Swift guided the dwindling group through the first gate, exchanging a few words with a few guards before they disappeared into the city. He led the fugitives down the dark passage of the ‘slaughterhouse.’ The smell of cleaning products still lingered, the machines lined the sides of the tunnel like bulky colossi, but they encountered no servants. Swift explained this by Latka’s orders to pay the laborers double their daily ration and send them home for the night.

  Ruda expected to see a sudden flash of light from the corridor wall, to hear the hiss of a laser or the whistle of bullets, followed by the stomping of boots, signaling the beginning of the inevitable ambush. Her fingers tightened on the haft of her axe, leaving dents. Chernogor strode boldly ahead, holding their occasionally groaning captive by the arm and not even pointing a pistol at his unwitting companion.

  It looked like the commander ended up being correct about the enemy’s positions.

  “My guts are clenching at the thought of leaving the cutie here.” Bahran stopped next to the battered buggy, half-embracing Farrin. “This is our whole life.” He opened the door and reached inside, pulling out a bag. “Much better now.”

  “You have even fewer memories than a dementia patient,” Yeshua grumbled.

  “Quality, not quantity, is what matters,” Farrin said. “You should move your feet faster, since you’re resembling a leaky tin can, down to leaving a wet trail. It’s slippery enough already, without your mindless droning.”

  “Or is this liquid dripping from somewhere else?” Bahran chuckled. “You can’t see the color in the dark...”

  “You guessed it. It’s bile. Keep up, or you’ll dissolve in a puddle,” Yeshua muttered.

  “Are you sure? I just don’t want to get dirty...”

  “Don’t worry. Nothing can mask your stench.”

  “So fierce, throwing out barbs,” Farrin giggled, nudging Bahran with her elbow. “Maybe he should show the same talent in battle instead of playing a helpless virgin?”

  Ruda placed her hand on Yeshua’s shoulder, stopping the scuffle. Due to his injury, Chernogor had placed him in the middle of the line, entrusting Bahran and Farrin to guard the rear. Now the usually calm youth was furious, considering himself a burden. Ruda knew this feeling, and she glanced pleadingly at Ney, unsure how to cheer their friend up.

  “Hey, Yeshua! What does it take to ruin our kin’s precision?” Ney asked.

  “One organ. A tongue yapping non-stop during a task,” Yeshua muttered.

  “Wrong. Two limbs. One for keeping the stubborn one in a death grip, and one for using a chainsaw.”

  “Asshole,” Yeshua coughed.

  “Ney, don’t be so nasty. Saw him a little sympathy,” Ruda teased.

  “I hate all of you,” the young man laughed, to everyone’s amusement.

  There was no security in the tunnel. A small line of light emanating from the guardroom was visible ahead, illuminating the lower part of the giant left gate. Chernogor raised his hand, stopping the squad and proceeding inside with the prisoner, drawing furious shouts from the guards. Swift addressed the guards, stopping the impending fight, to Ruda’s disappointment.

  “Are you sure you don’t need a bandage? An adrenaline shot?” she addressed Yeshua.

  “No. Piss off,” he snapped, checking his pistol.

  “Yeshua, what’s going on?” Ruda brought her helmet closer to him, whispering. “You’re completely different. Is it because of the injury? There’s nothing shameful about that. I’ve lost count of how many times my ass has been saved.”

  “Including the arena, twenty-eight times.” Ney said. “A very charming ass, by the way. Glad to be of service.”

  “That’s not the point,” Yeshua said. He glanced around, checking to make sure their allies weren’t eavesdropping. “I don’t want to let Commander Eloise down. You’ve heard the rumors.”

  “About her condition?” Ruda asked. “It’s no secret.”

  “Eloise can’t raise worthy sariants,” Ney said quietly.

  “Bullshit,” Ruda snorted. “Eloise, Chernogor, and Jake just joined the Order. When could any of them have failed?”

  “Prior to enlisting,” Yeshua said. “The Commander served as a major in the north, training a battalion of the Blessed. I was a young buffoon back then, confused by the simplest things,” Yeshua chuckled, quietly and sadly. “I forgot to tie my duffel bag on a forced march, burst into the women’s washrooms, mistaking the location of the barracks, shirk my duties. This insecurity was brought out of me, and I was assigned to the battalion. There, the usual routine of combat coordination began, designed to mold us into a fighting unit suitable to operate where police efforts were insufficient. The invasion and the deadly fog of Chosen Prince put an end to those plans. Most of the senior command staff perished; half the recruits were reduced to shamblers. The major survived. Since then, rumors have swirled about her cowardice; suspicions of violating security protocol.” He spat.

  “The usual spiel of theorists who haven’t smelled gunpowder,” said Ney. “People aren’t machines; perfection is impossible...”

  “You know what really happened,” Ruda said, convinced by the pain and irritation in her comrade’s voice. “Eloise didn’t neglect safety.”

  “She saved us all,” Yeshua confirmed. “You were lucky that the war didn’t reach you. The fog came in a solid wave, moving faster than a car and obscuring the sky. Heavy, suffocating clouds the color of stagnant pus filled everything, blocking vision beyond fingertips. The air became damp; a single breath caused a slight dizziness; moss and creepers grew through the barracks; and the cars rusted. Then came groans. Not screams. The soldiers you were drinking with yesterday were moving toward you, bloated and bleeding yellow, their feet dragging across the asphalt. I swear, there was terror in their eyes; they still lived. Yet their hands were pointing weapons at us.”

  Yeshua paused, glancing at the bandits. One of them was about to open another vehicle until Bahran called out to him, reminding him that the car might be booby-trapped.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Watch our backs if you don’t want to get killed or captured and torn apart for the crowd’s amusement,” the mutant said. He turned, looming over the civilian holding the boy. “You’re making the back of my neck itch. Think I’m a freak, yeah?”

  “Are you an Orais?” the boy asked, and Bahran winced, opening and closing his mouth.

  “Or... oreo... what? What did you call me?”

  “An Orais,” Farrin prompted. “The white slut from the menagerie told me about them. Huge Abnormals that walk on their knuckles. No, kiddo. He’s a wimp compared to them.”

  “Does this look like a wimp’s arm?” Bahran tensed his muscles, causing the sleeve of his battered power armor to creak and expand.

  “Honestly, yes,” the civilian said, adjusting the child’s position. “The Orais are covered in thick fur that stops small-caliber weapons, but they don’t have such sharp needles, and they certainly can’t fire them with such precision.”

  “Then they’re not as cool as you,” the boy declared.

  “Exactly,” Bahran agreed. “These Oreos don’t hold a candle to me. Want me to flip a coin and puncture it in midair? Core, edge—you choose where...”

  “Have a circus after we get out alive,” Yeshua shouted at him, continuing in a low voice. “No one neglected safety. The instructors immediately strapped gas masks onto us. The officers coordinated the retreat while the junior command staff handed out hazmat suits. But that stuff burned its way through the material the moment anyone hesitated.”

  “I imagine many were disoriented in that fog while the zombies attacked,” Ney said.

  “Zombies. It’s good you don’t understand,” Yeshua said. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. In the horrific chaos of the green whirlpool, the death of comrades, the decaying clothing, and the destruction of everything we knew, our battalion lost its direction and found itself surrounded. Eloise found us, cutting a path to the exit. She led hundreds of soldiers to safety, earning herself the reward of countless diseases that devoured her body alive. For us, she’s a savior. The rest needed scapegoats. They wanted to believe in the human factor that failed the defense instead of accepting the brutal reality of our army’s helplessness against a single Blessed.”

  “No soldier thinks that,” Ruda declared. “Otherwise, the commander wouldn’t have been invited to the order.”

  “Really? Then why did the magister assign Commander Eloise only simple tasks like guarding the cruiser after we lost Julia?” Yeshua asked. “Ney knows. The Planet officially accepts everyone, but orders are subject to prejudice. The Trolls barely consider us equals. You saw the bridge. Eloise has lost everything below the jaw. Some consider her cursed, less than human. Every loss of a dear friend serving under her command, every failure of mine, serves as proof of this lie to the doubters. So, to repay the debt of honor for saving my comrades, I must prove what an excellent officer she is.”

  “Let Eloise take care of herself,” Ney advised. “What do we care about gossip? You can’t please everyone. I’m certain the past was full of stupid prejudices that haven’t reached our days.”

  “All that nonsense has dissolved over the years,” Ruda readily agreed. “Seriously, Normies weren’t permitted to become teachers back then. Can you imagine the chance of such nonsense today? We serve for what’s truly important.” She realized with surprise that she was pointing at Rustam.

  “The salary is also a suitable incentive,” Yeshua joked, straightening his shoulders. A grimace of pain crossed his face, unable to break the smile. “I wasn’t quite thinking right. Stumbled.”

  “Welcome back, Yesh,” Ruda hugged him. “We all lose our way sometimes.”

  “Don’t mangle my name, and I won’t call you a mountain goat.”

  So that’s what I can tease you about.

  The exit gate shuddered, accompanied by the hiss of steam and the hum of hydraulics, and began to swing outward. The light dimmed in the guardroom, and Chernogor emerged alone, patting his empty money bag.

  “Our friends made a wise decision. They’ll sit in the room for an hour, then crawl out, telling of the sudden ambush that caught them off guard. Latke did indeed order our machines mined. I deactivated the mines and smashed all the terminals to smithereens so they wouldn’t be tempted to change their minds,” the commander said.

  “You decided not to kill them, sir?” Ruda asked.

  “Secrecy is no longer necessary; why add to the misery?” Chernogor turned towards the exit.

  Outside, the storm still pressed against the force shield, but lazily, no longer hurling rocks with enough force to crush a man but merely rolling stuff across the field. The heavy chains holding the remains of hanging criminals stopped whipping against the walls, and the force of the wind no longer threatened to knock a casual traveler off his feet.

  Natural debris filled Rabor’s disgusting ditch, and Ruda fumbled for her pistol, spotting a meter-long insect nimbly hopping along the wooden planks in the seething, toxic mass, feasting on the corpses of animals and its own kind. Its long proboscis pierced protruding body parts, sucking out the juices. Its blue, faceted eyes glanced at the group, and the creature hopped away.

  Chernogor raised his hand, firing a flare. The turrets and missile launchers didn’t target the commander as he led the men along the edge of the ditch to their vehicles. In his greed, Draz had exposed the south of his kingdom, concentrating his forces on the struggle for power. He kept his word, and new vehicles waited near their convoy. Farrin ran ahead, asking the men to stay behind, and with three assistants, inspected the transports, removing the explosives. The keys to their gifts were in the ignition, but the APCs’ front doors remained locked. Yeshua and Bahran overcame this obstacle. One used an electronic lockpick, and the other picked the locks with a needle.

  “You’re not useless after all, brat,” Bahran said, trying to keep up with Yeshua.

  “The answer is no. Men don’t interest me.”

  “Why are you so cheerful...”

  Ruda left them to bicker, busying herself with joining the soldiers at the end of the group. Farrin had already started their vehicles’ engines, the first passengers had climbed the descending ramps, and once the rest of the trucks were opened, they would race across the bridge, meeting up and boarding the Shroud of Darkness. There, she would carry Rustam to the infirmary and hide in her cabin, waiting for the azure scales to dissolve…

  Her eyes darted from the turret to the missile launcher, trying to detect the slightest movement. The bandits nearby were relaxed, confident of a successful escape. Ruda almost convinced herself she was losing her nerve when her ear, now a circular disc, caught a ringing sound distinct from the sound of feet on a transport, the scraping of armor edges, or the work of the locksmiths. Then came the crack of splintering stone.

  “To the sides!” Ruda lunged to the right, knocking a mercenary into Rabor’s city wall.

  Red droplets fell before her eyes, dazzling with an incredibly bright color. A glowing orange dot formed in their centers, growing larger, filling out, and eclipsing the red. Soon the light resembled dawn. A surge of adrenaline brought Ruda’s perception to a previously unexperienced acuity, slowing objects and stretching the surprised mercenary’s exclamation in time. Thanks to the abilities granted by her incomplete transformation, Ruda noticed the slow disappearing of the droplets and the rising whitish vapor.

  The liquid evaporated, blown away by a stream of concentrated heat that hit the hesitant mercenary and the civilian standing nearby. Half of the civilian vanished, opening a hideous sight of his open skull, his brain boiling within. Most of his skin and soft tissue were burned away. The mercenary survived a little longer, managing to scream before her armor melted and the human body disappeared in a searing beam.

  The unusual beam struck the ground, carving a path seven meters deep through sand and rock, creating a pool from which orange-hued magma splashed and spattered. The remains of the deceased swayed, falling into this monstrous fumarole.

  Ruda pushed the rescued man away, feeling pure, unadulterated hatred that overcame even the disgust for her power. Her teeth lengthened, clicking predatory, welcoming the loosening of the shackles holding the beast within. The proximity of warmth brought another surge of sweat, and Ruda disabled the armor’s climate control system, wanting to tear and rend.

  A hollow, seething challenge erupted from the crusader’s chest as she raised her head, locating the bastard responsible for his death. Draz lay sprawled headfirst on the outer side of the wall, digging his fingers into the solid surface. Blood dripped from his numerous wounds; his clothes were shredded; metal sleeves, scorched and nicked, protected him up to his shoulders. A wisp of smoke escaped his nose. The governor reached for the nearest chain holding a corpse in the cage and played with the jingling links.

  “Heading out already?” he asked in a voice full of hatred. “What about hanging a little before the trip?”