Rebecca lightly touched down on a rooftop. She’d been invisibly jumping between them for a while, but she’d seen something that forced her to stop.

In the middle of the town square, a group of Scales had set up a gallows. Eight of them were currently in the process of stringing up someone Rebecca knew well.

She grabbed a knife, aiming for an eye on one of the soldiers, stringing Jake’s body up. It would be an underhand throw aimed at beneath the Scale’s chin. It would hurt, and the poison would cripple them and ensure a slow, painful death.

She stopped herself. She couldn’t risk this. Could she kill everyone here? Probably. No one of high enough level to be a real threat. But then they’d know where she was. And she had another mission. Getting revenge for Jake would have to wait.

She swallowed her anger, even as one of the eight hung a sign around Jake’s neck. Coward, it pronounced.

She leaped up at a house wall, using morph to adjust the composition of her skin. A gloveless hand reached out for the wall and touched it. She hung there, the formed adhesive in her skin holding her up as she considered the next place to jump.

She’d make noise, but not much. More importantly, hanging here, she could see inside. Back from the window, waiting a few feet deeper into the house, three Scales waited. On the floor between them was a small wheeled gun. A short stubby barrel faced the window. AT gun or infantry gun, it didn’t matter.

Pulling herself up with her hand, she placed her feet against the wall. She used Morph to remove the adhesive in her skin and pushed, propelling herself into the air.

It made a bit of noise. Rebecca wasn’t hanging around to see if they noticed, leaping for the house across the way.

Four scales, hidden in this house, two teams of two operating a machine gun, each aimed at where they’d strung up Jake’s body. It was a trap. The area had been seeded with Scales armed with a variety of weapons.

Too low a level to be a threat. That thought seemed foolish just a minute after having it. Rebecca still hasn’t seen a weapon capable of injuring her, but that’s probably what Jake had thought. Scales were tricky and brutal, and she should never underestimate them.

The others tended to treat them like pests, and the Scales, for the most part, were. But when your build depended on stealth more than anything else to avoid being hurt, pests could bite.

She didn’t leap again. Instead, she quietly waited for one of the Scale vehicles to trundle through, the crew cursing and screaming as the guns mounted on the back fired up into the sky.

No guessing who they were firing at as lightning streaked down from the stormcloud-filled sky with a crackle and roar of thunder.

Rebecca dropped, trusting in the sound of the vehicle getting destroyed to cover up the noise of her dropping.

Lightning streaked in and immediately went to the side, turning mid-air from its target. She watched in disbelief as it instead struck a metal pole. A long metal stake emerged from the roof of the house she had just leaped from. The lightning hit, and then nothing. It was gone.

You have got to be kidding me. A lightning rod?

The firing of the AA guns made enough noise that no one in the square seemed to notice her landing on the cobblestones.

Those couldn’t be regular lightning rods. It would be inconceivable that a few thin metal strips could take care of Lisa's bolts. She stared at the rod as it shook. It was difficult, but she could see marks on them. Runes?

Rebecca considered taking care of them but, after a second, decided not to. There could be dozens of these scattered among the houses. She couldn’t take them all down.

The anti-aircraft vehicle roared, beginning to move suddenly, some of the crew leaping out. Rebecca didn’t understand why till she looked up.

A boulder the size of a cow hurtled through the air on a perfect trajectory, flying over the rooftops before dipping down and smashing into the side of the vehicles. Metal crumpled under the blow, the vehicle tipping to its side and spilling the rest of the crew out.

Most of them lay still. Some tried to move limbs bent at extreme angles, screaming. Other Scales were moving from the gallows, trying to drag their comrades under as a second boulder began to fly in. Well, it looked like Lisa didn’t need her help with this anyway.

With that out of the way, the more critical task. Where were the people from the town? She doubted the Scales had let them go. Even as isolated as Halice was, there were places a day or two’s walk away they could go to provide a warning.

They could be dead, but could they risk that? They could be alive, being held hostage, or maybe just hiding. Strange that their lives hadn’t been threatened then. But that was a question for later.

She had a hunch where everyone was. Where Scales were, there would inevitably be tunnels stretching underground. Even if they’d only been here a few days, they could dig out a network that would have taken weeks back on Earth.

There were probably entrances outside the town for vehicles and heavier equipment, where it would be easier to hide tunnels of that size. But there should be entrances in the Halice itself, and she bet they’d be in a building with an existing basement.

There it was. Rebecca waited until the group of Scales had finished filing out of the house before leaping towards it. A thin knife slowly cut through glass, and then she was in through an upstairs window.

Scales occupied the house, but she quickly crawled on the ceilings above the Scale’s heads, trying her best to time her movements with the Scales beneath her. Eventually, she dropped down into the cellar.

This might have been a smaller cellar once. Now, excavated earth and stone had carved out a chamber easily forty feet across, extending level for a bit before dropping into a slope, heading into the earth's bowels.

Another group of Scales occupied the area, most also heading to the cellar’s exit. How many Scales had come here? A battalion might have been low-balling the number of enemies occupying Halice.

Her shroud was proof against most senses: sight, smell, hearing. Touch was another story altogether, which made these tight-winding tunnels dangerous.

Experience told her they’d open up soon enough. She hadn’t seen any digging equipment, but if the Scales had been here any length, the entire underside of the town might already have been excavated.

Extensive tunnel networks were the norm with Scales. If it hadn’t been for encountering a few actual dwarves, she’d believe the Scales were the closest thing this world had.

But if the townspeople were anywhere, it would be down here. And if they were, Lisa could let loose on the surface.

She’s seen Lisa obliterate groups much larger than this repeatedly. The only reason she hadn’t blown everything in this town away would be fear of what might happen to the townspeople.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The battle would be over if Rebecca could find them; better yet, free them.

She felt vibrations underneath her feet and immediately leaped to the ceiling, adjusting her body’s skin to grasp it. Further ahead, Scales rounded the corner, a squad patrolling down the tunnel.

She rotated her head, watching the group as they passed underneath. Having so many different methods of moving around was useful, even if it meant not going as deep into the various talent trees.

Not quite flight, although she’d looked into it. Another tree to branch into, when she’d already gone into so many. Even with the faster XP gain and the Aethereans practically feeding them XP with the Dungeons, so much had been spent dabbling from one tree to another instead of diving deep down.

She still felt she’d made the right choice, choosing breadth over depth. Others might get more out of their talents and spend less per, but they didn’t have the sheer number of different talents and subsystems to choose from.

She dropped back down to the ground and continued along. It's time to find the deepest point and work her way up from there.

***

Marva walked along the tunnels she’d made not a week ago, feeling the slight roughness of the stone on her feet.

The earth felt the presence of those treading along it everywhere. Occasionally, the feeling of something heavier being wheeled over it, pulled by hand or motor. What little emotion it had was focused on not caring.

The earth didn’t care about such little impacts. Earlier it had been screeching in agony when they had drilled through it, while she and her students did their best to calm it and soothe it. A sacrifice had been made to assuage its spirit, but that could only do so much.

Marva wished they had the time to sing the earth open, but time had been of the essence. It would heal in time. Scaveria would not.

Still, when the drills had started, the earth had roared so loudly that even those without the gift had noticed when the ground had jolted with that scream of agony.

In comparison, now it was merely irritated. Something Marva could relate to as the implant on the back of her neck thrummed.

An artifact they’d bartered for from fickle allies had been driven into her neck, near where it met her shoulders. The thing vibrated, occasionally grew hot, and felt like someone had put a rock in between her vertebrae.

It masked Marva from Systemsight though, making all this discomfort worth it.

Every mage had one put in to keep them hidden from the Blade’s sight. It was another surprise for them, even if only a handful of low-level and one medium-level mage were hidden.

The thing heated again, and she focused inwardly on her magic as the heat in her spine increased.

Steps. Steps in a tunnel where there shouldn’t be steps. Marva could feel them like they were atop her own back.

That tunnel led right to the infirmary. Marva had sealed it off only five minutes ago when the latest group of wounded were being rushed down for emergency surgery.

But now, fresh footsteps were hitting the stone in that tunnel. A Traveler had found their way down.

“Phone, now,” she intoned, her words slow and heavy. She pulled herself out of her trance, slowly disentangling her mind from that of the stone.

She needed to warn Mal that the Blade was headed his way. Her mind remained focused on that one tunnel as she disengaged from the rest of the network. Click, click, click.

It had to be the Blade in that tunnel. No one could have gone in with the wounded and been unnoticed. Or passed through the earth without trace. If the reports on her abilities were accurate, she could turn intangible for moments at a time.

It consumed large amounts of mana as most talents of that nature did, but with a large enough mana pool, the Blade could travel anywhere.

The Blade was heading deeper down. Why? Just scouting? No other steps on their own at this time, except a set far down below. But she knew those boots. Mal’s tread was well known to her.

They needed to alert him. The phone she’d asked for was here now. Lifting it up, she said into it “Connect me to the lower storage levels.”

Two seconds passed. The Blade’s steps vanished. “You should be connected now, Lieutenant.”

She heard nothing but static. “Lower storage?” No response.

Her mind reached out, felt along the tunnel's walls, traveling the path of the wire along it, right to where someone had cut through it. The Blade had done her best to delay any detection. Radios would be harder to work underground.

“Try to get in contact with Captain Syvoski. The rest of you, with me. We go hunting.”

***

Deep in the earth, Captain Mal Syvoski took another pull from his bottle of stolen liquor, relishing in the burn as it traveled down his throat.

He was wandering the tunnels alone. He didn’t have enough troops under his command to have guards. Nor did he want any. The solitude was more appealing. And this far down was the safest one could be right now.

He knew why the Major had put him down here. There was nothing for him to mess up. He shouldn’t have left the drinks out. It’d been intended as a joke, a last prank on an officer neither had been fond of.

Instead, ever since, Jaervin had been trailing him as best the other captain could until now. He didn’t know what was more insulting, the Major assigning a nursemaid to him or what Jaervin considered trailing sneakily. The man was an artillery officer through and through, which included no idea of how to tread lightly with his almost seven foot, four hundred pound frame.

Forcing him to hide in a cabinet had been the only bright spot. Especially when he’d ordered the cabinet moved down a staircase. To the confusion of everyone but the man who’d had to endure the consequences. It had been fated. Why else would the Aetherean family who lived there own an eight-foot-tall cabinet with no shelves?

Well, he might have sawed the shelves out the night before.

He’d already left by the time Jaervin had exploded out of the piece of furniture. If reports were true, as it was falling down the second flight.

That’s when he’d gotten the orders to report down here. He couldn’t even blame the Major for it. Sure, scaly skin was essentially immunity to damage from such a short fall for his fellow captain, but still. Couldn’t have this foolishness in the war zone, at least now, in the Major’s eyes.

Fatalism had eaten at his commander and friend. And by all rights, he should have confronted the other Scale about it, bring Graeceling, others. But he was tired. Too tired to do it anymore. Setting up that little incident with Jaerven had sucked most of the vitality he’d been storing right out of him.

He’d been waiting for a good time to tell them. It never came up. Rarely would there be a good time to tell someone you were dying usually. In the middle of an operation, where most expected to die in anyway? Never.

Besides, they’d just feel sorry or worried. Or, in the Major’s case, responsible, which, in Mal’s opinion, was unfair. Him dying was his own damn fault. He’d tried using chemical weapons to stall the Lancer and Juggernaut’s advance. He’d been the one to have them blow back on him. Coughing up blood slowly once they’d gotten here had been the first sign. Now, alcohol mixed with the most potent medications he could steal was all that was keeping him upright. Trying not to cough, so no blood came up.

By all rights, he should be dead with the others who’d inhaled that lethal brew of chemicals. They deserved it less than him. Then again, maybe his slow death was him getting it worse than them.

Graceling knew. Or at least he’d felt the tingle of Sight on his System more than once, and she’d been advocating for him to be sent back whenever he was out of earshot. She wouldn’t say it directly. She probably didn’t feel it was her right. Which meant she’d accomplished nothing.

He hoped the pain was talking through him with those thoughts. The pain and being stuck underground.

It was a cruel sense of irony to put him and the few squads he’d been assigned down here. Mostly, the injured dwelled here for now, those who’d survived the fighting with the Juggernaut. Barebones staff for the traps in case any Traveler ends up down here. Most of the underground forces were in the surface and collapsible tunnels, and they would be more likely to encounter them before he did.

The Blade was the only stealthy one of this group, and the chances of her being down this fast was…well even if she was down here, they wouldn’t be able to tell. Her current position, at least.

He paused at a tunnel mouth, staring up at the carved-through passageway heading to the surface. He took some steps up it, looking at the marking along one of the support beams. A few scratches, a rough pentagon scratched out with an arrow pointing up. Not to be traveled down under any circumstances. An alarm tunnel.

They’d found out relatively early in the war that stuffing dummy tunnels full of traps tended not to work. Travelers just excelled at avoiding them or not suffering permanent damage from them. Even if a tunnel collapses, Travelers typically survive without a scratch. Secret alarms tended to be even worse in the system. You’d be notified when you triggered something, broke something, or even dealt damage to a gossamer piece of string.

They’d resorted to a different kind of alarm.

Mal looked down at the stones ahead of him. Cut, smoothed rock, paving stones instead of a smooth floor. They had a small amount of give to them. Enough to tilt in the direction of whoever had traveled down the pathway last.

These were tilted down. The Blade had made her way down here.