SEVERAL PACES DEEPER into the hallway, and what he saw was true: spores, fungal tracks, veins coating the passage and ceiling, a distinct green-ish brown-ish hue to it all, though one which seemed lighter than the previous Fatal Grazes they encountered, perhaps due to how pervasive this particular infestation was compared to the other much smaller ones they encountered; such a realization did not stop him from thinking to himself all the while, 'the entire hallway's a fae-construct!'

  His team sent him back an affirmation echo. 'Yeah, we see it, too,' they said in so many words.

  Having stopped dead in their tracks at his insistence, Zan's fingers scrunched up while on his brother's back and exo-suit. It was a signal Jie needed to stop moving ahead.

  "Let's pull back," he said, finding their steps quickly retraced back into the stairwell.

  "MAC!" he quipped. "What is that? And what do you mean, 'dynamism level'?"

  "Dynamism level refers to biological growth potential actualized. Said again, it simply denotes a stronger organism than a fae-construct's base model. To give an example you might understand from your daily life. Think of two men: one is scrawny and weak. Another is muscular and strong. The individual who is muscular and strong might be described as in 'dynamic' terms. Assuming you humans were fae, that is," MAC explained.

  "So, that Fatal Graze in there isn't any different than the Grazes we fought above?" he asked.

  "Correct. In terms of biological and construction and growth. Considering its immense size, however, you should expect it to have a more potent alluring ability. Proceed with extreme caution."

  Leaving his headset alone, he closed the door. He did not think that Graze needed any more space to colonize and grow.

  "I'm calling it for the day. Let's get back to the surface and rest our tired heels..."

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Neither Whiskey nor his brother fought him on this point. They returned to their campsite without incident. They started a fire, Jiehong started on cooking up a meal while Whiskey went hunting for basic game. And he? He made a new hefty batch of black tea -- this blend, provided by Whiskey from her gift upon when they first met, was flavored with orange and cinnamon spices, on top of some Medy-Em to give it a relaxing edge. He sat in front of he and Jiehong's tent, letting the day's fading light be his companion.

  "So... tired..." he moaned to anyone who would listen. Which was not very many as Whiskey was away and Jiehong was busy preparing food.

  "I know. This is going to be our life now, right? We should get used to it..." Jie said.

  "We will get used to it. We always do. But no reason why we can't pee and moan about it all the while. Just because this is what we have to do doesn't mean we should pretend to like it," he countered.

  Still chopping vegetables for stew, Jiehong didn't look up to respond. "Maybe that is what we need to do. Pretend like we like our life until we actually like it. Maybe we won't know the bliss of endlessly fighting automotrons or fae-constructs until we try to go to school and realize how boring the normal world is outside of danger and violence. So, we pretend in the meantime."

  "Sounds... mental," he replied, bursting out with a laugh, and encouraging even Jie to smile.

  "You're probably right," Jie replied after a good giggle. "I think a forced acclimation, for the time being, is what we should expose ourselves to. We can't learn to live a new way until we commit to the lifestyle. That's what I think, personally..."

  "No. I hear you. I do. I am taking things day-by-day. Everything is so fragile, you know? No point in planning ahead when the next day, for all's we know, could up end our efforts forcing us to start from the beginning. That would hurt more than anything," he said.

  Jie and he continued to talk throughout the meal prep period, he, even helping Jie once he had a cup of relaxing herb-rich tea.

  With the meal nearly done in its prep, only the leftover meat left to chop, Jie asked "are you worried about anything?"

  "What do you mean? I am worried about everything, I think. Me, you, the Order, Luxley... nothing is simple anymore. What happened to our life?"

  Jiehong's stoicism didn't allow him to show much emotion. He could tell, though, his brother was barely keeping a strong face. "That's what I mean," he practically choked out. "What did happen to our life? What happened to me attending university? You and... whatever you were going to do. You were excited for your Age Day, right? What happened to our simple, happy lives?"

  He didn't attempt to answer Jiehong's question. For, there was nothing to answer outside of 'war.'