"So, the astral map in your head is keeping track of where we have been in the real world?" Whiskey asked, she and her scouts taking point on every doorway and passage the team encountered.

"I think? I am not literally seeing these boxes. Right? It's more like I see faint traces of shapes and information. Until I really focus on what the System tells me. It's like having another head, but one I can use in a predictable way," Zan told his friends as they fought down a lengthy hallway.

"I am not sure if 'astral' is what you are seeing when you look at these info-graphic visualizations. It sounds more like this headset is hijacking your mind, creating temporary illusions in your head based on pre-existing protocols. I remember you telling me about the 'programming' stuff, is that it?"

Zan considered Whiskey's response. "I really don't know," Zan said, switching places with one of Whiskey's scouts so she could exert herself less.

"Doesn't it bother you stuff like this headset -- and the other stuff you've told me, like the horn? Or your fire belly? -- has become so crucial to your survival yet you don't really know how it works?" Whiskey asked of Zan's dual-nature, part-human, part-crystal parasite, part headset?

"Not really... what else is there? To oppose the Expanse, I mean. It was either this or pray I made it in time to a royal outpost and joined up with the royal army. Based on what I saw with Winters men when he had me test command a unit of his men, I don't prefer that sort of action. Seeing as how this Order has been sleeping for a while, and my need to make an impact, I figure it is the best of both worlds if I can't join the army."

Whiskey dashed forward and slid to a halt underneath a large box, firing off an arrow toward two golems. She collected her bows and asked, "You sure do think things through, Zan."

"I do? What's that supposed to mean?" Zan asked, him rushing in Whiskey's wake to charge the enemy using his bike. Zan skid into the golems and sent them flying through the air. Zan hastily disassembled his bike and worked himself into his conservative fighting style based on defense and waiting for openings in the enemy's move-set.

"I'm only saying, you think things. Focus on the enemy," Whiskey said, urging Zan to use a smoke grenade to give them breathing room as they advanced down the hallway. "I need water," Whiskey said, Zan moving in to defend her while she took a drink.

Gulp. "That finishes my water. I'm good to return to battle." Whiskey changed her weapon loadout from twin-blades to a single short-blade and buckler.

Zan looked at what they had left to tackle once they came out of the smoke. Zan used more of his magic. A couple bursts of fire and follow up attacks with his sword and two gold-golems fell alongside a small host of basic automotrons. Beyond the enemies they just smote, lay a gagged throng of golems swarming against a large door. Using his seeing-lens, Zan caught glimpse of a beleaguered local guard gaggle bravely holding the line.

"There's a group of guards at the end of this hallway. Can everyone see?" Zan said, urging them to use their seeing lenses respectively.

Everyone confirmed. "We need to get to them soon, then. We don't know how the battle outside is going and how much of the besieging force has been committed to the assault. We may yet face incredible odds. Let's not waste time then with pacing ourselves."

Zan concurred and urged everyone forward, back in formation.

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The remaining enemies continued their assault oblivious to the enemy force to their rear until it was too late.

Whiskey's Scouts punched tactical holes in any tough golem group they encountered while Jiehong blasted those holes. Flick. Flick -- goes the nimble the fly of an arrow, then the smash of Jiehong's fist and axe. Seeing in action the scouts strategically target golem joints impressed Zan. They gave him insight into how best to slay a golem.

After Jiehong punched the hole, It was up to Zan to deal with the stragglers while Whiskey dealt with any golems Zan missed.

Zan, then, always had a golem to fight: if Jiehong and the Scouts cleared a path for them and took out a handy few while doing it, that only made Zan's job harder since the value in the formation was in disrupting enemy formations. If Zan did not deal with the enemies at a time, they might reforge their defensive formations. If that happened, the battle would slow. Precious energy would need to be wasted in dealing with their renewed defense.

"Jiehong! I need my breath!" Zan shouted and coughed.

Jiehong and the scouts slowed their assault. "We're at the final group now, anyway," Whiskey said. Jiehong! Pull back for a few moments. There is another platinum golem ahead and we need to be wise in dealing with it."

Jiehong grunted but relented. Sweat rolled off his body sometimes sending small showers to the floor. Zan could not tell if the Scouts were exhausted. Whiskey was tired, Zan knew. Turning his attention back to his friend, Zan wondered if he had tussled himself into a blind battle rage? He had heard of it happening in the thick of battle. Village elders would speak of their military days and how men would turn 'frantic' in the rage of war. He would keep an eye on Jiehong.

Drinking from his water sieve, Zan ran out of water himself. The scouts shared with Whiskey. Though Zan suspected they too were out once they filled their thirst. Watching as an enemy wall -- or perhaps 'brick' as Zan sometimes thought when he saw a phalanx of enemies approach -- Zan's head raced with ideas. "Guys. How to deal with that plat-golem? I was thinking a smoke grenade. Then an actual grenade?"

"I think a couple of smokes and a couple of regular grenades," Jiehong said. "Then I will use my 'earthshaker' incantation to handle the rest."

"Okay, let's do it. Smoke on my cue, Jiehong!" Zan said, having his answer and so knowing it needed implementation.

Jiehong and Zan each threw a smoke grenade when Zan counted to three. The smoke grenades clattered to a halt within the enemy formations and began to emit their cloud-like mist. By the time the smoke poured out, the boys, Zan and Jiehong, already had their shrapnel grenades flying through the air. Seeing an opening, Zan quickly shouted to the scouts, "Keep your eyes on the enemy! Once the grenades go off, rain down whatever you have on the platinum-golem!"

With a mighty bang the grenades exploded.

Then, having heard and understood Zan, the scouts let loose a flurry of arrows Zan did not know if they could actually spare. But spare they had! For the golem group survived the dual-explosion eruption. Not well but survived; pieces of automotrons were all throughout the hallway while certain pieces had gone as far as having been flung dangerously through the hallway, bouncing around like perverse puddy. Once the arrows rained down, targeting those suspected weak joints in the platinum-golem, the situation calmed. The arrows caused a certain part of the plat-golem to 'de-glove,' so to speak, and cause its armored plating to slack off, falling to the ground with a clank. Zan finished the golem off by targeting its mechy-insides with a simple flame burst spell. Though the flame burst melted much of its insides and caused sparks to start other fires, the golem refused to die! "Argh! What in the fecking-feck?!" Zan yelled. Jiehong filled the gap and took the real killing blow. He tightly gripped his axe. Stepped forward. And with a single powerful swing, decapitated it. With its head and part of its magical core damaged, Jiehong took the final blow and thrust the blunted tip of his war-axe into the golem, causing it to burst wide open, its many component parts scattered to the winds. Finally. Their second encountered platinum golem was defeated.

Huffing, puffing, desperate for air, Zan called out, "Everyone good?"

With the enemies before them decommissioned, Zan as leader, approached the defending guards.

The guards, on the verge of death themselves, with some of them looking little better than the bloodied remains of a slaughtered calf, asked of Zan, "Who the feck are you guys?"

But Zan did not have an answer for them. He shrugged his shoulders and simply said, "We're here to help. Now, where is the viceroy?"