12 Miles Below

The walking brick gazed up at me, a single violet eye still glowing. There wasn’t any malice or hate in those like To’Aacar, nor that glint of curiosity I’d seen in Wrath’s eyes.

He looked rather bored if anything, as if this was all just a terrible inconvenience and some Logi would fix it up soon enough if he waited long enough with a cup of coffee to draw them in. Even with his head bouncing on the floor, coming loose with a good handful of his chest. His chest had been sliced to ribbons, my occult armshield cut through the bulletproof skin and artificial muscles with no resistance. White oil like fluid came apart, staining the water around.

The rest of the fight ended just about the same moment he had.

An unheard call to retreat had sounded and the machine forces harassing Captain Sagrius instantly fled, regrouping deeper into the tunnel and leaving our team alive. Which only made me nervous. Machines generally ran in one direction, and it wasn’t away from a fight.

Always a pain when mooks are smart. I sent out to Wrath. To’Sefit is not going to make this easy on us.

To’Sefit is not in command of this team. There is a third leading this team of Feathers.

Wasn’t that a nice thought.

The artificial gravity gave out, the world returning back to normal. Water sloshed back into the corridor, washing past our feet and carrying away the Feather’s own smaller parts, leaving a shallow pool that kept going back and forth with waves, rebalancing between the tunnel and the flat ground.

A violet eye continued to stare at me, a good third of the head submerged in the shallow water.

He might want to trash talk a bit? He was pretty quiet during the fight, for a Feather.

… Perhaps. Wrath agreed, clearly aware of her kind’s… dramatics. Nevertheless,this is an opportunity to eliminate another Feather. So long as his soul remains within reach, the sword carried by your clan lord could eliminate him.

That’s if he doesn’t run the moment he sees that drawn out.

To’Aacar’s forged white sword, made with the true division fractal, could cut right into reality itself. Or at least, that’s how it felt like when I’d seen that fractal in use. Maybe this Feather wasn’t aware we had a weapon like that ready to use.

“Report status.” Atius ordered over the comms, taking steps to survey our surroundings, armored boots sloshing through the thin water while his greatcloak was getting mildly soaked at the hem. All around him were cut machine parts, Screamer arms and spider legs alike. I hadn't seen him fight, but the remains scattered around him showed why Deathless were considered second only to Feathers.

A set of responses came back over the general chatter. The few clan knights left had been buried under rubble behind me, unfortunate to have been just a little too far down the corridor. The winterscar knights caught on the other side were busy trying to dig them out.

“Journey estimates it’ll take an hour to cut a full path through that amount of rubble.” Cathida said with an old sigh. “Not often I see toasters make plans. Basically never. Machines are supposed to be as smart as a bug near a light! Peh. All this for a pair of tits. Not even real ones either! Squirlings. Next time, go lick something else than electric sockets.”

Wrath was clearly upset by this, but not on the subject she should have been upset about. Please let the engram know that I have put considerable research into making my che-

Nope. Not going to do that. I shut down Wrath before she could say innocent Wrath things.

We didn’t have the time to dig out the broken path. The temple was swarming with machines already, and more were soon to come. Had to get Wrath into the mite forge and then run for it.

Sagrius had taken a seat against a nearby wall, bringing out a medical kit and unhooking his right boots to tend to the injury. The soul fractal cut off most physical sensations, so pain wasn’t a factor, he could easily continue duty with the broken foot for now. He still didn’t want to lose a leg, knights didn’t spend every day in their armors back home. And he knew we’d be on the move pretty soon.

Kidra was lifting up the dead knights, bringing out small plates, hooking them up to her necklace. “Both stable.” She called out.

Ankah’s voice scratched against the chatter, static fading into her voice even with the armors scrubbing out most of it and reconstructing her words to be more clear. “Shadowsong to Away team. Be aware, To’Sefit has left her post and is going deeper into the temple. We opened fire and held her for a few minutes. Fractal plates floating around her were unshielded and vulnerable to shots. Effect was negligible, the Feather repaired them with that black smoke of theirs.”

“How long did it take her to fix up bullet hits?” Windrunner asked, likely considering the tactical benefit. We all carried rifles with a few mags for each. They’d been mostly brought to deal with the smaller machines, but if we could leverage it against a Feather…

“Five to ten seconds at most.” Ankah answered. “Be aware, she returns fire almost instantly against threats like this. Protecting her weapon is likely a priority.”

Lord Atius nodded, kneeling by the Feather's left behind tower shield, examining it. “A vulnerability is a vulnerability. A few seconds in a fight may be all we need.”

"Know something about the shield?" I asked, pointing at the bronze slab Atius was tapping an armored hand at.

"I believe it's a cut section of a mite blast door. Never seen a chunk discard like that, the material has always been impervious to everything. I'm not sure how the machines were able to get a section of it..." He hummed, thinking. "From the unaltered state of the thing, once they had their cut, they weren't able to do anything more with it." He took an experimental tug at the handle. The shield remained where it was, standing upright in the corridor, unmovable even with his relic armor. "As I suspected. If only we had more time, bringing this back for study could have been a boon."

Got any idea about it Wrath? I asked our expert in Feathers. How'd a Feather in the middle of nowhere find a mite blast door section.

It is possible this Feather intercepted mites while they were constructing a new blast doorway, and extracted a piece from it. That is the best I could guess. He may have spent months waiting for the moment.

“I’d bet an airspeeder punching more than just bullet holes in those fractal plates would ruin her day.” Windrunner said over comms, having been mulling over Ankah's report.

“You don’t have the funds for an Airspeeder, Windrunner.” Father’s scratchy voice sounded from Kidra’s necklace. “I’ve seen what you spend your coin on.”

Windrunner paused for a half second and then cackled. “Harassing me even from the afterlife. Heh. Feels like old times never went away. Just missing Ironreach and Shadowsong here for the full team. Guess a Captain and the rookies will have to do in a pinch.”

“They will. Everyone started as a rookie once.” Atius said, now making his way to the Feather’s decapitated head. “The next generation has always stepped up to the plate when called, time and time again. The clock move for everyone but me. This group is no different. Trust your fellows Windrunner, they're the ones who will carry the torch forward after all.”

The full talley returned on our HUDs over the banter. Kidra, Atius and I were the only ones on this side of the rock collapse that hadn’t been injured in any way. Sagrius had his ankle and calf broken into pieces from the Feather’s hammer, but Windrunner had been hit the hardest of us all. In midair with a full swing of that hammer. He’d ended with a heavy amount of broken bones all across his body, though he hadn’t flatlined like the other knights. Guessing it had to do with the other knights being smashed between the hammer and a wall.

He shrugged his shoulders at the medical readout, noticing my own gaze looking him over. The knight hadn’t bothered to open a kit or anything. “That head poking out your sack, she’ll be able to heal all injuries I hear. We restore her, and she will restore me.” He said, pointing at the white hair and eyes left sulking in the sack. “Can’t go back to the surface to Ironreach like this, prick won’t let me forget it for years. He'll start telling me I should have made more jokes about proposing to a girl after the expedition's done like he does.”

Kidra walked over to me from the other side, lifting the ruins of a knightbreaker shell. “Lord Arius and I still have an unspent knightbreaker round. The rest of our ordinance is behind that pile of rock, unfortunately. As is most of our ammunition. We will need to ration our resources now.”

She’d brought all three spent shells to me for inspection. The Feather had gone out of his way to eliminate each whenever he had a chance, outright putting that as a higher priority above fighting off Windrunner and Kidra near the end there.

“Yeah, that’s not getting fixed.” I muttered, dangling the mutilated remains of my blood, sweat and tears. The chains had been warped, caught between a heavy hammer or shield and unyielding rock. Squashed, which meant the internal fractals had also been bent.

The fractal of heat etched inside the palms of my hand lit up, quickly turning the chains red hot. I crumpled them into a ball in my armored hands. “Can’t let the enemy recover anything working from these. They aren’t using chain weapons themselves, best not give them more ideas.”

“We’ll need to continue forward.” Atius said, looking down the collapsed tunnel. Only a minute or so had passed since the end of the fight, but already the enemy was regrouping and probably planning more things out. “There isn’t time to dig out a tunnel here. Winterscars, recover the clan knights from the rubble and rejoin the Shadowsongs above ground.”

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, as the Winterscar knights were having a silent internal debate about that.

“It’ll be fine.” I spoke out. “Kidra and I will make it out.”

“Understood m’lo-- master Keith.” One of the Winterscar knights spoke. “We’ll recover the trapped knights and rendezvous with the Shadowsongs.”

The comms clicked shut. Atius made no mention of the possible insubordination. Instead, he grabbed the head of the defeated Feather, lifting it up out of the water. “And you. Who are you? Who sent you?”

The violet eye turned from its perpetual stare in my direction, locking onto its captor. “I am To’Orda. The one of resolve dyed ash.”

I sent a private comms, though I knew that Feathers could overhear under the armors. Had to make it vague. “You could use To’Aacar’s last gift to help us all out here.” I said, hoping it was cryptic enough the Feather wouldn’t guess, but clear enough the Deathless would.

Atius brought a single finger to drum lightly on the pommel of his sword, the only indication he’d understood the message. “Ask Wrath if they can track us with a head."

The head contains the neuromorphic portions along with the general CMOS architecture and processing power. Wireless systems are located inside, although these are used only as last resort and are far less powerful compared to the systems integrated within the rest of the combat shell. The signal should be easily drowned out with your current equipment.

"She says he's got a small budget-tier emergency whistle with him." I said. "But we can get the armors to jam it so long as we keep him close to us. Just in case. We'll keep him gagged, metaphorically."

Atius nodded. "Let’s get moving then, we can interrogate him as we make our way in, for however long he remains. For now, we’ll avoid the rooftops, as To’Sefit might be able to get a bead on us.”

I suspect she’ll start shelling us through the walls anyhow, but not letting her see where we were had already proved effective in the forest. The group gathered together and we started our path to the goal, jumping over rocks for easier traversal, splashing down against the water anytime it wasn’t possible.

“Does your leader know what we’re here for?” Atius asked the head.

“Don’t know.” If it still had shoulders, To’Orda would have shrugged I think. “Ask him yourself.”

Cathida hissed. “A comms frequency ping was sent out from the head in wide band. We muffled the signal without problem, but the contents were for us. Don’t like this. Ping’s probably the channel the Feathers are using or something. Recommend you avoid it, but we both know you’re a brat that doesn’t listen to his betters.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea why I’m being accused of that, and quite frankly, I feel personally insulted here. How dare you, wench.”

“Delightful. Wench. Is that really the best you have, deary?”

I can offer a list of alternatives. Wrath sent to me. I’ve documented many new terms Cathida has shared in prior training sessions.

I shushed her before she could make things worse, of course. Wrath was not particularly happy about that, given she felt proud of having assembled such a long list.

“Should we take the invitation?” I asked Atius instead, as we sprinted through the broken temple. The chambers all had little or no roofing left stable, all of it crumpled long ago into the ground, the pool of water almost always a constant no matter where we were. Some parts looked deep enough to reach our knees.

We were moving on pure luck, trying to follow the general direction where the mite forge should be. Running into dead ends or being forced to sidetrack was common. All through the sprint, we could hear machines lurking around us, wailing out, but none came in sight.

“The machines already know we're here.” The Deathless sighed, having mulled it over for the past minute. “Perhaps it would be good to introduce ourselves, go ahead and do the honors lad, I doubt there’s much you could say that would make things worse. They already want us dead.”

“Everyone’s a critic.” I grumbled, swapping the frequency, taking a few coughs to clear my throat. Journey automatically set safeties on the comms to slow down any triangulation, same thing Abraxas used to keep us from finding him. We were set the moment it clicked green on my HUD. “Hello Feathers. I think we haven’t been introduced yet.” Nailed it.

“Keith Winterscar.” A low voice answered. “Male. Age twenty one. Last recorded dead by To’Wrathh’s blade. Last spotted alive in the digital sea, somehow. Percent probability of being involved with To’Aacar’s destruction at near ninety two.” That wasn’t To’Sefit, so this must be the mysterious leader of the pack. His voice didn’t sound deep, but there was still that synthetic quality to it, the same that had tinted To’Aacar’s voice. Wrath had that issue ironed out already, as she proudly reported to me before over lunch once. Wonder if it had to do with the generation?

“I see I have fans. Who should I write this autograph to?”

“I am To’Avalis.”

Nothing else came after, which was odd. I thought Feathers were rather strict about their names and took pride in their meanings. Wrath had told me it was a general machine quirk. “Any reason to come after us on this lovely day?”

“There’s no need to continue this act, Winterscar. We both know why you are here. And we both know what I want. Surrender To’Wrathh into my custody, and I will allow you and your team to leave without harm.”

“Does everyone think I put myself into these situations because I’m trying to live a few years longer? If I wanted safety, I’d have ditched everything and ran off already to retire. Besides, we’re the ones holding To’Orda’s head right now, not the other way around. Think that says a lot for our survival chance.”

The voice didn’t answer for a moment, as if contemplating. “Surrender To’Wrathh’s shell and I will argue in her defense against the pale lady’s coming anger, and let you stay at her side unimpeded. I can offer a modified version of the Chosen implants that will skirt rules Mother set. You will have immunity to machine kind, without the shackles that come with the gift, letting you stay at To'Wrathh's side without encroaching on your free will."

Oh. This Feather was different. That offer wasn’t half-bad even. Know who he is? I nudged Wrath. Friend of yours?

No. I do not know this Feather, or most Feathers. The only one I had contact and communication with was To’Aacar and briefly To’Sefit.

"This Chosen thing, not sure how you'd sell it to Relinquished in the first place." I asked, curious.

"She is interested in destroying humanity as a whole. A single human, or even a thousand humans, are insignificant to her gaze. You will die of old age long before she notices you exist."

“Why would you even try to defend Wrath?”

“I’ve been sent to investigate To’Aacar’s death and nothing more. I hold no interest in what happens to you or To’Wrathh after I’ve submitted my report and all relevant people of interest. I can recommend To’Wrathh to be rehabilitated, or sent elsewhere with supervision instead of being destroyed.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I get this nagging feeling that’s not going to end well. Like that subtle sense of danger watching a fifty ton airspeeder about to crash into you.”

“I have successfully isolated you from the majority of your group. To’Orda will return shortly. He remains in your hands out of boredom, not inability. His personal presence isn’t needed to craft a new shell, it is already in progress. In addition, I’ve already learned most of your abilities and offensive capabilities and will ferret out any last tricks you have shortly. I recommend you reconsider wisely, if not for yourself, than for the others you’ve brought with you. Are you willing to let more of them die in exchange for a machine?”

“When you put it like that, I think you’re running scared.”

“I believe in results first. If I can avoid a fight, I will. When you change your mind, this channel will remain open.” To’Avalis said. “You will need it.”

The connection clicked shut.

Next chapter - It got worse

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