Sarra only came back to the room, bags under her eyes, by dinner time. They ate quietly and headed to their rooms to rest.

The next days were much the same. Virgil trained. He gathered food. He helped cook once before Amiri kicked him out for overseasoning the stew. He walked the tunnels instead and began updating the map they had.

Simple things. Things any cadet could have done.

They had to range further into the gardens when the fruit of the nearby trees was spent. He tried his best to avoid the hornet gardeners, especially since they still had a good supply of preserved meat.

Things changed one evening when Sarra rushed into the common room. Virgil was the only one there.

“Come with me!” She yelled, grabbing his arm and practically dragging him down the hallway.

“Wha-what?”

“Hurry!”

Frowning, Virgil hurried behind her and soon enough, found themselves in the control room. The crystal panels were showing a map of the eastern tundra. The plains rolled for dozens of leagues, then the frozen sea, before terminating abruptly at the planar barrier. A blinking red light was there. Even as he watched, it seemed to multiply.

“What’s this?”

“I don’t know. Can you scout it out?”

“You don’t think it’s the Legion?”

“No, too early.”

“Then, Wyldlings?”

“We missed She Who Whispers in the Light’s deadline.”

“The last time we tangled with her she almost tore your leg off.”

Sarra tapped on the panel, and the map zoomed in on a section that seemed like it wasn’t far from where they were.

“It’s a garage of sorts,” Sarra pointed. “I think you can take a landcrafter from there and take this route out to the outer wall. Then you can take a good look at those things and come back.”

“Hmmm, sounds dangerous. I’ll take Craig along to drive.”

“As you wish. I need to stay here to remain in control.”

“Alright. We’ll head out as soon as dawn arrives.”

Sarra nodded. They returned to the common room and waited for the others to return. Amiri came back first, followed by Balliol and Craig.

“Sarra found an incursion. We think it’s Wyldlings, but it's best to be sure.”

“I’m in!” Amiri yelled.

“I need Craig, too.”

“What about me?” Balliol protested.

“Stay here and keep Sarra safe. She needs to control the fort. There’s a garage here and hopefully, a working landcrafter. Or a shuttle, actually. I think I’d prefer a flying shuttle.”

“Those are slow,” Sarra frowned.

“Aerial superiority’s better for me.”

“Not if they have flyers too.”

“Well, we’ll see what’s there. We may not have a choice.” Amiri snorted. “You boys take a look, I’ll pack us a go-bag.”

With that, the team split up. Virgil and Craig headed to the garage, a chamber that wasn’t anywhere near the tunnels that they’d personally mapped. Sarra transferred information into their crystal screen and they followed it through several longstrides of tunnels.

Every now and then, they passed by opened doors that were almost invisible once they recessed into the walls. Eventually, they came upon one that was still closed, though it opened smoothly enough when Virgil palmed the panel at the side.

The chamber wasn’t big. It was about twenty-five paces on the long side and five on the shorter side. There were landcrafters parked on one end, though most of them looked like scrap heaps. They didn’t look like any of the ones Virgil had seen before, though what he expected from a place that hadn’t seen anyone alive in three thousand years, he didn’t know. Maybe the fact that there were landcraft of any sort should have been a remarkable thing, honestly.

“You think we’ll find a working one,” Craig said.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Huh.”

Most of the landcrafters were boxy things, with a set of four strange-looking white wheels on a chassis made out of bronze. The fittings inside the cabins had long disintegrated into dust, but the steering wheels and the Animus collectors looked to be in working condition. There was no visible runescript and perhaps that was the saving grace. Virgil’s Animus transferred easily from the collector stud and into the engines and the entire thing hummed with renewed power.

“I guess whoever built this built it to last,” Craig shrugged. “Let’s fit some cushions into this thing.”

Craig headed over to one end of the room and opened the landcrafter gates which led into one of the huge tunnels. Virgil eased the vehicle forward and amazingly enough, it actually drove better than the ones at home.

Craig hopped into the passenger side and the two of them drove off. Half an hour later they parked the vehicle next to a tunnel entrance that was quite close to their residential units. They returned to the common room, ate dinner, and slept. The next day, the three of them gathered Amiri’s supply bags, filched Balliol’s cushions and drove the landcrafter down the big tunnel.

Soon enough, they reached the outer walls. Virgil palmed the panel there and the doors opened slightly. The gates were nearly a dozen paces high here, and the slight opening turned out just wide enough to barely fit the landcrafter. Craig manoeuvred it through, and Virgil jumped on the back seat.

The air outside was freezing, but at least the skies were clear. If there had been a storm then things would have been far more complicated.

It took them the better part of the day to traverse the tundra, and as soon as they arrived on the shores to the frozen sea, there was no mistaking the incursion. Wyldlings.

Wyldlings everywhere. Hundreds of swarmlings were battling over a dozen worms that poked their way out of the ice. Virgil thought he saw a Hunter but with their camouflage, he couldn’t be absolutely sure of their numbers.

He could see the swarmlings struggling, though it wasn’t because of the worms. Their Protective Fields looked paler than usual and even as he watched, one of the Wanderers’ Field flickered and died. Almost at once, the creature dropped down on its knees and started to shrivel up.

“Hmm, I don’t think those guys would pose any kind of threat,” Amiri muttered.

“They could barely breathe in here.”

They watched as the swarmlings, Wanderers, and Hunters fought and died. Even those that weren’t attacked were basically corpses walking.

“I guess, we’re pretty secure here,” Virgil said.

“Unless those Chaos Lords come.” Amiri frowned.

“They’d suffocate here, too,” Virgil insisted.

“Then we should probably head back and relax,” Craig smiled. “I’d rather not tangle with them for no reason.”

“Right.”

Craig made a U-turn and they trundled back to the outer wall. Midway there, Virgil had a sudden, unwelcome thought.

“How will the Legion get to us through that?” he blurted out.

The other two gave him wide-eyed looks.

“Maybe Legate Segawa will come, too,” Amiri muttered.

“What are the chances of that happening?” Virgil scoffed.

“Low. Then we’d better start planning how to get back instead of sitting here like pretty princesses,” Craig grumbled.

Virgil sighed. If only things were so easy.