The living only exists because of the dead, and even in death, they carry us forward. It was a macabre thought, but Korsha knew it was true. More than most. Even now, as she trudged through the snow and ash, their flakes smothering the world around her, slowly burying it alive beneath their duality, she knew the dead were watching her. The eyes of the ancestral spirits judged her. She hoped they'd whisper a prayer to the goddess for her. Though she doubted they saw her as worthy. The thought made the brand on her chest itch beneath her armor.

A howling wind scraped the ground before her. Its passing left a tear in the sooty blanket that had smothered the world. Korsha stopped, her gaze pulled down to the newly formed gash. Dropping onto her heels, her under armor creaked as she inspected the yellow band that marred the ground. She swiped the snow aside, revealing the weathered and pockmarked sign.

Her breaths came out in hot misty pants as she revealed the bands of purple that lined the sign's perimeter. She stood up, ignoring the slight ache in her back. The Dominion's military emblem was etched upon its surface. Typical brutish threats, Korsha thought as she scanned the sign.

Dominion Property.

Intruders will be shot on sight.

She huffed. A shiver running down her spine. Not from the threat, but from the cold. She'd heard that the northern regions suffered the wrath of winter, but she had been truly unprepared for its intensity. Her armor could only compensate for so much. It at least fought back the cold and kept her muscles loose.

Trudging forward, her eyes were fixed upon the hazy gray blotch before her. It grew. Took shape. Solidified. Now towering over her, she stopped. The gray concrete was marred by some purple substance. She grimaced, wondering if someone had actually tried to break in and met the business end of the auto turrets that were lined across the top of the wall.

A frosted, bitter breath escaped her lips as she searched for the gate. The storm had confused her, drawn her off course. She'd missed her insertion point. She eyed the auto turrets. Could she outpace them? She shook her head.

Probably not.

Of course, they'd be placed on a redundant tertiary backup system. She ground her teeth together as she lifted her arm. The omnivice appeared, rectangular shapes of red and orange running from wrist to forearm. She scowled. Still no signal. She'd hoped a stray network emitter would be online, able to break through the interference that now engulfed the surrounding area.

Perhaps the storm has concealed your ancestor's sight.

A voice, not her own, whispered within her mind. It was soft and held a warmth like a flickering candle. She grimaced as her brow furrowed and a scowl stretched across her face. She'd lost concentration, allowing her emotions to create a gap within her chain circlet's defenses.

Reaching up, she adjusted the ornate circlet until it was nestled right up against the bottom of her slender horns. Once finished, she glared down at the garnet affixed to her chest plate. She watched the inner fire as it crawled and wriggled within the orb. Each movement causing the amber glow to pulsate like a pupa trapped within a cocoon. Or a restless spirit within a crypt, she mused, causing her scowl to falter.

She ignored the spirit as it continued to try speaking to her, its whispers slithering along their connection. She tactfully slammed down on the connection, hoping it got the hint. It rarely did.

She gazed back down at the omnivice. She flicked through several screens, quickly exhausting her options. If she'd just been given a normal omnivice, this wouldn't be a problem. Yet the ecclesiarchy and the technomancers insisted, even after a decade of devoted service to her master and his interests.

The disappointment tinged with anger made her neck muscles tense as she slammed her fist against the wall. It reverberated with a dull thud. Above, she heard an auto turret whir to life somewhere nearby. Regretting her outburst, she pressed herself against the wall.

You're a binder, for goddess’ sake. Act like it!

She waited until the thundering in her chest quieted. She sighed, took a deep breath, and then composed herself.

"Looks like I don't have a choice." She said as her head dropped.

Resigned, she reached into the pouch on her hip. Withdrawing her hand, she gazed at the orb now in her hand. The spirit within writhed in anticipation.

"Here goes nothing." She said, tossing the seeker up into the air.

The small drone bobbed up in down as if caught in some unseen current. This spirit she liked. It didn't ask questions or talk. It was a quiet thing. Living to serve. To Korsha it was a kindred spirit. It was a spirit who understood its reason for being.

Korsha jumped up and down, flinging her arms around to warm them up. Once she was sufficiently warmed up, she ordered her thoughts and focused. She fixed the image of the gate within her mind. That was supposed to be her insertion point. She reached up her hand, and the seeker dropped back down, hovering just above her open palm. She connected to the spirit and gave it precise instructions. As she finished, she lowered her hand, drawing the seeker with it. As she spoke, her misty breath washed over the orb.

“I give you purpose.”

The orb rose into the air and darted off to the left. Korsha jumped into the air, propelled into the air by her armor. The air rushed around her, her white braids flicking around her as she spun. Here goes nothing, she thought as her body came parallel with the wall. A heartbeat later, her boots landed with a hard thud against the wall with a dull reverberation.

First tether established.

Her eyes snapped to the seeker. She lunged forward. Gravity pressed against her side as she weakened the binding. Reaching out, she hooked a second tether to the orb. The sudden momentum yanked her off forward, nearly causing her to fall. Only years of training allowed her to achieve a rhythm quickly. Each step and subsequent push off was precise and timed to ensure she didn't fall. She'd done that enough.

Crashing was terrible, but crashing while running on a wall was doubly so. Yet she couldn't help but grin as a bitter cold twisted its fingers through her hair and horns. No one else in the academy had mastered the ability to create two tethers. This was her talent.

It was also the reason they didn't trust her. Not only was she infused with the essence of the Betrayer, but she'd been given a double blessing. The thought was like a leech, sapping what little enjoyment she'd gotten from being forced to use her power. So instead, she forced herself into her body. Feeling the slight curve of the wall as she drew ever closer to her goal.

The orb halted. The abrupt stop slammed against her as though she'd run into the water. She released her hold and jumped, bleeding off the last of the momentum. A flurry of ash and snow shot up around her as she hit the ground. She stood as fat flakes showered down around her. She'd reached the gate.

She eyed the thick metal links of the gate that glittered in the bloody glow of the emergency lights. She checked her omnivice. Drawing upon her powers had ensured she was still on schedule. I won't disappoint my master… again.

Korsha snatched the orb from the air and shoved it into her pouch. Marching to the gate, she raised her hand. The crest of her master's house appeared on the back of her hand. A deep rumbling preceded the gate's withdrawal. Bit by bit, she could see into the power plant's inner courtyard.

Her heart fell. It was empty. Devoid of life. She'd hoped the recon drones had been mistaken. Where were all the maintenance crews? There should have been at least a dozen individual crews making sure the region's reserves were being constantly replenished. As it was, she had only hours before darkness descended and only essential services would remain online.

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Here the snow was like small islands surrounded on all sides by featureless blacktop. The warmth radiating up from the ground melting those flakes that were unlucky.

Korsha marched across the barren courtyard, heading towards a squat, orange rectangular building. Her boots sloshed through puddles. She tried to ignore the six spires in the distance but found herself being drawn to them. Their dark forms rose like twisted horns, challenging the churning snowstorm overhead.

A brief wave of moonlight illuminated the courtyard, and she found herself frozen in place. The spire's blackened surface seemed to drink up the pale light, consuming it whole. Only the runes etched into the side of the structures glinted. Korsha's skin crawled at the sight of the arcane sigils.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her head thundered in her chest as her head snapped down to the ground before her. Six long shadows crawled across the ground, reaching for her like broken fingers stretching out to grab her.

A sickening suspicion settled in the pit of her stomach. She hated the small trembling in her hands as she tilted her head up. She fixed her gaze upon the moon. The world's only source of light. She closed her eyes, burning its image into her mind as she lowered her head. When she opened her eyes, clenched her teeth. The shadows should have been slanted off to the east, not facing towards the south where she was.

"Tor," she cursed, kicking at the ashy snow, "Why can't I just have back up for once?"

A torrent of wind blew once more, bringing with it an end to the light. Its unrelenting howl grabbed at her hood, trying to rip it free and expose her to its icy touch. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the buildings huddled around the base of the spires. They promised her warmth and protection from the elements. Even as the cold gnawed at her cheeks and nose, she continued to gaze around, unwilling to move. A growing suspicion gathered in the pit of her stomach.

She was being led into a trap.

Yet she couldn't linger. Every moment of indecision was a moment closer to people being without power. To children waking up as the winter's gnarled fingers gripped their fragile bodies, jolting them from a deep sleep.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she cursed her master's appraisal of her skill. This whole mess would be easily resolved if someone just watched over her body. Then she could interact with Keskigal and the spirit world. Doing so would let her see whatever force was behind this disaster. You did have someone... the accusation coiled around her like a noose.

In an instant, she wanted to do anything but be alone with those thoughts. Even springing a trap from a malevolent force lurking in the shadows. Korsha trudged across the courtyard. She grabbed the handle to the door and yanked it open. Part of her had expected something to be there, ready to ambush her and drag her inside, but there was nothing.

She sucked in a deep breath and gazed into the storm. Somewhere between their shimmering brilliance, the ancestors watched.

“Say a prayer for me.” She said and then entered the building.

The door slammed shut behind her, the final nail in her coffin. Gazing around the room, Korsha caught snap shots of the room as a large monitor on the far wall flickered on and off. It looked as though a bomb had gone off, tearing the wall panels and furniture alike.

She inched forward, glass crunching beneath her boots. She maneuvered between fallen chairs, careful to avoid the large ceramic pieces that were scattered about. They'd come from a long vase like container. Its lower half still clung to the lifeless, trampled body of the shrub that it had once housed. Soil spilled out beneath it like a pool of blood. From the few branches that stuck out, Korsha knew it was one of those fancy manicured shrubs, the kind important people had, trying to show off unique shapes to show that they, too, were more than the power they wielded. She bit back the fear welling up within her, choosing instead to fuel her anger.

“There is no purpose in this.”

Her voice crashed through the solemn silence like a tidal wave and then quickly subsiding as an unnatural hush descended upon the room. The suffocating stillness reclaimed its power, leaving nothing but a heavy, oppressive air as it settled back upon its throne.

With careful calculated steps, Korsha padded across the room to the monitor. She established a link between it and her omnivice. After trying several commands, she forced it into a hard reboot. The screen flickered off, casting her into darkness save for the pathetically dull glow of her omnivice. A sharp pang of anxiety beat within her chest as she remembered the spires' shadows. She crossed her arms, pressing them against her chest plate. Her nails dug into her biceps.

The silence buzzed and hummed, growing in intensity until it was deafening. It accosted her like a swarm of insects. Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to take measured, even breaths. She'd been trained for this. Yet she couldn't stop the feeling of being exposed. Helpless. A lamb led to the slaughter. She shook her head. She was useful. Her master wouldn't expend her in such a manner. That truth helped to dull the throbbing edges of her dread.

The monitor flashed. Its light exploded, piercing the darkness and pushing it back. It enveloped her like a shield. She stepped forward, fingers now gliding across the keys as she searched for answers. Her eyes fixed upon a single flashing word writing in red font.

Breach.

Further investigation yielded that it had come from spire three. What had been imprisoned in that spire? The system had no answers for her. The rest of the network was still inactive. She'd need to venture further in and find the plant's acrena.

The monitor beeped, pulling her attention back to its pale glow. Her final search query had yielded a result. She licked her lips, her throat now dry as she reached forward and tapped a key on the desk. There was static as the screen changed and then resettled upon the room she was in. It hadn't been destroyed, not yet at least.

She saw the vase with the shrub. Its oddly square shape was unimpressive. She turned her attention to the two men standing in the room. Their full body suits told her they were most likely techs. One was sitting, making idle gestures at his companion, who was standing, drinking from a cup. An alarm went off. Its piercing shriek causing the workers to jump. A third man rushed into view, arms flailing in panic. Korsha was willing to wager that the person wearing the long-tailed uniform was the onsite manager.

“Damage report!”

“Spire...” the worker at the desk hesitated, then pointed, “Spire three.”

“Which spirit is that?” The now cupless worker asked.

“Lock everything down. Everyone is to evacuate.”

“Is this really necessary?”

The manager turned to him, “Are you an idiot! What kind of spirits do you think we have locked up in there?”

“Big ones?”

Korsha shook her head at the answer. Size didn't matter to spirits. The manager never got to answer because the lights went out. Metal screeched and there was the shrill cry of breaking glass. Metal clanged as one of the workers called out to the goddess for protection. Emergency lights came on. Something flashed on the screen. Korsha's hand shot out, slamming on the pause button. She rewound until she reached the frame.

The world was illuminated in a hellish light. Long arms stretched out, reaching for the men like hungry snakes. They were innumerable. Jutting out from a central jagged shadow that seemed to be in the process of tearing itself apart at its core. The shrub law on the ground, decimated beneath an immense gnarled hand looming overhead.

Ice filled Korsha's veins as her eyes widened, taking in the horrifying sight against her will. Something like this... it... it would... to manifest... She blinked. Her thoughts racing and at the same time, she was empty. Hollow.

On autopilot she resumed the feed, though this time on half speed. The emergency lights disappeared. Then reappeared. The shadow was gone. Only one of the men had reacted.

One of the worker's body arced forward. He stumbled, trying to keep himself upright. A primal scream tore through the air. It was choked. Cut off as the man's body was yanked away. The worker's body flew to the wall. Korsha winced, anticipating the crunch that never came. Instead, the man's body slipped into the darkness as though diving into a dark ocean.

The lights flickered. This time, their return was lethargic and dim as though the light was being choked by the darkness. Another scream. Whispers erupted from the walls and ceiling, from beneath the ruined shrub and toppled chairs. It hissed out from every piece of broken glass. The whimpers of the two remaining men drowned out whatever madness was being spread through the air.

The sound of a million skittering claws scraping across the floor filled the room. They exploded as whatever was making the noise was rushing towards the camera. Someone screamed out to the goddess in desperation. The feed cut out and Korsha's entire body seized up. She was panting now. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for the terrifying thing her imagination told her had come through the screen and was now hiding somewhere right next to her.

She was still as the oppressive hush blanketed her within this benighted realm, a peasant in a court of shadows.

Korsha trembled in this same murky depths that had entombed those three men. She stood in the same place those men had taken their last breath. No. She couldn't be sure of that. For all she knew they had been taken into the spirit world to be play things for the rest of their lives, trapped forever in a reflection of the moment they were stolen away.

That was a fate worse than death.

That horror echoed through her mind like an unrelenting storm, causing every muscle to tense. What if that happened to her? What if she was pulled into the shadows, never to pull her head free of their inky depths? Never to take another breath of fresh air.

She couldn't do this.

But she also couldn't fail.

Duty and fear wrestled within her. She hadn't been prepared for this. No amount of training could've prepared her for this. Yet she couldn't leave. She had to restore power. The people needed her. Her master needed her.

The only thing left was for her to find the base's acrena stored within the heart of the facility. It wasn't a long walk, but with a spirit that could snatch people into shadows, it might as well have been a trip all the way back to the capital.

Once she reached the acrena, she could access the plant's database. It would have a profile of the spirit.

She needed to get to the acrena. Without information, she was defenseless. Like a fly into a spider's web. But how else was the fly to catch the spider?