[Terry]: What do you mean, you’re a Fire Elementalist!? Why in the Underworld are we freezing our asses off?

  Juan took on an indignant look, clearly prepared to respond with some scathing remark, when Chippy and the four-armed alien—Py Dar, or Py for short—both huffed in annoyance.

  They’d been relaying each of their private conversations back and forth. For some reason, they couldn’t create a System group chat—and Terry had never heard of the possibility anyway. And since the three of them were deathly afraid of Al’Ruzan, they were forced to copy everything they said in private to all three other participants.

  It had seemed unnecessarily tedious at first and Terry had been tempted to buck the arbitrary rule and risk a confrontation with the giant, sleeping alien. But from the looks of fear in their eyes—and the little tidbit from Juan that Al’Ruzan was a Duelist—he realized that any fight between the two of them would stay between the two of them.

  And Terry’s aura was still raw, exposed like an open wound.

  But things would not stay like this, he vowed. He was gonna finish this Quest, he was gonna get back home—home to his father, home to his mother—and go back to living his life. There was too much to be done on Earth to waste time in this wasteland.

  Which meant—at least for the time being—he had to copy every damn message he sent over to Chippy and Py. The only reason he agreed was because it was apparently pretty easy to do with a simple mental command.

  Still, it was the principle of the matter that rubbed him the wrong way.

  

  [Juan Carlos]: Yes! I’m a Fire Elementalist.

  He looked around with raised eyebrows.

  

  [Juan Carlos]: But I can’t make fire out of thin air. And fire needs fuel. And fuel needs to be dry to burn. How do you reckon we’re gonna get something dry enough to burn in this freeze-my-balls-off cave!?

  As they spoke in secret, giving Terry the quick and dirty rundown on their time in the Underworld, their powersets, even their home lives—though Terry saw the pain flicker in their eyes when they discussed that topic—they continued to skin and dress the dire wolf.

  Juan was the latest to arrive before Terry, accepting the summons from Earth about two months prior. Py—who was an Artificer—had arrived six months back, with Chippy—a Savant—only preceding her by a couple weeks.

  As far as they knew, Mara-Lin-Jaid had been here almost a year.

  

  [Terry]: So what have you been doing with the meat? Just eating it raw?

  Py furled her nose at the suggestion, while Chippy shrugged as if that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  

  [Juan Carlos]: Ew, no bro. I may not have fire, but I can stimulate the heat already inside the wolf to cook it. Well, eventually. Takes nearly a day and I’m wiped after.

  Terry noticed the very obvious problem with that statement.

  

  [Terry]: And before you got here?

  

  [Chialpuncritis]: We eat raw, of course.

  

  [Py Dar]: Never again! Never leave us, Juan!

  Juan chuckled at that, then went wide eyed as Al’Ruzan made a stirring sound in his bed behind Terry. He looked back but couldn’t see the alien’s face past his furs. Near his bed, Mara-Lin-Jaid was resting with her back against the cave wall, her eyes closed. At Juan’s chuckle, her eyes flicked open, seemed to stare at them disapprovingly—though it was hard to tell in the dark cave—then shut once more.

  Content that they’d dodged reprisal from Big Al, Terry decided to cut to the chase.

  

  [Terry]: So what’s his deal, exactly? I get not wanting to feel excluded. But you can’t speak when he’s asleep? Even in System chats?

  Juan instinctively glanced toward Py, who nodded silently, as if taking up the burden of answering.

  

  [Py Dar]: Al’Ruzan is part of the Dirg’Ghee. My own race has interacted with them over the millennia, even warring from time to time when we’ve disputed over planets.

  They are a martial race and hierarchy is everything to them. Al’Ruzan is not his name—he has no name until he has earned it through combat. Al is a title given to their royalty based on clan affiliation, while Ruzan means something like ‘promised’.

  Py shrugged, the gesture oddly comical with her four arms.

  

  [Py Dar]: I can’t be certain, but I think it’s supposed to mean something like Eventual Royalty or Promised Nobility or some silly nonsense. A marker of potential, I think.

  Terry nodded, the pieces finally clicking into place. Big Al had big plans for his life and being trapped in the Underworld for two years hadn’t been on his bingo card. And with no realistic avenue to complete their joint Quest, he had decided to make the best of his situation.

  More than that, a rigid hierarchy meant two things: he couldn’t abide a challenge to his authority…and he expected a mutiny—it wasn’t if, but when.

  

  [Terry]: Okay, things are starting to make sense. Next big question mark. This monster, what gives? It’s clearly smart enough not to just wipe us out and eat us—Big Al’s providing it regular meals, after all.

  But by that very fact, it’s also not trapping us in here. Big Al goes hunting every few days, right?

  He looked between the three of them, carefully studying their reactions to his next question.

  

  [Terry]: So the question is…why haven’t you all made a break for it? Surely you realize the status quo can’t hold up? Better risk it and die than spend two years in here.

  Only because he was watching their faces so closely, did he see the thoughtful expressions turn into utter terror. He only had a half-second warning before he was violently pulled up from a crouch and pinned to the cave wall by two powerful hands.

  Al’Ruzan’s talons dug into his skin, drawing blood that immediately chilled his flesh. That familiar wave of hot, foul breath washed over his face as the giant alien barked something in an incomprehensible language.

  Terry squirmed under Al’Ruzan’s grip for a moment, but then the shock was burned away by the anger.

  “Get your fucking hands off me!”

  His grip tightened, pulling a gasp from his lungs. Al’Ruzan growled more alien words, then seemed to realize Terry couldn’t understand him.

  

  [Al’Ruzan, third of his name]: I thought I told you the rules! We only speak in Team Chat. Is that too difficult for you to understand!

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The fire in his arms fueled the fire in his chest. Raw aura or not, he’d spent plenty of time Body Tempering like any normal Duelist; his Physical Attributes were in the Ds. Maybe they weren’t on the level of a giant brute like Al’Ruzan. But this wasn’t Savage or Whipvine pinning him to the wall.

  This was just a D-ranker.

  With a cry that was half-pain, half-fury, he pushed against Al’Ruzan with his pinned arms. For a moment, he thought that maybe he had overestimated his own strength, maybe they weren’t in the same realm like he had thought.

  Then, the shock registered on Al’Ruzan’s face as Terry’s arms shifted. Al’Ruzan slid his foot back to regain the leverage, shoving Terry back against the wall, but Terry had seen daylight now and he was bucking against the pin like a feral dog.

  He prepared to pull on his aura, fight through the pain, and give him the inch he needed to get his knee between them. Something in Al’Ruzan’s braided hair had caught his eye earlier and he saw his leverage point—

  A scratching sound froze the air in the cave, causing Chippy to squeak in terror, while Juan and Py scampered away from the entrance.

  Even Al’Ruzan’s eyes went wide in shock, releasing Terry with a hurried grunt. Before Terry could process the quick change of events, Al’Ruzan rushed over to the dire wolf, placed a taloned foot on the torso, and gripped the haunch with two hands.

  Then, he began straining against it as his foot held the torso down, like he was trying to deadlift the leg against his own weight.

  Mara-Lin-Jaid was the next to react. She raced over to the corpse, moving Chippy bodily as she plucked Al’Ruzan’s knife from the rodent alien’s hand. With practiced motion, she began sawing at the joint where the haunch met the body.

  Terry could only stare on in morbid fascination as the connective tissue began to tear, before Al’Ruzan suddenly took a surprised step backward, the separated haunch held between his hands. He chucked it over to Juan, who flinched as the bloody meat slapped against his chest, then began dragging the rest of the dire wolf corpse toward the entrance.

  Terry followed his progress in shocked silence; the stark transition from their physical confrontation to this harried dismemberment had even put him on the back foot.

  But as his eyes tracked Al’Ruzan toward the cave entrance, that was when he saw it.

  Its silhouette was large—larger than even Al’Ruzan, who Terry estimated was over seven feet tall. Though the storm continued to rage, whiting out the world beyond the cave, he noted that the monster was humanoid in shape, but had a fur outline, giving it the appearance of a bipedal polar bear.

  Past the pain, past the trepidation, Terry quested his aura forward, caught the barest hint of an aura.

  Then, Al’Ruzan chucked the dire wolf corpse toward the monster and inclined his head. Before Terry could confirm anything else about the creature, it was gone, the corpse lifted as easily as a chicken wing.

  A hushed silence descended on the group as all eyes stared toward that blank white of the storm, as if expecting the monster to return and gut them all. After a moment that stretched for an eternity, Mara-Lin-Jaid let out a heavy sigh of relief and sagged against the wall. In answer, Chippy let out a happy squeak, but immediately wilted as Al’Ruzan cast a dark gaze toward him. Juan still held the dismembered leg in his hands, away from his chest to minimize the contact. But the damage was done; he was slathered in blood and the dismay was writ across his face.

  There was no laundry service in the Underworld.

  But Terry kept his eyes locked on Al’Ruzan. He wasn’t naive enough to think that was the end of their fight. His earlier pull on his aura had hurt, but he could bear it if it meant not getting his ass kicked.

  The ball bearing bracelet that Silver had give him so long ago—the one he’d used on the sanguine elder—liquefied with a pulse of his aura, drawing into long, thin needles. He kept them out of sight as he staggered his feet, making it seem like he was gearing up for a pure fistfight.

  Al’Ruzan couldn’t miss the challenge in his stance. Fury lived in his eyes as he studied Terry from the cave entrance.

  

  [Al’Ruzan, third of his name]: You nearly cost us everything, fresh meat!

  He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Terry’s. His hand reached out, angled toward Mara-Lin-Jaid.

  

  [Al’Ruzan, third of his name]: Give me my knife, Mara-Lin-Jaid.

  Terry felt his heart quicken. If that was the kind of fight they were gonna have, then he couldn’t pull any punches. He’d open a portal through Al’Ruzan and shear the giant in half.

  Pulling his punches against a D-ranked Duelist who was stronger, faster, and twice as heavy would just see him bleeding out in this frozen hell.

  And that, Terry wasn’t going to let happen.

  I’m getting back to my world, Al…even if it means I have to go through you.

  Heavy seconds passed where no one made a move. Mara-Lin-Jaid held the bloody knife in her hands, Al’Ruzan held his own hand out expectantly, and Terry prepared to rip Al’Ruzan in half before the fight could even kick off.

  The tension of the stalemate weighed on his shoulders and he knew that someone would have to break it. Since he refused to bow down to this tyrant, the only other option was to end the fight decisively. He began to feel through space, letting his aura trace along its shape.

  It was different here—like a flavor that was just a bit too heavily salted. He could sense it, move and part it, but it didn’t come as naturally as it did back on Earth.

  All the same, his strength was more than enough for the job. He began to coax a portal open, cut through Al’Ruzan like a knife through butter, when Mara-Lin-Jaid suddenly moved.

  With a flick of the blade, the dire wolf’s nearly frozen blood went flying. Then, she wiped it along her pants leg and tucked it into her belt.

  

  [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: There will not be anymore fighting. Not today.

  Terry held his working loosely, feeling a bit discombobulated by her sudden declaration. On one hand, he didn’t want to kill Al’Ruzan. He’d never killed anyone—sanguine excluded—and he knew from talking to Whipvine that there was always a hidden toll to pay when you took a life.

  On the other hand, nothing irritated him more than petty tyrants.

  So he didn’t let his aura relax, kept his grip on space ready to slice in a blink. Across the cave, Al’Ruzan seemed just as tense, his legs bent as if he were preparing to lunge.

  Mara-Lin-Jaid stepped in the center of them, giving Terry a cryptic look before turning to face Al’Ruzan.

  

  [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: There will not be anymore fighting.

  The tension seemed to drain out of Al’Ruzan, surprising Terry.

  

  [Al’Ruzan]: You’ve seen it?

  She didn’t answer, but Terry thought he saw her head incline by the barest fraction. Suddenly, everything snapped into place. Juan had said something earlier, when Terry was barely coherent.

  He had said, Mara-Lin-Jaid had a vision that you arrived.

  “You’re a Seer!” he blurted out.

  She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed in confusion. Behind her Al’Ruzan bristled, but didn’t attack.

  

  [Terry]: Sorry, I forgot you don’t speak English. I said, you’re a Seer?

  She gave him a patronizing look, as if to say, duh. He chuckled lightly, feeling the pending violence in the air drain away.

  He met Al’Ruzan’s eyes over her shoulder. There were a couple of different tactics he imagined taking with the giant. From his talks with Crunch, Burg, and Blood, he knew that warrior cultures operated on strength and fearlessness. Admitting a reluctance to fight was tantamount to outing yourself as a coward. Weakness was exploited, strength worshiped.

  But that wasn’t him. He didn’t want to beat Al’Ruzan down and claim leadership of the group. They were a team and they needed to work together, in common purpose, not fear.

  

  [Terry]: Listen. Us fighting isn’t gonna accomplish anything. You’ve been here for who knows how long and your prospects of ever seeing your home again are slim to none with the way things have been going.

  Am I right?

  Al’Ruzan’s eyes narrowed slightly, but it was Mara-Lin-Jaid who responded.

  

  [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You are right.

  Terry nodded, thanking her silently for easing the conversation. He continued, not wanting to waste the goodwill she’d earned him with that simple statement.

  

  [Terry]: From my understanding, not only do we not know what the Lakarot is, we don’t even know where the Bloodsplatter Clan is, and have no means of getting to them even if we did.

  He took a deep breath, second-guessing what he had planned to say next. There was a danger to exposing his abilities. He’d been conditioned by both his father and Silver not to expose what he was capable of.

  And yet, if he was going to earn their trust, he needed to lay all the cards on the table.

  

  [Terry]: I can make portals. With some advanced scouting and intel, I can get us wherever we need to go.

  Shocked gasps came from Py and Juan, while Chippy started squeaking excitedly, his little eyes flitting about to each of them. Mara-Lin-Jaid didn’t react at all, her arms crossed, her expression as still as a lake.

  Al’Ruzan, however, suddenly grew animated. He passed Mara-Lin-Jaid in a single step, crossing to Terry in a blink.

  Terry was so thrown off by the sudden aggression, he didn’t have time to part space, stab out with his silver needles, or even put his guard up.

  “Al’Ruzan!” Mara-Lin-Jaid shouted out loud. Terry might have noted her accent had a pleasant lilt to it—if a seven-foot-tall monster of a Duelist wasn’t suddenly standing chest-to-nose with him.

  

  [Al’Ruzan, third of his name]: I call you a liar and shall prove it.

  His hand ripped out, wrapping around Terry’s throat. The prick of his talons on his skin drew blood, the pressure of his fingers digging into his esophagus. It wasn’t enough to crush Terry’s throat, but his breath caught and he gurgled as Al’Ruzan squeezed.

  

  [Al’Ruzan, third of his name]: This is the full squeeze of a D-ranked Duelist. Any one of you would have had your neck snapped at half this pressure. This liar claims to be a Traveler, yet has the physique of a Duelist.

  Terry felt the blood pooling behind his eyes, the dark tunneling in from the sides. He had been blindly clawing at Al’Ruzan’s hands in panic, but knew that he had only seconds before he passed out.

  With a painful shout, he gripped one of Al’Ruzan’s fingers and wrenched it back. It popped with a sickening crunch, dislocating at the bottom knuckle.

  The pressure relented as Al’Ruzan released him. But rather than the pain or anger Terry expected, instead he had a pleased look on his face.

  He’d been proved right…he thought.

  With a smug smile that bared his filed teeth, he turned to address the others. He was clearly crafting some triumphant message for the team, turning his back on Terry.

  The blood dripped down his neck. He swallowed the pooling saliva in his mouth, had to force it past a swollen throat.

  The anger burned hot, spitting inside of him like a bonfire. His mind went blank, his teeth grinding so hard his jaw hurt.

  Without conscious thought, his aura cut across space, slicing a portal into thin air.

  And through Al’Ruzan’s dislocated finger.

  Blood fountained from the nub where his finger had been a moment before. His severed finger fell to the cave floor, lost in the dark. A shocked cry went up from Mara-Lin-Jaid, while the others almost seemed not to understand what had happened, their brains slow to process the blood spurting into the air.

  But Terry wasn’t done. This bully had put his hands on him one too many times.

  He dashed forward—nearly as fast as Al’Ruzan had been—and ripped a left hook into the giant’s back, right where a human kidney would have been. He didn’t stop to think about Al’Ruzan’s reaction, wonder if he had done any damage.

  He moved on pure instinct, muscle memory from years with Whipvine taking over.

  A right hook cracked Al’Ruzan’s jaw as he turned in surprise. A foot hooked behind his leg, timed perfectly with the off balance of his turn. Terry lifted at the same time as he shoved, knocking Al’Ruzan to the ground with an explosive grunt.

  He stirred Master of Light, fighting through the pain in his aura, and blinded Al’Ruzan.

  As the giant clawed at his face, trying to dislodge whatever was blinding him, Terry cracked him with a straight left, then a right.

  Then, he really started kicking Al’Ruzan’s ass.