Caitlyn could only look on in mounting horror, as the beast that was supposed to have died, stabbed Andrew through the guts, then tossed him casually to the side.

She flinched upon hearing the meaty thwack of his landing. The sound alone so terrible she couldn’t even bring herself to look. She reached for the children instinctively, though whether it was to shield their eyes, or to comfort herself, she didn’t rightly know.

Almost against her will, Caitlyn watched the malicious beast approach, as it staggered its way towards them. What passed for a hand clamped down hard on the gash in its neck, as if its fingers were the only thing keeping its head on its shoulders.

Kit was, unsurprisingly, the next to fall.

She shrank back as his idiotic charge and fragile battle cry was cut short with a wet cough. A lazy jab all it took for the beast to plant its blade through Kit’s chest, and out the other side.

Something too quick for her to make out whizzed past in Caitlyn’s periphery.

Flying as if drawn towards the rat creature, it too was easily swept aside by a flourish of the beast’s blade—the sharp clang of metal on stone rebounding throughout the hall.

That wasn’t the end of it, however, as what she could now make out as knives, dozens of projectiles, soon flew with unerring accuracy towards the staggering beast.

Caitlyn’s brief flare of hope died just as quickly as it’d been born, as each and every one of the hurled projectiles were either neatly deflected or evaded outright.

In the next moment, Simon himself flashed past, two daggers in hand and as solemn an expression as she’d ever seen on him—displaying a degree of bravery Caitlyn was ashamed to realize she hadn’t believed him capable of.

He too was cut down in short order, however, though he did manage to put up a fight.

Which only left Caitlyn, the children, and Mingxuan. For a moment Caitlyn dared to hope Mingxuan’s industrious mind, of all things, would be capable of formulating a plan to get them all out of this.

It only took one look at the girl’s stiff, half frozen posture to disabuse her of any such notion. If anything, Mingxuan looked even more terrified than she did.

And yet… even despite that, there she stands.

Caitlyn recoiled at the hot wash of shame that thought brought her. Caught between outright denial and indignation, she found herself wanting to reassure the girl. This despite everything that lay between them.

“There’s no need to be scared Mingxuan,” Caitlyn managed to say despite her own voices trembling. “He’ll be here soon. I can feel it. You only need to hold it off for a little bit longer-”

Caitlyn never got to finish her sentence as something about what she’d said jolted Mingxuan from her stupor.

“ENOUGH!” Mingxuan roared, turning sharply to face her. “Still?! Are you serious? They’re dead! Don’t you get that?! They died for you, for the children, and still with your fucking fantasies. You selfish, self-centered, gods damned coward! I-!”

Mingxuan’s words were abruptly cut short. Uncomprehending, the girl locked frantic eyes with Caitlyn, who in turn practically mirrored the young woman’s look of surprise. With a sickening burbling, Mingxuan regurgitated what looked, to her, like far far too much blood—spilling down her front to puddle around her feet.

In the next moment her grip loosened—her weapon clattering uselessly. Where it then rolled to stop mere inches from the children. Mingxuan tried to speak, but all that came out was more blood. With a shaky hand she reached for the center of her chest. Her chest, and the rough blade protruding from it. Then, with a vicious twist, followed by a sharp tug, the sword was ripped free.

And, just like that, like a puppet with its strings cut, the once fiercely determined young woman dropped bonelessly to the blood slick floor.

Caitlyn gaped at the crumpled form. That they hadn’t exactly been close abruptly ceasing to matter. That Mingxuan had only been killed, stabbed in the back without even the chance to defend herself, because she’d been distracted by her…

It was all that dominated Caitlyn’s mind.

The beast took yet another shuffling step towards them, it’s pace noticeably slowed, while the crimson beard of blood encrusted fur now covered the majority of its chest.

How it was even still standing with a wound like that, Caitlyn had no idea. All she knew was that its slow, plodding, implacable steps chilled her to her very core. She felt like vomiting.

Briefly the urge to flee flashed through her mind. The seductive voice of self-preservation counseling caution, circumspection, cowardice. Whispering into her ear all the things she wanted to hear.

That she was nowhere near qualified for any of this.

That to attempt anything would only be an exercise in futility. A waste of time. A waste of her life. A waste of the noble sacrifice the others had made in her stead. That there was no helping what had already happened, tragic though it might have been. And that, in any event, her contribution would’ve been negligible at the very best.

At least someone should survive this disaster, right?

And when it came down to it, who's to say it shouldn’t be her? The beast was practically half dead already. It shouldn’t be too long before it succumbed to its wounds. But then again, peering up into those baleful little eyes, seeing the unbridled hatred housed there, Caitlyn couldn’t help but feel that this beast wouldn’t allow itself to die until all of them were dead.

And then there were the four other beasts to consider. And that said nothing of the children. The still bodies. Her fellow captives. Her friends.

Caitlyn was moving before her traitorous mind could convince her otherwise.

She found her hands wrapping around the slippery shaft of the fallen spear, already raising the wobbly tip towards the beast as she charged. Slick blood fouled her grip, not to mention her steps, though she payed all that little mind.

Her thoughts so frazzled in that endless moment, that it was unlikely she could have, even if she’d wanted to. Something about her sudden charge must’ve startled the evil beast, because, as she ran full tilt towards it, the thing actually hesitated.

Heart pounding impossibly loud in her ears, she never noticed how its eyes flicked almost imperceptibly over her shoulder. Only that it’d stopped in its tracks briefly. How the end of her spear was so tantalizingly close to its chest.

Caitlyn slipped and stumbled on the bloody tiles, though her focus remained remarkably steady. Her eyes stung, and her throat felt raw. She’d been screaming bloody murder ever since committing to the charge. A shrill war cry that would’ve likely made even Kit proud.

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With one last shout of raw defiance, Caitlyn threw herself the last few steps.

More a stumbling lurch than a traditional attack, Caitlyn nevertheless aimed for center mass as she struck—not confident in her ability to land anything precise.

And so it happened that, with a last-minute jerk of the spear, more fluke than anything she’d actually intended, her unpracticed lunge took the beast slightly off center—neatly skewering the evil thing straight through its black heart.

Avenging her friends with one swift strike.

Properly honoring their memory after all they’d given to protect her, and ending the devil’s reign of savagery, once and for all.

Or… at least… that’s what she’d rehearsed in her head.

What happened in reality was far less picturesque. The beast caught her spear well before it got anywhere near its chest. Then, almost distractedly, it snapped off the head, flicked its eyes in her direction, then backhanded her across the room hard enough to make her cartwheel through the air. She impacted the floor some distance away.

There was some time before she remembered where exactly she was.

Moaning, Caitlyn groggily tried to rise to her feet, only to nearly pass out from the burst of pain that consumed her. Almost immediately, she noticed a distinct lack of response from her left arm, and a throbbing sensation that dominated the whole right side of her face.

A throbbing that quickly morphed into an insistent burning—as if the skin were being peeled away one strip at a time. She collapsed, shifting her weirdly protruding left shoulder in the process and nearly blacking out from the waves of agony that assailed her.

It was worse than anything she’d ever experienced. Worse than anything she’d ever thought possible.

And yet, she knew she couldn’t just lie there and wait for the end. She at least wanted to see her death coming, now that she was at the mercy of the very beast that’d broken her friends. Broken her friends just as easily as it’d broken her.

But then it wasn’t just her, was it?

Oh gods, the children! What will they do to the children?!

The mere thought of it… the possibilities…! Caitlyn had to suppress a sob. She needed to do something. Plead for their lives maybe, or… something! They didn’t deserve this. Frankly none of them deserved this, but, out of all of them, the little ones deserved it the least.

Damnit!

She needed to get the hell up before it was too late! Gritting her teeth—then grimacing upon noticing that quite a few of them were missing—Caitlyn rose up onto her good elbow and forced herself to look, nearly paralyzed by what she might see.

Her preemptive grimace quickly turned to a look of confusion, however, when the horrific scene of carnage and heartbreak she’d prepared herself for, failed to materialize.

And what she found in its stead was… well, to be honest she didn’t know what to make of it.

There was a boy dressed in robes. A lot like what one might expect to see on a sect nomad.

He looked somewhat unkempt, probably a few years younger than her sixteen years, and was currently kneeling over the body of Mingxuan, shoving what looked to be a small round ball into her mouth.

What did he think he was doing?!

The hot flare of anger she felt surprised Caitlyn. Though not nearly as much as what next held her attention. At first, she couldn’t make sense of it. The big bad spirit beasts—confident enough to challenge them with just one of their member were… were they…? …quivering with fright?

That was what it looked like to her.

Surely not, though!

Caitlyn fought the urge to rub her eyes in disbelief or pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Shivering violently as if they’d suddenly caught a chill, all five beasts remained exactly where they were. Like prey that’d found themselves in the presence of their main predator.

And each and every one of them with their eyes staring fixedly at… the boy!

Caitlyn watched wide eyed as he stood up from whatever he was doing and just casually walked past the injured beast. Within arm's reach even! Not even giving the thing a second glance, he first kneeled before Simon and then again before Kit—doing to them as he had done to Mingxuan.

And then the boy turned his attention… towards… her.

The thrill of panic, bordering on terror, that lanced through her in that moment was not something she felt qualified to put into words. In this awful place teeming with true monsters—the likes of which she’d only ever seen in nightmares—this boy, this human, so far as she could tell, might as well have been the scariest thing of them all.

Of a breed entirely his own, and in a way she didn’t, no, couldn’t understand. When he looked at her, she felt the swift whisper of motion all over.

A stomach lurching sensation which she now knew to associate with near death experience. As if, in that single moment, dozens of invisible blades had failed to spill her lifesblood, though only by the barest margin.

And if his mere gaze threatened to maim and dismember her, his near proximity sought to press the very breath from her lungs. Every step he took towards her bringing about more and more discomfort, as if some giant’s hand was attempting to crush the very life from her, one rib creaking squeeze at a time.

And then, before she knew it, the young man was kneeling over her—reaching into the bag at his waist and retrieving something Caitlyn couldn’t quite make out. It was almost impossible to see through the waves of overwhelming pressure he exuded.

“Oh! You’re awake,” he glanced down at her with eyebrows raised—as if seeing her for the first time—then he shrugged. “Should make things easier then. Here, swallow this,” he said.

Caitlyn tried desperately to jerk her head away, but it was to no avail. Too much was happening way too fast, and she could barely tell up from down with the amount of pain she was in. The constant pressure wafting off of the cultivator only made her feeble resistance all the more futile.

The round something entered her mouth with little fuss—the intensely bitter taste instantly setting off alarm bells in her head.

With what felt like the last bit of stubborn will she had left, Caitlyn promptly spit back out whatever it was, then glared up into those surprisingly thoughtful eyes, brimming with defiance. For his part, the boy simply stared back at her nonplussed. And, for a while they stayed that way, silently assessing one another with suspicion and curiosity in turn.

Then, as if coming to a decision, he shrugged.

“Fine. Have it your way,” he said, rising to his feet. “But those claw marks on your face look pretty bad. They’ll probably leave scars without healing. Also, I’m pretty sure these guys aren’t too keen on personal hygiene so it might even fester before it heals. Or not heal at all, I honestly have no idea.”

The boy stretched his back, then began to work out the kinks in his neck, his gaze focused squarely on the injured beast. From what she could tell, it didn’t appear to be flourishing under the attention.

“Knew it was all too good to be true, this place” he muttered. “I swear, if these overgrown rodents hound me all the way to the surface I’ll come back down here and annex these damned caverns just so I can evict the bastards.”

Caitlyn’s mind blanked out for a moment, then labored intensively in a bid to catch up. To possibly make sense out of what she was hearing. Healing? What in the world was he talking about?

And what was that about annexing…?

It was then that she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. Jerking her head in that direction, she was aghast to find Mingxuan’s prone form stirring. To find… all of her friend’s prone forms stirring. As if they were suddenly rising from the dead, or…?

Mending pills. Of course!

She’d heard that the life-giving medicines were strong, afforded by only the wealthiest of families, but never this strong! His offhanded mention of claw marks suddenly brought to the fore how very badly her face hurt, and she suddenly realized how much of a fool she’d been in refusing aid.

“W-wait!” she stammered—the movement making her wince—only to look up and realize that the boy was already gone.

Or, no. Not gone. He was right over there.

Fighting with the beasts.

Simultaneously, by the looks of it.

Though she would later come to recognize—with a detached sense of morbid fascination—that what came after couldn’t really be called a fight. If anything, what she witnessed in that dust covered dining hall so far beneath the world as she’d once known it—within a city long buried and forgotten by time—turned out to be little more than a one-sided affair.

A merciless slaughter. No two ways around it.