The mouth of a cave looked exactly as he remembered it. It was a large hole of right angles that reassured him that it was not created by nature but by the hands and tools of skilled artisans. Carvings surrounded the cave entrance - strange angular signs that perhaps were once words, yet time wore them down to but a remnant of their former glory.

Iarvahr looked above the cave and basked in the glory of the majestic wall above it. Once, he was intimidated by it - the tales of Glaerians told of flame-spewing machines that obliterated anyone that dared to venture closer. Now, he felt a connection with the flame-spitters. He felt them, and he knew they felt him, he knew that they even recognized him - or, more accurately, the devices embedded into his back.

What exactly are those projectors, I wonder… He thought to himself, only to throw such thoughts away as not important. What was important was his quest, his goal to revive Leonie, and he knew that the answer laid in front of him.

As he neared the entrance, his mind felt somewhat lighter, as if a huge burden that laid upon him dropped pebble by pebble from inside of his head. He passed through the entrance, wondering if the insides of the cave complex will be just the same as he remembered it…

A freezing sensation ran across his body as if he jumped to an icy lake. He started to shake feverishly, madly looking around himself to find a source of that sensation. It all happened just as he walked through the entryway and he noticed small blinking green lights above him in the ceiling, but other than that, there was nothing…

There was literally nothing. The presence of projectors faded away from his mind as the metallic arms lifelessly collapsed on the ground, pulling heavily on the skin and bones in his back. He tried to move them, but they did not move an inch however much he willed them to.

He blinked in surprise and felt as if he just woke up from a nightmare. It was as if just now, he remembered all the vile things he had done on his way here - attacking his own friend, killing his own people in Citadel, killing all the innocent people on his way here…

He fell to his knees and vomited. The projectors affected him heavily, clouding his judgment, twisting his mind… Tears streamed down his cheeks, his body spasming uncontrollably as if he tried to vomit all the evil he had caused away from himself…

After a short while, he came together and looked around slowly. I’m here. This is what I wanted, isn’t it? It was too late now to undo what he had done. He did it all to bring Leone back, and now, he was here…

Iarvahr got up on his shaky legs, and pressed forward. In front of him, he remembered an entrance to a large hall where most of the fighting happened. Iarvahr entered the room cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest as he beheld the grim sight before him. The air was thick with the stench of blood, piss and shit, and the dim lights hanging from the ceiling cast deep shadows across the floor littered with the twisted forms of corpses - the bodies of the deformed, their limbs contorted in unnatural angles, their faces frozen in expressions of agony.

His stomach churned at the sight, bile rising in his throat once more. He forced himself to focus, pushing past the waves of sickness and disgust. He needed to hold on to the last bits of sanity to find answers he needed in all this madness.

Something was wrong. Months have passed since he came here, yet the bodies here seemed as if they were freshly cut down. These could not have been the deformed he left here…

The unnatural met impossible with each step he took. Either these were corpses of fresh mutants, or something prevented them from decomposing, which would mean that her body would still be here, in the same state he left her…

He combed through the piles of dead bodies frantically, looking for one particular body, yet she was missing. There was no sign of her among the dead, no trace of her delicate features or the deep wound in her throat. Panic clawed at his chest, threatening to overwhelm him as he frantically called out her name, his voice echoing off the cold, stone walls.

"Leonie! Where are you?" he cried, his words ringing hollow in the silence of the chamber. “I am here! Just as you wanted!” But there was no answer, no voice to reassure him that came to the right place, that all that he did was not in vain.

“She’s not here…” He muttered to himself, tears once again running down his face.

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The projectors were dead in here, and he had no idea how to continue what he had started. A choice was in front of him. He could return outside, where the projectors might work once again, yet he would lose control once again… Or he could search through these tunnels unaided and alone, hoping for the best.

His stomach churned and Iarvahr realized that he had not eaten for days. The projectors pumped him with drained energy, yet now, he felt as hungry as never before. Quickly, he threw his backpack down and scurried through rations, only to realize that there weren’t any. Dismayed, he realized that he would need to leave this cave and find some food in order to survive… But what if as soon as he left this place, the projectors would take control over him and force him to return here?

With a heavy sigh that only the dead would hear, he closed his eyes and tried to calm down. Everything was wrong. He was supposed to heal people, to help people and instead, he brought only death and destruction. Leonie, Suranihr, those people that he killed on the way here… Maybe if he brought Leonie back, he could bring more people back. Maybe, somehow, he would be able to heal the death!

Sudden burst of mirth did not last long. He had no idea how to bring her back, and if the projectors did not work here, he doubted that she would commune with him in his dreams…

Smile spread across his face. She spoke to me even before I had these things in me… he realized, as he laid down next to a dotted wall that eroded in time. Calm down, focus. Close your eyes, and try to sleep. She will surely come…

***

“So, that rifle you had…” Suranihr began talking to break the long silence that hung around the small campfire. Naira looked at him questionably, but did not answer in any other way.

“Did you make it?” He asked, and Naira nodded. “I did. Why?”

“It seems… highly advanced. I’m used to revolving guns, but that thing of yours… I’ve seen you disassemble it and clean it and at a first glance, it looked like you had disassembled a rifle only to be left with a short pistol.”

She nodded, and after a brief thought, she took it out of her leather holster and handed Basilisk over to him. He took the weapon with utmost care, surprised by how light it was. “It weighs barely more than a dagger. How?”

“My… late husband devised a special alloy. I will not bother you with details, but it is as strong and durable as a quenched steel, yet weighs only a fraction compared to it.”

“So you’ve been married.” He muttered while admiring the masterwork. The handle was a combination of wood and metal with a delicately engraved head of lizard on the wooden part. The barrel was long and thick, reminding him more of a naval one-shot hand cannon than a multi-shot gun. As he noticed more and more details, his respect towards Naira grew.

“Yes.” She nodded. “But we are not talking about our love lives, we are discussing weapons. What are you using?” She asked with genuine interest. Suranihr chuckled and handed over his own weapons to her. Before she could take them, a soul-tearing scream woke them up and Naira’s gauntlets sent a trembling sensation through her arms. “Something is wrong.” She shouted while springing up, followed closely by Suranihr. Other people ran out of their tents, looking around wildly, seeking imminent danger.

It took merely a second, yet they found Auria sitting in her bed, trembling and holding her head in her hands. She moaned painfully as she rocked her body forwards and backwards.

“Auria, are you…” Suranihr’s words were cut off by a stream of black bile that splashed out from Auria’s mouth. He had no idea what to do and by the looks of it, Naira was also helpless. Other people ran inside the large tent - to his shame, Suranihr did not bother remembering their names - yet just as quickly as they came, the sight of black bile accompanied by a sulfurous smell made them quickly back out.

“Give… me…” Auria moaned as she looked at them with widely open eyes. No longer holding her head, she clawed at the black veins in her face and body, scratching her skin almost to blood. “Give… It…”

After a brief consideration, Naira jumped to Auria’s medical bag and quickly rummaged through it until she found a vial filled with thick grayish liquid. She quickly opened it and took a little of the liquid into an empty syringe she found. She handed the syringe over to Auria, yet her trembling hands could not hold it and the syringe fell and broke apart.

She moaned loudly, pressing her nails deeply into the skin on her face. “You… do…”

Naira shook her head slowly. “I… I cannot.”

“Naira!” Auria screamed wildly. “Do… it!” Yet Naira did not move. She looked at Suranihr, begging him with her eyes to do it instead of her and he nodded, quickly repeating the process of filling up another syringe. “Where?” He asked Auria. Her body trembled, yet she was able to raise her black-veined hand. “Vein…” a single moan came out of her, as Naira took her right hand and forcibly held it to stop the trembling movements. Suranihr muttered a curse under his breath and slowly pushed the needle through Auria’s skin right into the dark vein. He pressed all the liquid into her body and she sighed in relief as the potent narcotics quickly overcame pain receptors in her body. Her body fell back into a cushioned bedroll. “Thanks…” She whispered softly. “Can you… bring me some food?”

Naira nodded and looked at Suranihr. “I also thank you.” She growled as she paced out of the tent in search of rations. Suranihr sighed. “Auria, what the fuck is all this? What the fuck is happening, all around us?” He sat down heavily next to her and lit up his pipe. Auria smiled widely, her gaze softened by narcotic bliss. “This is my life, Suranihr. Get used to it if you want to travel with me.”

He looked at her, staring intently into her eyes. “Pain, bile, blood, death, fear… You have a shitty life, if you ask me.”

In response, she only laughed.