“We’re going in there?” Alex said, covering his eyes against the harsh rays of the afternoon sun.

Sergeant Campbell had promptly led the unit an additional two hours north of Reliquia, following a dirt track that served as a highway for local cattle, sheep and horses. Mud stirred liberally from hoofprints, sodden from the evening rain, seeped into their boots and trousers as they stomped along the path. A light drizzle tackled the task of wetting their upper halves until they arrived at the base of a hill.

“I hate the underground ones.” Lyra whispered, squinting her eyes as she stared into the pitch-black opening.

Their journey ended at a derelict stulm, rotting wood and a smattering of rusted tools lining the entrance to the mineshaft. An old, cast-iron lantern hung from a wooden beam over the entryway, though even from here Alex knew the thing contained no oil. Campbell clapped his hands as the unit stared into the gaping maw with varying degrees of anticipation and trepidation.

“That’s right. Abandoned mines are a classic place for infestations to take root, especially exhausted iron veins like this.” Campbell said.

A small flame appeared before his mouth which the sergeant lightly blew in the direction of the mineshaft. The flame, twice the size of a candlelight, darted forward until it illuminated the immediate entrance to the mine. Shadows flickered across the reinforced dirt walls, revealing nothing but a long corridor leading deeper into the bowels of the hill, and he sighed.

“Never that easy. Alera, what are we dealing with?”

Lance Alera strolled over to the hill itself, setting her palm against the dirt and taking a deep breath. Frowning, her brow dipped while she murmured inaudibly to herself. She continued this for nearly a minute, mouth twisting, before she stepped back and rubbed her neck. A darted glance to Campbell betrayed hesitation.

“There’s a lot of ambient quintessence down there, boss. Scattered life signs down to what I think is the third level, but I can’t look deeper. Whatever’s living here, they didn’t move in over the last two weeks.” Alera said.

“How long?” Sadir asked, staring unblinkingly at the entrance.

“At least three months, though it’d have to be a big one to be that quick.” Alera said.

“Joy. Looks like plenty of paperwork for me when we get back. Damned layabouts.” Campbell said, rubbing his forehead. “Doesn’t change our mission, though. Reliquia’s only lost some cattle and a hermit shepherd so far, but that can change quickly.”

“What’s down there? I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d like to know what I’m walking into first.” Alex said, looking between the three most senior members of the unit.

A momentary lull expanded in the discussion while everyone regarded the entrance. Tirus rubbed the stubble at his chin.

“Metaspiders?” Tirus suggested.

“Boss said it’s an exhausted iron vein. My bet’s on Cryssanants. They love tunnels.” Smit said, tapping the hilt of a dagger.

“Field manual lists Borevines as the most common subterranean threat.” Lyra said.

“Not if they’re hunting cattle.” Smither said, arms crossed. “Ferrisioids.”

“This is a long list of things that might want to kill us.” Alex said, staring at the entrance himself.

“Welcome to the army.” Campbell said, chuckling. “I can think of at least thirty species of cave-dwelling monsters. Sadly, we’re just gonna have to figure it out as we go.”

Alex took a moment to double check his supplies. The quartermaster had filled two requisitions the previous night. The first entailed the equipment he required as a new enlistee, his armour, weaponry, and a copy of his unit roster and field manual. The second had been designed for this excursion; his pack contained three days of travel rations, a compass, two waterskins, basic medical supplies and a torch. His own contribution had been his mother’s crystal stele, because leaving that in the barracks led nowhere good.

He tried to retrieve the torch, but a wave of the hand from Tirus stopped him short.

“No need for that yet.” Tirus said, snapping his fingers. A small flame hovered over the man’s shoulder, joined by another above Alex’s own. “Boss and I will handle lighting for now.”

“Weapons out, squad. We’re moving.” Campbell said.

***

Order manifested as the group marched into the earthen tunnels, clumped in a tight formation to keep them within range of their Evoker’s lighting. Smither and Sadir formed the vanguard, the Imbuer Corporal raising a sword and shield similar to Alex’s own, while Smither drew no weapons at all. Following close behind, Alex, Lyra and Smit held their own weapons up - Lyra wielding a lengthy spear, and Smit twirling daggers akimbo.

The rear of their formation saw Campbell and Tirus flanking Alera, who herself had drawn a bow and shouldered a quiver of arrows.

“First rule of engagement, Private,” Campbell whispered behind Alex, eyes scanning their shadowed surroundings. “Keep your Ruler safe. Plenty of things that’ll kill you in one good shot without a Ruler to soften the blow.”

Alex raised his shield, covering a little more of the space between his shoulder and Lyra’s. He’d seen what a Ruler could do when the fleet landed at Seaport, how the enemy’s Rulers had torn apart the Silver-ranked projectiles of the town’s old quincannons. Ruler lore had never been his specialty, and the only skilled Ruler in Seaport had been Master Redcliffe, the notoriously isolated Crystal Master. He would have had better luck sifting gold from the sea.

The unit stomped forward under the dim illumination of ‘faerielights’, the official terminology for Tirus and Campbell’s technique. Moving through the first floor, they encountered nothing until they reached the mineshaft, where a rickety wooden elevator provided their means of descent. Sadir stepped up to the contraption.

“Are we really going to trust this thing with our weight?” Alex said.

“No. I could use some help, though.” Sadir said, setting his hand against the rotting wood.

Under the stares of Campbell and Alera, Alex walked over to the elevator, positioning himself on the opposite side to Sadir. He placed his own palm on the wood and looked at the other man, raising an eyebrow.

“Earth?” Alex said.

“Earth and Air. Durability and featherweight imbuements. You know how to dual-channel?” Sadir said.

Alex nodded, coaxing power from his core. His evolution to Bronze had made his energy far more responsive compared to Iron, so it required little effort to draw forth his quintessence. Relying on his training with Barker, he stripped the neutral energy into two strands - Earth for the bulk, and Air to accent. He wound the Air-aspected energy around the Earth like a coiled wire around a metal bar, securing the attachment points while keeping them separated into two distinct energies, and imbued the mine shaft elevator.

Connected to the object, Sadir’s energy became tangible. The older man’s advanced skills made for a refined blend of energies, closer to a braided rope than Alex’s metal bar visualisation, and in greater quantities. Their respective energies slowly bled into the material, prioritising saturation over speed, until the two met in the middle.

The imbuement destabilised, and Sadir swore.

“Alex, we need to synchronise our intent. Damnit, nobody taught you how to do that, did they?” Sadir said.

They hadn’t. On the few occasions he’d collaborated on a project like this with his mother, this had never been a problem. Any work to be done was the product of a design plan that they both reviewed and understood entirely, so their synchronicity never conflicted. Fortunately, his tinker training covered the theory.

“Explain your thinking. I’ll adjust.” Alex said.

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“Stone atop earth, pushing down yet finding no give. Weightless above the void, no strain on the rope.” Sadir said.

Clear conflict. He hadn’t considered the rope. Alex’s eyes flickered to the pulley system that operated the elevator, taking note of the old, frayed rope that formed the centrepiece of the mechanism to suspend and control the device. He studied the strain on the rope for a single second, incorporating the connection into his imbuement, and the turbulent energies settled. In another moment, they mingled, and the imbuement was complete.

“Close. Sorry, Corporal Sadir. I didn’t think about the rope.” Alex said.

Sadir exhaled, then let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry, Private. I should have accounted for your inexperience. You did well, I would have blown the whole thing at Bronze.”

“Are we good?” Campbell said, eyes flicking between the pair.

“Yes, sir. The elevator is stable.” Sadir said.

“Then let’s move on.”

Little space made for a tight fit, so the unit bunched together ever closer as they stepped onto the device. A flick of Campbell’s finger wrapped a gust of air around the pulley’s lever, pulling it, and they began to descend. Decaying wood rattled and moaned beneath the strain, but Alex could feel their joint imbuement holding the contraption together. Smither looked a touch green though his indifferent countenance remained all the same.

After a blisteringly slow descent, the elevator shuddered as it contacted a wooden platform on the third level. They disembarked, reforming on the open ground, and Campbell jutted his chin toward Alera. She crouched down and rested a palm against the stone, eyes pressed closed.

“Damn. Whatever’s down here, boss, they’ve got a natural Ruler.” Alera said. “Powerful, too. I can’t sense further down than this. Either an interference specialist or a Gold-ranked monster.”

Smit swore, and their Evokers funnelled additional power into their faerielights. The dancing flames brightened until they covered the entirety of the small cavern that housed the elevator’s mechanisms. Three tunnels converged in the room, positioned roughly to the relative north, south, and east.

“Any hints on the threat?” Campbell asked.

“No, but…” Alera cocked her head, eyes closed. “We won’t be waiting long to find out. They’re coming. All life-signs on this floor are headed right for us from all directions.”

Shivers ran down Alex’s spine at the pronouncement. Not from fear, though his mind spewed a healthy amount of that, but trepidation. Alex hadn’t encountered a single monster since his run-in with the Feirwolf, the first life-or-death fight he’d ever been in, and another rose just over the horizon. His grip on the sword’s hilt tightened. For better or worse, this was his life now, and he would be ready for whatever might come.

“Sadir, Smit, Smither, east tunnel is yours. Alex, Evenil, Tirus, you take the north. Alera, support from the centre. I’ll hold the south.” Campbell ordered, spinning on his heel and marching for the vast opening in the stone.

The troop hastily obeyed, splitting into four groups and darting to their assigned positions. Lyra took the lead in her approach to the northern tunnel, moving slightly into the long corridor and flourishing her spear, holding it before her as if to impale anything that charged forward.

“Tirus, take the rear. Alex, cover him.” Lyra said, staring down the depths of the shaft.

“I’m technically higher in the pecking order, you know.” Tirus muttered, sliding into his assigned spot in the formation.

“Then you know this is standard doctrine. Augmenter front, Evoker back, Imbuer to intercept.” Lyra replied. “Alex, do you know your role?”

Alex grunted in confirmation. This exact scenario had been outlined in the field manual - often, combat units would divide into groups of three, with various compositions depending on the unit’s overall makeup. Augmenter-Imbuer-Evoker featured prominently among these, as did Augmenter-Augmenter-Imbuer - the formation covering the eastern tunnel. In the first formation, the Augmenter served as the bulwark against an initial charge while the Evoker released devastation from the rear. The Imbuer glued the pair together; his job entailed giving Tirus space to work, and assisting Lyra if the enemy started to overwhelm her. He could do this.

Alex pulled a healthy dose of power from his core, holding it in stasis for the right moment. Choosing the right energy formed the basis of an Imbuer’s tactical toolkit, and he couldn’t do that until he saw whatever lurked in the tunnels of the abandoned mine.

Staring into the impenetrable darkness of the passage, his right hand shivered. He tensed his left arm and raised the shield higher. The 119th waited in absolute silence, muted exhales stirring the stagnant underground air. Lyra spread out her feet, sinking lower to the ground like a snake in the grass, while Tirus drew a long breath.

Distant chirping shattered the shared quiet, instinctively raising hairs on Alex’s neck. It reverberated dully through the tunnels. Occasional shrill tones overpowered their sister sounds, echoing like shattered glass from the rock walls of the tunnel network, emanating from all directions. For every passing moment, these outliers multiplied, piercing enough to elicit a wince.

The noises converged. Terrifying chattering approached like a wall of nightmares, shrieking like a maiden. In the matter of a few seconds, they arrived.

Dark forms flew into the light in their multitudes, each twice the width of a man’s chest. Leathery wings the span of a handshake bore pill-shaped bodies through the air, guided by beady crimson eyes. Each creature’s mouth exposed a row of six ivory fangs, glinting unnaturally in the light of the fire.

Lyra swung her spear in a crescent arc, bisecting the first monster to enter her range in a single movement.

“Mitovampyria!” Alera shouted. “Rulers. Watch for bites!”

Alex tore Air-aspected energy from his held power, slamming every mote into his sword and shield. Flying Rulers relied on speed and agility, lacking physicality. The weightlessness imbuements took hold on both weapons, wind currents wrapping around them, and he shifted into Standard Form.

Lyra danced like a barricade before the horde of bat-like creatures, each precise swing ending a life. Her movements were unnaturally quick. Alex felt a draft as she kicked a leg forward to repel a monster; Air augmentation. Alex spotted Tirus gesturing like a maestro in the corner of his eye, and Mitovampyria that tried to dodge found their wings uncooperative, swooping into the path of her spear.

The first monster slipped the chokepoint, and Alex surged to meet it. He swung his sword, missing by an inch. Flapping its wings, it rose higher into the air, releasing a piercing screech and dive bombing toward him. Alex raised his shield in an instant, unburdened by the imbuement, and the monster’s extended fangs thudded into reinforced wood. He dropped to one knee and slammed the shield into the stone once, twice, three times - then stood up. The mutilated carcass of the creature remained stuck, but he turned back to the fight.

Tirus had abandoned Air, instead streaming Water-attuned energy into the tunnel, creating an icy veil that slowed the approaching onslaught. It forced Lyra back a step, but she didn’t falter; her spear continued to swing in arcs fuelled by her augmentation, graceful movements spearing and slicing those resistant to Tirus’ power. Sweat poured from her, and Alex realised she was slowing down.

Immediately after the thought registered, Lyra’s strike slipped by a group of three. They blew past her, escaping the curtain of cold, and released discordant shrieks that echoed throughout the room. As one, their sharp eyes fixed on Tirus.

Alex planted himself in front of the other man. If that ice evocation fell, then Lyra wouldn’t be able to keep up with their numbers. He understood the formation in a new way, now; he insured them against easy defeat. Two of the monsters switched their attention to Alex, but the third remained fixated on Tirus. They dove.

He briefly registered the stream of Tirus’ power thinning before a fireball struck the third monster dead-centre. A clap sounded from behind Alex as the other man refocused on the ice evocation, the stream returning to its previous size. With the rogue element smoking on the ground, he braced as the remaining two flashed forward.

Intercepting the leading Mitovampyria with his shield, Alex swung for the second, angling his blade to prevent evasion. His blade drew a thick line across the target’s right wing, slicing through bone, and it squealed. While it retreated, Alex pressed the attack. He swung the air-imbued sword with alarming alacrity toward the injured assailant and cut through, his blade slicing halfway through the torso before being halted by resistance.

Pain ripped through his forearm as the first monster latched on, driving its elongated fangs into his muscle. The power gathered to reinforce his imbuement dissipated in an instant, control vanishing, and the monster sucked the energy out of his arm. Vertigo clouded his mind at the sudden loss. Unbalanced, he stepped back to steady himself, and the monster flew back into the air.

His sword arm numbed, and he couldn’t channel energy through it. Panic flared in his mind. His internal energy had never failed him before, not once. Any attempt at moving power into his arm failed, as if it had turned to stone - and not the type he could imbue.

He shook his head. This was not the time. The sword contained about a quarter of the initial imbuement still, enough to sustain it for roughly ten seconds. In the worst case scenario, he would have to abandon the imbuement on his shield and use the gathered Air in his left arm to power the sword. A blow, but not enough to take him out of the fight.

Now airborne, the monster stared as he collected himself. The attack didn’t come. Instead, the monster’s wings furled inward, miraculously not disturbing its flight. It shook suspended in the air. A black mass erupted from its back.

Alex watched in disgust as something climbed free from the monster’s rear, like an egg sac bursting open. Coated in a clear, sticky fluid, two familiar red eyes broke through, followed by a pair of black wings. It pushed against the original monster and, with a sickening crack, took flight on its own.

Somehow, in an affront to natural law, the monster had duplicated itself.

Hovering side-by-side, the new monster clearly smaller than the original, twelve identical fangs shone. No trace of his blood remained on the teeth of the first. Together, they rose up and prepared to drop.

Crackling lightning struck the pair, arcing between their outstretched wings and frying them to a crisp. Their sizzling corpses hit the ground with a meaty smack, tar-coloured blood pooling on the ground, and Alex turned his head to the right.

Sergeant Campbell approached slowly without expression, eyes lidded. His eyes tracked the sergeant’s slow, inevitable steps forward. Campbell stopped behind Lyra, raising a hand.

Lightning jumped between his fingertips, popping in the open air, and the soldier released a slow breath.

In the space of a blink, five bolts hissed through the air. One-by-one, the swarm of Mitovampyria fell dead to the floor, until the passage filled with the desperate retreat of the scattered remnants.

Alex watched in disbelief.

I wish I could do that.