Zark’thul leaned back in the high-backed chair of his command room, a gentle creak echoing through the space. On one of his holographic screens, a directive marked in bold crimson flashed.

  [Directive 4-5 Failed. Squad 1 Forced to Retreat. Casualties: None. Progress: Halted.]

  The room’s ambient hum dropped to an unnatural stillness, the subtle reality-warping effects of his displeasure rippling outward. He flicked his fingers, dismissing the less urgent displays and pulling the failed directive into focus.

  He activated the debrief report and leaned forward, hands steepled, his grey eyes narrowing in scrutiny. A low murmur echoed as the holoscreen began uploading the relevant data: Squad Leader Byron’s formal summary, Lyssa’s casualty logs, and raw footage from their suits’ camera feeds.

  The squad’s status feed showed them limping back to the Tower’s infirmary, their health meters dangerously low. It was clear; they had suffered a harsh defeat. A scowl played across Zark'thul's lips.

  Directive 4-5 had tasked them to investigate the disappearance of a group of adventurers and eliminate the stirring evil in the crypts. It was not supposed to be a difficult mission. So, why had they been repelled?

  After giving them a few hours to heal and recuperate, Zark'thul ordered them to report for a debriefing.

  Byron was the first to enter the room, his dented steel shield slung over one shoulder. The others followed: Geneve with a shallow cut along her jawline, Lyssa clutching her medkit as if the weight of her failure could be stitched away with bandages, Warren’s hand resting gingerly on his ribs, and Clare trailing behind, her sniper rifle slung across her back.

  Silence blanketed the room.

  "What happened?" he demanded, his gaze sweeping over them.

  Warren's voice came first. "We encountered—more aberrations like the ones from the third floor..."

  "Elaborate."

  "The crypt was crawling with aberrations. New types we didn't know about," Warren continued. "Different ones, but just as tough, maybe tougher. Resistant to bullets, even. They shrugged off our shots, kept coming."

  "It wasn't just the aberrations," Byron interjected. "The crypt itself... it moved. Twisted. Nothing about it stayed still long enough to plan a proper fight. Those things—whatever they were—they weren't just protecting the crypt. They were part of it. Like the whole place wanted us dead."

  Zark’thul let the words hang in the air as he called up the footage. The room dimmed, its walls absorbing excess light as the recording projected in crisp, eerie detail.

  The Squad 1 footage began innocuously enough. The crypt loomed on the display, a black silhouette against the murky twilight of Briburg’s outskirts. Vines clung to its ancient stonework like veins, pulsing faintly with greenish light.

  The five agents stood at the threshold of the crypt, torches held aloft against the murky twilight. Bryon's firm order to advance was the only sound apart from the crunch of their boots on the rocky path.

  As they entered, the footage shifted, the feed flickering briefly before stabilizing. Warren's voice crackled through the speakers, hissing about static interference. Then, a soft hum rose. At first, it was faint, almost imperceptible, but soon it swelled, echoing off the crypt's stone walls.

  "Anybody else hearing that?" Clare asked. "Feels like a tuning fork in my skull."

  "Same, maybe? Just a lot of fuzz, makes it hard to think," Geneve whispered.

  Byron peered down a side passage, his torch revealing only more darkness. "Stay sharp. Keep an eye out for... anything, I guess."

  The party ventured further into the crypt. Its interior was dank, the air thick with the scent of earth and age. Statues of robed figures, their faces worn with time, lined the walls. Each held a small basin in their outstretched arms, empty and awaiting offerings. Cobwebs stretched across the corners and archways, shimmering in the light.

  "Is that a... hand?" Lyssa's voice was barely audible.

  Zark'thul zeroed in on the area Lyssa indicated.

  There, poking out from beneath a collapsed section of wall, was a decomposing hand. Clutched between its fingers was a pendant, a small metal emblem depicting a gear-and-hammer. A small bag lay nearby, its contents spilling out onto the floor.

  "They don't look fresh," Warren observed.

  "I suspect these are the remains of the missing adventurers," Byron concluded. "Well, part of them."

  "Lovely," Geneve remarked. "I just hope their other parts are in better shape."

  The party pushed deeper into the crypt. Its stone walls pressed in around them, suffocating in their closeness. Each step stirred dust from the ground, swirling around their feet like a miasma.

  The first aberration appeared at the ten-minute mark.

  It clung to the ceiling, body rippling with an oily, luminescent sheen. It detached from its perch, slithering down a column and taking shape—a formless mass, coalescing into a twisted, multi-limbed parody of a humanoid. Misshapen and grotesque, it lunged at Byron, a snarl escaping from its misshapen maw.

  "Aberration!" Byron barked out, his shield whipping up to deflect the creature’s gnashing teeth. Geneve darted in, blades flashing, carving deep furrows into its putrid flesh. It recoiled, hissing, before lashing out at her.

  Geneve leapt back, narrowly avoiding the strike. Warren's traps detonated, catching the creature in a net of searing light, but it shrugged off the flames. Lyssa's bullets drew angry welts across its skin, but it seemed more annoyed than injured. Whatever these things were made of, it was tougher, denser than the aberrations they'd faced before.

  "New plan!" Byron yelled, his shield slamming into the creature with a sickening crunch. "Fall back!"

  They fell back to a narrow corridor, trying to limit the creature's maneuverability. A coordinated effort from Byron, Geneve, and Clare began to wear it down. Yet, another aberration surged out of the darkness, tackling Byron and pinning him against the wall. His sword clattered to the ground.

  "Dammit!" Byron cried out. "Another one!"

  Geneve's daggers whistled through the air, embedding themselves deep in the second aberration's side. It shrieked, stumbling away from Byron, who took the chance to reclaim his sword.

  More aberrations swarmed out of the darkness, their feral screeches echoing around the crypt. Three more, and then four, and then five—their numbers swelling beyond the party's capacity to withstand.

  "Hold on!" Byron shouted, battering an aberration with his shield. "Lyssa, status?"

  "Reagent low. We're going to be overrun!"

  "Clare, get ready with a round of flashbangs! We're breaking out of here!"

  Clare didn't reply, focused on keeping the aberrations at bay. Byron wrenched his shield from the aberration’s grasp, knocking another back with a ferocious blow. Geneve unleashed a whirlwind of slashes and stabs, her daggers a blur of silver and crimson, but even her frenzied efforts were starting to take their toll.

  "We'll get overrun," she panted. "Too many, and I'm running out of tricks."

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  "Clare!"

  "Ready!" she responded.

  "Do it!"

  Clare's flashbangs erupted in a blinding flare, their reports deafening in the enclosed space. The aberrations recoiled, hissing and snarling, blinded. The squad bolted, racing back down the crypt passage they’d originally come from.

  Yet, the crypt was transforming around them. Walls shifted, passages twisted and contorted, and the way out eluded them. Staircases appeared where there had been none, corridors leading to dead ends sprouted where they were needed least, and all the while, the aberrations pursued them, their shrieks and roars echoing through the shifting corridors.

  "Which way?" Lyssa called out, her eyes wild with fear.

  "I don't know!" Byron shouted back.

  Geneve threw herself into an oncoming aberration, knocking it aside, buying them a few precious seconds. Clare's rifle boomed, dropping another creature, but they were relentless.

  "We need an evac route. Now!" Byron roared. "Warren, send the request!"

  Warren, despite his injuries, managed to access their comm device and activate the distress beacon.

  The footage cut out, replaced with a loading icon, indicating the emergency recall protocol initiated. Moments later, the agents were back in the Tower, battered and bleeding, but alive.

  Zark'thul's icy gaze didn't leave the screen as the video ended, the static on the screen crackling in the room's silence.

  "You were right to retreat," he murmured.

  Byron inclined his head. "Thank you, sir."

  "Your debriefing is sufficient. We'll discuss it later. Go to the infirmary and recover."

  "Yes, sir." They turned to leave, their movements stiff and pained.

  "And—" Zark'thul's voice halted them. "You did well."

  The Agents turned to acknowledge him before shuffling out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  Zark'thul leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping the desk in contemplation. Their footage revealed critical information. He pulled up a frozen image from the video and zoomed in on one of the aberrations—Qliphothic corruption was evident in its twisted, darkened form.

  More spawns of Nai'hum...

  He drummed his fingers on the table.

  If Nai'hum's influence was corrupting a whole crypt, this could be a sign that the Qliphoth's power was growing in the region. Each of those aberrations they fought down there was likely a former adventurer, twisted and reshaped into those... things.

  He'd need to address this, and soon—or did he?

  "Elspeth," he called out, activating the intercom.

  A prompt response came, "Yes, sir?"

  "Come to my office. We have matters to discuss."

  "On my way," she replied promptly.

  She stepped into the room moments later. With her meticulous posture and a datapad at the ready, Elspeth waited for instruction.

  Zark'thul turned to her. "Nai'hum's cult is at it again," he stated flatly, gesturing to the footage from the crypt. "Undoubtedly, their attempts to awaken it continue apace."

  Elspeth nodded, her fingers swiftly typing notes on her tablet. "How would you like to proceed, sir?"

  "First, I want to know how much of a time dilation there is between the Tower, or perhaps Avalon, and that world. I know it's significantly slower here, but I want to know what the rate is so I can determine the disparity."

  "The Tower and Avalon run at the same rate of time. As for the time dilation between the Tower and other worlds, it's... complicated."

  "Define 'complicated,'" he replied.

  "Until a directive is accepted and an entry portal has been opened to that world, there's no time flow within that world, according to the Tower. The only time that passes is the time required to complete the directives you partake."

  "What about once we leave?"

  "When you leave, the entry portal becomes inactive. No additional time passes there until another portal opens."

  "So, whenever we're not there, that world is 'frozen,' as it were?"

  "Yes. The Tower and Avalon operate as a persistent dimension that maintains its own time, separate from other realms. Think of it as the foundation from which all else branches out."

  Zark'thul tapped his chin thoughtfully. "So, this cult will not have gained any time despite the... setback experienced by Squad One."

  "Correct."

  "Wait, then how do we manage to consistently acquire resources from our trade deals? From what you're saying, as soon as we leave those places, they just sort of... pause until we return, right?"

  "Because the portals remain open, allowing time to flow back and forth between the realms," Elspeth replied. "So long as the portal is active, time continues to flow. If it is closed, the realm ceases to exist within the temporal fabric of the Tower."

  Hmm.

  He had overlooked that. So, the passage of time was relative. If the portal to a realm remained open, time would progress as normal for that realm. Yet, the moment the portal closed, that realm's timeline halted.

  "That is... advantageous, to say the least," he remarked, considering the implications. "And absurd, even for my standards."

  Despite his Eldritch nature, manipulating time to this degree was a feat he had never attempted. The best he could do was warp reality in localized areas, typically to his benefit. For instance, he could make himself appear instantly in a different location or induce a form of stasis in a target. Manipulating time on a dimensional scale? That was far beyond his abilities. No, beyond any eldritch beings' abilities.

  To know the Tower could achieve such a thing...

  It was unthinkable.

  "Close all active portals there and recall any active agents. I'm temporarily pausing our operations in that realm."

  "Yes, sir." Elspeth typed on her pad, prompting a distant hum to resound through the floor. Then she nodded. "Portals closed. The crypt's portal was already closed, but the portals we maintained for the previous directives are now shut."

  "Good. I'll personally attend to the crypt's issue after I make some preparations."

  "Yes, sir."

  Zark'thul was prime to take point, being immune to the corruptive effects of the Qliphoth. All he needed to bring was a team of Agents who could function as support without direct engagement.

  Assembling a squad to tackle this matter was straightforward—Squad Five was the most adept choice given their abilities. They would be his weapon of choice for this mission.

  The group awaited him as he entered the Nexus Room, having already received their summons through the Tower's intercom system. Althea, Sylmae, Cerys, Myralis, and Lirielle gathered around the central platform, equipped with their standard gear.

  The three dryads wore light armor woven of vine and wood over their gossamer-like attire, while Althea wore a simple, silvery gown that matched the hue of her hair and the subtle, fluid pattern that adorned her body. Lirielle fluttered about the room, her wings of translucent gossamer casting a faint, iridescent light.

  "Hey Boss-man, what's the plan?" the tiny sprite piped up, zooming close to Zark'thul's face as he entered.

  "Quiet, Lirielle. His Lordship will explain shortly," Cerys gently admonished her, gesturing for the excitable sprite to settle down. With a huff, Lirielle alighted on Cerys' shoulder.

  Zark'thul addressed the gathering. "We are about to embark on a mission to cleanse a crypt infested with aberrations, caused by a Qliphoth's influence. The mission is simple: eliminate them all. There were adventurers that were within the crypt when it became corrupted and may have been transformed by this. Should we encounter any surviving adventurers, assist them if feasible or eliminate them if compromised."

  Cerys clutched her staff tighter. Her complexion paled, the green hue of her skin turning ashen at the mention of the Qliphoth. The other Sylvans likewise tensed.

  An expected reaction. Cerys had experienced firsthand the Qliphoth's corruption. No doubt this mission would provoke feelings of fear, revulsion, and anger. She would need to manage her emotions to remain in control.

  "Do we know the extent of the infestation?" Myralis inquired, her tone even despite the visible unease on her face.

  "Not exactly. I have reviewed Squad One's footage. They engaged about six or seven of them but were forced to retreat. However, given the nature of the crypt, it is safe to assume there could be at least triple that number."

  Althea let out a soft whistle. "A veritable horde of those creatures then."

  Lirielle was the next to speak. "Ew, gross! Nasty things, those are. But not to worry, I'm sure we can handle them, right, everyone?"

  The Sylvans exchanged uncertain glances.

  Zark'thul quelled the rising murmurs with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're the best suited to support me here; that's why I'm bringing you along. I can't be harmed by the Qliphoth corruption, so I will be in the forefront engaging the aberrations. Aside from that, I've devoted a sizable amount of Experience Cores and Skill Books to your growth. Compared to your previous directives, this should be... trivial by comparison, though the enemies are tougher."

  "We are certainly stronger, my lord. You have seen to that," Cerys said, though her voice tinged with an undercurrent of doubt. "Yet, I admit some... discomfort at this task."

  "Take this as an opportunity to exact your revenge for what it did to you and your kin," he offered.

  She seemed to chew on that thought for a moment, her eyes fluttering briefly. She nodded. "I will do my best to keep a level head, my lord. For myself, and our mission's success."

  "Good." He gestured for Elspeth who was observing from the sidelines, "Let's hunt."

  Elspeth acknowledged him, quickly tapping on her tablet. A glowing, blue gateway sprang up within the central circle.

  "Yippee!" Lirielle darted through the portal without hesitation.

  The remaining Sylvans filed through the portal one by one. As Zark'thul passed Elspeth, he paused. "Maintain a lock on Squad Five, and monitor their health. The moment they require it, administer a recall. Same for myself, but only if I'm incapacitated, you understand?"

  She nodded. "Understood, sir."

  He stepped into the portal.