12 Miles Below

Can we take a moment to talk about birds?

Yes, birds. That strange mythical creature which supposedly defied gravity by flapping wings and feathers. Those animals. Clan culture is filled with references to angels and birds, mostly as symbols, but the only actual birds we have living and breathing are chickens - and those clearly prove birds can’t fly.

For the longest time growing up, I was convinced this was some kind of a running joke in the archives, and that birds weren’t real. Traders brought up older books filled with pictures of birds, some of them clearly soaring through the air and supposedly traveling at insane speeds - faster than humans could run. Some even said they’d come across actual birds on their trips to the Undersider cities. The entire time, I was beyond skeptical about it. I draw my suspension of disbelief at the notion that evolution could somehow finesse physics that much and get away with it.

Animals can swim through water, fish prove it. But air is far too thin for any kind of animal to just swim through air. Ridiculous.

When I was younger, I asked a pilgrim about it and the man just seemed perplexed at how insistent younger me was about birds not being real. Yes, he confirmed, birds are real and they fly.

No, he doesn’t have any pictures or video to prove it. Why not? Because birds were a natural part of Undersider lives to the point it’s mundane to them. Do I take pictures of every pipe rat I see? No. So why would he?

I couldn’t argue with that logic, and the younger me had to accept that birds were a real thing. But until I saw a bird flying through the air, the skeptical part of me remained.

It’s been quite a few years since I ever thought of birds other than seeing them as symbols for the impossible. Up until today, deep underground, as my knights and I camped under a massive tree filled with red leaves.

The mite caverns had grown until they were no longer tunnels at all, but a massive cave-like places with a grove of trees stretching high up in each section, with shimmering red leaves. Trees had been a strange sight to me already, the sort of plantlife I’m used to seeing grows on walls, or small green stalks. But given that the armor could protect me from any kind of wildlife, I wasn’t scared of being poisoned or that the plants would try to eat me.

Far above the branches, hundreds of birds chirped and nested, making a racket. The knights and I didn’t notice them until we were nearby, where we realized the strange sounds we were hearing were above us. They didn’t make any move to escape when we got close to the base of the tree, nor did they seem to care about us at all.

A hundred tiny red chickens. I’d just already assumed these birds were like their chunkier cousins, except clearly agile enough to climb a tree and hop around due to their smaller size. So had all the other knights, as we got settled in for another night underground, once the gawking was wrapped up.

Since the last blast door we passed a few hours ago, the region had lacked any kind of machine encounter. As if the whole place had been cleaned, or that they’d all given up on controlling this land.

While I wasn’t sure what was the cause, the lack of machines turned out to be more of a setback. The constant fights had kept our power cells topped off as we scavenged off the dead machines. Not to mention those encounters had given the knights and myself some good hands-on training with the dome fractal that now covered our entire armors head to toe, making us look like walking cracked ceramic armors when the fractals were lit to life.

Some fractals were geometric. Others looked like a child had been given a pencil and told to scribble a line in every direction. The dome fractal was the latter, with no discernible pattern. So etching it all over our armors made them look like they’d taken thousands of minor cuts in a blender. Plus, just activating them lit the fractals in occult blue, which meant once we were back on the surface, we could use these as sheer intimidation. Walking across the white wastes while glowing occult blue usually meant Deathless.

Besides that aesthetics, the dome fractals worked out well. During testing, the user needed only to spear out a soul tendril into the fractal nearest to the oncoming attack and trigger it fully from the more dormant state. And with enough practice, we could have a few dozen soul tendrils stretched out across the armor, connecting to all the shield fractals.

I always felt like my soul had a natural round shape while nestled into the soul fractal, and being stretched out, twisted up into the Winterblossom technique, besides sprouting out a few dozen roots all over the armor, made me feel more like some kind of slime monster stuck inside the armor instead. The Occult was really gods damned weird. But can’t argue with the results.

And talking about strange physics defying events, I got to see birds flying. One moment, the group and I were spending time gathering materials to cook our meal, and the next moment, something spooked all the tiny chickens in the tree.

And they leaped out like a hundred red leaves floating into the air, if only for a moment before purpose carried them away. Like some kind of invisible wind blew through the swarm of birds, they twisted and dived and moved with each other. A red sheet of shimmering feathers and chirps, casually defying gravity.

The group and I stared at the birds as they flew around us. Sometimes the swarm split up, a few isolated birds flying off for a moment before joining back in, like droplets of water kicked up from a splash, inevitably returning back to the main body.

They soared away, flying as one whole, to another distant tree.

It was a magical sight that reminded me there really was a first time for everything. The stories of angels with wings, transcending the mortal earth and leaving behind all the old hatreds to follow the three gods into exile far above the world felt that much more real rather than some mythological story. I had to see it to believe in it, and here it was before me, proof that life finds a way, even in the strangest ways.

We traveled through that forest for another day and a half, before the scenery and trees faded away back into rock granite, this time looking like closely stacked pillars, each with six sides. Hexagons, rising up in the dozens of various sizes, all made of stone without a single bit of moss or life anywhere to be spotted.

It was an utter change of environments the mites had set up. The cavern ceiling was once again visible, and this time there was no artificial sunlight at the top. Instead, everything around felt dead once more.

A feeling of dread settled on our shoulders as we traveled through this section of mountainous terrain.

We didn’t need to travel far before I found out exactly where this feeling had come from.

Turning around a corner, we entered a rather large clearing, to which a small group of people were waiting patiently there. Five Chosen knights, standing stock still with weapons drawn.

And at their front, lazily sitting on one of the hexagonal chair sized pillars, was none other than To’Aacar himself.

He looked better compared to the last time I fought him. His spear was back in one piece, and given that he’d portaled off without the scraps the last time, I’d take a good guess this was a replacement. The rest of his body looked functional, albeit still seriously torn apart. That one malevolent violet eye was staring right at me, the other one still ripped apart from one of the stray chains last time.

He cracked his neck to the side, back and forth, rolling his shoulder, before standing back up off his seat. As if he had to deal with things far below his paygrade but still needed to make a show of it.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” I said, taking a step forward while the rest of my knights drew arms. We’d been expecting this kind of ambush. The clan lord had as well, so time to put all cards on the table and see what happens next. I’m counting only five Chosen knights right now. The others must be lurking around.

“I don’t have time to entertain you.” The Feather started with no preamble. “Surrender, give me the information I want and I’ll let you leave alive.”

Okay, wasn't expecting that. A fight was more expected, deals though? ”That’s pretty cut and dry coming from you. Where’s the speeches and monologues?”

He tutted, looking beyond irritated. “There are greater matters I need to deal with than you, as of now. Give me what I want and I let you go your way. Should be an easy choice even a monkey could pick up on.”

I brought out my own weapons, the knightbreaker on my left hand and Cathida’s long-sword on my right. “No, I don’t think I will.”

The Feather all but spat to his side, taking a step forward to hop off the pillar down to the ground. “Don’t push your luck, Winterscar. You’re a side attraction at best.” He lifted the speartip right at me. “The sooner I deal with this farce, the sooner I can return to handling the true threats. And don’t think I haven’t already spotted the larger group trailing behind you, I’m taking care of them as I speak. I have my own pet humans here to deal with yours.”

Ah. So that’s why there were only five Undersider knights at his side and not the full number. The rest are out fighting somewhere nearby.

I’ve had my hunches that the clan lord had sent out an elite group of knights as a counter-ambush when the Chosen latched onto the bait that I was. And given the lack of machines these last few days, these knights have been lurking around the area for some time. Fits the reasoning why the clan lord ordered me to delay my departure.

So the good news in all this was that if To’Aacar had already sent out a large swath of his Chosen knights against the clan lord’s elite picks in a counter-ambush, it’s no contest. “You really haven’t done your due diligence.” I said. “Your men are already dead. You basically sent them to their graves.”

The spear twirled in his hand, igniting. “Hoo? Amusing. My new conscripts are very much still alive last I checked.”

“You’re bluffing. Chosen knights can’t match surface knights.”

The Feather scoffed, clearly insulted in a way I hadn't managed before. “Having to lie to a human to get what I want is beneath me. I will never be that desperate and wreched. I am To'Aacar, I take what I want."

"Doesn't change any facts here. Undersiders just don't have the same quality as us surface knights. There's no way your gang of misfits beats our relic knights."

He smiled then, a wide malicious grin filled with malice. "I’ve learned some interesting things about your so-called relic armors in the past few days. Urs locked them up so tightly just to protect them from someone like me. But the human inside? The nervous system? No hardlocks or encrypted defense in that wet meatwear you insects call a mind.” The spear went to his side, as if sending a command, and one of the Chosen knights shambled forward. “All I had to do was to take control from the inside out. One small chip right at the spine and the rest is easy.”

I knew right from the first step that something was wrong. The way the knight moved, like a… like a puppet.

Oh. Oh, that’s not good. “You’re controlling them directly?”

He hummed with satisfaction. “I found myself needing an army that I could trust would never turn on me. I saw what you did to your pet armor and thought it was a good idea to borrow. Most generous of you.”

“I charge for consultations.” I said. “You better pay my fee for the idea, or things are going to get ugly.”

That got a malicious grin from him, best he could do with half his cheek ripped apart on one side. “Talking back so casually, as if you were a Deathless playing around. One measly little human, so far out of their depth. You have no context to fully understand exactly who you stand before, but my titles were earned. I've survived this far for a reason.” The single violet eye outright twitched, and I glimpsed a shadow of something darker float through his features. He shook his head, clearing off whatever shadow haunted the ruins of his face. “It doesn’t matter.” The spear swung down, and his stance took a slight crouch. “Give me what I want. Or shut up, and die quickly.”

Well. Knowing that all these chosen knights behind him were potentially as fast and as skilled as he was, even if it’s only a fraction of his skill, that put a rather large question mark on living. Normally, heroes are supposed to fight against the enemy at all times, right? Well, there’s another saying: Discretion is the better part of valor.

“Are you serious about your offer? I tell you want you want, and you fuck off and let me go on my own way without issue?” I asked.

“Coming to your senses?” He asked, sounding genuinely surprised. The spear lifted slightly, his position unwinding a small bit. “Unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. Consider today your lucky day. The time I save not having to deal with you is time that I value more. Hence the deal. Don't take this lightly, I've never offered a human anything like this, ever.”

I wasn’t here to fight To’Aacar. Or hunt down the Chosen either. I was here for my sister. And what happened in the bunker was only a few back-and-forth questions of no real importance, mostly Atius shaking down Tsuya for all she’s worth.

Would it really be a mistake to tell the Feather? Get him out of my hair for good? I didn’t need to tell him about Cathida’s personal mission before she died, or what she was carrying with her. And strictly speaking, I could probably omit the audio recording part guiding me to Talen’s spell record. Journey had long ago purged that and was specifically hard-wired to ignore its existence. I could technically give him the logs without having to worry about the spellbook being uncovered.

There was a lot I could give him without actually giving him anything important. Room to wiggle around.

“Cathida,” I whispered. “Would you stop me if I folded to his demand?”

The armor replied instantly. “Cathida herself? The old bat absolutely would, she’d have you strangled for it. You’re basically betraying the goddess, highest level of heresy and damnation, blah blah blah, all the guilded speeches and insults. Journey itself only cares about keeping you alive. It’s rather hopeful that you do give up here, best odds of survival. But relic armors don’t make decisions for their owners, they just deal with the fallout.”

“You think he won’t try to kill me?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea on that, deary. Neither does Journey. The scraphead does look like he’s pressed for time and we’re a roadblock with glimmering teeth."

I raised my voice back up. “If I tell you, what’s to stop you from killing me after?”

The Feather tutted, spear lifting further up. “Fighting you comes at an opportunity cost to me. One I’d rather not pay right now. I… acknowledge you will take some amount of time to subdue. At least an hour or two, depending on how stubborn the lot of you are. Any other day, I’d have all the time in the world to play around. Not anymore.”

I wonder how far I could push this. “So, I’ve got information you need and you can’t waste the time trying to beat it out of me, eh?”

He outright growled. ”You should note, Winterscar, I don’t need you alive.”

“Well, if you kill me, you’ll never know what happened in the bunker.” I answered back with a careless shrug. “I think you should sweeten this deal a little more. Might jog my memory, who knows.”

That didn't do much to improve his mood. Cathida outright started laughing. Sagrius, my own gods damned captain, started to stare at me as if I had sprouted another head. Even through the visorless helmet I could tell. "M'lord?" He said in a strained voice, impressively communicating an entire paragraph of panic in that one word.

"What? You forget what House you're a part of Captain?" I shot back, feeling a little betrayed here.

“I think you forget, your sister was in that broken down shell of a bunker too," To'Aacar said "She must have seen everything you have. I could kill you where you stand and still have a second chance at completing my mission, all thanks to her." The Feather leaned casually on his spear, "Family, eh? Always the sword hanging over your head. Believe me, I know all about that. I’m here because you’re the easiest of the two. Don’t make me work for my lunch.”

If he thought that would rattle me, it completely backfired on him.

It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders instead - Kidra was alive. Better, she was a harder target than I was, so she’s probably in that Undersider city with plenty of surrounding firepower to borrow from. The mission I’d come down here for was worthwhile.

"If you're so pressed for time, why not come back later?" I said, calming down. "I'll give you my business card even, we can catch up over coffee. You do what you gotta do, seems important right?"

"Were it so simple." He said, and I could tell he meant it. "I am loyal to the pale lady, and completing my last objective will let me gain audience with her. She couldn't care less about anything, except for Tsuya." The spear flickered again in the air as he twirled it to point directly at me. "And you so happen to have exactly what I need. How convenient."

I turned to look at Sagrius who stood wordlessly at my side. His own helmet met my gaze, slowly and with calm. No words were spoken, but somehow I knew exactly where he stood. If I chose to try and fight a god, he would be swinging a sword at my side. Maybe he'd complain a bit, but he'd be there. If I picked to fall back and retreat, he’d be there too, carrying me out if it came down to that.

The rest of the Winterscar knights behind him gripped their swords, ready in stance for whatever order I gave. We had the knightbreakers, the new swords with matching techniques, and all of us covered our armors with the shield fractal. Each of my knights could take on at least five times the punishment a normal knight could handle with that single fractal alone. I had Cathida, with all her merged combat skills and my own spells as a sorcerer to supplement her. If all went wrong, we could even overclock the armor with the administrator permissions I had access to in a last ditch attempt to win. A group of clan knights had clearly followed behind us, no doubt all of them capable of using the Winterblossom technique. I didn’t know if they were winning or losing against To’Aacar’s puppets, but I could reasonably guess they were giving him a hard time. Else he’d have told me the rest of his army was on the way back.

He hadn’t. And I think I believe him when he says bluffing is beneath him.

To’Aacar, right arm limp, eye gouged out, legs and body still shredded and hardly repaired. Somehow, instinct told me that even with all these handicaps, he was still more than capable of squashing me into the floor, armor and all if he went one on one against me. Worse - he effectively had five copies of himself controlling the Chosen knights against my own group. I wasn’t sure exactly how much of his skills were passed through, or how effective the knights were, but the prick certainly seemed confident he could take me and my knights on.

Every advantage I could call on was right here with me, except for surprise. That was the only reason To’Aacar even offered the chance to walk away. I’m still a threat, and even he wasn’t arrogant enough to deny that. If there was ever a time to fight and kill the scraphead for good, it was now.

But picking a fight with him here was surely going to see some of my men killed for it, if not run a risk of dying myself against what was ultimately an optional opponent. And even if I won, he’d be back.

My fat mouth usually gets me into trouble.

Time to see if it could get me out of it.

Next chapter - Trap triggered

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