Charlie blinked. What was this? A vision? Hallucinations? They all flashed by quickly. Was it because he had interacted with a dungeon that wasn’t his? If so, it was strange it had never happened before.

The visions flashed by again, this time in greater detail. He could see his friends, but he couldn’t hear them. The visions slowed, and finally, he could make out what he was seeing with greater clarity.

Merlin

“I didn’t even know their names,” Merlin said. Two dead men lay on either side of him. They’d been separated from the others during the fighting and cut off by Varroc’s men. They’d been forced to fight in a small alleyway between two buildings further inside the city. He should’ve been more careful, Crussus had warned him to stay close.

But he’d been caught off guard. He’d made a mistake.

One of the soldiers standing over him had a smug look on his face. The other two watched on in amusement. “That’s too bad, well, you can ask them in hell,” the smug one said.

Merlin had lost his spear, but one of the men next to him had died holding his. If Merlin could just grab onto it.

“Wait! I’m valuable! I was one of the people who started all this. You want me alive!” Merlin said, holding out a hand.

“No, I certainly don’t,” the soldier said. He reared his sword back to stab Merlin in the gut.

Merlin lifted up the spear to ram it towards the man.

But it didn’t budge. It was stuck on something.

Great, so this is how I die.

The soldier’s blade fell to the ground. His arm was still attached to it. Crussus tackled him to the ground, running his blade into the man’s side as they fell. Torq brought his hammer down on the head of another soldier. Another one man struck down the last enemy.

Crussus stood and offered a hand to Merlin. “I’ve lost enough brothers for a lifetime. Are you alright?” he asked.

Merlin nodded, grabbing the outstretched hand. “Thanks for that. I guess I should’ve attended some of those lessons you offered.”

Crussus laughed. “Merlin, I used to think anyone could learn to fight. But you changed my mind about that. It’s alright though, without you we never would’ve pulled this off.”

Merlin scratched the back of his head. “You said that with the tone of a compliment, but I don’t think you realize it doesn’t matter how nice you say something if it’s utterly offensive. How are things?”

“There have a been a few sightings of boars and snatchers in the city. But the shields Torq made are handling them well enough.”

“Really? Even with their magic?”

“Of course, boy! Who do you think I am?” Torq called out. Merlin smiled. He realized Crussus had brought other reinforcements as well. Godo and Achai were standing a little way off, among others. “Those shields are made of kierstone. Highly flame resistant. That green fire of theirs isn’t a problem as long as our men have those!” Torq boasted.

Crussus nodded. “I’ve sent some of the more well-trained men to hunt them down. With their magic nullified, beating them with numbers will work. We need to focus on Varroc. We’ve found him. He’s holed up in a government building with some of his men. If we want to put a stop to this, he’s the one to target.”

Merlin nodded. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Vetica

A series of sharp clangs roared throughout the forest as their blades clashed. Blue hued weapons clashing over and over like strangely colored fireflies fighting for their lives. Aside from the few places where moonlight managed to reach all the way to the forest floor, the magic infused blades were their only source of illumination.

Philomena delivered a series of broad, powerful strokes with her large sword.

Vetica returned a flurry of precise, deadly attacks with her dagger.

They fought like feral creatures, desperately seeking blood.

Vetica hadn’t expected the fight to take this long. The signal had gone up a while ago. She hoped Geron and the others had reached Charlie by now. But she couldn’t leave his fate up to random adventures. She needed to go after him herself. She needed to keep him safe.

Philomena made a mistake, overextending herself.

Vetica capitalized on it.

In mere seconds, a series of puncture marks decorated Philomena’s armor. Blood flowed out of the newly created holes.

They weren’t as deep as Vetica would like, but they were a start.

Philomena’s armor would protect her from fairly powerful attacks, be they the product of man or hex beast.

But Vetica was neither of those things, and she wouldn’t let something like armor keep her from her prey.

There was something new, a presence in the forests that hadn’t been there before. Both of the women jumped back, getting some distance from the other. Their eyes scanned the forest, their ears pricked up. Someone was watching them.

Philomena’s eyes grew wide as she stared deeper into the forest. She turned to run toward Sange.

But Vetica was faster. She cut the woman’s path off.

“Cease this! You’re going to get us both killed. Those are members of Coelacanth. They may not be after you, but they won’t leave you as a witness. We can continue this elsewhere if we must. But remaining here is suicide,” Philomena said.

Vetica casually lifted her dagger and inspected her nails in its glowing blue aura. “If you want to escape, you’ll have to kill me. I’ve never let prey escape just because it asked me to let it. Besides, Coelacanth wouldn’t dare attack me.”

Philomena looked over her shoulder, swallowing. “You think just because you’re strong, they’re afraid of you? That makes you a bigger fool than I thought. Fine. I’ll cut you down.” Philomena paused; her eyes squinted as she studied Vetica’s face. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? That’s why you aren’t afraid of Coelacanth, because of their partnership with the—”

Before Philomena could utter another word, Vetica made her move.

One second, she’d been inspecting her nails.

The next, she was standing several feet behind Philomena with her blade outstretched. Blood dripped from her dagger.

Philomena made a choking noise as her sword fell into the dirt. She dropped to her knees, clutching at her throat.

Vetica looked over her shoulder. “Don’t you ever say that name around me. Don’t you ever say anything again.”

She turned toward Sange; the battle concluded. “Consider death a mercy. If Coelacanth was hunting you, you’re better off dead, anyway.”

A man laughed in the forest behind her. The laughter echoed off in the distance.

But his words came from much closer. Vetica turned to see his silhouette leaning against a tree.

She couldn’t make him out, but she heard his words clear enough.

“That’s kind of you, but we have business with ole Philo here. So, she’s not allowed to die until we say so.”

Vetica shrugged. She turned to look at Philomena one last time. Despite a fatal injury, the woman stretched her hand out toward Vetica.

The despair that woman felt must be quite great if she was looking for sympathy from her enemy.

But Vetica had none to offer. She needed to go to Charlie.

Kashak

Kashak struggled to free himself from the snatcher pinning him down. The red-eyed man was larger than most snatchers. More powerful too. There was a spear nearby, just barely out of reach. Kashak stretched his fingers towards it. With his other hand, he pressed up on the snatcher so it couldn’t rest all its weight on him.

It was trying to take him out of the fight. Kashak knew he couldn’t let that happen. If he did, the other kids wouldn’t stand a chance. The snatchers kept focusing on him. Desmond, Florence and all the other children were doing a great job of taking advantage of it. But this snatcher had managed to force him out of the group.

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He stretched again, his fingers just barely grazing against the spear. The snatcher reached out to restrain Kashak’s hand, but he leaned forward, and head butted it. The snatchers’ head shot backward from the recoil and Kashak secured the shaft of the spear. He rammed it into the side of the snatcher’s head and the weapon splintered into thousands of smaller pieces.

He cursed. He’d always fashioned his own spears to be a thicker, and stronger than the weapons they made for the other hunters. Since he’d broken his in the fight with the Scaler boss, he’d been going through replacements quickly.

Each spear he took was another hunter without a weapon. But Kashak was significantly stronger than the others, and he was used to fighting with a spear. Even if the weapons eventually broke, they were most effective in his hands.

With the snatcher dispatched, Kashak forced his way to his feet. He eyed the snatcher's corpse one last time to make sure it was, in fact, dead. Then he realized how quiet it sounded.

Kashak looked up and his jaw dropped.

The black-haired snatcher from his past stared at him. He’d lost sight of it during the fight. Truthfully, he’d hoped it had been one of the snatchers that had ignored the attacking children and went to the other daycares. But here it was, staring directly at him.

But something even more concerning had occurred.

The rest of the children had finally been captured. He’d known their numbers were dwindling when he finally went down under the snatcher he just killed. At that point, only Desmond and two or three hunters were still unsecured.

But now, it was just him.

The snatchers had restrained all the other children. Some of them were tied up. Some had their arms or wrists being held back. Others were slung over shoulders, still resisting, but failing to set themselves free.

Desmond was pinned against a wall. A snatcher on either side of him pushed his arms against it to keep him from fighting back. He noticed Kashak was still free. “Kashak! Run! We’ve bought all the time we can. Get out of here!” he called out.

Kashak shook his head. What was Desmond talking about? All the others were…Kashak turned and realized the tunnel’s exit was right behind him. There weren’t any snatchers blocking his path. Nothing was stopping him from escaping. He didn’t have to go back to the daycare. He didn’t have to spend the rest of his life here.

Kashak could run.

He wanted to run.

The shame he’d felt turning away from the other children when Varroc took Kyo was nothing compared to the shame he felt for wanting to run away now.

But despite that, he still wanted to. He took a step back. He couldn’t help them even if he wanted.

If he stayed, he’d only be captured, too. But if he escaped, maybe he could find someone to help them. Like what Luc was always saying. He could go to the king or something. Right?

Or maybe he just needed to tell himself whatever it took to be okay with being a coward.

It turned out Desmond wasn’t the only one who thought Kashak should run. The other children shouted encouragement too.

“Kashak run!”

“Get out of here!”

“Hurry Kashak, before they catch you!”

Kashak shook his head. Why did he deserve to escape? What about all the others?

His eyes locked on Florence. She was silent. There was an odd look on her face. Her eyes scanned him like she was looking for something.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the long-haired snatcher started walking toward him.

“No…” he muttered, taking a step back. He couldn’t face this one. He couldn’t.

He’d rather fight the core guardian or Varroc or a thousand Scalers. Anything but this.

He’d had nightmares about facing it again. All those years had passed and yet the memories still haunted him.

Being dragged into the dungeon by this creature…no…not again.

The snatcher stopped. It turned to look back.

Kashak couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Little Josephine had broken free from whatever snatcher was restraining her in the mob. She’d run toward the snatcher, moving toward Kashak, and thrown herself around one of its legs. She’d wrapped her entire body around it, and she punched it as hard as she could with her tiny hands. Josephine turned to look at Kashak, a worried expression on her face.

“Hurry Kashak! Run! I’ll protect you!” She kept punching. Gentle thumps against the creature that had plagued his mind for years. “I won’t let it chase you! Hurry and run!” she said.

She looked so brave.

He remembered what Florence had told him. That the other children looked up to him. When Varroc came, he had turned away from them. She said it had broken her.

Florence, Josephine, everyone was depending on him.

He was the strongest.

But he felt so weak.

The memory came rushing back again.

“Kashak, you have to run!” his father had called out. His father was a strong man. He was powerful. But the snatchers had overwhelmed him. Kashak believed his father could win. His father always won.

One of the green cloaked men with long, black hair had emerged from the group and struck his father with a powerful burst of magic.

Kashak still remembered the cold, dead eyes of the man he looked up to.

Little Kashak had stood there frozen. He’d turned to look back at the trail they’d been traveling on for days.

Run? He was supposed to just run?

He’d had that thought even after the snatchers had captured him. Dragging him away from the corpses of his family.

His father had told him to run. He’d been doing that ever since. He spent most of his time away from the other children, hunting, and training. Scared to sit still and be alone with his thoughts. When Tomas had left, he’d hadn’t pushed to take over leading the daycare even though he was older than Lyra. He’d been running then, too.

And now, all the kids he’d come to consider family, despite his best efforts not to get too attached to them, were telling him to run away too.

But Josephine was fighting, and for a brief second, he saw something strange. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him or what.

But for a split second, Kashak didn’t see Josephine calling out to him and telling him to run away while she fought.

He saw a younger version of himself. What if he hadn’t frozen the day his family died? What if he had fought alongside his father?

He couldn’t go back and save his old family. But right here, right now, he could save his new one.

Kashak’s head started pounding, and he felt an odd sensation in his chest. His hands quivered and his muscles felt tense.

Kashak had always been stronger than your average person. But right now, in this moment, he felt more powerful than he ever had before.

His father had been wrong to tell him to run, and he’d been wrong to put so much stock into his father’s last words all these years.

Even now, Josephine had inspired him so much, but her words were wrong as well.

He shouldn’t run. It was her actions that inspired him. Josephine was fighting.

Kashak would fight too.

“Josephine, get back!” Kashak called out. He broke into a run. Straight for the snatcher that had plagued his nightmares for years. To the snatcher that had killed his family.

He owed so much of his misery in life to this creature.

But even as he ran up and ran his fist straight through the snatcher’s face. Even as its blood splattered his own skin. Kashak was grateful.

Because the hell this creature had delivered him to was a hell where he’d met his family. And for that, he’d go through it all over again.

But he would never run away.

Not anymore.

They were all watching.

The others.

His family.

But this time, he didn’t turn away from the danger ahead. He would use whatever strange new power had awakened inside of him to save them.

Kashak roared and charged ahead, ripping through the snatchers, and setting his family free one by one.

Charlie

Charlie shook his head. He’d seen all of his friends so quickly that it left his head spinning. Merlin was fighting. Who were all those men with him? Vetica was in the forest, fighting that tall lady he’d seen at the gate to Sange. And then there were the children. Things hadn’t looked good, but Kashak was a good fighter. Charlie believed he would save the others.

He had to believe in all his friends. Just like they would have to believe in him.

All of them had a battle to fight. His was about to start.

The core guardian reformed again. Its liquid was murkier now. The organs were still visible, but Charlie couldn’t identify all of them as easily as before.

But what exactly was that? Why had he seen all those visions of his friends?

Wait, isn’t this was Tomas described earlier? He said the dungeon in Sange could see through the eyes of the boars and snatchers that patrolled within its sphere of influence. Had Charlie just done the same thing? It was almost like when he connected with this new dungeon, he’d seen through the eyes of his own allies as well.

His friends were okay for now.

He focused his energy on the dungeon again, just a small piece of it.

“Dungeon Manipulation!”

There was a slight tremor under his hand as the dungeon molded to his will. But such minor efforts wouldn’t be enough for the coming fight.

Charlie had a plan, but it was going to require a lot of power.

He focused his energy. He needed to try altering the dungeon on a larger scale.

“Dungeon Manipulation!”

A wall about the size of Charlie rose from the ground. It was more jagged along the edges than he’d planned for it to be. It was different using his powers like this. The dungeon was resisting. But it wasn’t shutting him out completely.

That was good. So, he’d try to attack.

He activated the ability a third time.

But before he could follow through with his assault, two very unexpected things happened back-to-back.

The first was a vision. Much shorter than the other ones.

He saw Mousifer standing in a dark room. The small black mouse was looking up at a wall of white.

“Squeak!”

The vision faded. “What was that?” Charlie asked, shaking his head.

Where was Bleedy? What was Mousifer doing? The wall in the background made it seem like he wasn’t even in Charlie’s dungeon anymore. But if that was the case, then where could he possibly be?

Charlie felt a sense of relief. Mousifer was alive.

He didn’t have much time to enjoy the realization before the next strange occurrence.

Notice

New Ability unlocked

Convergence (Conditional)

Emergency Notice

Convergence has activated.