My eyes scan the dead Nahullo in shock as I recognize what Johnny is referring to. Nahullo are separated not by Sigil but instead strictly by their combat strength. They are a powerful, warring race simply because you need to kill to move up. Merely increasing in Sigil is not enough; you need to prove your strength against others of your race.

And Sentinels? These powerful Nahullo are taken away from that existence where only your strength matters for a specific purpose. To destroy any Motherbound. That is it. Sentinels are guardsmen of reality for the Nahullo, sacred warriors that all respect in their society regardless of their power.

Johnny steps forward as the others catch up and bends down, touching the part of the Nahullo that parades they are a Sentinel.

Dark, twisting, and gnarled brands of heated steel upon flesh wrap around each creature's body. The Nahullo are an odd race. They are deceitful, manipulative, and well-planning despite how their large sizes and warring nature may depict otherwise. But even amongst their race, some disregard politics, war, and even their own lives to protect—a rarity among any race.

Even we humans don't have groups like the Sentinels. Sure, we have people dedicated to killing any invaders, including Motherbound, the Watchmen. Still, those have been getting smaller and smaller over recent years as the Estates grow larger and take the defense of the inner Territories into their own hands.

They are among the few groups that merely reading about them invoked respect. We all gather around these corpses for a moment of solemn consideration as our eyes roam the dead humans and Sentinels. My heart sinks at the dead people as I hope I don't find someone among the bodies I know.

I spot some familiar faces, but none that I can put a name to. Blake, however, is not the same as I hear her gasp and walk over to a few dead people twisted into a gruesome display similar to a bouquet of flesh. Relief at not knowing anyone hits me while guilt does at the same time for thinking so.

I push away that thought from my mind as I kneel beside Johnny, the man talking to himself in such a way that I know it's a quote, the voice cold and detached. I see his hands slightly shaking upon a dead Nahullo man.

Should you see Sentinels alive, help them. Should you see Sentinels dead, run.

I also inspect the Nahullo, noting dozens of permanent scars, fatal injuries, and apparent Ether saturation of one going far beyond their limit, some parts of their bodies liquid and broken from the overuse of the substance.

The Sentinels. An ancient order among the Nahullo that has existed for longer than even the Hunters themselves, with each group member being trained from a young age in the ways of combat, Ether, and the Gods. They are raised in such a way that makes them immune to the control of Darklight from Motherbound. Apparently, the way to do so is gruesome and inhumane.

But, it is all for a good cause, even for mankind. They aim to fight against the forces of madness and chaos threatening to consume the world from deep below. This order sees itself as the guardian of order and stability and will stop at nothing to protect its people and their way of life. While the world wars around them, their focus is stalwart and unshakable. Humans have often allied with these Sentinels to kill Motherbound or Wendigos.

They are entirely different from the rest of their race. They do not desire warmer pastures, more food, or more luxury.

The aim of the Sentinels is to maintain a delicate balance between the Darklight that seeps from the Mother Below and the rest of the world. This small but mighty group of Nahullo is fiercely dedicated to their cause. It will never back down in the face of adversity. They see themselves as the last line of defense against the darkness and will lay down their lives to protect their people and the world from harm. This group of defenders even goes so far as to enter other regions and search for Motherbound within to slay.

It's respectable, admirable even, to me. That is a reason why I committed them to memory, and likely the same for Johnny. If there were more like this, both among humans and Pygmies, then the world would be a much safer place. But in front of us quietly lie twelve of them with the uncomfortable grace of death, an ill omen for the rest of our group. The few dozen dead people and Bado in front of us tainted by the Darklight are bad enough. But dead Sentinels? Each of these Nahullo with at least a 4th Sigil who all died to something they have trained their lives for?

As my brain runs through this situation's reality, I realize why Johnny is not looking at the dead bodies. He's hoping for any possibility that this is all there is. I try to shake the man out of his funk, but he moves before my hand even touches him, the man standing from his crouch and moving forward to the bodies.

His voice becomes detached once more as his eyes roam the dead bodies. Finally, I hear a click and a scratch as he pulls out and lights a match.

"We need to move on now. I don't want to rush your goodbye, Blake, but we don't have time. If Sentinels failed, then whatever here is bad. Real bad. A Manipulator is almost guaranteed. Maybe even a Fallen."

Silas whistles as he steps over some bodies toward the other side of the cave where another tunnel lies.

"A Fallen, you think? If that's the case, we might as well leave. No way any of your people are still alive then, Johnny."

My eyes go back and forth between them as a sniffling Blake approaches us, tears on her cheeks. I push down the question about Fallen and check on her.

"You alright, Blake?"

The woman goes to nod but then shakes her head. After she does so, she speaks to me and takes the match from Johnny before tossing it onto the bouquet of flesh.

"I–I… I… I'll be alright. I was in a group with two of the people over there before I advanced to my 4th Sigil. They didn't mind that I was leaving them, which is rare, and they were really kind about it. Saying things like I should do whatever is best for me. I vote we continue on. There is a high chance that the Motherbound is still here, and I want to kill it."

Johnny's face goes back and forth between us, his face stricken with grief, indecision, and worry. Then, finally, Silas offers up a solution to ease that worry.

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"Well, I can toss a Drachma to figure out whether we retreat or not, but then I'm out of them for the day."

Our leader shakes his head, unwilling to use that fateful skill just quite yet.

"No. We go forward. I promised them all I'd take them to the vault. So whether they are dead or alive, we will. Wyatt?"

I raise my head at the mention of my name.

"Yeah?"

Johnny turns and looks me deep in the eye, his words serious yet relieving.

"I–I hate to say it, but you have full permission to fight. Any means. Any ends. One can not hold back against Motherbounds. Just… be careful."

He then turns and addresses the rest of us. The mood turns even more grim, and that's counting the smell of burning flesh behind us.

"Everyone sticks in teams of two no matter what. Lennox, you're with me. Wyatt, you and your fox have the best teamwork together, and I trust the fox's senses to be sharp enough to detect if something goes awry. Blake and Silas, you two stick together. Under no circumstances do you leave your teammate, okay? If you are ever separated, that person is not who you think they are. Treat them like a Two-Face or Skinwalker."

We all go silent for a second and look at each other, Dakota sensing the gloom and moving closer to me. A Manipulator. On top of their normal Sigil abilities, the Darklight they are granted gives them even more powers. Capable of corrupting people and making them go mad, all the while tricking people by transforming into any they corrupt.

The darkness of the world never seems to brighten. It only ever gets dimmer.

Abruptly the silence ends, Lennox sprouting up one of his inane questions.

"Why can't I be with Wyatt? Or Dakota? Why do I have to be with you?"

His words provoke a small chuckle from the rest of us due to the unexpectedness. But, despite us all laughing, Johnny answers him just as thoughtfully as always.

"Dakota follows Wyatt wherever he goes. So it's not good to split them up, okay?"

Lennox just shrugs and mutters a quiet tune.

"Okay~, how 'bout we go find this Mother-thingy? I'm bored."

The Stoneclad's lack of care for the death around him is unnerving, but it's not surprising. He's probably seen more people die than people I've met my whole life. Anyone would become desensitized after all that, right?

A short sigh comes from us unanimously as we move forward, eyes peeled on the large cave in case of any attacks from Plagued, the term for those first killed before being controlled by Darklight. They are missing their Sigils, with only the Darklight from the Mother Below to give them strength. Motherbound is those that still have their Sigils, the mix of Darklight and Sigil becoming highly dangerous.

As I move further into the cave, I notice strange markings on the walls. Symbols and glyphs were etched into the stone like nothing I'd ever seen. I try to make sense of them, but they seem almost alien. Finally, Blake pipes up and points at them as we move past.

"That's the language used exclusively by Sentinels. I have no idea what it is saying, but I'd recognize it anywhere. It's like the normal Nahullo language, only ten times more complicated."

The news of the writings coming from Sentinels gets Johnny and Silas thinking, the two trading thoughts back and forth.

"Writing? How could they write if they were being attacked?"

"Perhaps they did it afterward or before?"

"If they did it before, then why would it be on the cave's far end toward the exit?"

"Hmm… you're right, that is odd. Perhaps it was after. In that case…."

There may be more Sentinels still alive, finishing Silas' words in my head. The idea of not all the Sentinels being dead is noteworthy. Still, the fact that there were more than twelve is even more significant. I don't know how they move in groups, but more than twelve is a large group. One that has to be led by an Angel, right?

I shake the thought away as we all step out from the inside of this large chamber into a long hallway of stone, one leading only in one direction, as it seems we are at the very end. I walk down the long, winding hallway carved into the stone of the spire, my hand trailing along the rough walls to feel the intricate carvings into the rock that could have only been made by the birdmen. As I move forward, I pass many open doorways leading into small rooms, each hinting at a forgotten purpose now lost by the dead tribe of Bado here. Finally, I pause and peer into one of the rooms, marveling at the intricate carvings on the walls depicting winged creatures soaring through the sky.

Pulled by Blake from the doorway, I continue down the hallway, my footsteps echoing eerily in the stillness along with everyone else's, creating a cacophony amidst silence. It seems as though all the Bado and people were gathered in that room where we came from at the dead end of the hallway.

Quickly, but not too rushed to risk being ambushed by a Motherbound like a Taintwrought as we still don't know the true enemy yet, we move through this hallway to the very end, where it opens to a chamber with three other exits. Unfortunately, all the exits seem similar to the previous hallway, long and wide stone tunnels. It truly is a shame these Bado were forced into these spires and their limited space. No bird should be kept in a cage their whole life, unable to fly free.

We spend a few minutes deliberating on which way to go, but at first, we are stumped by which way to go. That is until Dakota finds a burnt piece of paper on the right side.

It's only an ordinary piece of paper with nothing written, but it's proof enough to move on. However, before we do so, I take a moment to use Echo, focusing intensely on the sounds within the spire to find Bonfire.

And after a few seconds, I get the Ether flowing. With the skill up and working, my mind travels along the sounds of the carved stone until I hear grunts, flaps, sparks of electricity, and a roaring flame. I even listen to a voice I recognize as Bonfire's, but I can't quite understand him. The words are so far and echoed that they are distorted and muffled.

I follow the sounds back with my mind to create the path to them. A way that uses the path on the right. Then, I discontinue my Ether and let everyone else know. Before I do so, however, I rub my ears, the skill making them ring from the intense concentration.

"Yeah, it's the path on the right; just follow me, and we'll get to Bonfire in no time. It does sound like he's fighting, though, so we need to be fast."

Everyone listens to me without complaint and gets close as I jog ahead of them in the carved passages. However, we can't go too fast, even if we want to get to Bonfire. If we get ambushed and killed getting to him, then we are no help at all.

Turn after turn, we move, constantly searching corners and crevices in the carved stone for any danger just to not meet any. But after almost ten minutes of careful running, we get close enough to hear sounds of fighting with just our ears, plumes of flame, and zaps of lightning audible from here.

I speed up a bit further, almost unconsciously, as I go to help Bonfire. Then, after another half a minute, I twist around an open stone doorway to see Bonfire. My heart is beating fast with stress and worry as I hope and hope that he is okay.

But relief and confusion hit me as I see the man obsessed with fire fighting back to back with a tall Bado, one with many streaks of blue within its metallic feathers. My eyes roam the Bado and realize that it is a 5th Sigil, the same as Bonfire.

The thing is, though, that I can't find their opponent. Flames and lightning constantly come from the unlikely duo into the open air, but nothing is hit.

I call out to him, yelling about what he's doing.

"Bonfire! What the hell are you doing!"

As I do so, Dakota and Johnny burst through the doorway, allowing Bonfire to see them when he looks at me. Surprise hits the man's face, with an emotion closer to salvation than relief.

"Wyatt! Johnny! Oh finally! Help! Skychaser and I need help! There is a Motherbound deep in the spire, and a Taintwrought is in front of us somewhere."

My eyes move over the Bado next to him, full of life, liveness, and literal lightning. Skychaser? Is that its name? I shrug and push to help, Ether roaring to life, but Johnny grabs my shirt, whispering to me.

"Wait. This is odd. I can't see the Taintwrought. They are normally good at stealth and ambushes but not so good that both of us would miss them. They come from people already good at stealth, so..."

Johnny then raises his voice as I spiral into contemplation and worry that this Taintwrought might be born of Virgil.

"Bonfire! Who did this Taintwrought come from!?"

My mind roars with thought, almost even praying to a God that it's not Virgil. However, Bonfire's answer immediately relieves me.

"It's from the Bado tribe leader. Skychaser and I volunteered to come out and find you guys, but the old tribe leader has been on our ass the whole time!"

Still, the fire roars with almost constant lightning. I look to Johnny for permission to help as everyone else catches up, and he gives me a nod, but not without another whisper.

"Don't get too close to either of them. You never know who the real enemy is with Motherbound the second someone leaves your eyes or trusted eyes."