Darkness surrounded her from every side; the stone around her melted into a parody of a cinder block, trapping her like an insect in amber. There was no air, and she had the vaguest notion of direction after the thunderous explosion had pushed her deep, spinning Alpha several times. Her suit was breached in several areas, and her pale flesh was scorched to the bone, and now the burns and wounds twitched from the irritation of reappearing nerves and steamed during regeneration.

She worried more about her named allies than herself. The protective coating on the claws disappeared and Alpha began to widen her prison, cutting through the solidified obstacles. The echolocation function of her suit was useless; her own nose and ears couldn’t pick up a single noise of a living being. That Abyss murdered everything, even more effectively than her fear wave.

Slowly a finger moved, then an arm, and cracks spread from her armored form as the systems busily restarted the protocols responsible for air recycling and ran diagnostics on the damage. The important thing was not to panic. She would not need O₂ for hours, and she exhaled just once, mourning her hair. It seemed so insignificant, so selfish, but Alpha secretly adored this sweet and innocent part of her; the act of combing the shining reddish strands using a hairbrush clumsily held between her paws always brightened her mood, and their silvery touch proved that there was beauty in everything and that the circumstances of her creation did not define her.

It took decades of care to grow them that long. Alpha intended to do so again.

A claw widened the space before the warlord, covering her blackened suit in dust. The claustrophobic environment dawned on Alpha, but not in the way she expected. Her lenses dispelled the surrounding night, and the gray, occasionally glassy surfaces eerily resembled the walls of the capsule in which she had been held, or the corridors of that cursed laboratory.

Unburdened, Alpha redoubled her efforts. The best way to handle the unpleasant things was to solve them, and she refused to stay buried. A report came in, announcing the failure to establishing a connection with Janine’s pack. A shame. Alpha desired to know about Marco’s condition and learn why in the Abyss her named sister wore that ugly-ass thin armor.

The rumors about her and Bertruda must’ve been true. Disgusting. The sword saint is married.

Long and grueling years of terraforming went down the drain. Because of Ravager’s softness. Alpha lifted a partially freed leg, so the knee touched her chin and kicked, carving herself a small chamber. Then again, she had no right to blame the commander. It was that very softness that spared her and gave many another chance.

The roof above her cracked, filling the small space with the thuds of rocks scraping against her armor. Good. She straightened from a crouched position, sinking the claws into the above and splintering the artificial bedrock. Damn the feelings. Screw the past grievances. That was something Alpha had never understood about Ravager. Doubts crippled Mother, and that was well; a being of her abilities was wise to give more thought to her actions. But the madness of what had transpired chained Ravager.

By the Spirits, Alpha herself had committed unspeakable evil, but what was the point of dwelling on it, of wallowing in misery? Now and here was what mattered; Ravager herself had taught Alpha that. Why couldn’t Mother tough it out? Why must Ravager be so fallible, so… human?

No matter. Do your duty. The war isn’t over yet.

She continued to dig her way to the surface, using the navigation the suit’s processor readily provided, soon swinging her arms fully. Alpha didn’t make a simple, straight, ninety-degree tunnel, as climbing directly up would invite tons of rubble to fall down and send her back to the starting point. She swam at an angle, stubbornly paving a way for herself with the tips of her claws and gaining a new respect for the miners.

And a hatred of cave diving. Proceeding on her stomach, stopping to chop particularly tough boulders into pieces, then placing her palms on the ground to squeeze her body into the tunnel she made and repeating the process for the hundredth time was maddening. She wanted to stand and run and spin and jump and crouch and hunt. Screw the caves of any kind and screw the skinwalkers offers.

Getting scared, girl? Yeah. Nervous, at least. Alpha admitted to herself. She had gotten used to being surrounded by humans. Complete isolation gnawed at her nerves, evoking memories of absorbed people, and she turned on the music Zero had gifted her, and the infernal chanting, full of what sounded like garbage cans banging against each other and the riff of a guitar, filled her ears.

Hands on my neck, legs on my back…

How is it even physically feasible? Alpha tried to discern the lyrics sung by her named sister. Such an angelic voice, wasted on the unholy, gravelly throat singing. She tried to imagine a skinwalker holding Zero by the neck while another kicked the warlord in the back, and it still looked ridiculous.

Locked in slumber, never awake in that metal coffin of mine…

Then the paws reached me at long last…

Though I am fighting alone, I am no longer alone; I’ve got people for whom I want to survive…

Want to. Curious choice of words. Alpha grinned. Zero considered herself to be the most progressive out of them, but she was a really slow snail, wary of leaving her shell after what had happened. But that? That was a step. Then her mood soured as Alpha summed the file onto her screen, and it was titled: Album 1: Song 36. Now I know that Miss ‘I named my rifle Big Gun’ wrote it. How is it possible to be so devoid of creativity?

She pressed on, grumbling about the mindless nonsense spewing from the dynamics, and kept forming herself a tunnel ahead, occasionally listening to the collapses behind her. Half an hour later, she thrust her arm in the same, now mechanical motion, and a ray of sunlight broke through the prison of darkness, reflecting almost playfully off her lens. Without haste, the warlord pushed her body forward and stabbed again, opening an exit to the surface.

Alpha crawled out into the desolate wasteland, recognizing nothing. Based on her current coordinates, she was below Opul, but the sky was blue above her, and several puffy white clouds were passing toward her destination. So peaceful, while the rugged ground was devoid of any sign of life. Not even the Ravaged Lands were this desolate. She didn’t feel any parasites, no scavengers circling around in search of a corpse, nothing.

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Her helmet opened, and she took a deep breath, stopping when the ground shook. Cracks snaked out, spewing tongues of flame, and blackened fingers followed, gripping the edge tightly. The skeleton pulled itself from beneath the ground, the leathery skin wrapped around its bones tearing and reforming, and two points smoldering in its pitch-black eye sockets found Alpha, and in unison they prepared for battle.

The absurdity of the situation was almost physically offensive. Here they stood, demigods in a world of ashes, a man-crafted butcher facing a freak of an accident. And neither of them could do anything but be driven to try to kill each other.

“Enough of it.” Alpha spat on the ground, shrugging off the metaphysics as the helmet closed around her head.

“Indeed.” Horkhudagh shuddered, giggling, and his bones rattled. “No more traps and intricate plots involving the risk and sacrifice of others; we will settle this as it should have been from the beginning. Know that I respect your sense of loyalty, but unless you bow, there is only one way for your fate to end. I see dents and cuts in your armor, one of your launchers is gone, your left knee is unprotected, and there are exposed wires at your waist. Impressive. I wonder how much of your suit is still functional. What will it be? Submission or execution?”

“I extend the same offer to you. Why serve the Horde?” Alpha asked, tilting her head. “The state pays better and prefers not to rule over ruins. How about joining?”

“The kind offer is declined.” The skeleton waved a finger, coating himself in an aura of flame. “Perhaps if I had heard it earlier, before my comrades died, but now… Loyalty is its own reward, and I have sworn mine to Iron Lord and, by extension, to Mad Hatter. My future, and that of my people, is tied to theirs.”

“Then you have no future,” Alpha told him plainly.

Horkhudagh stretched the narrow opening of his mouth to mimic the smirk, and the ground between them erupted. A black bone blade, covered in the brightest blue flame, rose from the depths, its hooked end aimed between her legs. Alpha stepped back, heard the hiss of the bone scratching against her chest, and slashed, cutting the weapon in two.

She leapt to the left and was caught by a blooming flower sprouting beneath her feet. From Horkhudagh’s back, red threads spilled down into the cracks, and he continued to fashion weapons out of her sight. The flower closed around her, searing exposed parts of her flesh, and she gritted her teeth and fired the remaining plasma discharger, burning a path to freedom. Instinctively, she expanded her fear wave, forming a thin needle that touched the hordeman, who didn’t even flinch. Whatever he was, her emotional manipulation had no effect on the man.

How irritating.

She kicked a stone at Horkhudagh’s head and stopped, sensing the traitor’s arrival. Feet shattered the stone, heading toward the battle, and a familiar faint hiss cut through the noise. The boulder melted in the middle, passing Horkhudagh’s flame-crowned head. Blades of blue grew in his hands, and new tools of murder rose to the surface, bulging entire slabs of stone, trapping Alpha in the cage.

The gallant fool made it first, and the heat of the newborn star touched Horkhudagh. First barely flicked his wrists, and the arms were already flying; his sweep took the legs from under the hordeman and the return slash decapitated the enemy. The Sunblade streaked past the column of blue rising around the suspended in the air torso and stabbed; his ancient sword, a torch shining brighter than the sun, landed in the very center of the column.

But the attack failed. Horkhudagh’s core fled with the rising column, still carrying the weapons he had conjured upon the warlord. No blade or claw touched her; the Sunblade, a miniature copy of his noble parents, stopped near her, and the cut in two tools fell slowly to the ground. He was clad in white, immaculate armor, every edge of his suit covered in gold. His chest, incrusted with diamonds and rubies, glittered with every movement, and a heavy purple cloak cascaded from underneath his pauldrons, untouched by the hordeman’s flame. His own long hair was tied into a plait decorated by precious metals and tied at his waist.

“Tch. Cowardly cur.” First turned off the Sunblade, and only the handle was left in his paw. He placed it into the heavy sheath, tracing the flying upward enemy. Soon the orb disappeared behind a cloud, and the grandmaster faced Alpha, bowing respectfully. “Lady Alpha, my deepest regrets for arriving at such a late hour. I endeavored to arrive with the utmost haste upon hearing the news of the foul peril that has befallen Opul. My brave hunters have already escorted to safety those of the citizens who fled toward our positions…”

“Drop the chit-chat, traitor.” Alpha shrugged, not caring in the slightest if he had saved her or not. To think that she considered him a comrade.

“I understand your disgruntlement, Warlord, and partially agree with it,” First said. “I assure you, the fault lies solely with the Sword Saints, myself included. The members of my Order are innocent of any wrongdoing…”

“Are they?” Alpha scoffed. “A cub of my sister was on the battlefield. Am I to believe that she brought him on her own on a field trip? That none of your filth said a word to stop the folly?”

“The circumstances of this incident are unknown to me, Lady Alpha…” First began cautiously.

“Then make them known.” She leaned his snout to his, the steam rising from her open mouth. “Who’s to say that you came to help me not because I am your ally, but because I am a useful tool to keep your ilk safe?”

“Lady, fatigue is warping your perception. Never would I look at you or the Wolf Tribe as tools. You are my family…” First stopped when Alpha opened her helmet to reveal the healing burn that stretched from her nostril to the left side of her skull. The lidless eye gazed at the grandmaster.

“Family? Were you our family when Tancred ignored Dragena’s orders and led many to their deaths, exposing the cubs to danger? What about the communication blackout between our forces that resulted in the deaths of my sisters? My kin survived by mere chance after the Order’s recklessness and refusal to cooperate caused them to be shot down during their escape. And this, today…” Her claws trembled; the wicked thoughts she seeped from the dead called for violence, threatening to drown the smaller personality. It took her several breaths to calm herself. “One is a mistake. Two is an accident. More is an obvious pattern. Our youth has been exposed to danger again.”

“The Wolf Tribe is known for its harsh treatment of its children,” First said quickly and fell silent.

“Is that an implication I hear?” Alpha asked quietly. “Shall we compare the list of sins committed by our groups? I know our history, and I was never in support of what happened to the cubs. I flayed the one most responsible and murdered those who led the little ones to their deaths, and if Janine is guilty of what you say, I will do the deed again, and with pleasure and intense hatred. But I have tasted her before. And doubt you, not her!” She pointed the claw at First’s head and closed the helmet. “Even now you try to drive a wedge between me and my named sister, seeking advantage in the coming argument.”

“That wasn’t my intention. I simply sought not to blame anyone prior to the investigation…”

“Family doesn’t do that. We argue, but don’t deflect,” Alpha said.

“No, but you are projecting. Lady Alpha, right now you are condemning everyone for the sins and mistakes of a few,” First said. “Nobles and commoners of the Order fought valiantly by the Wolf Tribe’s side.”

“Tancred is no longer here, and Leonidas is gone, but our boy is still injured. Enough of this quarrel,” Alpha said. “We are done being used, ignored, or fed shit by your kind. I am heading for the convoy. You?”

“Not immediately,” First said. “Our holdings in the north are threatened, and while the buildings can be rebuilt, the workers cannot.”

“You are needed in Houstad.” Alpha growled.

“I will head there right away with my forces…” He looked aside. “After I see him off.”

“You can’t be serious,” Alpha said. “That’s suicide.”

“That is his wish.”

“Is that so…” She tried to detect any falsehood in his words, but First stood still, his head bowed in sadness. “Whatever. Another life lost to the war, then. Do what you must and act your rank by sending me information about your forces at paw and how soon they can reach Houstad. That city won’t fail.”