“Are you ready, Mr. Roth?” Professor Jules asked.

Alex was now seated in a comfortable chair in the middle of the lab, his feet firmly planted on the floor. He held the dungeon core between his hands as though he was trying to crush it.

Isolde was nearby, watching the General of Thameland. One gloved hand tightly gripping her other one.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” came his reply.

“If anything goes wrong, please remember, you must stop immediately, Mr. Roth,” Professor Jules said. “We will be right here.”

“I got it,” Alex said, looking down at the dungeon core. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

With a deep breath, he poured his mana into the core.

He’d done this many times, controlling other cores in the past, but this time, he wanted to go deeper.

“Where are you?” he whispered, looking for images.

If he found them once, he was sure he could find them again: the Mark of General was already using his past failures and successes to guide him.

The dungeon core fought him, as it always did, but it might as well have been a blade of grass trying to hold back the ocean. Alex’s mana and skill had grown to a greater level, far stronger than they’d ever been. The orb stood no chance.

His power quickly overwhelmed it, bringing it to heel, then he relaxed, taking his time, finding the different activation points inside the core. Each time he made a connection, he let the Mark guide him in going further.

He searched.

Going deeper.

Uncovering areas of this core he hadn’t noticed when he’d controlled other ones. He would explore those areas more thoroughly later, but for now, he had something specific to do.

Going deeper, he found new pathways, uncovered more details about the black orb and its inner workings. Suddenly the orb began fighting, panicking, wanting to get free of Alex. “There's something in here…” he whispered. “…something…” He paused.

“Is something wrong?” Professor Jules said.

“It’s blocking me,” Alex said. “There are these activation points deep inside that I was trying to get at…but I can't reach them. It's like…the mana pathways leading to them have been severed.”

“What do you think that means?” Professor Jules asked.

Alex frowned. “Remember we said that the Hunters didn’t appear in the Thameish bestiaries?”

“Yes,” Isolde said.

“Yet, they appeared during this cycle,” he said. “After I controlled a dungeon core, a petrifier showed up. I'm wondering if…”

“…the dungeon cores have capabilities they can’t access without specific authorisation or instruction from their master,” Isolde finished. “Uldar did say that the cycles before the Fool were far more dangerous.”

“Yeah. That makes me wonder how many people died back then,” Alex said. “We didn’t always send our people to the Rhinean Empire during a cycle, you know? People stayed right here in Thameland, fighting and dying alongside the army. It was only after King Reginaldus signed a pact with the Rhinean Empire that you all started hosting our people when the Ravener would come back. That must have been long after Uldar had culled everyone and created the Fool.”

He shuddered, remembering horrifying history lessons he’d had in the church school, about certain brave Thameish people who’d fought Ravener-spawn. He now understood that the cycles he’d learned about had been only a part of Thameland’s history and that information had been by Uldar’s design; the General was long forgotten by then and the Fool had long been in place. He couldn’t imagine what things were like when the General had still been among the Heroes.

“I remember learning that Emperor Gohenhart ruled the Empire when that treaty was signed,” Isolde said. “We learned that in our history lessons when I was small. Even before the pact was signed, people travelling far distances from place to place by ship was not common, especially in the open ocean, connections between realms were more difficult.”

“Mhm, and there wouldn’t have been many—or any—Thameish people abroad back then,” Alex said. “And, like I said, Uldar talked about how the cycles were a lot more deadly before he changed the General’s Mark, and how—after he made the Fool—the Heroes weren’t as powerful anymore. —those cycles before the Fool were supposed to be really deadly—maybe we haven't seen the Ravener’s nastiest monsters yet.”

“I wonder if we could turn them, turn its most powerful monsters against it?” Professor Jules smiled. “Using the dungeon cores?”

Alex shook his head. “No. If the pathways were only blocked, maybe, then I could force my way through…but they’ve been completely severed. We’d need to put something into the core to bridge the pathways, and that's not something we can do today, if we could even do it at all.”

“Understood,” Professor Jules said. “Is that all then?”

“No…” Alex paused. “There are pathways down in the deepest parts…and…” He frowned. “…I think they connect to something…something outside the dungeon core.” His excitement grew. “I'm gonna see if I can—”

He touched an activation point deep within the core.

The world around him abruptly fell away.

For an instant, he thought he’d died: as blackness surrounded him.

Images flashed into being.

Images from battlefield after battlefield over millennia. Images of dozens of groups of young people—each Marked with one of Uldar’s Marks—battling Ravener-spawn through frozen forests, steaming swamps, and rain-wracked hills.

Then there were the dungeons.

Hundreds, thousands of dungeons.

Some were in old ruins, others in caves, others underwater, lurking at the bottom of lakes and rivers. Each contained a dungeon core, spawning monsters, sending them against Uldar’s people. Alex saw soldiers fighting through terror yet facing endless, slavering hordes.

Alex felt their terror—it was in every screaming face throughout the ages—as people fled and died to the Ravener’s armies. That terror raged, pouring into dungeon cores to be funnelled back to their master.

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Humans must fear.

That’s what the Hive-Queen had said to Alex, Selina, Theresa and Brutus in the Cave of the Traveller. He used to think that she was only trying to stoke their fear to power her dungeon core.

He realised he’d only been half-right.

Alex watched as thousands of soldiers were overwhelmed by monsters; scores, hundreds, thousands of chitterers attacked them, then suddenly, he heard Professor Jules’ voice calling to him.

It was distant.

“Mr. Roth…yo…al…ight?” her voice asked.

“I’m alright,” Alex called back, focusing through the storm of images to answer her. “They’re a network..like a hive. The Ravener and the dungeon cores are linked: dungeon cores absorb fear and use some to power themselves, then channel the rest to their master.”

“Can…follow…trail?” Isolde asked. “Can you…use…find…Ravener?”

“I don't know…” Alex said. “I'm not sure I can. There's so much memory in here to sift through…like if bits of every cycle is stored in the dungeon cores. Most of what I’m seeing is from old battlefields…but…”

He dug deeper. “There's something else here too.”

“Some…thing…?” Professor Jules’ voice reached him.

“Yes,” Alex said. “Something deep. Something—”

He shifted his mana in the dungeon core.

The images melted away.

He gasped.

If he thought he knew horror before, he was wrong.

Utterly wrong.

What he was seeing now was a Thameland on fire, all flame, bodies and blood. The skies were unrecognisable, filled with fire just as Cretalikon had been. The earth was choked with bodies. The rivers ran red.

And Ravener-spawn poured across the land.

The monsters he was seeing were neither chitterers, blood-draks nor bonechargers.

They were something else.

Humanoid titans of bone, steel and flesh; their footfalls ground stone to dust and made the earth tremble. The tallest trees only reached their spiked kneecaps, and their bulging eyes seemed to hold every horror ever conceived. Their mouths were yawning caverns, spraying rivers of acid.

Through the skies, orbs of flesh soared—each borne by four wings jetting streams of flame behind them—gibbering maddening songs. Their flesh rippled, unleashing great stone spikes that rained down upon the earth. Spikes struck the ground, burrowing through to explode in bursts of fire and gas.

A carpet of gigantic shelled spawn crawled along the ground—part spider, scorpion and part beetle—each no smaller than the Roth Family Bakery. They shot blasts of air from dozens of holes in their shells, piercing stone, metal, bone and flesh.

High on their backs, sat humanoids covered in grey-black chitin. Spider-like legs protruded from their backs, allowing them to spring to the ground, then move across it with dizzying speed and agility. Their clawed hands wielded weapons the colour of their chitin, and each weapon-strike split wooden shields and crumpled armour like parchment.

Hunters roamed freely: tens of thousands prowled through the wilderness ahead of the horde; scouting, stalking, infiltrating.

Bringing up the rear were a staggering number of petrifiers, guarding the hordes’ flanks, killing anyone in their path.

Ravener-spawn commanders were among the hordes: Hive-queens, behemoths, blood-hydras, gibbering legions and more…

…but in this army, they played the role of foot soldiers, not commanders.

There was also a deluge of common Ravener-spawn: creatures such as chitterers, blood-draks, bonechargers and silence spiders, following behind the army of other monsters, picking off human survivors. In this powerful army, they were merely chaff.

Predators that left none alive.

And Alex knew what he was witnessing.

“A culling…” he whispered. “…this was when Uldar killed everyone.”

‘This is what could happen again,’ the archwizard thought.

He imagined this abomination—this army of slaughter—roaming through Thameland, killing everyone he knew. Destroying everything, every home, every person. He pictured Alric being turned to cinders.

‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ he thought.

He was about to break away from the image, but something kept him engaged.

In this scene of horror, the destruction seemed endless. All-encompassing. Yet, it actually wasn’t, when he looked closer. The Ravener-spawn were bringing an endless wave of carnage to the land, but they seemed to only be targeting mortals. Burning forests and destroyed landscapes were casualties, accidents, rather than targets being destroyed intentionally.

He focused on the images, noticing how Ravener-spawn ignored panicking animals and beasts of the wilderness, leaving them completely unbothered as they passed them.

He saw something following behind the army of destroyers.

First, a thick mist came—like fog hanging above the earth on a spring morning—following behind the horde. Everything the mist touched was…cleansed. Acid evaporated. Fire was snuffed out. Corpses disintegrated, liquefying, like dew. When the mist had moved by, only the scars of the decimation remained: signs of scorching from the fires.

Creatures Alex had never seen before followed the mist.

They appeared to be massive earthworms—loam coloured, colossal in size—creeping along, the tail-end of the army. As they moved, they expelled fresh earth behind them, their bodies wriggling through soil and stirring it into the landscape. Before Alex’s eyes, saplings and sprouts sprang from the soil, seeding the land with new life even as the army in front devastated the old.

‘New soil and new life left behind…Ravener-spawn to mend what the others destroy…so that the mortals who weren’t culled could rebuild,’ Alex thought. ‘Would it be the same this time? Or would the Ravener kill everything that moved, breathed, or simply existed?’

He shuddered at the thought.

A chill went down his spine, but he moved on.

‘At least I have some idea of what we could be facing,’ Alex said, diving deeper. ‘Now, where’s that connection…’

He went deeper into the dungeon core, looking for pathways that might be used to channel fear into power. ‘One of them must lead back to its master…if only I could follow it.’

Alex probed.

He saw it then.

The Ravener, floating above a mountain, like a blackened moon from an eclipse. For an instant, he thought he’d found where it was hiding…until he saw Heroes, charging up the mountain toward the construct. He recognised none of them.

‘This image must be from another cycle,’ Alex said.

He kept looking.

More images of the Ravener.

Most were from a cave, the dark orb was surrounded by its Ravener-spawn. In some, it hovered deep in the ruins of a lost city. In others, it was in a lair deep within a forest.

He frowned.

‘Old information,’ Alex thought. ‘We’ve checked some of these places before. Maybe—’

He froze.

Suddenly the images stopped.

No, not stopped…

Were replaced.

Now, floating before him—surrounded by darkness—was the Ravener.

Not in an image from the past.

Not some lost memory.

The Ravener.

Alex had searched deep down inside the dungeon core and touched something unexpected. A connection had formed, as it had when he’d touched the core in the Cave of the Traveller.

He could see Uldar’s creation.

Just as it could see him.

They had an awareness of each other, but little else. Alex went deeper, looking for its location, but found nothing except its murky image.

There was one thing that was very clear, though.

The Ravener detested Alex. Or…no, not Alex…the Mark of the General on his shoulder. Waves of confusion, rage, and violent emotions flowed from it toward his new Mark. Alex thought of the endless horrors he'd seen in the dungeon core.

And disgust for the Ravener was reciprocated.

There was no need for words between them, even if they could communicate.

Still, the Ravener let its wrath be known.

Suddenly, mana began gushing through the link between it and the dungeon core. The orb in Alex’s hands quaked, thrumming with power, cracks ran through its surface.

“...lex!” Professor Jules’ voice was faint, her words broken. “Light…from…core!”

It was going to explode.

The young archwizard quickly poured the Traveller’s power into the core.

It shuddered in his hands, then—with a silent scream—crumbled to dust.

When Alex opened his eyes, he was covered in dust, and a cold sweat. Professor Jules, and Isolde were in front of him, shaking him and calling his name, their eyes filled with worry.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Professor Jules said. “You were shaking like a leaf and the dungeon core began cracking.”

“I thought it was going to explode, what happened?” Isolde asked.

“The Ravener saw me,” Alex said. “It doesn't know where I am, and I don't know where it is, but it can recognise me now. It wasn’t looking at me like it wanted to be friends either. I have an idea what its next move is going to be. I think it’s going to slaughter—”

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door.

A speakerbox nearby crackled. “Professor! Professor, can you hear me?”

It was Watcher Hill.

“Yes!” Jules called. “What is it?”

“I have something to tell you, something quite unusual,” Watcher Hill said. “We’ve been getting strange reports.”

Alex stiffened. “This is it. It’s going to slaughter—”

Jules opened the door.

“A group of soldiers outside Luthering reported that Ravener-spawn helped them, they literally saved their lives!” The Watcher sounded incredulous. “Apparently, there’ve been reports of Ravener-spawn helping priests, soldiers, healers all across Thameland!”

The General was at a loss for words. “...what?”