I grumbled under my breath as I went to the doors and pawed at them. They swung open ahead of us on soundless hinges, revealing… a crypt. Fortuna still looked like a city, but it no longer smelled like a city. Every plant, every patch of dirt and blade of grass was gone. The Maroons had left a whole lot of dead soldiers and Legions in the streets post-Swarm. Their ninered corpses were the only color against the monochrome sterility of the Centurions capital.

"Jesus," I thought to the others. "The whole place is dead. Clive deserved that fate. Not sure everyone else here did."

"Anyone sheltering inside should have been okay." Angel didn't look too certain as she slipped past me, glancing warily at the sky. It was still heavily clouded, stained an ugly shade of violet-red. “I have messages from the Maroons, but I don’t see anyone.”

“Oh. Hang on.” I fired off a quick one-liner to Merc. “Coast’s clear.”

A minute or two passed, and then the Maroons began to peel out of the buildings around the plaza. I recognized some of the old guard, people from Eden. There were a lot of new faces. Merc and Solomon emerged out of a doorway. Behind them, the Kerburos from the mines squeezed through. Collared and docile, it glanced at me with a guilty air as it padded along after its new mistress.

“You motherfuckers actually did it.” Merc jogged over to Angel, slapped her shoulder, then pulled her into a hug. Angel blinked a couple of times as Merc pounded her back and let her go. “You fucking did it. Kaban's dead. Dead-dead. How the FUCK did you pull that off?"

I rumbled. "Turns out that Imperator Argent was really made out of meat all along.”

“By the way, if you decide to ever challenge Rachini, don't step over the gold circle unless you're a hundred and ten percent sure you're ready," Angel voiced to her.

"Duly noted." Merc looked past Angel at me and Chief and Kaya, and her eyes widened. "Holy shit. Is that Caligula?"

"The Anzu? Oh, yeah. He's on Team Noodles now. His name's Chief." I glanced over my shoulder at the Anzu, who quorked and tilted his head. "Turns out he's a moron. But he's OUR moron. Isn’t that right, Chief?"

“Quork?” The Anzu tilted his head to one side. There was no one home in that little birdy skull of his.

"God. It's true. I can't believe he's actually dead." Merc ran a hand up through her messy bob of hair. "Well... as dead as any part-timer can be. He'll be back, and he’ll be PISSED. But he'll have to start from the ground up. This time, we can be ready for the Sponsoreds."

"You know, now I think about it... What stops him from coming back and just flooding the server with part-time mooks and tanks or some shit?" I asked. "Chorus never explained that part."

"Dunno." Merc shrugged. " If Chorus knows, it's never told me. Refuses to talk about the Sponsored or anything pertaining to them. Way back when, when I realized a bunch of Russian Brits were kind of running the show, I asked it why it allowed Kaban to run this place. Chorus implied I should drop the subject, or I'd find myself facing a statistically improbable number of alpha t-rexes. So I dropped it."

I filed that bit of information away for later. "So you didn't come here with Kaban?"

Merc shook her head. "I don't remember anything outside of Malae. Kind of pieced together that I was probably private military. Corporate soldier, or maybe just a glorified mall cop somewhere. I speak some Russian, but it's the Jewish New York kind. All of Kaban's inner circle – other than me – are either Brits who speak Russian, or Russians who speak Brit."

The Solonov Bratva likely originates in the UK. I would need to analyze Dimitri's letter again to confirm, but we had narrowed it down to a region. That was information I could pass along... Not that I was sure I could trust Cold_Fox after their shitty advice on Clive.

Angel quickly, tiredly signed, then remembered who she was speaking to and switched to voice. "Oh, sorry. Anyway... so, what's next?"

Merc sighed, and glanced back at Solomon and her people. Sixty or so Maroons were fanning out, securing the empty plaza. "No rest for the wicked, I'm afraid. We have to secure Fortuna, now, before Kaban returns or one of the other Duxes gets their shit together and makes a bid for power. We have a chance to turn this place around, so that's what we're going to do. All of us, all the people left. We'll build something better."

"I'd try and convince you to just ascend and leave this place to sort itself out, but I already know you won't." Angel smiled faintly.

Merc shook her head. "Not a hope in hell. Doc's down to his last life. Me... I've only got two left. No one knows shit about the Third Realm, but we know each realm is a lot harder than the last. The Third Realm is also where a huge amount of the Syndicate's money is made. Nic... Kaban, he used to say his real job was 'screening for talent' to move on from here to the next realm. There are different rules, different materials. My guess? Fewer glitches and other mistakes."

"If the Third Realm makes the most money, what's the point of the Second and First?"

Merc sucked on one of her teeth, frowning. "Second Realm is for the high rollers. Kind of like... private servers, almost. I've heard rumors that rich sadistic fucks kind of act like Gamemasters there, steering the fates of the gladiators somehow. The First Realm, no idea. It may just honestly be like a Platinum FRAME, some kind of paradise world, but if there's Syndicate members there, doubt it's any kind of paradise I'd want to live in. Could also be like... a studio. There's kinds of illegal entertainment people like to watch other than bloodsports, you know?"

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"Like porn," I said. "Really niche, highly illegal kinds of porn."

Lulu shuddered through like a bowl of jello. "Uuugh."

"Porn. Shotgun roulette, or just reality TV. 'Afterlife Styles of the Rich and Famous: Uncut.' Who the hell knows what twisted shit our beloved elites would do if they didn't have to worry about laws." Merc grimaced. "We have no idea how big the operation is. Not even Kaban knows. He’s the lowest of the middle-managers. And me... whoever I was, whatever I was, I think my place is with these idiots."

Solomon grunted agreement. "Hell of a lot of those here."

"Right? On that note, I'd love to stay and chit-chat, but if we don't take advantage of this now, then someone else will." Merc's expression intensified as she reached out to clasp Angel's hand. She looked into her eyes, then into mine. Then to Lulu.

"You three... you three really have a shot at this," she continued. "At reaching the top. Do what you gotta do. But if you take one thing away from this kiddy pool of an island, then let it be this. You don't have to do shit alone. Stick with each other. Take care of each other. Whatever you do. Okay?"

Angel and I looked at each other. A rosy blush spread over Angel's pale, soot-and-blood smeared cheeks.

"Uuuhooo hoo~," Lulu trilled knowingly.

Mercy grinned, and let go of Angel to step back. She got herself a cigarette, lit it with a small oil sparker, then turned to Solomon. "Alright, enough touchy-feely shit. Let's get these fuckers in line and go and take out the Deuces of the city before they dig themselves in."

"Yes ma'am." Solomon saluted, then turned to bark at their platoons. "Maroons! Form up, heading north!"

"Thank you," Angel said to Mercy as she turned to leave. "I feel like we never got to know you. I mean, I want to get to know you better but... thank you."

"You didn't. And I didn't get to know fuck about you, either." Mercy exhaled a cloud of smoke and croaked one of her hard, harsh laughs. "But sometimes all you really need is to know someone’s character. We can save the life stories for when you somehow reach the First Realm and wring some Syndicate neck. Just remember that we'll be rooting for you here in God's tropical asshole."

The five of us stood by as Mercy went over to her newest Legion and vaulted up onto its back. A few of the other Maroons also had Legions now. A handful of Brutes and Cutes had emerged from their hiding places to join the humans. Merc flipped us a casual salute without turning around, leading her people to the next stage of their battle. As we watched them file I had to wonder how many of them had human minds.

"Well, that's that for us." Angel signed. "At least for here. But now that we've both got teams of our own..."

"I know. And don't worry. We're not 'ascending' without you and your team." I turned the tip of my muzzle toward her, exhaling a blast of steam through the grille at the end of my snout. "I promised you I'd help you take the mandalas. I'm gonna make good on that promise. With all of us working together, should be a piece of cake."

Angel smiled. It was a little bittersweet, as was the way she came to me and threw her arms around my neck, hugging my head against her body. She held me for nearly half a minute before letting go so she could use her hands.

"I know you did. And I know you'd keep that promise," she signed. "But for my own sake, I think I need to earn them myself alongside Kaya and Halo."

My ears pricked up with alarm. "But-"

"It's okay. Lulu looted Rachini's mandala off of Kaban and passed it to me back in the temple. I won't need to fight her again. Not that I'm afraid or anything. I just don't want to sic her swarm event on the island a third time, not while Merc is in the middle of a revolution." Angel's expression was somewhere between sad, troubled, and serene as she continued. "And don't worry, I don't want to leave you and Lulu. I want to ascend together, but I need to defeat the other two bosses without the help of someone as overpowered as you. I need to know I can do it with the team and the tools I have. For my own sake."

"I get it." I had to take a second to compose myself. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much the idea of her breaking off with me would hurt. "I swear I won't interfere in any of your fights, but I'm not moving onto this 'Gate of Ascension' 'til you're done."

A warm smile flooded her face. "Thank you. I... I don't know what to say, really. You could have left me for dead weeks ago, and it probably would have been easier for you."

"It might have. But Merc's right: we make a hell of a team." I rubbed my cheek and the marking glands there against her arm, like a friendly cat. "So now we've saved each other's lives a few times... Am I allowed to say you're cute now?"

"Am I allowed to say YOU'RE cute?" Angel playfully shoved at my shoulder. She might as well have tried to shove a wall.

"You can, but it'd be kind of weird," I replied. "Fortunately, I, the Magnetically Tantalizing Noodles the 4th, PhD, am a gentleman. I shall remain diligently chivalrous. But just so you know, I'm pretty sure Lulu is already planning our wedding."

"Oooo..." Lulu blobbed up and down in agreement. "Whoote druss oo ivoory? Choocoloote cuuke? Rood velvoot?" she paused, and let out a dramatic little gasp. "Eee! Can uu bu Mothuu of thu Broode!?"

Angel busted up laughing - that high, pure, wild laugh that twisted something in my gut. In a good way. The way that made me think the lady wasn't just ‘cute’. She was gorgeous.

"A wedding between a gladiator and a Legion. Now that's some First Realm content right there," she signed back, grinning from ear to ear. "And don't worry, Noodles. You and I... we felt each other through the collar link, didn't we? I know you're a gentleman, and you know I mean every word I’ve ever said. And I enjoy your chivalry."

"Good." I rumbled and puffed, fighting the urge to lash my tail. It was a small mercy that Reapers couldn't blush. Because... well. Angel hadn't exactly shut Lulu down on the wedding talk, had she? "In that case, me, Lulu, and the Chief will chivalrously keep assholes from camping the arena entrances while you and your team do your thing.

"That would be great." Angel signed back as she strode toward Kaya. The Holy stag, now crowned with only one glowing antler, bowed to let her climb onto his back.

As Halo fell into position behind Angel's head, a complex feeling swelled in my chest. A little pride. A little awe. A little fear, too, because I knew. Oh, I knew. Somewhere out there in the world of the living were a syndicate of small, evil men. Men with tailored suits and too much money, brooding in their super-yachts and McMansions and private jets. Those evil, small-but- grossly powerful men were tuned into our video feeds. And they watched this brilliant white flame of a woman, Joan of Arc risen from the dead, while they fumed with a mixture of lust and hatred for all that she was and they could never be.

They would try to crush her. And they would try to crush me.

They had no idea who they were fucking with.