James looked down at the spasming figure of Soluble, their translucent mass slowly getting overtaken by an inky substance emanating from their bones. They screamed, no, screeched, a high sound that resonated throughout the hall, the hallway, and even the tunnel the lair's entrance was hidden in. James didn't bother paying any more attention to them, he knew they would not be getting back up any time soon. He knew what the slime was capable of. The other person currently enduring a painful experience in the room however was a complete mystery.

James approached the fallen body of Grover, the tall man's clay armor had been destroyed once the black electricity bolt of the infused electrogun armed with the infused battery had hit him. Even now loose black bolts emerged from the man's flesh before returning inside, like some kind of demented worm full of energy and a sadistic joy in inflicting as much pain as possible in their poor victim. That couldn't be the case, surely. Those were only loose sparks, nothing more. Hopefully.

James picked up the man and began to rummage through the pockets of the camo clothing he had worn underneath the armor. He took out everything he saw, no matter what it looked like, just in case it could be a trap or be used as a means of escape. He carefully examined each item - some keys, a few knives, a throwing dagger, a lighter, a radio, some basic lockpicking equipment, a pack of mints... Nothing that screamed 'secret doomsday device', but he would still pass them all to Sam to see if the young tech prodigy could find anything special. He would never be too safe.

The raid was over. The threat was gone. All of their enemies had been defeated, either killed or imprisoned and yet... James felt hollow.

No. This isn't over yet. I still have those who surrendered to deal with.

"Polisson!"

The large black rat with the shadowy paw ran into the hall, coming from the outside.

"Yes, master?"

"Have Mischief clean up the blood outside. And bring the bodies in the hallway to the storage room."

"The doors, master."

"Ah, yes. Give me a moment."

James emptied his head and focused on his connections to infused objects. He ignored the ongoing fight in Soluble's body and turned towards the various fake walls he had made and, with some concentration, remotely detached them from the rest of the walls they were each connected to.

"You should be able to push them down now."

"Thank you, master."

"Oh, and Polisson?"

"Yes, master?"

"Good job. All of you."

"It is our duty, master."

James looked at the rat go as he left, staying unmoving in the center of the hall for some time. Alone with his thoughts. His doubts. His guilt.

"Come on, now. Let's see what the two of you will have to say."

James grabbed the unconscious forms of Soluble and Grover - enveloping the slime into what little remained of their leather clothes to make carrying them easier - and advanced further into his lair to go to the little jail he had improvised. It wasn't much, mostly a large empty room - bar a small box - with three barred cells. He had planned to put the different teams in the different cells at first, but the teams were larger than he thought they'd be. Each cell could handle a couple of people, four at most if things got cramped, but...

Only one team had surrendered. There were only six of them. Might as well let them roam free in the empty room, they were unarmed after all.

Well, that was not quite true. There were another two that had surrendered, but James had led them to another room before his fight with the two Cored. They were waiting in his war room, probably worried about their fate. He would have to deal with them soon enough.

When he reached the door to the jail he took the time to stop and listen to what the thugs that had already surrendered were doing.

"Sooo... Things have gone awfully quiet."

"What do you think happened?"

"Considering the explosion I guess they blew their way in?"

"I mean, that one's pretty obvious. It's more the 'everything has gone silent after a bunch of noise' that gets to me."

"Understandable. But, I have no idea. My trick is finger guns, not clairvoyance."

"How does that even work? Are they like, bullets of air that magically form, or is it a bunch of bone pieces that detach themselves?"

"It's a secret."

"Oh come on, you can't tease us like this. We all surrendered together! We're a team!"

"We're the Shadow Commando!"

"That's still a horrible name but this guy gets it!"

"I don't think surrendering is considered a team-bonding experience..."

"How dare you disrespect the importance of cowardice!"

"Besides, if board games are a way to bond, all agreeing not to face overwhelming odds that would certainly result in an agonizing death should be one too."

"Yeah, that too."

"Anyway, all that aside... Who do you think won?"

"I dunno, probably the boss of this place? Otherwise, there would have been more explosions and gunshots and they'd have come for us by now?"

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"Yeah, but counterpoint: if clay guy and slime person lost, why didn't anyone come to see us, either to discuss the terms of release or to finish the job?"

"True, true."

"What if they all killed each other and we're trapped in this room?"

"Ah. That would be problematic."

"I finished my rations, by the way."

"According to Barca's guide to survival, it's the first one to waste all of his food who should be eaten first."

"Wasn't Barca a cannibal? Like, with people's pieces in his fridge."

"Yes, and?"

"I feel like a cannibal's opinions on food management aren't objective.

"No, no, he's got a point. A cannibal would know the best way to manage eating people."

"Why are you so obsessed with eating him anyway?"

"Not him, it's just a survival thing. Like that boat full of rich people that sank and they all had to survive on a raft until another boat passed by and saved them. They ate a lot of people."

"I mean, he ain't wrong. Cannibalism is common in strandings. When you don't have food, the dead become the food. Even if you have to do the killing yourself."

"Alright, you do you. I'm just saying, if any of you try to eat me, I'm finger gunning his head off."

"Noted. So... Anyone has some cards? I forgot mine at home."

"Depends. Classic cards or sports cards?"

"I was thinking something more along the lines of Technology, The Division."

"Dude. No."

"But-"

"No."

I think they had enough fun...

James moved the door and entered the room, still dragging the raid's two leaders' unconscious and occasionally spasming forms behind him as the thugs all stood at once and faced him, surprise and slight fear etched on their faces.

"I see you behaved. For that I am grateful."

"Uh... You're welcome?"

James continued to advance, closing the door behind him and fusing back with the wall as he went directly to the cells, ignoring the thugs' nervous reactions and the way they all stepped back to keep some distance from him. He formed tentacles that latched onto the bars of the cells and removed them, placing Soluble and Grover in two different ones before he put back the bars in place.

"Now that this has been taken care of, I think it is time we have a little conversation. Namely, what to do with you."

"We... Surrendered, so... You ain't gonna kill us, right?"

"Oh, no. Do not worry. I promised no harm would come to you, and I will uphold that promise. But, you must understand that I cannot simply let potentially hostile strangers walk away scot-free after they entered my home. There is a reason I elected to dwell in these dark forgotten tunnels, after all."

"So... You're going to keep us here?"

"It would be the most logical solution. Unpractical, however, since sustaining long-term prisoners is a chore that, frankly, I have no wish to enact. Hence this conundrum."

"So... What?"

"I'm offering you another choice. Something that I may come to regret, but hope will prove to be the right decision."

"You're kinda killing me with the suspense here dude."

"I'm offering you a job."

"You're what now."

"Jobs?"

"How's the pay?"

"A hundred Xerins every week."

"Oh, that's-"

"Each."

"Where do I sign?"

"Whoa, you're fine hiring us? After we tried to kill you?"

"Well, we gave up before we even saw him..."

"Worse! We immediately gave up! That's not encouraging behavior!"

"Don't look the gift horse in the mouth, lass. But I do want to hear what's the job first."

"I already have two employees, Larry and Barry - you may be familiar with them?"

"Nope."

"Never heard of 'em."

"Aren't they the guys Soluble hates?"

"I think they sold me a broken watch once?"

"In any case, they act as my contacts to the outside world. They buy what I ask them to, inform me about the latest news, and are loyal. Hence why I do pay them more than I offer you. They have my trust. You do not yet. But, as for what I want you to do... I want you to protect them. This little fiasco of yours proved that, despite doing my best to stay out of everyone's way, some still wish to do me harm. That I will not allow."

"So we'll be bodyguards?"

"At first. Who knows what the future holds for us. I did not get to use the traps I had set up, since you all attacked at once in large groups, but adding guards may be a worthwhile endeavor."

"Traps?"

"Spikes that would pop up out of the ground, the walls, and sometimes even the ceiling. Useless against large groups sadly, but one day they might have to prove their effectiveness."

"Meh, I can do guard stuff. Looking scary's easy."

"Yeah, you do have one ugly mug."

"Eh!"

"Escorting? Yeah, I can do that."

While the men began to cheer and discuss the job they had been offered, the sole woman among them seemed uncomfortable about something.

"Uh... Just to be curious... How many of us surrendered? Like, this is the jail, right? Where are the others?"

"If I do not take into account your group, two people surrendered."

She did not like that answer.

"Two?"

"Two."

"How... Many of them escaped?"

"None."

She really did not like this answer.

"... None?"

"None."

"Oh."

Silence stretched on between the two, the rest of the thugs sharing concerned looks at the weight of James' words.

"How... Many died?"

"I have yet to count the bodies. The entire group, except for you, Soluble, Grover, and the other two surrenderees, is no more."

A chill went down each of their spines.

"And who-"

"Mostly myself. Some of my subordinates, ones not suited to the surface world, handled that orc's, Skuller, group, but I took care of the others. Brutus and the eight men who accompanied Soluble and Grover."

"I see."

"If you-"

"I'll work for you."

"As I said, I have no plans on harming you-"

"I don't mind working for someone who has blood on their hands. We all do here. That's why we were hired by Grover. And I appreciate a boss who cares."

"I... Thank you. Your first task will be to watch over these two prisoners. In the meantime, I will make the same offer to the other two surrenderees and start to work on repairing the entrance."

"You heard that, guys? The Shadow Commando's first job, guard duty!"

""Yeah!""

"I still think that name's stupid."

"Uh, boss, could we get our weapons back?"

"No. Not yet. But here."

James approached the bow in a corner of the room, unfused the lid and the body, and opened it, revealing a pile of black rods.

"These are maces."

"Look like stone sticks."

"Yes, but upgraded stone. The same material as the walls of this place."

""Oooh.""

"Use these in case either of our friends tries to break out. They should stay out cold for a while, but I prefer to be safe."

"Couldn't the slime pass through the bars? I mean the skeleton could get stuck, but I'm not sure?"

"Soluble won't do anything. Of this I am sure. If they try, hit them with the maces and scream. I will come."

"You got it, boss."

James left the jail, heading to his war room.

Behind him, once he had left them alone, the Shadow Commando began to talk once more.

"Why did you say Shadow Commando? He's gonna use that now! We're stuck with that awful name!"

"I dunno, it had a nice dramatic flair."

"Don't you 'dramatic flair' me!"

"Anyway, how come you were so nervous about what happened to everyone else but when he said he killed them all you were fine with working for him?"

"Because he counted them."

"And?"

"Do you remember how many people you've killed?"

"I... No..."

"We stop counting when we stop caring."

"Maybe he's just a professional?"

"He said he had chosen this spot because it was isolated. No one knows about him. He speaks in an overly dramatic way."

"So?"

"He ain't a professional. If anything, my gut is telling me this was his first human kill."

"He seemed awfully calm for a first-blooder."

"Easy to lie without a face."

"True."

"So... What?"

"We stay. A hundred Xerins may not be much, but... I think he's a good guy. And I'm tired of working for jerks."

"Good guys are usually the first to get killed."

"Maybe."

The woman smiled.

"But I have a good feeling."