The trek back to Sanctum was grim and quiet. The freed hybrids—emaciated, bruised, and frightened—followed behind Tara and Ethan in a scattered line. They moved slowly through the dense forest that lay between the Ashfall Mountains and their hidden refuge. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and dirt, and the cold wind whistled through the trees, carrying with it the grim reminder of what they were leaving behind.

Ethan moved silently beside Tara, his downcast eyes at odds with his bulky, spiky spider form. His mind was preoccupied with the weight of what had happened back at the camp, especially the encounter with the boy. The word still rang in his ears: monster. He had told himself a thousand times that they were justified—that they were freeing slaves, destroying oppressors. But deep inside, something gnawed at him, something uncomfortable and all too human.

"You're quiet," Tara said, breaking the silence. She kept her eyes on the path ahead, but her tone carried the faintest hint of concern.

Ethan's voice, still distorted and guttural in his current form, replied, "Just thinking."

"Same here," the Minxit smiled, throwing her arms behind her head in a gesture of blissful abandon. “The rush of stabbing a human through the heart just can’t be beat, can it?”

He glanced at her, though with his monstrous visage, it was hard to tell if his expression held guilt or resolve.

Normally, this was the time where he’d make some kind of sarcastic remark or quip, or banter with Sys, trying to turn this whole fiasco into a game.

But, looking back over the crowd of slaves that walked behind him, their eyes downcast and yet ever hopeful, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to think about this world the way he had before.

“…I had the gall to say my previous life was full of shit,” he said aloud. “Yet here I am, looking at a world that’s covered in it.”

“Don’t think about it too much,” Tara murmured back. “It slows you down.”

By the time they neared Sanctum’s hidden entrance, the light was beginning to fade, casting long shadows across the forest floor.

As they approached, two hybrid sentinels emerged from the shadows, both equipped with crude but effective weapons. Their eyes widened when they saw the group approaching.

“Tara, Ethan!” one of the sentinels called out, stepping forward. “We were just about to send a search party. Klax was worried sick! But you’ve returned. And with…”

Tara gave a brief nod, her expression unreadable. “Open the gate.”

The sentinel hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering over the exhausted, beaten slaves trailing behind them. Then, with a swift motion, he signaled to his companion. Together, they moved to reveal the hidden passage that led into the underground sanctuary and some much-needed rest after their exertions.

But the moment they entered the underground warrens, where most had long ago decided to retire for the night, a familiar, towering figure stormed toward them.

Klax.

The massive wolfman was a fearsome sight. His fur bristled with rage, and his eyes blazed as he marched up to Ethan and Tara, fists clenched.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Klax’s voice thundered through the chamber, drawing the attention of everyone around them. Several hybrids paused their tasks, watching the confrontation unfold with wary glances.

Ethan shifted uncomfortably, his massive arachnid limbs clicking against the stone floor as he readied himself for Klax’s tirade.

"You attacked a human-controlled settlement,” Klax’s snarl echoed off the walls. "Do you have any idea what you've done? What you've risked?"

Tara crossed her arms, her face hard. “We freed slaves, Klax. Isn't that what we’re fighting for?”

Klax’s snarl deepened, his fangs glinting under the pale light. “And now the humans know we’re out here. They’ll retaliate. They’ll come looking for us, and next time, it won’t be some backwater camp you can take out in one strike. They’ll send an army.”

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Ethan, still towering over Klax in his spider form, felt the urge to argue, to defend their actions. But he couldn’t shake the lingering guilt from earlier. The thought of the boy and the possibility of putting all of Sanctum in danger weighed on him.

“We couldn’t just sit back and do nothing,” Ethan finally said, his voice rasping with the inherent menace of Rachneros’ body. "We saw what they were doing to those hybrids. If we’d waited any longer, they would’ve been dead or worse."

Klax said nothing for a moment—his eyes shifting between the two of them.

Klax’s eyes flared. “And now you’ve damned us all.”

The room went quiet. The hybrids, the rescued slaves, even Tara stood silent as the gravity of Klax’s words settled over them.

“Take these free folk to the quarters in the southern block,” Klax told the guards. “Give them food, water, shelter, fresh clothes—see if anyone has any spare linen.”

The slaves were trundled off, bowing to Ethan as they went, some simply staring up at him with bloodshot eyes and saying nothing at all. It was like they still couldn’t believe this place was real.

“You two,” Klax said. “Follow me to the castle.”

The Lycae’s hairs were standing on end—his great grey mane furrowed and frayed. Fauna was nowhere to be seen—probably for the best. As they approached the castle drawbridge, Ethan cast a look up at the crimson eye banners that hung from its Martello towers and cringed.

Yeah… that’s me, alright.

He hadn’t given it much thought before, but he really was here to lead a revolution against this world and its dominant species, wasn’t he?

And it seemed to him like that meant he had as little control over his destiny here as he did back on Earth…

What was that ‘Law’ they always talked about? ‘Kaedmon’s Law?’ The one that said they could only be what they were all ‘supposed to be’?

As Ethan looked at the arched back of Klax, he thought again about their conversation back in the depths of the Festering Den—about how that ‘rule’ was the most bullshit proclamation any supposed ‘God’ could possibly make.

Inside the castle, they followed Klax to the throne room, where the images of all the old Archons stared down at them.

“Suppose you’re gonna lecture me now?” Tara groaned nonchalantly, stretching her limbs in a gesture that said ‘I don’t give a fuck’ better than any words could. “Just get it over with quick—”

“Do you understand what we’re up against?” Klax thundered. Then, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl: “The humans don’t see us as a threat—yet. But now you’ve made them aware. You’ve made them angry. And when they come for us, they’ll come in force. More hybrids will die because of this, Tara. Because you can’t follow a single damn order.”

Tara stepped forward, her amber eyes narrowing. “So what, then? We wait? We let them keep enslaving our people until we’re ready? Slaughtering them like cattle? How many more have to suffer while we sit here, planning and hiding?”

Klax turned his gaze on her, his nostrils flaring. “We’ve been planning for years, Tara. Preparing for a real strike, one that could turn the tide of this war—not a reckless attack that risks everything.”

Ethan, feeling the tension rise between the two, interjected. “I get it, Klax. But we couldn’t just leave them.”

Klax’s eyes flared. “And now you’ve doomed them. And quite possibly the rest of us.”

“You’re speaking to the Archon, Klaxy,” Tara rebuked. “Know your place. He’s our leader, now.”

The Lycae’s fury suddenly exploded, his paw smashing against one of the murals.

“You think I care about who leads us?!” he raged. “You think that matters, Tara? You really think that after all this time—after all we’ve sacrificed to build this place—that’s what I care most about?”

Klax’s eyes shifted to Ethan, and for a moment, the fire in them dimmed. "I know you hate those camps. We all do. But what you’ve done now—it may have cost us everything."

Ethan felt a hollow pit in his chest. He understood Klax’s fury, even if he didn’t fully agree. But standing there, in the safety of Sanctum, surrounded by those they had just saved, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his choice.

The hybrid leader sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. "What’s done is done. I'll alert the mages under Lamphrey to strengthen the illusory barriers and runestones on the surface. But that won't trick a determined group of Greys if they come a-knocking." He turned away from Ethan and Tara, his voice still carrying a sharp edge. “And come they will. You can be certain of that.”

“And we’ll be ready for ‘em,” Tara replied, her face still covered in the dried blood of their prey. “With Ethan as our Archon, there’s no man we can’t beat. Even the Lightborn won’t stand a chance this time.”

Klax looked long and hard at Tara before he turned and walked away, his broad back disappearing into the shadows of the tunnels.

“You’ve never seen a real war, Tara,” he said as he departed. “You don’t yet know what humanity is capable of. Isn’t that right, Ethan?”

Ethan stood there in silence, feeling the weight of Klax’s words settle over him like a lead cloak. He glanced at Tara, who was watching Klax leave, her face a mask of defiance.

“We did the right thing,” she said quietly, though her tone suggested she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

“Yeah… we did.”

Ethan nodded, though doubt still gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to turn it into a joke, he couldn’t.

The image of himself in the eyes of that boy. Of a monster that was coming to swallow the world whole—it had burrowed into his brain, and it was staying there.

And it dawned on him: if he wanted to change this world, it was its people's minds he'd have to change.

Either that, or trample them into dust...