Vael’dargar stopped at the edge of the trapdoor, gripping her spear tightly. Without hesitation, she drove the tip straight down, the metal screeching in protest as the warped hinges and frame crumpled beneath her strike. The noise was sharp and grating.

  She turned to us, her expression unreadable, but her voice was dangerously low. “Wait ten minutes. Then follow me.”

  We all started protesting at once, frustration and worry bubbling over, but she cut us off with a glare, sharp, commanding, absolute. “Do you think you’ll be any help to me?”

  The words hit harder than any blow.

  Seeing our anxious, defeated expressions, her tone softened, just barely. “I’ll do everything in my power to get her back.”

  Bel looked like he wanted to argue more , his fists clenched at his sides, but Sylvan reached for him, whispering something in his pointed ear. His shoulders tensed for a moment before he exhaled sharply and gave a stiff nod. “Please get her back.”

  Vael’dargar didn’t respond. She just turned and dropped through the trapdoor without looking back.

  We huddled around the opening, weapons drawn, staring down into the darkness below. The tunnel beneath us sat twenty feet down, a ladder made from the same strange green metal as the Froskari weapons bolted securely to the wall.

  Joro began pacing, his movements restless, agitated. His voice shook when he finally spoke. “It’s my fault. I’m the damn tank, I’m supposed to protect her.”

  Bel’s head snapped toward him, his expression sharp as he grabbed Joro by the shoulders and forced him to a stop. “Don’t you fucking dare say that.” His voice was low but firm, more serious than I had ever heard it. “I’m the team leader. It’s my responsibility.”

  I had never heard Bel cuss before. It sounded wrong coming from him, out of place .

  I took a slow breath, trying to keep my own voice steady. “It’s nobody’s fault. Shit happens. Battles are unpredictable.” My grip tightened on my weapon. “Stop assigning blame and get ready to move.”

  Sylvan was hugging herself, her shoulders shaking slightly, while Thal’s fingers were clenched white around the broken edge of the trapdoor. No one spoke after that.

  I forced myself to believe it. Vael’dargar will get her back. She has to.

  The first sound made us all recoil. A deep, echoing crack, like stone being torn apart. Then, it was followed by a cacophony, metal screeching, high pitched screams, dull, sickening thuds. The sheer volume of it made my stomach twist.

  Joro stepped cautiously to the opening, peering down. “Damn” He exhaled, shaking his head. “We would’ve been useless if we went with her.”

  I let out a nervous chuckle, nodding. Yeah. No shit.

  We waited, listening, tense and silent. Then, after a few more minutes, we knew it was time to move.

  Joro descended first, landing lightly before whistling up to signal it was clear. I followed, then the others.

  The tunnel stretched endlessly in both directions, long and unadorned, lacking the intricate carvings of the upper tunnels. Pipes lined the walls, some cracked and leaking steam, hissing softly into the stale air. Dim, yellow tinted crystals illuminated the path, their glow flickering slightly, casting warped shadows against the metal. The air here felt thick, heavier than before, and an underlying sweet, rotting scent burned at the back of my throat.

  Joro adjusted his shield, bracing himself as he scanned both paths. “So, which way?”

  In perfect, eerie coordination, a loud scream echoed from up ahead.

  Sylvan let out a nervous chuckle. “Follow the torture sounds, I guess.”

  We started forward cautiously, Joro leading with his shield raised, and me watching our backs.

  The first signs of destruction weren’t subtle.

  Smoking corpses . Scattered debris. Broken pipes leaking steam into the already heavy air. Masonry cracked and shattered. A hole in the ceiling, connecting back to the dome above, the edges jagged and splintered. The aftermath of a massacre.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The Froskari bodies were ruined. Most of them were slumped over, smoke still curling from their bodies, clean, precise stabs to vital points, instant kills. But some were barely recognizable. Just mangled smears of flesh and blood, as if they had been obliterated rather than simply killed.

  I knew Vael’dargar was strong. We all did.

  But it had only been ten minutes.

  I exhaled, staring at what was left of them. Damn.

  I mumbled, barely realizing I said it aloud. “I kinda feel bad for them.”

  No one argued. The others just nodded silently, eyes flicking from corpse to corpse.

  We kept moving forward.

  The tunnel stretched endlessly before us, its stone walls slick with condensation, the dim yellow crystal lighting barely enough to cut through the thick, cloying air. Every step forward made it harder to breathe, the heavy scent of decay thickening until it felt like we were inhaling something tangible, something rotten and damp that clung to the insides of our throats. The sweet, sickly smell of something long dead. The further we went, the more destruction we found. The aftermath of a slaughter. More corpses, still smoking, their armor warped and broken , their bodies twisted in ways that shouldn't have been possible.

  The deeper we went, the more we heard. The echoes of a war we weren’t part of. The shrill hiss of bursting pipes. The agonized, fading screams of the dying. The distant, rhythmic pounding of something heavy slamming against metal. And beneath it all, a steady, pulsing hum, like the heartbeat of the underground itself, rattling through the floor, vibrating in my bones.

  Joro gripped his shield tighter, his eyes darting to every shadow, every flickering light. Bel had stopped trying to keep his usual stoic demeanor , his face set in grim determination but also clear anxiety . Sylvan looked pale, her lips pressed into a tight line, her fingers twitching slightly as if she was resisting the urge to summon a spell. Thal muttered prayers under his breath, his knuckles still white around his spear. We all felt it. The wrongness of this place.

  We rounded another corner, A Froskari lay pinned against the wall, impaled on a twisted length of metal piping. His chest had caved inward, the impact so violent it had embedded him into the stone itself. But that wasn’t what made my stomach twist. It was the fact that he was still twitching, his mouth opening and closing in weak, gurgling gasps, as if his body refused to accept death. His milky white eyes flickered toward us, unfocused. Then he went still.

  At first, I thought it was my imagination, but then I saw it, a reddish glow pulsing from the tunnel ahead. The sounds of machinery had reached a deafening pitch. The hiss of steam vents became a constant exhale, the clang of pistons and the gurgling boil of heated water echoing through the underground.

  Then, the tunnel opened up. into a massive underground chamber, unlike anything we had seen before. Huge pipes jutted from the floor, curving upward and disappearing into the ceiling, while others ran along the walls in tangled metallic veins. The entire space was illuminated by the pulsing red glow of massive boilers, their surfaces slick with condensation, steam curling off them in thick waves. The heat was immediate, pressing against my skin, suffocating.

  But none of that mattered.

  Because there, at the center of it all, was Llin.

  She was in a makeshift cage, bound with thick metal restraints, her expression set in a deep scowl of frustration. Her sharp eyes locked onto us the second we entered, but before she could say anything, she hesitated, her gaze flicking past us, toward something else.

  I followed her stare.

  And froze.

  Hundreds of Froskari surrounded Vael’dargar.

  It wasn’t just a skirmish. It wasn’t a battle. It was a slaughter, and she was at its center.

  She didn’t look like a person.

  She was a blur, moving so fast that my eyes couldn’t track her, only the aftermath of her passing. Every time she appeared, something died. A single movement and a Froskari was torn apart, their bodies crumpling before they even realized they’d been struck. She weaved between them, untouchable, unreadable. Even their weapons, solid metal, brutal and deadly, couldn’t find her.

  I felt my hammer lower, my grip slackening.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered in awe

  Joro just stared, jaw tight.

  Even Llin, tied down in a cage, wasn’t struggling anymore. She was just watching, her eyes wide with awe.

  I didn’t even realize my thoughts had slipped out until I heard my own voice mutter, “I need to become like that.”

  Sylvan choked back an incredulous laugh.

  Even as the battle raged, I caught glimpses of her expression. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t desperate. There was no sign of exhaustion, no sense that she was struggling.

  She was completely in control.

  And then, it was over.

  The last Froskari fell, their body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

  Silence.

  The only sounds left were the distant hum of the boilers and the mechanical heartbeat of the city.

  For a moment, none of us spoke. None of us even moved.

  “HEY!”

  Llin’s voice cut through the silence, filled with all the rage of someone who had just remembered they were locked in a cage.

  “YOU IDIOTS WANT TO STOP GAWKING AND GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE?”

  Joro jolted forward first, rushing toward the cage, but before any of us could reach her Vael’dargar moved.

  One moment, she was standing among the carnage. The next, she was in front of us, her movements so fluid I almost didn’t register them.

  She barely looked winded.

  She dusted off her hands. Then she glared.

  “You were frozen, all of you,” she said, voice clipped and cold. “Staring at me like I was a damn performance piece. Do you think this was a spectacle? A game?”

  The words hit harder than I expected.

  Joro stiffened, but he didn’t argue.

  Thal looked down.

  Sylvan crossed her arms, biting her lip.

  “Your teammate was right there,” she continued. “Alone. Vulnerable. And instead of moving, instead of taking the chance to get her out while I was clearing the way, you stood there.”

  She exhaled sharply, shaking her head.

  “Always watch your flanks. Always pay attention to the battlefield. I won’t always be here to save your asses.”

  Llin groaned from the cage. “Yeah, yeah, lecture later, GET ME OUT.”

  Vael’dargar rolled her eyes and sliced through the restraints in a single motion. Llin scrambled to her feet, rubbing her wrists, before looking at the hundreds of corpses scattered across the room.

  She let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

  No one disagreed.

  We didn’t linger.

  Without another word, we moved, through the tunnel, past the remnants of battle, and finally, back above ground.