Then, Threnosh World
PJ15 crept cautiously up the transport’s ramp into the yawning darkness. The two E.W.S. soldiers trailed behind in flanking formation.
They reached the sliding doors that led into the transport’s main passenger compartment.
Stay here and cover me, PJ15 sent to the two soldiers.
The soldiers switched to their short-ranged laser weapons and signaled acknowledgment as they took positions on both sides of the doors.
PJ15 gave the signal and the soldiers manually pulled the doors open. The whine of their power armors was a soft whisper, but sounded like a loud shout in the silence of the enclosed space.
PJ15 dipped into the dark interior with speed and purpose. Their power armor scanned the entire space in a split-second. It appeared empty, but with the wide array of potential enemy abilities PJ15 wasn’t going to take any chances.
They took cover behind the closest berth as they took the time for a second scan.
Back by the door the two soldiers leaned their laser weapons out of cover.
Moving forward. Follow behind. 3 meters.
The soldiers signaled assent.
PJ15 moved toward the front of the transport. There was the smaller command and control compartment up ahead, after which was the pilot’s compartment.
They expected an attack at any moment.
The pilot was most likely dead. There was no other reason for them to go silent, nor for the transport to completely power down.
PJ15 pried the doors to the next compartment with their own hands only to be greeted by a fist to the face. Their power armor reacted quicker, under its own accord. The front of their helmet thickened and tendrils shot out of their back to yank them away from the punch.
It resulted in a punch robbed of much of its impact.
A glob of liquid shot out of the darkened compartment.
It struck an E.W.S. soldier in the chest.
The acidic substance ate away at their chest armor with frightening speed. It reached through to the Threnosh in the following seconds.
The doomed soldier fired their laser weapon into the darkness. They jerked their weapon up as the substance ate away at their flesh. The soldier’s finger locked on the trigger in death, causing the weapon to continue to carve through the transport’s ceiling until its energy cell was drained.
The remaining soldier switched to their sonic weapon and covered the door with the cone-shaped field.
A second glob of acid flew out of the darkness.
The sonic field managed to disperse most of it, but a few droplets struck the sonic weapon. Enough to render it useless.
“Retreat,” PJ15 said.
The soldier complied without a word.
PJ15 sent pointed tendrils spearing at their unseen assailants.
They felt several pierce flesh. Hard skin from the tactile feedback transmitted back through the tendrils.
PJ15 turned the sharp points into hooks with a thought and retracted the tendrils.
Or rather they tried.
The Inheritor hidden in the darkness didn’t budge.
Before PJ15 could do anything else a spray of acidic liquid drenched their tendrils.
PJ15 felt the pain eating away at the tendrils as if it was their own skin. The substance must’ve been particular potent if it was able to partially bypass the inherent protections of their power armor. Normally, only a small part of pain sensations were allowed through.
They severed their tendrils with a thought and stumbled back, off-balance.
PJ15 recognized the first Inheritor that came out of the compartment ahead.
Zeyt, spitting more acid out of their mouth.
PJ15 extruded a round shield out of their arm to block the acid, detaching it before the substance could spread to the rest of their arm. With their other arm they whipped a tendril out and smacked Zeyt into a bulkhead on the side of the transport.
They didn’t recognize the second Inheritor. It had pale gray skin, almost white. Tall and muscular it conveyed strength in the way it moved. Judging by the number of tendrils sticking out of its body and the way it appeared unconcerned suggested it didn’t feel pain in an impactful way.
The new Inheritor moved quickly.
PJ15 was caught flat-footed as the Inheritor rushed forward, grabbed them and threw them into the command and control compartment. Their spinning body broke through the metal of the door frame.
The E.W.S. soldier struck the pale Inheritor with their laser. The beam burned a thin hole through its left shoulder.
The Inheritor paid the wound no mind as it stomped after PJ15.
Zeyt spat more acid at the soldier, who dived out of the way and fired their laser.
The beam lanced through Zeyt’s right elbow, shearing the lower arm right off.
Blood and acidic liquid splashed down in copious amounts to the transport’s floor.
The substance ate through it in seconds.
Lucky, or perhaps unlucky depending on where one stood, it dripped straight down to the transport’s power source.
The explosion consumed Zeyt and the soldier.
PJ15 found themselves riding a fireball right out of the cockpit and into the dark tunnel.
The pale Inheritor tumbled past them. It rolled around to douse the flames that covered its body almost nonchalantly.
Much of the surface of PJ15’s power was burned and charred.
Critical loss of mass. Recommend immediate replacement with biological matter.
PJ15 was confused. The voice in their head sounded distinct, yet their comms weren’t active.
Sufficient bio mass approaching at five hundred meters.
PJ15 struggled to their feet.
Beyond the pale Inheritor, hundreds of corrupted charged out of the darkness.
The transport burned in a raging fire behind them. Beyond that the rest of PJ15’s team fought. There was no hope for retreat or escape.
PJ15 had only one course of action. They had to hold the line to keep their team from being crushed between two enemy forces.
Together we are stronger.
PJ15 recognized the voice in their thoughts. It had grown from nothing, to whispers, to this over the last two years during their struggle behind enemy lines.
The T-Men were different from the majority of Threnosh society by virtue of the unique power armors they had obtained from the spires.
Although PJ15 was part of the T-Men they were different. Their power armor was different. They didn’t obtain it from the spires. It grew from the heart of a giant, powerful monster. Honor had wrenched it as his spoils after a terrible struggle.
PJ15 was special even amongst unique individuals.
In the entirety of the known Threnosh world, there were only fifteen individuals at the highest level of strength and power.
The primes fought the gravest threats.
We fight together.
PJ15 was hesitant. They hadn’t received much guidance with their power armor. Honor hadn’t known much despite his willingness to help. Prime Custodian 3 knew plenty, but they had claimed that each was unique.
There was no choice.
To lose was to fail their team.
PJ15 would die before that happened.
“Together.”
A whole host of options suddenly appeared on PJ15’s faceplate. Different weapon configurations and even new forms. A spike of pain shot through their brain.
They knew, instantly, what the dozen or so new capabilities did and how to perform them.
Critical need: Obtain bio mass.
The words were accompanied by a suggestion.
PJ15 concurred.
They attacked.
PJ15’s power-armored body dissolved into a large slug-like mass or writhing tendrils and jagged teeth. They flowed across the floor with surprising speed as the threw themselves into the enemy mass.
It was a massacre.
A single Inheritor with several hundred corrupted were nothing to a prime.
Bio mass obtained.
----------------------------------------
Now, Threnosh World
Salamander sliced deep gashes into Gyxdor’s muscular body with their over-sized right gauntlet claw.
The Inheritor’s skin blistered and popped like fried pork skins from the intense heat produced by the flames that wreathed Salamander’s power armor.
Despite the horrendous damage, Gyxdor wasn’t slowing down. He battered Salamander from one side of the tunnel to the other with thunderous blows that echoed deep into the darkness.
Salamander had silenced the damage alerts except for the most critical long ago, the incessant beeping in their ear holes and the flashing lights had become too distracting.
The flame-clad Threnosh ducked a punch that cratered the metallic wall. They shuffled back and breathed a white hot flame that burned Gyxdor’s left arm almost down to the bone.
The behemoth’s skin and large chunks of muscle practically melted off the bone.
“Pain is strength!” Gyxdor roared.
Salamander disagreed, but they were willing to provide more of it if that was what the Inheritor desired.
More flame poured out of their draconic helmet’s maw. This time it was orange. They couldn’t maintain the intensity indefinitely. Especially with the drain their fiery mantle placed on finite resources.
The Inheritor only had one usable hand and arm left. Vast tracts of his massive frame were charred black. Still, he kept coming.
Salamander checked the city section map with one eye while they ducked, dived and dodged out of the way of Gyxdor’s massive fists and feet.
Fortune favored them.
There was a perfect spot just several hundred meters down the tunnel. They extinguished their flame mantle. They needed every last bit of their reserves.
Salamander turned and ran.
“Yet again, you flee!” Gyxdor gave chase.
Salamander ran past their spot. They turned and skidded to a halt.
One last chance.
They breathed a tight stream of fire down to the floor.
The metal glowed red, then orange, then white hot in seconds.
Gyxdor thundered toward Salamander.
A clear thinking warrior would have, perhaps, thought something amiss with an opponent attacking the floor.
The massive Inheritor wasn’t one. Gyxdor fought with unbridled rage and the desire to crush his opponents. He wasn’t concerned with what Salamander was doing. To him, all that mattered was crushing his opponents with his bare hands.
The pain of stepping on white hot metal was nothing compared to the shock of finding himself suddenly plummeting down a dark shaft.
Salamander had found an access shaft just large enough to fit Gyxdor’s massive bulk. All he had to do was weaken the metal door enough to let the Inheritor’s weight do the rest of the work.
The Threnosh listened to Gyxdor’s indignant roars with satisfaction.
“Same result,” Salamander said into the black hole at their feet.
Their power armor was mostly drained. Their fire had been burned out. They consulted their map and sought the quickest way to get back up to the battle with the Mother.
----------------------------------------
Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 held nominal command of the defense for City Section 75’s central security station.
Nominal because the T-Men weren’t in the standard chain of command.
The subcommander’s orders were treated as suggestions. They only had direct control over the two squads of soldiers, mixed between standard and heavy infantry. Even the E.W.S. soldiers answered directly to Subcommander Solemn Coast 963, who in turn answered to Telatrine back at the main base camp.
In short, Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 was forced to deploy their soldiers in support of the various T-Men. They reacted rather than dictated the defense.
The battle wasn’t going well.
The corrupted came in waves. There were thousands of them.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The subcommander took solace in the fact that the Inheritors had not appeared. Their hope was that the operation to rescue Honor had drawn the dangerous organisms’ attention.
The holographic projections in the center of the command chamber displayed all areas of the battle raging around the multi-level security station.
“Requesting fire support at these coordinates,” Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 said into the team channel as they transmitted the precise telemetry thanks to the multitude of flying surveillance drones blanketing the area. At least that was one thing that was going to their advantage. Frequency’s efforts to counteract the enemy’s interference had proved crucial. “Corrupted massing in greater numbers for what appears to be a push on our northwest quadrant.” The subcommander was bothered by the need to justify themselves. It was an very un-Threnosh way of thinking, which they quickly dismissed from their thoughts.
“Acknowledged.” Maul stood on the roof of a three-level structure across the street from the station. They launched several explosive mortars with loud thooms from the launcher on their back.
The subcommander watched the mortars land with accuracy and completely obliterate the corrupted along with the structures and the street in a hundred meter circle.
The growing problem was momentarily solved so the subcommander cycled through the projections in search of others.
To the south of the station was a single, wide street lined by tightly packed structures.
A mixed squad of soldiers, eight standard and four heavy poured projectile fire from recoilless rifles and shoulder-mounted miniguns. Drones streamed in and out of the station ferrying ammunition. It was necessary since the soldiers had to keep up a near constant rate of fire to keep the corrupted back.
The dead carpeted the street and were beginning to pile up in a wall some thirty meters from the firing line.
In a display that defied Threnosh science, Winding Myriad launched a bolt of bright lightning from their staff weapon that struck a corrupted and continued to branch out in an apparently random fashion as it scorched several other corrupted.
The east side of the station was faced with two streets that converged into one. Both streets had been been filled with Rodinian’s traps, followed by hundreds of combat drones. Those measures had been mostly expended as the corrupted forced their way down the street despite atrocious losses.
Adahn was surround by multiple ranks of the tracked combat drones as they poured projectile fire into the corrupted funneling down the narrow street.
The Threnosh had further modified their exoskeleton harness with additional weapons. In addition to their two bladed arms, two shield arms and two recoilless rifle arms, they had added an arm that launched explosive grenades and an arm with an E.W.S. laser weapon.
Adahn fired projectiles and lobbed grenades, all while bothering the subcommander by directly taking control of several resupply drones and tasking them with delivering ammunition outside of the proper chain of command.
The west side was much the same. A narrow street funneled the corrupted into Rodinian’s traps and combat drones. Half a squad of the subcommander’s soldiers along with two E.W.S. soldiers behind the latter’s deployable energy shields fired their weapons with their backs to the station. The E.W.S. soldiers were more judicious with their weaponry, since those were more fickle and required an energy source or ammunition in short supply.
They had difficulties in adapting the older fabrication facilities to the manufacture of the new technology.
The north side almost mirrored the defensive disposition of the east side.
With one exception.
Maul added their firepower to help thin out the corrupted swarm filling three wide streets leading to the security station.
Aerial combat drones circled the station and fired projectiles down on the corrupted, but they were relatively few in number and their impact was minimal. For every one corrupted they managed to kill more came from it seemed like everywhere in what should’ve been a dead city.
They were holding. Somehow they were holding, but the subcommander saw it plainly.
The corrupted were getting closer to their firing lines.
The combat drones were no longer able to cede ground and the corrupted were swarming and tearing apart the ones on the outer edges of their defenses.
“To all defenders. We cannot lose this security station. It will lead to a collapse of the entire outer edge of our controlled territory. Additionally, the enemy will obtain a direct line of attack to the center of the next tier of our city sections. Fight.” Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 had to tried to emulate Honor’s speeches.
“Adequate effort,” Subcommander Solemn Coast 963 said.
“I disagree,” Rodinian said.
“Agreed. Honor puts more of that thing he calls emotion into his words of exhortation,” Drega Tali said.
“That is not the Threnosh way,” Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 said flatly. They spoke truth and that was all.
“I do not believe that the Threnosh way is enough to triumph in this battle,” Drega Tali said. “Probability suggests our defeat will come, even if it will take time. Logic dictates that victory can only be achieved in an un-Threnosh way.”
“Honor’s way has defied probability on many occasions,” Rodinian said.
“Honor is absent,” Subcommander Solemn Coast 963 said.
“But we, the T-Men, are here,” Drega Tali said with conviction.
“A poor lot, a foolish lot.”
An unfamiliar voice suddenly filled the command chamber. It echoed all around them.
The four Threnosh swiftly covered the four quadrants of the chamber with their recoilless rifles.
“Show yourself, Inheritor, there is no place to hide,” Rodinian said.
“I am one with the shadows,” the voice said grimly.
A smoke bomb suddenly exploded in their mist. Thick and dark it covered them quickly.
Something moved among them, striking.
Subcommander Tioga Blue 653 saw a target outlined in their faceplate’s targeting system. They snapped off a burst, but the figure ducked and obscured the subcommander’s vision with a voluminous cape, before kicking the subcommander in the stomach and knocking them to the ground.
Subcommander Solemn Coast 963 fared worse as bladed stars spun out of the smoke to strike them in the throat. The sharp tips pierced through their power armor to nick their fragile throat within.
“Subcommander is down, cover me, Rodinian.” Drega Tali rushed to the fallen subcommander’s side. Their repair and healing implements immediately went to work on Subcommander Solemn Coast 963.
Rodinian had a hunch. They fired a sustained burst around Drega Tali and were reward by a pained sound.
Their faceplate couldn’t acquire a target, so they decided to cast a wide net.
They pulled a stasis trap from the compartment at their side and threw the small disk where they thought the sounds had come from.
Rodinian sighted down the barrel of their recoilless rifle as they waited for the smoke to dissipate.
Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 had picked themselves up and joined them.
The smoke cleared to reveal what was clearly an Inheritor suspended in Rodinian’s stasis trap.
The Inheritor was about the same size as Rodinian in their power armor. It had a dark gray helmet shaped like a predatory avian and a dark gray cloak that resembled a ratacan’s fleshy wings. Its body was covered in thin, armor plates of the same color. Everything looked as if they were parts of the Inheritor’s body rather than clothing.
“You cannot hold the darkness,” the Inheritor intoned.
“I do not understand,” Rodinian frowned, confused. “That is exactly what I have done if you are referring to yourself as the darkness. Although, your coloration is gray, not black. Darkness implies the latter.”
“You cannot stop the darkness. The shadow falls on all.”
“It will provide valuable intelligence upon interrogation,” Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 said.
“My stasis trap will not last much longer and I have no other means to restrain it,” Rodinian said.
“The Inheritor is a dangerous opponent,” Drega Tali said without looking up from their work on Subcommander Solemn Coast 963.
“Then we have one course of action,” Subcommander Tioga Blue 653 said.
“Termination,” Rodinian agreed.
They peppered the Inheritor with recoilless rifle fire until it displayed no further life signs.
“This is Adahn. Corrupted surging on my position, requesting assistance!” The voice was panicked over the comms.
“E.W.S. Soldier Radiant Canyon 7 at west defensive position. Enemy numbers increased. Combat drone lines 5 and 4 have been overwhelmed. Assistance required.” The voice was calm, toneless.
“Winding Myriad, here. Corrupted are swarming over the buildings. I am running low on energy. Our position will be overrun shortly.” The voice was almost drowned out by the sounds of crackling lightning bolts scorching through the air.
Subcommander Tioga Blue 653 watched it all unfold in the holographic projections.
There was no other choice.
“All forces retreat into the security station if capable.”
The battle had turned in an instant.
----------------------------------------
Now, Earth
“Go left…”
Hanna didn’t like how weak Alexa’s voice sounded, but she followed the other woman’s instructions and took the left fork in the tunnel.
The group traveled down the dim, dank tunnel with its strange spiral-like pattern roughly carved into the dark stone surfaces.
What felt like hours had passed.
Hanna glanced at her watch. It was kinetically powered. The time probably wasn’t all that accurate, but its hands ticked away properly.
Fifteen minutes had passed.
Hanna was setting a quick pace.
Nila, Megan and Veronica had about a thirty minute head start.
Her group need to go faster to catch up. Luckily, they had Alexa, who was somehow able to lead them down the right path with her strange Eldritch Sense ability.
Hanna suddenly stopped.
“Olo… when did the scenery change?”
“I… don’t know…” the big young man carried Alexa piggyback style.
The tunnel floor was now tiled and the wall was covered in strange carvings.
“Don’t…” Alexa said weakly.
“What—” Hanna made the mistake of taking a closer look at the things carved into the wall.
She promptly doubled over and vomited.
Olo shut his eyes. “Don’t look at the walls or ground!”
From the sounds and smells coming from down the formation a few others hadn’t gotten the warning in time.
Hanna took a moment, but straightened quickly. She wiped her mouth took a swig of water from her bottle and spat out the foul bits.
“Anyone that needs it, take a few seconds, but we need to keep moving,” Hanna said. “Alexa, can you do anything about this,” she gestured toward the walls, while fixing her eyes down the dimly-lit tunnel.
“No… sorry… it’s… inside…” Alexa’s eyes were squeezed shut.
The woman didn’t elaborate and Hanna didn’t press her.
“Alright, we keep going!” Hanna barked.
The group continued deeper into the tunnel.
“I think we screwed up, dude,” Johnny whispered.
Gene didn’t reply. He was busy swishing the gross chunks out of his mouth with water. He was also having second thoughts. Shame had motivated him to jump up and volunteer to go along when Hanna’s group had reached the tunnel entrance back at the cult’s fort. The way he had looked away with fear when Nila, Megan and Veronica had descended into the deep dark had eaten away at him. He had abandoned Tessa and Veronica, his friends, to their fates because of his fear.
“What if us coming along is just what they wanted?” Johnny continued.
“They… who is they?” Mads hissed.
“I don’t know. The spires? The Deep Azure?” Johnny shrugged. “I’m just saying that it’s suspicious that as soon as we come along with we get a Quest.”
“Help with the rescue and survive,” Bastien said weakly. His face was drawn and pale. It had grown progressively worse the deeper they had ventured into the tunnels. Staring at the carvings on the wall hadn’t helped.
“More concerned about the fail conditions. ‘Death or a fate worse than death’… c’mon, my dudes, that doesn’t worry you guys?” Johnny said. Louder than he intended.
“Quiet, man!” Gene hissed. “We don’t know who or what is up ahead. You might’ve just let them know we’re coming.”
“Shit, sorry, my bad, but my points still stand.”
“So, what do you want to do? Go back?” Gene knew that was off the table. They were in too deep and with all the different turns Alexa led them on it was too easy to get lost on their way back. “We’re not alone down here. All the dead fishmen we’ve come across is evidence enough of that.”
“So, they’re dead. Gross, but can’t hurt us,” Johnny said.
“Dumbass,” Mads scoffed.
Johnny shot her the finger.
“The corpses mean two things. One: the fishmen are in these tunnels. We’ve no idea when we might run into them. Two: our guys are obviously still alive and fighting. Whether it’s Tessa or Veronica’s group, it means that they still need our help.”
“Doesn’t look that way,” Johnny grumbled, but stopped complaining, at least out loud.
Silence descended once again.
Keisha pretended she hadn’t heard the kids bickering. She got it. They were scared and sometimes one needed to voice concerns to get that nerves out. It wasn’t good to let nervousness eat away inside you. Made you tense. Wasted energy.
She was a good example of that. Bringing up the rear, she felt a prickling on the back of her neck that at the beginning had her looking over her shoulder every few steps.
She stopped with that nonsense and trusted in her group’s varied abilities to detect potential danger. Alexa, Bastien and Max, ahead of her all had some kind of ability to sense threats. Keisha decided to trust them, along with her own.
She silenced that fear of what lurked in the darkness in her immediate vicinity.
She couldn’t do the same to the voice in the back of her mind that said that she would never see her dead grandmother again. That to continue into the tunnel meant a fate worse than death, unless she submitted. That heaven was a lie and her grandmother wasn’t waiting.
“Shut up,” Keisha muttered.
Her grandmother didn’t raise her to be weak-minded. She was raised to be strong, to believe in herself no matter what the voices said.
“You alright, K?” Max said.
“Yeah.”
“Good, cause you’re literally watching my back. I know you’ve probably got some weird shit going on in your head… I’ve got the same issue. Doing my best to ignore it.”
“Same,” Keisha grunted.
She wasn’t in the mood for conversation, so she kept quiet. Max took the hint.
The group walked through the tunnel, doing their best to keep their eyes directly in front of them and off the disturbing, nauseating carvings in the walls and on the ground.
Twists and turns confronted them, but Alexa rallied enough of her dwindling strength to point the way with conviction.
Until they finally reached a door.
“That looks new-ish,” Gene said.
“Like straight from a prison or a bank vault,” Olo agreed.
Hanna checked her watch. “The last turn was twenty minutes ago… Alexa, are you sure this is the right way?”
“Yes,” Alexa groaned.
Hanna carefully tested the handle with the pommel of her sword. It looked safe so she cautiously grabbed it and pulled. “Locked.”
“I got this,” Johnny stepped forward with his lock picking tools. It didn’t take long before a click echoed through the tunnel. “Courtesy of Enhanced Dexterity,” he grinned.
Hanna unceremoniously moved Johnny out of the way and pushed the door open.
She stepped into something out of her nightmares.
It was a dungeon, dimly lit by the same fluorescent mossy substance scattered throughout the entire tunnel network.
People were packed in cages, not cells.
No, definitely not the latter.
The people were listless and kept their heads down as they sat on the ground. The cages being too short to allow an adult human the ability to stand.
“Oh shit! Del?” Max rushed over to a cage on their left.
Keisha was just a step behind.
“Max? Keisha?” Del raised his head. His face was dirty and bloody.
Keisha searched the faces in the cage. She didn’t recognize anyone else. She searched the cage on the other side of the chamber. The same.
“Where’s Rory?” Keisha hoped, but the voice in her head told her it was foolish.
Del’s gaze dropped back to the floor. “The cult fucks took him yesterday. Then… then—” he burst into tears.
“Ritual torture, at least that’s what they said is going to happen to all of us eventually,” a gruff voice spoke from the back of the second cage.
“Captain Hamill,” Hanna recognized him immediately. She noticed Jimenez and a couple of other soldiers. Less than ten.
“They caught us,” Captain Hamill sighed. “And now we wait for our turns.”
“How do you know? The torture, I mean,” Gene gulped.
Jimenez pointed at a vent on the wall near the ceiling. “They let us listen,” she said in a small, broken voice.
“Apparently, whatever they’re getting out of the ritual the better it is if we’re full of fear and despair. Just the worst kinds of emotions and the pain, of course,” Captain Hamill laughed bitterly.
“Fuck that bullshit!” Max snapped. “We’re getting you out of there, Del,” he gestured for Johnny, “get this shit open!”
Johnny hurried over.
“What does it matter,” Del sobbed. “Rory’s gone… I don’t care anymore, just let me go to him.”
“Bullshit!” Keisha banged her hammer on the iron bars. “You think he’d want that garbage for you?”
Del said nothing.
“He’s not wrong,” Captain Hamill said. “Look at us. We’re spent. No weapons, used up all our magic. We’ll only slow you down, whatever it is you’re planning to do.”
“Maybe, but we’re not leaving you locked up in here,” Hanna said. “If you don’t care about your lives anymore, then maybe you can be meatshields for the rest of us. We’re the ones actually going to get things done and take it to the cult and the fishmen… or you can fight too. Seems like an easy choice to me.”
“You didn’t hear what we did,” Captain Hamill said.
Sounds drifted in through the vent.
Yelling, screaming, dying.
“Oh my god! That’s horrible,” Olo shivered.
“No… wait,” Captain Hamill’s ear’s perked up. “That doesn’t sound like torture. It sounds like—”
“Battle,” Hanna said. “Johnny, hurry up and get these cages open. We’re close.”
The soldiers and Resistance members in the cages stirred. The fear didn’t leave their eyes, but there was a spark of something. As if they were waking up from a nightmare.