Ellis fluttered her eyes open and looked up at the ceiling of Pulvis that slowly entered her blurred vision. Taking a small breath, she instantly winced, every slight movement of her chest being a stabbing agony. Every part of her body stung like a thousand piercing needles, her chest felt warm, her head pounded, feeling like it was about to split open. Having been able to form a clear picture, slowly, she painfully craned her neck forward and saw herself, laying in a small puddle of her own blood. With a tiny moment of hesitation, she grabbed the handle of the dagger that was still in her chest and gasped sharply as she forced herself to yank it out. She suddenly coughed excruciatingly, piercing pain shooting through her lungs, blood spurting up out from her mouth. She dropped the bloody dagger to the floor. With her sword still in her grip, she panted and rolled over onto her stomach. Coughing up some more blood, she proceeded to painfully drag herself across the floor, leaving a large dark red streak in her wake. Slowly regaining her strength, she put her palms down onto the floor and groaned, heaved herself up. Wincing, spitting blood, bleeding internally, she staggered upright and blinked, trying not to pass out as the world wobbled around her like a ship in a storm. She pressed her hands to her mortal wound, trying to save as much blood as possible as it slowly trickled through her fingers, painting her palms red. With her momentum slowly returning, her brain getting its bearings, she looked around at the carnage that the battle had brought. Bodies laid all over the place, their dark red fluids covering almost every inch of the building. The result looked like something out of a war movie, the irony being that it was real. Trying to ignore the scene, she limped through the mess of blood and corpses and made her way to an operating theatre. She pushed the doors open and the world suddenly spun around her, overtaken by darkness. She crashed to the floor. The shocked doctor rushed over to her and hauled her up into his arms, carrying her over to the operating table. He gently laid the injured woman down and immediately put a mask over her mouth and nose, knocking her out. He then proceeded to operate on her, healing her, stitching up her wounds.
Ellis sat at Artificis' upholstered, velvet throne, having automatically taken over the organisation. The large handful of surviving henchmen looked at her, ready to obey their new leader without question. No one else wanted to bear the heavy burden of leading a company into war against a secret organisation. The stress of losing so many comrades and a leader was enough. Ellis stared back at them, her face cold, her freezing soul losing the last little bit of humanity that it had left. There were no jokes and kindness left inside her anymore. There was nothing but hatred and anger swirling around like a violent, unending storm that threatened to tear anything apart. Showing mercy would show weakness, and she could not afford that at the moment – not when there were plans to be carried out. Her suit was now permanently stained in blood, turning a portion of it a sickly dark red, but that was the least of her worries. “We have to prepare for war.” She told them. “MI5 murdered Artificis and Frank, and I am going to have my revenge. I want my retribution. I am only going to say this once – if any of you want to leave and go back to your old lives, then I allow you to. The door is right over there. You will be forever free from this place.”
No one said anything. No one moved a muscle. Ellis stayed quiet for a small while, letting them decide. Not one little word. Not one slight movement. Numbers and firepower were now needed more than ever. “So be it. Fortify Pulvis completely. We are going to war.”
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The henchmen all dashed about, preparing weapons, setting up traps. Ellis looked down at them all from a balcony, watching how they all ran about like ants that had their nest disturbed. Guns were polished, bullets were collected, daggers were sharpened. Ellis knew one thing for certain – this was going to be a very bloody fight. The battle may have been lost, but the war was just reaching its midpoint. Everything was still to play for. The true powers of both sides would be unleashed in all their terrifying glory. Gallons of blood were going to be spilled in a battle that would shake the very foundations that kept Ellis' house standing up above. MI5 was not going to hold back, but so wasn’t Pulvis. It wasn’t a battle of wits any longer, it was a battle of strength, both armies trying to push the other off the edge of the cliff and into the abyss. Numbers had to be cut, damage had to be dealt – by using whatever means necessary. One henchman walked down the corridors and went to turn a corner, but suddenly stopped himself. Turning, he looked down at the floor and kicked at a tiny, irregular rock formation. It broke apart, separating itself from the surface that it was stuck to. He stooped down, picking it up. He frowned ever so slightly, a little wonder running through his head. Standing upright, he looked forward and turned the corner. He looked at the metal door and walked over to it, opening it up. His eyes widened at the sight of the scene. In front of him stood the solid concrete landslide that impeded the exit. Dropping the miniscule rock, he turned and sprinted down the corridors.
The henchman knocked on the door of the office.
“Enter.” Called out the voice of Ellis. He opened the door and walked over to the desk, stood in front of her.
“Ma’am, we have a situation.”
“And that is?”
“MI5 has sealed us in.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“They have filled the exit with concrete. There is no way out.”
Ellis did not seem fazed by the dire news, almost like she was expecting the move. She had some fears hidden within her, but being buried alive fifty feet underground was not one of them. “Get all of the pickaxes and shovels that you can get. You will have to dig through it.”
“But ma’am, that will take an entire day or two.”
“You cannot blast through it. With an enclosed space like this, the roof will almost certainly collapse on top of you. Pulvis is already damaged enough as it is, this is the only option.”
The henchman nodded, obeying the command without another objection. “Ma’am.” Turning, he walked out.
The small group of henchmen proceeded to chip away at the wall without pause, slowly making a pathway up to the surface again. A tiny garage lamp hung from a wire on its hook, swaying the slightest bit, giving the miners some light to work with. Sweat poured down their faces and their dirty vests stuck to their bare skin with the intense underground heat cooking their flesh. The work was fiery torture, but they continued without one tiny break in their endless routine. One muscular henchman manned a large jackhammer, making short work of the rudimentary wall. With the organisation being so deep underground, noise was not a problem. The people up above were oblivious to the operation happening right beneath their feet. Another small group rested as they waited for their turn. The digging had to be done in perpetual shifts. Time was against their side and there was none to waste. Plans had to be thought up and a retribution was in order. The refuse was carried away in sacks and discarded into the sewers.
