### Arthur ###

Arthur spent the past hour relaxing in the shade of his tent with his closest friends. Justine, Adrian, Judas, Desmond… he studied their faces and engraved their names in his memory; a small part of him knew tonight might be the last moment they shared together.

They’d made plans. They’d communicated said plans. Everyone in his camp understood the gravity of their situation. As far as he knew, they were all on the same page.

But plans alone wouldn't guarantee survival. That... was in the system's hands.

I want to live. Arthur’s final sentence during his speech. He didn’t say that to rouse their spirits… Arthur simply wished to spell that sentence out to someone. Anyone.

“Tutorial, my ass.” Justine sighed. “Don’t you think it’s too much? What’s it teaching us? How to die?”

“We don’t know what it’ll be like… yet-” Arthur placed his hands on his knees, leaning forward. The campfire painted half their faces black. “-it’s possible we’ll simply… coast past tomorrow.”

Justine snorted. “Do you really believe that?”

Hell no. Arthur shook his head. As much as he wished he was overthinking things… the draugrs’ plight refuted that notion. They lost. Badly. He knew his camp would suffer the same fate if they fought the invasion instead of them.

No… we’ll fare even worse.

Justine shifted her head to the left. “Adrian… what do you think?”

The quiet man shrugged.

“At least we have them.” Desmond tilted his body and peered at the band of skeletons. “You’ve seen their entire force, Arthur, what do you make of it?”

Arthur leaned back, “Strong... dangerous.” Ally or not, to have such an overwhelming presence close to their home… one which could destroy them at a moment’s notice, would always cause a certain level of unease. Frankly, what the Entity allowed them to see paled compared to its full might.

“That’s not worrisome at all.” Desmond closed his eyes. “-not at all.”

Judas glued his glare on the flickering flames.

“If we make it back on Earth… Let’s find a way to make beer.” Justine groaned. “I’d kill for a pine right now.”

“We’ll do that…” Arthur smiled. “And much, much more.”

All of them stared at the sky.

At least the view’s pretty.

### Damon ###

“Can’t fucking sleep.” Sarah clicked her tongue, shifting on her hastily made bed.

Sleep eluded everyone present at the camp tonight. Damon saw Arthur mulling things back and forth with his friends, strategizing, talking, whichever they felt right at the moment.

Good friends. Kinda like us, I suppose.

Damon yawned. He, Sarah, and Agil lay on the same camp together, attempting to find sleep. “Nervous?” He asked.

His yawn spread to the rest, “Duh. Aren’t you?”

Damon shut his eyes. “We did what we could. The rest…”

Is it in God’s hand? Does God even exist here? Well, they did; Arthur had spoken to one. They seemed chummy, even. But the ol’ almighty God did not exist here…

The closest thing to the almighty being was… the system itself.

The camp had slain every monster they found, returning once they realized there was nothing left to kill.

“You know… If I don’t make it tomorrow-“ Agil whispered.

Damon shushed him. “We will.”

She laughed. “Someone’s confident.”

“We have to be.”

“I wasn’t… then those entered our camp.” Agil nudged his head at the largest thing inside their camp. “The power to revive boss monsters, huh? That’s just… unfair.”

The three shot a glance at the group of skeletons guarding the entrance.

“Not that I mind,” Agil crossed his arms behind his head, “-as long as we don’t have to fight them…”

“Don’t think Arthur’s ever planning that. His face changed when that thing showed up…” Damon turned the other side, laying on his left shoulder, “…and that isn’t even the strongest monster in his army.”

His remark drew Sarah’s interest. “You mean that tall skeleton with blue flames?”

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“No.”

“Then-“

Damon held his hand up, “I don’t even know how to describe it. The thing floats. It has eyes… lots of them. The system calls it a watcher.”

Sarah whistled. “Sweet. So, what, it’s like a… necromancer? Isn’t it?”

“Pretty much.” Agil smiled. “Like the games. You played those before, right, old man?”

“I’m not that old. But yes.”

They had come to a point where they found comfort in standing behind a group of lifeless skeletons. Lifeless gesturing skeletons, more like.

Arthur relayed their plans before everyone went to bed. Something about maintaining formation, watching out for flanks, target priority… simple, easy-to-absorb ideas that left little room for error. The skeletons had their way of getting things done, especially the bone lizard; that thing’s capabilities were too far removed from what they could do, so they deemed it best not to micromanage a force nobody understood.

Besides… the skeletons needed no help in terms of tactics. They knew what they were doing.

[The invasion will commence in one hour.]

If Damon felt any semblance of drowsiness, the message erased that need completely. Adrenaline shot throughout his bloodstream in an instant.

And that effect was visible from the others. One by one, lines of men exited their camps, eyes agape and frowning. Nobody looked fresh.

“Looks like time’s up.” Agil rubbed his hands together, shivering. “Damon?”

Damon found the strength to groan and stand, “Promise me you two will make it out alive.”

“That goes to you too, old man,” Agil tapped his shoulder.

###

[The invasion will commence in one hour.]

A flashing message blinked, heralding the incoming of their demise… should he prove unworthy of victory.

Frail was as ready as he could be when the warning appeared.

He spotted Arthur’s camp stirring to live, too. One by one, humans of all shapes and heights stood up, their eyes searching their horizons for the markers displayed in their eyes. He couldn’t see it—not from his entity’s eyes, but their vacant stares told enough.

“Entity.” Grimright approached the door leading to his pedestal chamber. “I trust you have seen the warning?”

The domain lord nodded.

“One more hour. It couldn’t come any sooner.” His grip on his blade tightened as he scowled. “If I may… I wish to deal with the invisible one personally... if he shows up.”

The draugr held a scroll of [detect invisibility] in his other hand.

For revenge? Frail, despite his growth, still lacked access to that emotion.

Grimright’s face softened after Frail answered his request. The Draugrs’ eyes never left the entrance; some went as far as to express the desire to face them outside. Grimright and Yrsa shot that idea down almost instantly.

So even Draugrs suffered from basic emotions, too. Shortsightedness, over-excitement, anxiety… passions blinding one’s eyes to the right decision.

But since when did Frail deem his judgment infallible?

“No place is safer than here,” Grimright repeated. “Not until the invasion is over.”

A sonorous bellow erupted from beyond Frail’s domain. The piercing wail from a legion of horns, so sharp and sonorous they shattered the peace of the ambient forest. Their tune did not surprise the draugrs the slightest. They had faced this music before… and lost their closest friends to it.

Nothing so far.

He’d sent his assassins to scout the forest before dawn. Shadows of towering trees cloaked their presence, their blank stares acting as sentries.

The zone fell to a pause. Ruddied darkness reigned over their sky, though its sovereignty wavered as the head of the sun began to peer past the horizon, spreading traces of its warmth across the black sky.

Rustle.

Invisible goblins scoured the forest ahead of their invading force. Invisible did not mean their presence was… null, the leaves still rustled when their bodies made contact, and their footsteps still bent the branches and snapped the roots beneath their feet. All skulked past his assassins without sparing a glance.

There was no need to reveal his assassins’ presence—not yet. Besides, the brightening landscape limited his scouts’ movements. He planned to withdraw them once morning came.

Thump. Thump.

The soil trembled.

What is… that?

The goblins had always been small. So why did the earth shake? He searched the records flipping inside his mind, then it retrieved a single entry.

Ogrin. The draugrs warned him about it. Physically, the staunchest out of the three. The draugrs said it couldn’t enter Frail’s domain due to its size… but unless he confirmed that with his eyes, he couldn’t be sure.

The path where he felt its footsteps led to Arthur’s camp.

Can the scarred venom defeat it?

Trunks fell from the weight of its movement alone. His scout’s head faced where the source reverberated from; and what he saw…

Massive.

How is that a goblin? Even an Entity struggled to reason it out.

A towering, ashen monstrosity posing as a goblin pushed the trees away with its lumbering body. Layers of dense plates armored its torso, following no recognizable armor designs; each piece haphazardly pasted onto its thick skin. A large, horned helmet of rusted iron concealed its face. Its bulky arms dragged a club rivaling its height, scraping off dirt with every step.

What walls would repel against such… pure force?

Get back. He voiced retreat. No manner of sneak attacks would topple this beast. The scout near it blurred as it hurried back to Frail’s domain. Frail directed his attention to Arthur’s camp. He sent one of his guards to approach their leader.

His skeleton’s sudden burst of life startled them.

“Entity?” Arthur asked as his skeleton’s shadow carved lines on his back. “What is it?”

Time to speak.

His construct found a patch of soft soil and pointed away. Then it gestured one, proceeding with etching the word massive with its sharp fingers.

This is… terribly inconvenient. He shouldn’t do this unless he must.

Arthur’s jaw nearly fell. “From there?” His stare traced where Frail pointed, then dropped his head. The puff below his eyelids cast a different shade on his fair skin. “Wow… Very well. Are you sure it’s alone?”

His skeleton nodded.

“How big?”

It pointed at the walls… then lifted its arms higher. Bigger than your walls.

“Fuck.” He pursed his lips and sucked in air. “Everyone!” Arthur’s voice broke the silence. “They are coming. From there.” The humans went into their planned formation; the skeleton guards stood as their vanguard, shouldering the brunt of the goblins’ assault and magic, especially while they retaliated.

“How many?” Desmond inquired, gazing toward the spot where trees shook.

“One… so far,” Arthur replied. “But we can’t be sure.”

Frail’s focus honed in on his other dormant scouts. Would it be safe to assume each general led one of the three waves? He didn’t expect Ogrin to come alone… so the invasion itself might be more… malleable than he initially thought.

The rapid march of a goblin force confirmed Frail’s theory. These came from another direction, far away from Ogrin. The storm of footsteps echoed, growing with every passing second. Their general… Where is it? He sent one of his assassins forward.

That scout halted its pace when it encountered a horde of well-equipped goblins. Long gone were the squalid packs of uncoordinated masses—no, this one… this pack moved with purpose. He heard no laughter, no goblins straying from their formation.

Iron armors… iron weapons… These aren’t the usual goblins.

One head stood taller than the others. Even taller than the shamans. Its head bobbed as it lugged the bone staff beside its gaunt body, garbed in tattered robes.

The staff… it looks… different. Its long, curved staff housed a skull with a curious gem socketed on its forehead. Verdant embers burned on its empty eye sockets. It looked alive at a glance.

They marched past his assassin above the canopy of trees.

Frail’s crypt entered their sights. The general raised its hand.

“Entity…”

It spoke.

“Finally...we meet.”