Zark'thul sat in his office, his attention fixed on the semi-transparent screens before him. He leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin as he watched the feeds, watching the makeshift squad attempt their first task without his oversight. The five of them marched through the thick, soggy swamp biome he'd gotten so used to.
Three led them, her form highlighted in the display, her posture rigid. Even through the virtual screens, it was evident the stress this was putting on her. If the goblins didn't show the proper respect, it was likely she would be the one to snap first. Perhaps that was for the better—it would teach both sides, after all. And there was more to see.
"Squad, keep formation. Maintain distance," she called out, her tone as steady as she could manage. She'd heard those instructions enough from him that they were practically committed to memory now.
"Formation? Yeah, sure," Skitters muttered, the camouflaged goblin tagging close by Three's side, his crossbow held casually on his shoulder. The disrespect in his voice was unmistakable.
Nearby, Filu stalked like a shadow, her face grim. Vraza and Rakk tailed alongside her, cleavers in hand. While Vraza looked intent on the path ahead, her brother seemed more preoccupied with sniffing the air and poking around. Vraza jabbed him with an elbow. "Focus, you."
While Rakk made no verbal reply, he at least followed suit in his twin's more serious attitude.
"Real original name, by the way. 'Three'?" Skitters prodded. A laugh accompanied his remark. "What, did the rest get numbers too? Or are you just that special?"
Three's jaw tightened, but her focus stayed on their path ahead. "Our CEO gave them to us," she stated simply. "There's no other meaning behind it."
"Hah! Name's nothing special to this boss then. Thinks of his people like objects to use," Skitters retorted, the smirk never leaving his face. "No more special than a sword. Or a shield. Just as expendable."
Three said nothing in return, but her expression tensed further.
From his watchful position in the command room, Zark'thul observed Three's effort to maintain a facade of cool professionalism. But the subtle clench of her fists revealed the emotions she kept at bay.
Good. If she wanted to be a leader, she needed to deal with their banter sooner or later.
Elspeth leaned back against a wall, her form casting a shadow on the panels behind him. She gazed over his shoulder.
He felt her judging stare. "Something on your mind, Elspeth?"
Without a change in her expression, she remarked, "Your squad's cohesion leaves much to be desired."
"That is for them to resolve, not me," Zark'thul snapped in return. He wasn't entirely certain he'd gotten her sarcasm. To her credit, she made no other reply, nor did she elaborate on her previous judgment. Only watched. He could almost imagine the notes she was writing down in her mind while doing so.
Let her think what she liked. They weren't out here to make friends. They were there to slaughter and pave the path forward.
He continued to monitor them closely, switching between their perspectives. Rakk and Vraza veered off course to investigate something moving in the shadows. He frowned at them—where were they going? Had Three spotted that?
As his thumb tapped on her point of view, he discovered that she had.
Forcing a stern, tetchy tone, she shouted, "No, don't go off on your own! Not now."
"Yeah, yeah," Rakk responded with a roll of his eyes. "I smell treasure!"
"Going after it!" Vraza declared.
Zark'thul tapped on the berserker's perspective and followed as the two raced away from the group, darting through the swamps. They were surprisingly nimble on their legs. Their enthusiasm wasn't out of place either; the glint of treasure in the distance caught his eye.
While Three's complaints could still be heard, the two goblins crested over a rise. An untouched pile of gear lay waiting for them: a chestplate, a dagger, and a few leather garments, with small articles of miscellaneous equipment littered around the mound.
Zark'thul looked over at Elspeth. "Are they able to bring gear back, regardless of the mission rewards?"
She nodded. "Yes. That is permitted, so long as the directive is successfully completed."
He hummed in approval, then returned his attention to the screens. As Rakk and Vraza looted what they could find, Three and the others caught up to them. Skitters sidled up next to the berserkers as they picked through the loot, stuffing things into their packs.
"Alright. Can we continue now, then?" Three asked. She sounded tense still, despite the find. Rakk and Vraza stayed quiet, grinning among themselves.
They continued moving in the same formation as before, albeit this time with more effort to stay close to each other. Perhaps because of that haul? Zark'thul didn't care the reasons—only the results. So long as they listened to her and took their duties seriously, they could keep whatever they scavenged along the way. That seemed a fine incentive, surely.
The squad combed the swampland, following a natural trail. Filu sniffed the air and pressed closer to Three, whispering something in her ear. The REDLINEs sniper nodded, gesturing to a copse of tall, moss-covered trees just ahead.
On the other side of the trees and half-submerged boulders, the creature stirred. The Murk Beast—hulking, grotesque, a patchwork of slick scales and leathery skin, its eyes rolling sluggishly in their sockets. Its bulky frame moved laboriously, claws carving deep grooves in the sodden ground.
The sight was familiar to Zark'thul, but seeing it through Three's perspective—and Elspeth's commentary—shed light on the differences between her and himself.
"I can't see where to engage well enough to aim properly. No good line of sight. Too many trees." Three shook her head. "Can we get around?"
"No way forward in stealth," Skitters piped up, glancing at their surroundings. "If we're going to kill it, have to just fight it on its terms. Smash and grab."
Filu hesitated, then made an emphatic gesture with her hands. "Flanking."
"Right. Yes. We can do that," Three responded, nodding. She flicked her gaze towards the berserker goblins. "Think you guys can take its attention on your own?"
"Pssh, only take its attention, huh?" Vraza sneered. "Yeah. Shouldn't be a problem."
Rakk echoed her disdainful sentiment, cracking his knuckles. "Come, sis. We got this handled. Big monster's gonna go down hard, right? Hehe."
Three scanned their surroundings once again before instructing the others. "Ok, let's not rush it. There's a spot where the beast has to wade across deeper water on the edges. If we draw it over that way, the muck will slow its movement. Skitters and I will be nearby, hiding out on a path close to the boulders. Filu, position yourself by those trees... In the middle."
Zark'thul viewed the positions in question from his side. Not perfect, but still functional. They'd manage like that.
Three turned her attention towards the two berserkers. "I'm counting on you to hold its attention for as long as possible." Then, she glanced at the rest. "I'll start the attack since I have the longest range. Skitters will back me up."
"I got ya," the goblin chimed in.
"When we begin firing," she continued, "Wait for the beast to leave the deep part of the swamp and meet it then. It should be severely wounded by that point, but if not, focus on taking its legs out. We'll finish the job. Got it?"
Both berserkers gave enthusiastic nods.
After relaying a few more details, they split off and Three returned to the place where the squad had spotted the monster. The creature lumbered aimlessly along its murky pool, sloshing through the mire. Slow and ungainly in its movements, the Murk Beast's natural terrain should have been an advantage—but their planning mitigated that, making it into a disadvantage instead. Especially for something so large and cumbersome.
Once positioned on the higher ground, the berserker goblins hunkered down, hidden amongst the foliage. Filu melded with the shadows behind her cluster of trees. Skitters, having thrown a hood over his head, practically vanished in plain sight. Only Three, at a far-off boulder, kept watch on the beast, her rifle poised for the first strike.
Her composure seemed better, Zark'thul observed. Back in control. Confident. Whatever nervousness had plagued her prior to this was nowhere to be seen now.
Time to see how his agents would do on their own.
Three fired the first shot of their attack, signaling the squad's ambush. The sharp crack of the firearm shattered the ambient quiet and left a trail of gun smoke.
The bullet tore through the air, striking the Murk Beast in one of its bulbous eyes. The creature reared back, letting out a guttural roar that echoed through the clearing. The beast's massive head thrashed from side to side, its sluggish movements disrupted by the sudden pain. The swamp water around it rippled as it struggled to regain balance.
Shakily, the creature dragged itself forward and lurched in Three's direction, its movements disoriented. It sunk into the deeper swamp water where the shore dropped off.
Just when it trudged to the middle of the watery strip, Skitters' crossbow bolt whistled through the air. The missile flew true, piercing the Murk Beast's flank. Blood flowed freely from the wound, tainting the murky water with an ominous, scarlet bloom. But instead of stalling it, the monster merely uttered a growl that carried an undercurrent of newfound fury.
"Keep hitting it!" Three shouted, chambering her next round. She squeezed the trigger, letting another high-caliber bullet lance toward the monster. The shot punctured the beast's neck, ripping apart some of its soft flesh, adding to the pool of blood that oozed from its body and spread through the swamp.
With a snarling, gurgling hiss, the creature's movements became erratic. Its giant claws thrashed at the surrounding trees and boulders, sending chunks of earth and foliage flying, churning the water into a chaotic froth.
Eventually, it struggled to the shore, clawing onto land as its scaly legs fought for purchase on the slippery mire. The creature's hulking form bore the evidence of its wounds, but its predatory instincts still burned, its jaws opening in a primal shriek.
Rakk and Vraza dashed out of hiding, each one brandishing their oversized cleavers. Their mismatched hide and leather armor was plastered with moss and grime, yet they wore it like trophies.
"Now we fight," they hissed in unison, their voices rising above the murk of the swamp.
Rakk reached the beast first, his cleaver swinging down in a powerful arc. The blade bit into the creature's side, cutting through leathery hide and drawing a thick stream of dark ichor. The beast roared, its head snapping around to face him, but Vraza was already there, striking at its exposed flank. Her own blade carved a deep, savage line, drawing even more blood.
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The Murk Beast reeled, momentarily stunned by the assault from two flanking attackers. It thrashed and swung its massive tail, hitting the twins and sending them tumbling into the shallow water.
But even as they fell, their furious snarls mirrored their adversary's. They scrambled to their feet, muck clinging to their bodies, and charged again with a frenzy, not deterred in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Filu surged forward, the magic in her staff swirling into a chaotic orb of arcane energy that hurtled toward the creature. It struck its back, and the orb exploded in a flash of mystical light, momentarily dazing the monster and jostling it about.
Through the screens, Zark'thul watched the show unfolding. Underneath his quiet, regal air, a faint, hungry smile spread across his face.
His squad pressed on, undaunted.
Three and Skitters continued to fire at the creature, peppering it with bullets and crossbow bolts. Every shot found its mark, either piercing through the monster's scaled hide or gouging into its more vulnerable flesh. The goblin berserkers also left their own trail of carnage, their cleavers ripping and tearing through the beast's sinewy muscle wherever it could be exposed.
The Murk Beast reared up, letting out another bellow that shook the trees around them.
Three took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing as she lined up her next shot. She aimed for the creature's head, her finger tightening on the trigger. The crack of the rifle echoed through the clearing, the bullet piercing through the Murk Beast's skull.
The creature let out one last, gurgling roar before its massive form slumped forward, crashing into the swamp with a heavy splash.
For a moment, there was silence, then Filu approached it from her flank and leveled another orb of crackling energy at the still body.
An execution. And a fine one, at that.
"Did... did we get it?" Skitters asked, creeping from his hiding spot and slowly moving closer.
Three lowered her rifle, her gaze still locked on the beast. She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as the tension began to fade. "We got it," she said, her voice steady. "Good work, everyone."
akk let out a triumphant yell, raising his cleaver high above his head. "Yeah! That's how you do it!" He turned to Vraza, a wide grin on his face. "Told ya we'd take it down!"
"This thing's ugly," Vraza said as she sliced off one of its three toes. She held it aloft for everyone to see. "Got a new trophy, though."
Filu simply stood, looking the body over in approval, while Skitters eagerly scavenged their slain prey for materials and loot.
Zark'thul chuckled under his breath, listening to the words coming in from the command room screens. Everything had been more efficient than he could have possibly hoped for. The synergy between each role, the calculated approach, the use of their surroundings—despite their low levels, this squad's composition seemed formidable.
Had his luck finally turned?
"Fifty-six seconds," Elspeth remarked from beside him.
"What?" Zark'thul asked, slightly irritated by her breaking him out of his train of thought.
"The squad's performance. Fifty-six seconds to eliminate the target. For comparison, your best time when you were present was ninety-three seconds."
Though she spoke in that same flat, businesslike tone, Zark'thul could almost hear the smugness underneath it all. Was that gloating? Did she sound pleased that he hadn't been there on the field to see this victory himself? Or was that his own ego making such ridiculous assumptions?
Still, though, he had to admit the results were impressive. Perhaps she was right.
"An optimal outcome, considering the variables," he agreed with an exhale. "Better than even I expected, given their personalities and levels..."
[Directive 1-1: Slay the Murk Beast complete!] Repeat Reward: 100 Experience (EXP), 10 Quintessence Shards (QSP), 2 Experience Cores (Basic), 1 sickle
[You have advanced to Level 3]
> image [https://i.imgur.com/AEB8z9S.png]
>
> [Name] Zark'thul
> [Role] CEO
> [Level] 3
> [Experience] 50/4500
> [Accolades] None
> [Health] 600/600
> [Essence] 130/130
> Attack (ATK): 30
> Magic (MAG): 84
> Defense (DEF): 42
> Magic Resistance (MRES): 72
> Speed (SPD): 22
> Crit Rate (CRIT): 7%
> Dodge Rate (DODGE): 9%
> Block Rate (BLOCK): 9%
>
> [Agent Pool Size] 10/15
> [Deployment Slots] 2
> [Abilities] Voracious Maw of the Abyss (Rank 1), *new* Eldritch Fortitude (Rank 1)
A new power...
What could it be? A quick check revealed more information:
> [Eldritch Fortitude] As a former eldritch entity, you've learned how to reapply some of your innate endurance into this frail human shell you currently inhabit. You've obtained 10% damage resistance against most physical or energy-based attacks, minor resistance to poison and environmental effects, and total immunity to diseases and magical control powers.
Hmm. Quite a useful, if not impressive, set of traits. It would offer an added layer of protection and endurance, allowing him to resist both the raw physical forces and the insidious ailments that often plagued the mundane realm. Ten percent was no small thing, he noted.
Still, a lot could probably be improved, then. Perhaps further ranking up this Ability could let him go beyond merely enduring this frail flesh...
For now, he'd test it later on.
Zark'thul tapped the 'Recall' icon, and the feed began to flicker. On the other side, the squad shimmered for a moment before winking out of existence.
He then turned to Elspeth and gestured at her. "Come along, then. We'll meet them at the Nexus Room. This was an excellent step towards progressing farther."
She just nodded. Together they strode from the room, Zark'thul wearing a faint grin.
----------------------------------------
After the debriefing at the Nexus Room, Zark'thul followed Three to the part of the barracks where the other REDLINEs were housed. All the Agents waited in the small recreation area in their sector. Unlike the commons, which held more of the basic amenities, this side seemed comparatively bare. Few furnishings, little in the way of decorations, only what was essential.
He caught sight of Agent Four, the REDLINEs Support, seated at a long table next to Agents One, Two, and Five. All four wore casual expressions as they peered at a collection of cards laid in front of them.
"Well done," Zark'thul stated to Three as they headed to her compatriots. "Excellent job at fulfilling the objective. As promised, I'll reward your choice."
While Zark'thul stopped a few paces away, Three came to a halt before the others. They took one look at her and immediately shoved the cards into a pile off to the side. Then, they huddled together, as though already working out some silent understanding in their heads. Whatever Three was about to request, they wouldn't be kept out of it.
There was a moment where Three faltered—brows twitched, fists tightened, and a little bob of the head as she struggled to vocalize her thoughts. That same old anxiousness as before, then.
"You promised a reward for that victory. Against the Murk Beast," she began, turning to face him. "Anything we ask for that's within reason, yes?"
The rest of the REDLINEs stood on either side, leaning in closer.
He gave an approving nod. "Anything reasonable is acceptable. If it's within my ability to give, it shall be yours."
"So," Three spoke, swallowing after, "If possible, I want..."
She drew in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut, then forced the words out in a rush, her body tensing. Her expression gave no hint as to her inner conflict. The other REDLINEs simply watched her, all waiting for the same question with the same tension. As if she was about to demand some great and powerful thing that was both needed and sacred...
Zark'thul still wasn't sure what exactly was going through Three's mind. Or, for that matter, her three colleagues.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"...I want you to give us proper names," she finished.
Confusion held him in check. For a long moment, Zark'thul stared at Three. He mentally replayed the words that had just come out of her lips. All the nervousness, all the tense anticipation, the meaningful glances at her fellow REDLINEs, all of it—for this...?
"You want..." He enunciated every word deliberately. "...names? That is your request?"
Three gave a taut nod. "Yes. Name us properly this time. We don't want to be reduced to mere numbers anymore." Then, in a smaller voice, she added, "We've had enough of being treated like objects."
There was a subtle undercurrent in her tone. Of anger. Of determination.
A flicker of irritation sparked deep within him, sharp and cold.
Names?
His eldritch instincts recoiled at the idea. He had commanded armies of beings, twisted nightmares and horrors from realms beyond comprehension, none of whom had needed names to serve him. They had been tools—silent, loyal, disposable. His power had been enough to shape their very existence. But now, in this human form, he was being asked to acknowledge his agents as more than numbers, more than mere extensions of his will.
A part of him, the part that had once ruled with sheer terror and domination, wanted to dismiss the request outright, to remind them of their place. What did a name change? What did it matter?
Power was what mattered.
As he opened his mouth to reply, the REDLINEs at her sides swelled with that same intensity. They inched closer to her, eyes blazing at him.
As he considered the request, a brief memory flickered across his mind—shadowed forms kneeling before him, countless beings from dimensions long since lost to his will. His former minions had been transformed horrors, connected to his hive mind. They had existed without names, without individuality.
But now... the REDLINEs stood before him, watching, waiting.
They wanted something different. This was not the time of eldritch domination; he could not crush or consume them as he once might have. They were not the drones he was accustomed to. Here, he couldn't risk straining an already delicate bond of trust.
Zark'thul let out a sigh.
Perhaps... a name was not such a trivial thing, after all.
It was an alien concept to his eldritch mind, but one that even he could understand as a necessity. For beings to take pride in who they were, a name was just that: an identity that was uniquely theirs.
Even he had a name, after all.
"...I see," he said. His hands settled on his hips, considering. "Very well. Names. You shall have them." While he said that, a genuine grin formed on his face. "Strange request, but I can't deny it."
To his surprise, they collectively held their breath at his comment before eventually sighing in relief, some more than others. Clearly they hadn't believed he would keep to his word. Or perhaps had thought him incapable of going through with this simple promise.
"This shall take a moment to consider," he informed them. "I'll give you forty-eight hours to think of a name each of you want for yourselves. If you still want me to choose, that is fine as well. Report back to me when you are ready."
In perfect unison, the REDLINEs spoke. "Thank you, sir."
Then, with that, Zark'thul left their barracks to head back to his quarters. Elspeth silently trailed behind him, silent save for the soft clatter of her steps.
"I sense a commentary forming in that electronic brain of yours," he stated to her.
She didn't answer for a moment, as if caught off guard. But then, that same smooth, enigmatic tone that belonged to her filled the corridor. "You're warming up to your role as a leader," she pointed out. "The bond is beginning to form."
He suppressed a snort. "Bond. Don't be ridiculous."
"You gave them something they wanted—names. It serves no direct purpose for your goals, and yet you granted it."
Zark'thul's pace slowed, her words gnawing at the edges of his mind. He had seen it as a transactional exchange—something simple, something that would solidify their obedience. But had it been that simple?
"I promised those things, therefore it makes perfect sense to fulfill them," he shot back. "Does that not result in greater loyalty on their parts? Since they will know I keep my word?"
"You're not merely fulfilling promises," Elspeth continued, "you're fostering their sense of identity. This isn't just about loyalty through power anymore. You're beginning to understand that their investment in you goes beyond obedience. They seek validation, recognition—elements that, in this world, are tied to bonding. In the long run, this will make them more effective. More willing to die for you, if that's what you need."
He grunted. "It's manipulation, then."
At last, she stepped beside him. They walked together, the ambient lighting of the hallways softening their appearance into an almost soothing image.
She tilted her head, the faintest hint of a smile playing across her lips. "If you wish to call it that, perhaps. But it is also leadership. Leadership isn't merely control; it's understanding what motivates those beneath you, giving them what they need to perform at their peak, even if it's something as simple as a name."
"I will never understand these human trivialities," Zark'thul muttered under his breath, yet even as he spoke, his words didn't carry the same conviction. "But I will use them, if it means success."
Elspeth's steps slowed behind him. "That's how it starts. 'Use' soon turns to 'understand'."
"Is that another of your 'observational comments?'" he asked.
The ever-present smile that she wore gave nothing away. She said nothing to confirm or deny his accusation.
Silence followed them for the rest of their way back to his room. It lasted the entire length of that trip, yet he found his thoughts to be anything but quiet.