Hold the line (944)
Damn termites. What the hell are those ka'armodo doing over there? They seem to pop out reinforcements just as fast as we kill them. I refuse to believe they can spit out tier four and five monsters so quickly without incurring some kind of cost. After all, the Colony has been doing this for months and have honed the process to be as efficient as possible. We have an entire caste of dedicated teachers, an academy with a constantly adjusted curriculum and Queens with the most beneficial mutations for mass producing the highest quality individuals.
It's just not possible that they are better at it than we are!
And in truth, they aren't. Our enemies may be a higher tier than would normally be expected from their numbers, but their cores remain weak. The question is how the lizards managed to maintain the quality of their insect troops, or in fact raise it, whilst creating increased production to such a ludicrous degree. If they'd been able to produce these sorts of numbers from the beginning, I don't think the Mother Tree would have been able to hold out as long as she did, not while withholding the bruan'chii from assisting her.
"Eldest, welcome back."
"Good to see you, Eldest!"
"Work hard!"
"I will. Make sure you take an appropriate break though!"
The ants who called out to me so cheerfully a moment ago hesitate in their stride at my mention of taking a break before they continue on their way. The fear of the torpor enforcers continues to apply even here during this desperate, ongoing battle. Tired soldiers are sloppy soldiers and sloppy soldiers get their own allies killed. Personally I'm thankful that they've continued to maintain a strict standard of rest amongst my siblings, even in these circumstances.
But I'll be the first to admit that those standards have slipped from the traditional eight. It's a war after all.
"Eldest! The meeting is in here!" I see Advant calling me over with a wave of her antennae and follow her into the prepared chamber in the Colony's main staging ground. Inside I find the usual carved table - I really have to find out who makes these damn things, they are spectacular - along with each member of the council who has joined me on this venture.
"Why?" Victor asks, her scent attentive.
I scratch my head with an antenna.
"I'm worried that the lizards are just pinning us down and keeping us occupied while they build up an even larger force. I'm sure you've noticed that no matter how many we seem to kill, the raids continue apace. The termites are doing a better job of preserving their numbers through every engagement and are just probing our defences. I believe a surge will come, and possibly soon. I think they've increased egg production by far more than we've realised and when the new generations are ready they will throw everything at us, not in a massive wave, but in an organised advance that will engage us on as many fronts as possible."
I pause for a moment.
"Which I think will also include the third stratum. There won't be termites, but I think the ka'armodo will engage with allied demons and their own numbers to spread us even more thinly. If we don't have the capacity, the antpower, to cover all of these fronts, we could be in serious trouble."
-x-X-x-
It was almost as if Leeroy had died and entered some sort of paradise. Except, frustratingly, she still clung to her mortal shell, along with the other Immortals. Despite this, she revelled in her current existence. The release she sought, the glorious end she strove to experience, had never felt as close as it did now.
As she strode back and forth before the massed ranks of her followers, her chosen sisters, the massive weight of her armour was a comfort bearing down on her carapace. The Immortals were almost shivering with excitement to the point the joints of their armour rattled. They had fought recently, a glorious battle that had pushed them to their limits. The Colony had pulled them back and forced them to wait until their Phoenix Fire organs had recharged, and now they were ready to be sent out once more.
"Are you ready my sisters?" she demanded of the waiting armoured troops. "Are you prepared for the fire that is to come?"
"YES!" they roared as they slapped their antennae against their armour.
"Will your charge never falter? Will you crush the ranks of the enemy?"
"YES!"
"Will you fight until you collapse? Will you fight until the last breath leaves your body?"
"YES!"
"Then, when you are engulfed in cursed flame, will you rise? Will you do it all over again?"
"YES!"
"WHY?" she roared, her pheromones billowing around her.
"WE SEEK!"
"WHAT YOU SEARCH FOR IS OUT THERE! IN THE MASSED RANKS OF THE TERMITE YOU CAN FIND YOUR REST! GO AND TAKE IT!"
"WE SEEK!"
With that final, suffocating roar the Immortals began to advance. There were almost two hundred of them now, each tier five or six, each armoured with a custom, fully enchanted suit of the finest armour the Colony could provide. Every individual represented multiple tons of pure, righteous ant fury. Their charge began as a walk, the armoured column moving in lock step, the tread of their six legs shaking the ground as they moved as one.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
At the head of the column, the rhythmic drumming of their steps matched the urgent beat of Leeroy's heart. Every time she had sortied over the last weeks, the battle had been desperate and they had been pushed right to the brink before they were pulled back.
So close.
She'd been so close! The glorious, blazing and climactic end that she had yearned for from the moment she'd hatched had been within her reach numerous times. Even now, the scent of desperate battle hung heavy in the air. The acrid tang of formic acid, the bitter waft of ichor and the meaty iron of fresh Biomass washed against her antennae as the battle drew closer. Her eyes burned with passion. As she'd told the others, it was out there. They just had to find it.
Leeroy picked up the pace, no longer a stately march, she accelerated to a quicker gate, her legs beginning to eat up the ground and the column behind rose to match her pace. No longer did their tread create a steady beat; instead the noise had elevated to a constant rumble, more like an avalanche building in the distance than troops on the march.
Soon, they saw the battle lines up ahead. A horde of ravening termites threatened to overwhelm the ant defenders through sheer weight of numbers. A desperate struggle had broken out as the Colony fought to retreat as termite reinforcements poured from a tunnel in the wall.
Another breach. The ka'armodo were cunning and their mastery of magic beyond what the Colony could manage. Using their unknown methods they'd been able to guide their insect slaves through twisted and convoluted paths in the rock, evading detection and penetrating deep into ant territory. The breaches could happen almost anywhere at any time, tunnels crashing open and vomiting thousands of enemy combatants behind the main lines. For this reason the Immortals had been stationed as the rapid response force.
As always, the sight of the hated enemy ignited a primal rage in her gut and Leeroy embraced it. Their elongated mandibles, their strange, alien bodies, with only two segments rather than three, and their beady, near sightless eyes. They were unnatural and did not belong in this world. She firmly believed that, how else could she explain this instinctual hatred?
With a flick of her antenna the entire Immortal column accelerated to full speed. The avalanche was no longer in the distance, now it was right here and the ground trembled under the force of their charge.
Leeroy activated her skills, accelerating beyond what she was normally capable of as her Dash and Charge skills combined to elevate her speed. The tunnel even sloped downhill, perfect conditions.
With the Immortals rushing forward from behind them, the still battling ants scrambled to disengage and get out of the way, unleashing potent blasts of acid and mana to create whatever distance they could before the steel phalanx that was the Immortals reached them.
These were the moments that Leeroy lived for. Her soul was on fire. The ranks of the enemy grew larger and larger in her vision as she lowered her head and prepared to meet them, the ground blurred beneath her.
The moment of impact was like the detonation of an explosion.
An inrush of air.
The deadly silence.
And then the deafening crash. The shockwave swept through her body as her armour crumpled, the termite before her vanishing as the sheer force of her mass sent it flying back into the massed ranks of its allies. What did she care for ranks? What did she care for the new tactics of the enemy? The Immortals did not acknowledge such things.
Their charge continued as their legs pounded the ground, urging every bit of speed possible. They smashed through line after line of the enemy, squashing them beneath their claws, breaking their carapaces upon their armour.
Finally it came to a halt as their momentum slowed, the charge ground to a halt, and still there were termites in front of her.
Leeroy clacked her mandibles with joy.
"There's still plenty left!" she cried. "Rejoice, my sisters!"
And there were, the termites continued to flood from the tunnel before them, the lines reforming as they closed around the Immortal column.
And the ants rejoiced.
-x-X-x-
The grind of an ongoing melee was a very different type of combat than the thrilling and domineering charge of the Immortals. The mass that had propelled them through the ranks of the enemy now bore down on their back. Leeroy welcomed it. It had taken her a long time to grow accustomed to fighting with a second shell, but once she had, once her armour wearing Skill had risen to a sufficient rank, she had come to understand its power.
The jaws of the termite foe, long, curved and sharp beyond belief were designed to find the weak points of an insect carapace, the joints between body segments, and sever them brutally. For the Immortals, such weaknesses did not exist. The joints that connected their head, abdomen and thorax were heavily protected by layers of enchanted and hardened metal that defied even the potent mandibles of their enemies.
They had no powerful magic. They could not blast with fire, or ice, or blow powerful gusts of air that would scatter their enemy. Nor did they have powerful streams of acid that would melt their enemies by the dozen. Their mutations and evolutions had driven them in a different direction and it was on those strengths that they now relied.
Their enlarged heads held dense muscles that powered their long, compounded mandibles and they leveraged those with devastating bites. Their legs were specially evolved and mutated to hold their immense weight and drive bursts of speed that allowed them to initiate small charges when given a breath of space.
Though they couldn't reach full speed, these smaller charges allowed them to throw their weight around, bashing into the termites around them, shattering formations and cracking their shells, creating weak points they could exploit.
Fighting in close quarters with Leeroy and her followers was like a human trying to contain a miniature Vibrant in their hand. Painful.
They bashed and crashed, bit and scrapped, stepping over the fallen and broken bodies of their opponents as yet more emerged from the hole in the tunnel wall to take up the fight.
Even with their thick, reinforced carapaces and sophisticated armour, the best that ant ingenuity could provide, they were not invulnerable. As thousands of termites surrounded their hundreds, it was inevitable that they would begin to take damage.
The first wound Leeroy took was close to her neck and she was glad for it. She'd gone too long in this battle without her HP lowering at all. Had her armour not stopped the pointed end of that barb dead in its tracks, she may have suffered a serious wound, more's the pity.
She battled on, her reserves of energy dwindling as she expended her stamina to bite and snap her way through the melee. As the conflict raged, her sisters and her suffered more and more harm. Vastly outnumbered, there was a limit to what they could do to defend themselves as they sought to inflict as much damage on the enemy as possible.
Not that it mattered.
Those tier six members of the Immortals, inflicted as they were with the terrible curse of not properly reading their evolution options, felt the Phoenix Fire building within them. The more damage they took, the brighter it became until it raged within their bodies, a dense ball of energy just waiting to be released.
Still, they fought on. Dragging the enemy down with them kicking and screaming, buying as much time as they could for reinforcements to arrive so that this offensive could finally be repelled.
Finally, she could stand no more.
A termite lunged forward and Leeroy couldn't react in time. The vicious monster grabbed hold of her leg and threw its weight backwards, causing her to stumble. Before she could reorient herself, three more termites fell on her, biting furiously, their jaws seeking the gaps in her armour that had been torn open over the course of the battle.
Exhausted, wounded, no longer able to support her own weight, she slumped to the ground as the light began to fade from her eyes. It was in these moments that Leeroy felt most at peace, and though she knew it wouldn't last, for a brief moment, she could embrace the illusion that at last she could rest, secure in the belief that her heroic sacrifice had bought time for her siblings, that she had died a worthy death.
Only for the briefest time could she indulge in this fantasy before it was cruelly torn away. That cursed organ, deep within her carapace, pulsed ominously before the energy contained within flooded out. A torrent of bright flame erupted within her and rushed through her veins before it ignited her flesh and seared the termites around her.
Awareness came flooding back. Energy came flooding back. From the brink of her eternal rest to cursed, rejuvenated life in a matter of moments. Strength filled her limbs and Leeroy pushed herself to her feet, her mandibles clacking as she shook off the remains of those unfortunate termites who had clung too closely when they thought her defeated.
All around, the fires of her sisters had begun to ignite as her fellow tier six Immortals took the brunt of the enemy retaliation, not to protect their weaker sisters, but to bring this moment on all the sooner.
When Leeroy surveyed the field, she saw that still thousands of termites remained to fight. Her siblings were hopelessly outnumbered still, and no sign of the Colony's reserve rushing to their rescue could be seen.
Joy and hope bloomed in her.
"NOW IS OUR TIME, SISTERS!" she cried and flung herself back into the battle.
Now each wound would stick. Every dint in her HP was a step closer. Against impossible odds the Immortals flung themselves again and again, grinding down the foe, burning out their enemies using their own flesh as the tinder. Leeroy fought like a creature possessed of madness. No injury could stop her, no massed ranks could suppress her, she charged again and again, crashing through the lines, biting and clawing at everything she could reach.
Her vision began to blur. One of her antennae had been torn off. One of her legs was broken. She fought on. Surely. Surely this time.
"Let not a single termite live! Chase them down and exterminate them!"
She didn't know from where this new scent came, but the following rush of steps announced the arrival of more ants to the scene. Soon she was surrounded by fresh soldiers who threw themselves against the depleted termite force, filled with rage and vigour.
Her heart sank.
She'd been so close.
"Well done, Leeroy," Advant came and patted her on the back. "You can go and rest now."
She didn't reply except to nod wearily as she turned and dragged herself back towards the safety of the newly established ant lines. She knew it would be hopeless to continue fighting, she'd tried it before. She didn't want to be dragged back to the healers again, they hadn't let her go for days.
"Immortals, to me," she called to her sisters and slowly the now patchily armoured behemoths began to regroup, pulling themselves away from the fighting, dejected. Another opportunity lost. Another chance at eternal glory denied to them. For how long? How long could they endure?
Forever, if the Eldest had their way.
Leeroy shoved down a wave of bitterness as she reached out to comfort those around her. A few required help to move, their armour having become so twisted it needed to be removed before they could rise. They set to the task sluggishly, all of their previous enthusiasm killed by the scorned hopes.
"Leeroy," came a call, and the mighty soldier turned at the strange note she detected in the scent of her sister. "Come here."
She turned to see one of her comrades standing over another Immortal, one leg extended and placed on the other's carapace. The steel of the fallen one's armour was so twisted, so tortured, there was no possible way she could stand, she would need help. Leeroy sighed and began to drag herself over. She would assist her sister, of course she would. She may need to bite through the metal and strapping in order to free her, then she could be healed and they would return together.
Except, the ant who had called her remained strangely still. The fallen one still hadn't moved.
A strange emotion bubbled up in Leeroy at that moment. A feeling she could not identify. A hope she would not name.
Her limping stride grew longer as she forced her broken leg to move.
"What is it?" she demanded, not taking her eyes off her fallen sibling.
"I… I think she…" the ant could not go on. She trembled.
Leeroy reached out with her remaining antenna and touched it to the carapace of her fallen sister.
"She's gone," she said.
Her words rolled through the Immortals like a wave. One by one they gathered in silence until every member of their order stood in a circle around this one, still form, lying where she fell on the tunnel floor. They dipped their heads in respect.
Overcome with emotion, it was all Leeroy could do to force herself to speak.
"Her search is over. This one has found her rest. She has found her glory."
She choked.
"Does anyone know her name?" she asked.
"Cardigant," someone replied.
Leeroy nodded slowly. She turned her head to better see the eyes of her sisters. They burned. They burned so brightly she almost couldn't bear to look. She felt it too.
It was possible.
IT WAS POSSIBLE!
"RAISE HER UP MY SISTERS! RAISE HER HIGH AND WE WILL BRING HER HOME TO HER FINAL REST! HER ARMOUR SHALL BE OUR TREASURE AND WE SHALL NEVER FORGET THE FINAL CHARGE OF CARDIGANT! SHE SEEKS NO MORE!"
"REST IN GLORY, SISTER!" they thundered back at her.
The other ants watched, bewildered, as a joyful and triumphant column of Immortals made its way back through the tunnels, bearing the body of the first and only member to find what she had been looking for.
When next Leeroy and the Immortals emerged to battle, they did so with a fervour and fanaticism that none had ever seen before. Their hope had been renewed. Once again, the Immortals were reborn.
-x-X-x-
Who can say, truly, how many termites were defeated, down in the dark? Amongst the roots of the world tree we hunted and were hunted in turn. The fighting was vicious, brutal in the extreme.
In some ways it was a good thing that our non-monster allies were unable to join us, despite the enormous help their auras would have been. Without them we were able to engage with the enemy on the same ground. Fight fire with fire.
We fought on the walls and ceilings. We fought in complete darkness within cramped tunnels. We fought within the verdant growth of the tree. We fought on our own terms. Enormous numbers on both sides, an endless conflict that would never end until one side could no longer sustain the fight.
It was war exactly the way we wanted it.
I loved it.
· From the journals of Advant.
A war of attrition against the Colony was not the wisest of strategies, Mendant reflected. The field hospital around her teemed with activity as the wounded were rushed in on her left. The fighting must be fierce today considering the numbers that they were seeing.
Considering this was only one of the medical posts the healers had established, there must have been over a thousand ants in need of healing coming into the facilities run by her sisters.
Considering how durable and easy to heal the monsters were, only particularly serious injuries made their way to places like this, ones that couldn't be instantly cured with an application of healing magic, or fixed over a period of hours after consuming Biomass.
One thing they weren't short on right now was Biomass.
Like a conductor directing an orchestra, Mendant was the centre of operations as her healers flowed around her. She directed resources to where they were needed and when, ensuring that every ant received the care they needed in a timely fashion.
Most would be fine after a few days, whereas others might need a week to return to full health. The ants, especially the soldiers, were incredibly durable, able to recover even after losing half of their body, if they were tended to on time.
As she continued to direct traffic, she was distracted by a strange sensation that overcame her. She turned to see the other healers standing unusually still. A moment before she could reprimand them, she realised the patients were acting in a similar fashion.
What was happening?
A second before it happened she shifted to watch the entrance. There was a beat, then the bizarre sight of the Eldest being carried… or floating… into the hospital met her eyes.
Mendant stared in shock as the enormous form of the Eldest appeared to drift in. Were they being carried? She thought she saw ants underneath, bearing the weight of that frame, but she couldn't seem to focus on what her eyes were telling her, as if her brain refused to acknowledge it.
She puzzled over it for a moment longer before she shook off the confusion and rushed to meet the Eldest.
"What happened?" she demanded, her pheromones calm.
The healers were always calm, but her eyes nearly boggled when they saw the extent of the injuries that had been inflicted on the strongest ant in the Colony.
"Oh, hey Mendant! Good to see you. No problem, just a little explosion issue."
A what?
"How does one have a 'little' explosion issue?"
The Eldest, still somehow hovering in mid-air waved their antennae expansively.
"I managed to track down a ka'armodo, and they weren't too happy to see me, so to speak. I mean, did I try to bite them? Maybe. But I don't think that means they needed to detonate me, especially that many times."
The burns were one thing, huge chunks of missing carapace and the blackened flesh on the inside, but the cuts, as if sections of the Eldest's body had been removed with incredible precision, were something else entirely.
"What caused this?" she wondered as she prodded the wounds with her antennae.
"Some sort of laser thing. Absolute rubbish. Anyway, spot of healing, I'll be fine. Hit me up Mendant and I'll be on my way."
She levelled the Eldest with an even stare.
"You'll be here for at least a day. I'm assuming your healing gland is empty?"
"I think it needs to regrow…"
"Right. Well. I'll see what I can do. Is there any chance you can levitate over to a table?"
"Levitate? Oh. Sure thing, they'll figure it out."
And indeed 'they' did.
Once that giant form was placed down, she prepared to get to work. As she began to spin up her healing magic, she prodded a nearby healer with an antenna.
"Get back to work, all of you."
Her words shook the room out of its stupor and the healers got back to their tasks as the patients seemed to wake up and remember that they were significantly injured.
Mendant could only sigh and turn her attentions back to the Eldest, who continued to insist that they didn't need to be here, certainly not for a day, but she would brook no argument.
"Sit still and let me heal you," she demanded as she continued to work.
Eventually a series of dark tentacles sprouted and pinned the Eldest down, allowing Mendant to work. They even helped rotate the Eldest when she needed to shift her attention to a different wound. Literally wrapped up, the most esteemed member of the Colony could do little but suffer in silence, attempting to preserve what dignity they could.
-x-X-x-
There weren't too many times in his centuries of life that Rassan'tep had truly feared for his life. He'd been outnumbered and surrounded during a wave defence in the fourth in just his fifth decade, barely out of the nest. Only the intervention of an Old One had saved him from the jaws of a ravening horde of Emerald Lizards. As he had grown, increased his level, power and prestige, he had not found himself in that situation again.
Until today.
The Ka'armodo found a nice shady spot and crawled in before settling down to try and recover some equilibrium. Not far away, others tended to the termite brood, accelerating their growth and directing them to battle each other to improve their skills. The Old One felt nothing but contempt for the efforts of his comrades in their continued attempts to attack the Mother Tree, and by extension the ants. Even so, he would continue to use them for his own purpose.
[Master!] His faithful chief retainer, the Setsulah Ammon'sil, rushed to his side, placing both hands on the great lizard's side in an unusual public display of concern. [I felt your agitation through the bond. Is all well?]
Under the calming influence of his servant and the cool of the shade, the powerful mage began to feel his blood slow in his veins as he gathered himself.
[It goes to show what happens when I leave without my faithful servants by my side,] Rassan admitted, ruefully.
[I warned you not to go.]
[Peace, Ammon'sil. I know. I judged it to be worth the risk, and I am still not convinced that it wasn't.]
His chief servant subsided and bottled his objections, allowing his master to think and calm himself as he kept his hands pressed to the great lizard's side. He monitored the breath and thoughts of Rassan'tep through the bond as he felt that ancient mind turn.
[I was able to find our specimen,] Rassan'tep finally conferred. [Though I saw it much closer than I would have liked.]
[You were attacked?] Rage blossomed in the heart of the servant at the thought of such a lowly monster threatening his master, but Rassan'tep only chuckled across their bond.
[I was, indeed. Such a fury of a monster. I don't know how it found me, but it came after me so quickly I didn't have the time to retreat before it was upon me.]
The scene was far more terrifying than he communicated, and he could feel the confusion in his Setsulah, but he made no effort to dispel it. Better that he remain in ignorance than try to grasp the desperate madness that monster possessed.
Rassan'tep had taken his turn to lead a brigade of termites toward the tree, controlling the horde through the methods the Ka'armodo had built into their servants. Of course, he couldn't possibly refuse this opportunity to study the budding ancient in action and had purposefully attempted to engage it in combat.
It had taken several days of careful manoeuvring, but he had finally encountered the target toward the centre of the lines. It had been trivial to arrange an engagement where he would be in position to both watch the conflict unfold and make a quick escape, yet things hadn't exactly turned out that way.
The specimen was everything he had hoped to see. Domineering, decisive, radiating strength and power. The colossal ant had fallen upon his termite horde like a natural disaster, the pets kept by its side unable to keep up with the sheer fury on display. Magic of many elements, including that strange, unknown power, was on display, along with potent physical abilities that shredded through the termite force far quicker than anticipated.
That was when things had taken a turn.
He'd been so engaged with watching the monster annihilate his troops that he had missed the window to retreat. When he tried to correct this mistake and withdraw, he'd already been noticed by the ant he'd been trying to study. Even so, he should have made it out; the distance between them was large enough, but necessity was the mother of invention, after all. The ant had leapt towards him, its body flying into the air as it burned its skills to accelerate as fast as possible. That still wouldn't have been enough, but a powerful explosion had erupted beneath the creature, flinging its body towards him even as it suffered severe damage.
It had commanded its pet to create the explosion in order to propel itself at him.
The memory of that gnashing, chomping nightmare of chitin and flesh that had set upon him then was enough to accelerate the heart of Rassan'tep once more. Truly a powerful monster. Any thought he'd had of preserving the monster, this potential ancient, had flown out of his mind after a minute of combat. It had taken every ounce of mana that he could produce to keep the creature off him, and only after inflicting wounds that should have killed it five times over was he able to disengage and escape.
If his servants had been there, connected through the bond, their collective strength would have allowed him to withdraw far more easily, but even so, he couldn't help but suspect the creature would have found a way to make him pay by destroying one of his servants. Truly, a fearsome and indomitable monster.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that he would need to make contact with whoever had created or was guiding this monster so that they might collaborate in their efforts. His plan to accelerate the growth of the creature through difficult combat appeared to be working, but it was always good to confer with one's peers on the correct course of action.
Also, he had strongly begun to suspect that the termites, and his fellow Ka'armodo, were significantly underestimating what would come their way when the ants began to turn on the offensive. Even after the display of strength at the termite nest, they still didn't believe the ants were worthy foes.
And now that they had redoubled their efforts in producing a termite war machine, they failed to realise they were not grinding down the ant resistance, but feeding it, strengthening it. Despite inflicting casualties, the ants who remained were growing in strength, and none faster than the specimen. There was trouble on the horizon.
-x-X-x-
[I thank you for your cooperation.]
[To you as well. I hope that your research is of some use to the Colony.]
[I wish the same. If you wish to view our published work, you can find it in the pheromone library. There are copies in every major nest.]
[Wonderful. I will read with interest.]
Torrina placed her pen away and shut the book in front of her as the interviewee, a tier six mage, amongst the first, turned and walked out of the room. With more ants reaching the sixth tier, it became more important than ever before to correlate their evolutionary options and choices. Granin in particular had been obsessed with it, almost as obsessed as the Colony itself, which was why the triad had been busy interviewing and documenting every tier six ant they could get to talk to them.
Which was all of them that they could reach. Once they realised the fruits of their research would be delivered to the Colony, they were only too happy to help.
If only her own colleagues had been as forthcoming with information, they would have been able to achieve so much more. The petty rivalries of the shaper circle seemed even more absurd to her now than they had when she was a student. Perhaps the day would come when social discord and competition would arise amongst the ants, forcing the siblings to struggle against each other, but as of yet, that day had not dawned.
A level of cooperation that bordered on the fanatical, that was the defining trait of the Colony in her eyes. In many ways, Anthony himself exemplified the trait. There was nothing he would not give of himself for his new family, even if he would never say as much.
She stood from behind the desk she had been provided, ensuring she didn't scrape the immaculately woven rug under the carved chair. Once again, only the best had been provided for her use, and she was careful not to damage any of it. Furniture such as this would have cost her a small fortune amongst the golgari.
As she stepped out of the "office", she found Corun emerging from his own room next door. The young shaper gave her a broad smile, the stones of his true skin grinding together as he did so.
"Another day done. Got everything you need?"
Torrina nodded.
"I don't have any more mages or core shapers to interview, if that's what you mean. I'm not sure if that will satisfy Granin though."
Corun pulled a face and laughed.
"I doubt it. I'm done with the soldiers, scouts and generals that are within reach as well. For the time being, we won't have any choice but to move on to something else. Hopefully, moving down to the fourth to see what Anthony is up to."
The two fell in alongside each other, the easy manner gained through years of association and friendship between them evident in their relaxed demeanour.
"I don't think he's going to need us for a while yet," she said. "He won't be close to evolving this early, he's only been tier six for what? A couple of months at the most. You can't expect the same sort of speed out of him that he had before."
"He's hunting big game down there," Corun replied. "From what I've heard, he's been munching on literally thousands of tier four and fives. Even if they're weak, that's still going to be a lot of experience. He might want to get some advice sooner than you think. The next evolution is going to be a big one."
"Damn right it is."
The two jumped and turned to find Granin, the granite-covered senior shaper looming behind them like a boulder. How he managed to move so quietly covered in such a crude stone, Torrina would never know.
"Hey there, boss," Corun greeted their elder and leader of the triad, "I'm guessing this means that you're done for the day as well."
Granin grunted.
"Unfortunately. Most of the tier sixes have been sent down to the fourth, apparently. The rest are on the front lines of the expansion war. We just can't find enough to interview to complete the evolution tree."
She could tell how upset he was at that prospect. In all the time she'd known him, she didn't think she'd seen the old man so enthused with his work, as she imagined he must have been in his younger days. He was obsessed and determined to burn the candle at both ends if it meant furthering his knowledge of this new monster type he had thrown his lot in with.
"Have you determined anything yet?" she asked him.
He flicked a glance at her.
"Not here," he said. "Let's get back to the rooms."
Corun and Torrina shared a look at his caution, but they were conditioned to follow the triad leader and so they did not question him, but instead followed as he led the way.
They followed the corridor around the outside of the hill towards the area where their rooms were located. Candelabras of gleaming metal held small cores that burned with beautiful, dim light, illuminating the intricate carvings, woven rug and tasteful embellishments that lined their path. But even such luxuries didn't compare to the view that she glimpsed through the occasional window as they passed.
Through a full metre of reinforced stone, she could see the vast open space of ash and smoke that was the skyline of the third stratum. The ominous red light bleeding from the outside into the corridor, infusing it with a macabre glow. Despite the opulence, it was impossible to forget where they were, or how high up. She'd been shocked at how quickly the builders had put together this truly titanic nest, the capital of the Colony in this stratum, for want of a better word.
From the floor of the stratum to almost reaching the bottom of the plate on which the demon city of Roklu sat, the great nest was kilometres high. The internals were still being worked on, the vast majority of the nest's volume not being utilised, but for now a segment close to the top had been allocated for the allies of the Colony to use. Barracks, training rooms and medical facilities for the troops, along with a separate area for Granin, Corun and her to conduct their research.
The engineers had been embarrassed when she'd asked them why they'd chosen to place their rooms and corridors as the external walls of the nest out of curiosity. They'd timidly told her of their thoughts on a new technique, muttered something about crumple zones and then assured her they'd done everything they could to ensure they were as safe as possible. She'd shrugged and told them she thought they would want the view for themselves but the ants had looked at her as if she were mad.
What care did they have for a grand vista? None at all. They wanted the dark and security of their cramped chambers and tunnels.
After walking down several flights of stairs they arrived at their private rooms, greeting the few humans and golgari they saw along the way before filing into Granin's chamber, the large shaper closing the door behind them.
"Why the secrecy?" she asked him, confused.
He flicked her a glance before he walked to his plush couch and took a seat with a sigh.
It had taken the ants awhile to grow used to the idea of furniture specifically for golgari; their true skins didn't allow for the same comforts as a human might welcome. Her people didn't like soft or fluffy things, and needed materials that were durable enough not to scrape or dent when exposed to the hard minerals that coated their bodies.
After some time, the ants had developed a soft, springy material that was firm enough not to be damaged by them, strong enough to hold their weight, and with enough give to provide comfort. It was quite a feat and Torrina wasn't sure she could live without the stuff anymore.
She and Corun sat as Granin leaned forward to discuss his thoughts.
"I have a few matters of concern. The first of which relates directly to Anthony himself."
He considered his words for a moment before he went on.
"I'm sure you're seeing the same thing that I'm seeing with the tier six ants, but tell me what you think is unusual about them. I want to see if you've picked up on it."
The two younger shapers glanced at each other before Corun spoke.
"They're strong. Very good evolution options, even at the basic level. Good stats and more than acceptable bonuses almost across the line. I've only encountered a few dud choices, which is rare."
"I concur," Torrina admitted. "No matter the ant, their skill levels or evolutionary energy, the choices provided by the System have generally been good."
"Exactly," Granin nodded, pleased. "And I think you are smart enough to make a few deductions as to why."
"Ants aren't supposed to make it this far up the tiers," Torrina said.
"Right. A tier six ant should be as rare as a golgari with diamond skin, basically non-existent, yet now there are hundreds. The Colony has made something common that the System considers rare, and thus they are benefiting from these powerful evolutions."
"This could still only be considered compensation for their weak starting position, don't you think?" Corun argued. "The Law of Evolutionary Propulsion applies particularly well to ants since they have such a poor initial state."
"Indeed, that is also the case," Granin agreed, "which is having a compounding effect. We have a monster type achieving heights that the Dungeon considers rare, and thus rewards, as well as them having weak starting positions, which accelerates the quality of their evolutions. Across every caste, their options have been good. It's almost unheard of."
An excited glimmer had sparked in the old man's eye as leaned forward.
"So you're particularly excited for what Anthony might get at tier seven, is that it?" Torrina asked.
"In part. Considering he's maxed his core at each step, and in fact gone a little beyond where he should have, his core should reach the bottom of Mythic grade during his next evolution."
Although they knew this already, the two nodded solemnly as they considered this. Going from a Rare core to a Mythic was a big deal for a monster. It meant they were on the road to being an Ancient. As far as she knew, there were only two classes of monster higher than Mythic, one of which being Ancient. Although researchers couldn't be sure exactly what grade of core those god-like beings possessed; nobody had ever seen one of their cores after all.
Mythic grade demons were exceptionally rare, since they almost never evolved with maxed cores, but on the fourth, they became more common. The tier eight Mythic monsters were the true powers of that stratum.
"His next one is going to be big, and we should prepare ourselves for what's coming," Granin stated.
She nodded.
"What else were you worried about?"
The triad leader grimaced.
"I got an annoying message delivered today," he grumbled. "I hate dealing with those damn Red Truth idiots."
-x-X-x-
Arranging a meeting between two cult members wasn't easy, especially given the current conditions between the Colony and the Ka'armodo. Granin grumbled at a constant rate as he and his fellow triad members trekked across the dangerous terrain of the third stratum. It was a testament to how wild the land was in this layer of the Dungeon that even the Colony, with its enormous numbers, intelligent approach, and absurd dedication, hadn't been able to construct countermeasures to ward off the never ending spawns. The best they could do was prune and manage the higher tier demons that still roamed the wastes between cities.
The Demon Raising program that the ants had launched was another initiative that Granin had followed closely. Raising demons to be strong and efficient in their builds to use as pets was hardly anything new, Invidia had been a perfect example of the practice, though some disregarded them due to their odd habits. Mass producing high quality demons on the scale the Colony was? He was almost certain it had never been done. After all, why would anyone bother? Nobody needed that many pets, and wild demons were liable to do whatever their obsession demanded of them. They were far from reliable allies.
Only the Colony had been able to harness the demons so effectively, probably because they allowed the third stratum natives to be themselves for the most part, whilst still surrounding them with an overwhelming structure of authority. If he had the time, he'd love to research that work more deeply. The demons were another group of monsters that needed more research. Although, come to think of it, the Red Truth had probably done plenty.
And not shared it.
"Did we really need to come all the way out here?" Corun asked.
Granin turned to the young shaper.
"Do you think we can wander over to a city controlled by the lizards and have a friendly chat right now? There's significant risk for the other party too. Think about it for a moment."
"I can't imagine how it feels for someone with soft skin to walk around out here," Torrina observed.
With the constant tongues of flame, ash and smoke that filled the air in the third, it was certainly an inhospitable place. Protected by the hard minerals that coated them, the three golgari didn't have to worry too much about the environment, even if it was uncomfortably warm.
"Let the humans worry about that. The ants, Ka'armodo and us have other things to worry about. In fact, the lizards absolutely love this stratum. The heat makes them all fuzzy inside."
[Being cold blooded has that effect on a being.]
The mind connection snapped into place with such ease that Granin almost didn't notice it until the bridge was formed. He rolled his eyes. They always had to show off.
[Are you planning on showing yourself or are we doing this full clandestine?] Granin drawled.
[Remaining hidden will be the wiser path in our current circumstances. I'm sure you understand.]
[That's fine, but I want to include the rest of my triad in the conversation. You're sharing this with your retainers, are you not?]
[… that is acceptable.]
With that, Granin wove mana of his own to extend the existing bridge to Corun and Torrina, allowing them to be part of the conversation.
[Rassan'tep, these are the members of my triad, Corun and Torrina. To you two, make sure you are properly respectful to Rassan'tep, he's old.]
[Older than you?] Corun asked.
[Shut up.]
A tiny hint of amusement leaked over the connection, which, culturally speaking, was equivalent to a hearty belly laugh. If letting Corun make fun of him helped to loosen the Ka'armodo's tongue, then he would tolerate it, for the moment. When they got back to safety there would be hell to pay.
[Well, you went to a lot of trouble to call me out here. Frankly, I'm not even sure how you did it.]
[Unlike the Worm Cult, we followers of the Red Truth have many means. It wasn't overly difficult to locate and pass a message to you.]
[Come on Rassan'tep. I don't need the pointless 'my cult is better than your cult' rubbish. Out with it. What did you want to say?]
There was a pause.
[And Yarrum would totally kick Arconidem's arse,] he couldn't help adding.
Indignation railed against his mind.
[That puffed up worm wouldn't be a match for the Demon God! You can't possibly expect me to let that pass!]
[Oh come on. I don't care how big a larval demon gets, there is no way it can beat the worm that wrapped around the world.]
[Comparing Arconidem to an infant demon? Preposterous!]
Granin laughed out loud. It was always like this between the various cults founded, according to legend, by each of the ancients. The followers always bickered about nonsense rather than cooperate as they should, given that they shared essentially the same mission. Corun and Torrina were casting him odd looks as they listened to the exchange. They didn't have much experience when it came to interacting with other cults; insulting their patron was a time honoured tradition.
Find the twentieth Ancient and usher in the new world.
[Alright. I've had my fun. What did you want to say? I presume it has something to do with Anthony? What's he been up to?]
[He's not injured, is he?] Torrina asked, a little nervously.
[He is in fact, injured, though I expect he will be fully healed by now.]
[What happened?] Corun butted in.
[I did,] Rassan'tep replied, a little smug.
Granin's hands slowly clenched into fists.
[What are you saying?] he growled.
Again, that hint of amusement over the link.
[I got a little too close and was forced to defend myself from him. He nearly ate me.]
Such an admission from a proud Ka'armodo was not an easy thing to obtain. They were almost as stubborn and puffed up with hubris as the golgari themselves.
Granin relaxed.
[I'm a little surprised. He must be quite angry with your people to do such a thing.]
[There are fools amongst every race. This venture was a horrific idea from the beginning and the execution has only gotten worse.]
[It's going to cost your people a lot in the end,] Granin observed.
[It will not matter. We have been gathering power for thousands of years. We are ready.]
[Everyone has been gathering power. I think this might turn worse than you expect, by the end. At any rate, Anthony?]
There was a lapse in the conversation and Granin could feel the prodigious mind of the great lizard turning.
[Are you aware of what it is that you've made?] he asked eventually.
Granin raised a stony brow.
[Made? Let me be clear, I did not make Anthony what he is. He did that himself. I saw his potential and decided that I should put myself in a position to advise.]
[So to be clear, he isn't a planned attempt by the Worm Cult to create an Ancient?]
[He is not.]
[That helps explain how powerful he is.]
[That's cheap.]
[I wanted to meet you,] Rassan'tep continued, [because I am beginning to believe that he might actually have a chance.]
There was some residual shock over the connection and Granin assumed it came from the Set'sulah. They hadn't been aware of their master's thoughts.
[I've thought that for a while now,] Granin agreed, [and believe me, I think that after he evolves again, we won't be the only ones.]
The great lizard's thoughts sharpened, his curiosity surging through the connection.
[You have some information?]
[I've been conducting some research with my triad. I don't think anyone expects what's going to happen next. Least of all your termite breeding friends.]
-x-X-x-
This period of history became known as the Great Expansion, the first of several large spans of aggressive land claims made by the Colony. What differentiated these from the manner of conquest utilised by the sapient races of Pangera was our unusual 'top down' approach. When the Colony claimed an area in the third stratum, they also seized the land above it in the second, and the first, and on the surface.
When we descended to another layer in force, we strived to ensure that the resources and cities beneath what we had already taken became ours as well. Although it was generally considered a normal practice to try and achieve this vertical structure, none were as fanatical about it as the Colony. Indeed, it was commonplace to possess significant holdings in the fourth stratum, a place of incredible value to any with the means to exploit it, and not bother to invest in the extremely difficult to manage third stratum, and unimportant second and first strata.
As we remained creatures of low mana requirements, the nests and academies spread far and wide across the upper levels of the Dungeon, accompanied by matching outreach from the human population on the surface. During this first wave of outreach, the city of Rylleh established its exploratory foundation that initiated construction of the new city that became Sothoth.
· From the records of Historiant.
I really need a holiday. As nice as it's been to engage in endless combat against the termites, and believe me, it has been satisfying on a primal level to rip into those damn abominations, I feel like I need a break.
With the lizards stepping in and taking control of the offensive directly, the entire battlefield has turned into a giant cat and mouse game. Vast swarms of termites sweep forward, tear up our tunnels, try to hunt down our patrols, lay false scent trails and generally be a nuisance before they retreat. Or they pretend to retreat but instead lay a trap and when we run in to try and chase them out, termites pour out of the walls and drop on top of us.
Naturally this means the Colony has returned fire, setting traps of their own, false tunnels, chambers filled with concentrated acid, misleading trails, surprise forays into disputed territory, raids on termite tunnels as they ferry reinforcements to the front lines.
Despite the long conflict, we still haven't managed to get hold of a single lizard. They're crafty creatures, deceit dripping from every cursed scale. The only ant who got close was me, and I had to let Invidia half blow me up to get the rocket jump I needed to close the gap.
Every other time they've slipped away without even being seen, no matter how hard we try to intercept them.
For my part I've just been running at the termites along with Tiny, Invidia and Crinis, sometimes with Sarah, causing as much mayhem as possible before retreating back to safe ground. Once we regroup, we try to find another likely location and run out to do it all again.
Despite the ongoing conflict, the reality of the situation cannot help but sink in. The number of termites swarming around the territory of the mother tree continues to increase. Things are coming to a head.
Which is why I've had to pull all the way back to the Bruan'chii settlement to try and get an audience with the tree herself. As a fellow reincarnation, I have a much better chance of conversing with the insane plant than my own kin.
I stare up at the massive Grove Keeper as he stands over me. In terms of overall mass, I'm quite a bit larger than the tree man, but ants tend to be much longer than they are tall, I'm quite a midget for a tier six monster in that respect. I barely come up to Tiny's waist when he stands up straight.
[Is she willing to talk or not?] I ask.
[Hmmmm. I will ask, though I am not sure what she will say. Mother's mood has been… difficult of late.]
Seriously? That weed? She's always been difficult! As far as I've been told, she's been difficult from the moment she reincarnated on Pangera…
Feeling a little indignant, I wait while the many flowers, bushes and roots that adorn the walls in the chamber rustle amongst themselves as the Grove Keeper tilts his head, listening to the words of his creator.
[She will speak,] he tells me eventually.
[Nice. So I have to ask, is she going to be able to help against the termite threat any time soon? We've been doing pretty darn well holding off in the invasion so far on our own, but a little assistance now and then wouldn't go astray…]
[She has been helping. When the incursions reach her roots, hasn't she been fighting?] the Keeper replies without consulting his mother.
[She has been doing the bare minimum. When there is a direct threat to her, she fights, but my family are fighting, and dying, without any aid from her at all in the tunnels abroad. Don't deflect my words, I want to hear from the shrub-in-chief. Ask her.]
What follows is an extended period of rustling as the two silently argue back and forth. I can't even detect a mental connection between them.
[She has been gathering her strength. She expended a great deal of energy in her fight against the termites. Without our aid, there was little she could do to prevent them from destroying and pillaging their way towards her roots. It will be years before she is able to return to her previous strength.]
[So that means she doesn't have to contribute to preserving her own life? That's just nonsense! Without us here, fighting her battles, where would she be? Where would you be? We said we would come and lend aid, and we have. We've risked far more in the defence of your mother than she ever risked in protecting the Colony. If she wants to continue to enjoy our help, then she needs to step up.]
The anger in my voice is rising the longer I go on. My siblings continue to fight and die in a war that really is none of their business. If the Mother Tree wanted us to repay a favour, then I consider it repaid a hundred times over by now. She wants to sit back and lick her wounds while we defend her? No chance.
There is another long silence as the Grove Keeper and the Mother Tree argue. I can't know what they are saying, but if I was to guess, the Grove Keeper doesn't want her to get involved, and she is actually willing to help. The Keeper's attitude grows more stiff as their debate continues until finally he turns to me.
[She will help,] he says gruffly before he turns to stomp away.
-x-X-x-
Burke skulked with all her Skills working to the fullest, her stealth enhancing mutations humming as she slipped from shadow to shadow, creating patches of darkness where none existed and blending into the rock behind her as her carapace shifted and moulded itself to match the surface she stood on. She was on high alert, every one of her senses strained for the slightest hint of stimuli.
When a pebble shifted and rolled down the tunnel wall, tumbling over the rocks on its way to rest on the uneven floor, the fine hairs of her antennae vibrated furiously. Despite being drawn to such a height of tension, she didn't move, but held her position still on the ceiling. She was far from the territory of the Colony, on a deep scouting mission, she could not afford to make any mistakes.
Clinging to the darkness felt unpleasantly spiderish, an insect she despised with all her ant heart, as did being alone. She felt no trails that were not her own in this far away place, unnatural to say the least. Yet even so, she enjoyed these moments, the times when everything rested on her own carapace and nothing else.
Confident that there were no demons in the vicinity, she crept forward a few metres before she drew still, wrapping her stealth around herself once again. She was so close to the goal now, she couldn't afford to be impatient.
She briefly considered digging herself another resting chamber, a hidden room that she could fall back to and enclose to avoid danger, but decided against it. One look at the walls gave her all the information she needed as to why.
Rivulets of lava streamed all around her, so hot they seared the air itself. Delicate blue flames danced across the surface as the boiling rock flowed ceaselessly from reservoirs of unspeakably dense mana above. She was far too deep now to risk digging anything at all. It was hard enough to find sections of stone solid enough to grasp onto; if she were to try and dig, the odds of everything collapsing on her head was far too high.
What was that? A trembling in the air. Eddies of wind that brushed against the hyper-sensitive hairs on her front legs.
She tensed, locking her muscles in position. She could retreat or attack in a flash, depending on what she saw, but hopefully it wouldn't be necessary. She could see her target now. Having to fight at this point would be such a pain.
From the darkness opposite emerged a lithe, bladed shape. A demon, high tier. Illuminated by the lava streams, it certainly appeared dangerous, the flames glinting off the absurdly sharp blades that emerged from that dusk dark skin that coated each of the monsters native to this stratum. Hesitant at first, the demon sniffed heavily, sucking in the heat and ash as it tasted the air.
Burke didn't flinch. Her scent was disguised, just like the rest of her. The demon was only twenty metres away, but it was likely too far for a single dash to reach. Patience was her ally.
Finding nothing amiss, the demon advanced toward the hole in the rock and vanished quickly out of sight. Burke didn't move. Only after ten minutes had passed did she shift her leg, then froze again as she watched for any response. Finally confident that nothing remained in the area she advanced to the target and began to poke her antennae through a millimetre at a time.
She still sensed nothing and now dared to poke her head in.
What met her gaze was much what she expected. No matter how deep she went, the third stratum remained much the same, the only difference being that what made this layer unique was more evident the further down one travelled. Right now she stood over an entrance into the fourth 'layer' that made up the third stratum. The pillar was close, and far below, obscured by burning air and thick clouds of ash that made it almost impossible to see, lay a massive demon city. At least a dozen plates, each larger than what the Colony had conquered at Roklu.
That would take a bit of work to control. And that was putting it mildly.
Thankfully it wasn't her job to worry about that. All the planning could be comfortably punted to the generals and carvers. She was of one mind with the Eldest when it came to thinking too much. Leave it to those better suited. She would instead focus on the things she could do exceptionally well.
Stealthy as ever, she emerged through the gap and clung to the ceiling above the sheer drop of a dozen kilometres that spread out beneath her. Once she'd achieved a solid grip she positioned herself carefully and focused her gaze on the distant city, giving some time for her lenses to focus.
Gradually things came into better focus, though it was immensely difficult to see much through the smoke. It was so hot she could swear that the air was on fire. Ants certainly enjoyed the heat more than the cold, but there were limits for everything.
Wait a second… what was she seeing?
That smoke, was it purely a product of the stratum? Or was the city… on fire?
The longer she stared the more confident she became, something was happening down there. An attack? A planned demon war? She didn't know who controlled the city below, but surely they wouldn't allow an inter-city conflict to extend to this point?
That was when she saw it.
A demon. Enormous. Like a drawn blade of blood and fire. The moment she saw that towering form its aura washed against her senses, crushing her will and battering her with thoughts of battle and war. Her mandibles strained against the desire to gnash and chomp as she fought for control of herself. Only after a long battle did she manage to regain mastery of her own mind.
What was that?
The city was burning. Whatever that giant demon happened to be, it was clearly attacking the city. With an aura that powerful, it had to be at least tier seven, and it was directly below the territory the Colony sought to claim… this wasn't good.
She watched carefully as the fight progressed, her gaze frustrated by the frequent gusts that broke her line of sight, but the glimpses she gained were more than enough to chill her heart.
Then she saw the other one.
In a flash, Burke was gone, back up the hole she had emerged from and rushing back to her nearest hiding spot.
One was bad enough, but two? Just what the Colony needed. Another enemy too powerful to deal with.
-x-X-x-
"They found WHAT?"
Pulled aside by Sloan during a break in the fighting, she drops some heavy ordnance on me.
"Tier eight demons," she repeats grimly, "fighting in the deepest layers of the third stratum, right beneath the land claimed by the Colony."
Pants. This is the last thing we need right now. We've got these termites to deal with, along with the ka'armodo pulling the strings as well as acting aggressive along our border in the third. There might be hundreds of thousands of us by now, but even we can be stretched too thin!
"I'll have to go back up there," I declare, firm in my conviction. "Nobody else in the Colony is equipped to fight them, not without suffering extreme casualties, so I'll do it."
Sloan slaps herself with an antenna as if frustrated by my reply.
"What?" I ask defensively.
"Eldest. You might be the strongest member of the Colony, but you cannot do everything yourself. Grokus was only tier seven and he came close to killing you. If you were to go head to head with a tier eight, what do you think the outcome would be? Honestly?"
Well, if I think about it that way.
"I would be flattened like a pancake in a machine specifically designed for the purpose of crushing pancakes to be a single atom thick… would be my guess."
"I don't understand all of that, but I think my point got across. Even if these demons had abysmal quality evolutions, they would still be far above you, and there are two of them. Any thought you have of defeating them yourself needs to be cast aside."
It feels kind of sad to be pushed aside like this in a moment of crisis, but she certainly has a good point. I can't very well yell at the Immortals for trying to throw their lives away and then replicate that behaviour against even worse odds.
"All right then, so what is the plan then? I presume we aren't just hoping they won't come for us."
Now she looks insulted.
"Of course not. We are in the process of putting together a strike team of tier seven demons that we can call on in the event these powerful enemies find us. Observation and deep scouting operations have been increased dramatically and teams of generals have been put in place to game out possible scenarios. We are doing all that we can."
I have a question.
"Generals aren't really the smartest ants. Are we sure you should be the group in charge of the theory crafting?"
They are the most intelligent of the soldier caste, obviously, but that doesn't mean a whole lot. Not that Sloan appears to appreciate me pointing that out.
"Instead of insulting my intelligence -"
"That's not what I meant!"
"- what I wanted to ask, Eldest, was what level you are currently?"
My level? I honestly haven't looked in a while, which is a bad habit I've been falling into. I've probably got skills that need to be upgraded and a fair chunk of Biomass to spend after all the fighting we've been doing down here. I take a quick look at my status and almost jump in surprise.
"I'm at eighty one," I say, more than a little shocked.
That's past the halfway point! Tier seven is approaching fast!
"Good. If you continue at your current pace then you may be able to reach the next tier before anything happens with these demons. Jumping two tiers is too much even for you, Eldest, but one might be possible."
Considering the boost to evolutionary energy doubles each evolution, I'm not sure how a tier seven would cope against an eight, hopefully it's not that bad! Despite the reassurances of the coolheaded general, I can't help but look up nervously. The threats on the third are becoming more dire by the day and I'm stuck down here in this endless insect war.
"I still feel like I should head upwards. Even if only for a little while," I say. "I can help steady the situation before I return."
Even if I'm only there for a few days, with me and my pets being such powerful tier six monsters we can make a dent in whatever our enemies throw at us. Within that stratum anyway. Once I'm confident no mass invasion of lizards, or uprising of uber demons is around the corner, then I can back down and continue to chomp on termites as we gear up for the final push.
Sloan considers my proposal for a while before she reluctantly agrees.
"That might be a good idea. At the very least it will help settle a few nerves. You must ensure that you are back within two days. I worry that after that much time the enemy will realise you are gone and try to take advantage."
"Good call. I'll get the group together and depart immediately."
Which means kicking Tiny awake and going to look for Sarah. She's been fighting all over the place recently so it takes a little while to track her down.
[Hey there, Sarah! I'm going to be heading back to the third for a couple of days. Interested in coming along?]
The giant bear is currently being tended to by numerous healers as she heaves breaths that sound like the forge bellows operated by the Colony in the main nest.
[Just… give me a minute… I'm still… I'm still calming down.]
[Oh, shoot. My bad.]
I wait a few minutes for her to get a better hold of herself before we continue.
[It seems like you've been getting a lot better at controlling the rages,] I observe. [That's great stuff! Well done.]
She smiles, as much as a terrifying death bear can.
[Thank you. I've been trying hard. I still lose control sometimes, but I can feel the improvement.]
[Nice. So, about the third?]
She hesitates before shaking her shaggy head.
[I think I'll stay. I'm helping here and I'm making a lot of progress with my own problems. Besides, I don't want to go back up there to where Jim is…]
[That's fair enough. Don't go too wild down here. Take care of yourself.]
[I will.]
With that done, it's off to the gate. Back up toward the trunk of the world tree, past the village, up the roots to where the gate stands waiting. After so much time fighting against the hated enemy, I'm almost looking forward to going back to the blazing hot land of the demons. All that smoke, and ash, and … and… what the hell am I looking forward to again?
Ah well. Here we go.
The gate looms in front of me, glowing with incredible mana that makes no sense to me. Wait a second, what am I sensing?
"Brilliant?"
"Uh. Yes…?"
"Where the hell are you hiding? I can sense you but I can't see you."
"I'm working on something. Something dimensional."
"Are you in another dimension right now?!"
"No."
"Damn."
"But I'm hiding in a pocket space!"
"Oh, sweet."
"There's a lot of research to go, but the team and I will crack the secrets soon!"
"I look forward to it."
Nice to see the second champion making strides. If she can make pocket spaces, will gates be far away? My hopes are up!
Feeling positive and not wanting to waste any time, I step toward the gate and brace myself for the disjointed feeling of being transported via magic.
Except I don't feel it.
I look down. My leg hasn't moved. That's odd.
Let's try that again. Take a step forward. Into the gate. Aaaand now. Nope. What about… now! Nothing. HAH! Still not moving…
What the hell, leg? Why have you betrayed me?!
In fact, the more I try to force myself to move forward, the more something deep within reaches out and yanks on my being, locking my body in place. I'm just a few metres away from the gate, but I can't move into it! This is so strange…
Then I feel it, more clearly than I ever have before. A tug. Like a hand taking hold of my leg and pulling on it ever so slightly. Except it isn't my leg, it's my soul. And it isn't a hand, it's the Dungeon.
It's calling me down.
-x-X-x-
I strain. I push. I fight with every fibre of muscle and every strand of brain matter to get my body to move forward! Nothing. As an experiment I try to move backwards and find no resistance, but once I move forward again, no dice. I'm frozen in place as long as I attempt to move forward.
This is crazy! The Dungeon is basically refusing to let me walk forwards?! Are you telling me I don't have control of my own limbs?
Dammit, Gandalf! Get your scrawny wizard backside out here and explain this. I won't take another step until this unpleasant phenomenon is spelled out to me. I mean… I can't take another step… but that's not the point!
[Master? Is everything alright?]
I realise then that my comrades have been watching me skuttle backwards and forwards, straining against an invisible barrier in front of the gate for over a minute now. I can imagine it doesn't look at all that sane, prompting Crinis to check in with me.
[I, uh, seem to be experiencing technical difficulties?] I reply.
Crinis is confused.
[I'm not sure what you mean. Is there a problem?]
[In a sense. I can't walk forward.]
[You can't?] She extends a tentacle forward toward the gate and meets no resistance. [I don't think anything is there?]
[This is a little hard to explain. It feels like the Dungeon itself is preventing me from going through the gate. As if it refuses to let me move somewhere that's going to take me up a stratum.]
[The Dungeon isn't letting you move?]
[Yeah, it sounds weird, I know.]
[CONTEMPTIBLE DUNGEON! UNHAND THE MASTER!]
Exploding with wrath, the tentacled shadow-mass unleashes her fury upon the Dungeon. In the literal sense. Stones fly and the bark beneath us splinters as Crinish lashes out blindly. Tiny, witnessing this chaos, naturally does the first thing that pops into his head, which is to join in. Chunks of wood start flying everywhere as the giant ape joyously smashes his mighty fists into the root beneath his feet.
[Hey. HEY! Knock it off, both of you. That's not the Dungeon, that's the Mother Tree!]
The plants nearby rattle and hiss in fury as my two friends restrain themselves, Tiny much more reluctantly than Crinis. A Grove Keeper stomps over, a rare expression of anger plastered on his face. I reach out to him with my mind before he can go off the deep end.
[Sorry about that! Misunderstanding! We didn't mean to attack the Mother Tree at all.]
Obviously this doesn't satisfy the Grove Keeper one bit and he replies in a tone rumbling with anger.
[You would brush off this attack so brazenly? Hmmmmm. There must be a reckoning!]
[Geez, we hardly chipped the bark, don't get your logs soggy,] I retort, [besides, since you're here I have a question for your mum. She might be able to help me out.]
[And why would she help you?] the Keeper grumps.
[Because you'd be dead if I wasn't here?]
There isn't much he can say to that. Still bristling with anger the Grove Keeper turns toward the bushes and engages in another rustling session with them before he turns back to me.
[Mother is most displeased at her roots being disturbed. What is your question?]
[The Dungeon is preventing me from moving through the gate. Does she have any idea what that might be about?]
[Hmmm. The Dungeon, you say?]
[It sounds crazy, I get it. Talk to the tree would you?]
I'm being a little rude, but to be honest the inability to walk where I want to walk is freaking me out more than I'm letting on. Not being able to go back up a stratum is one thing, I kind of expected that to happen as I kept evolving, but this constant tug dragging me downwards is something else entirely. Now that I'm aware of it, I'm starting to think it's been there for quite a while and I just wasn't conscious of it. Ew, that's weirding me out. I have to wonder why it's so much stronger now than before, has something changed? In fact, when was the last time I travelled up a stratum?
This could also explain why I was so eager and reckless when it came to descending.
[Mother has some understanding of what you refer to,] the Keeper sounds just as surprised as I am at the answer we get back. [The Call. She says that many monsters have felt it at one time or another, even Mother for a brief time. She believes that any monster with the potential to become the final Ancient is called to the depths to take up the mantle.]
Are you serious? Does this mean the Dungeon itself has acknowledged me or something? I don't want it, the Dungeon can get stuffed!
[She experienced it herself? But doesn't now? What made it go away?]
This is an important point.
[She believes that when she evolved to her current form, sacrificing much of her potential to be able to create us, her children, she no longer qualified.]
[So if I take on some useless options during an evolution I won't have to put up with this?]
[Hmmm. Useless?]
[Ah! Sorry, poor phrasing. You know what I meant! Useless in the 'becoming an Ancient' sense. I like you branchies, always have, honest!]
The Keeper gives me a long look before he confers further with his mother.
[She has said all she wishes to say on this matter. Please refrain from attacking her any further.]
[That was totally a mix-up!]
I slap Crinis' tentacles down with an antenna as they start to extend past me to throttle the Keeper as he turns to walk away.
[Ha-ha! Friends!]
I pause.
[Crinis! What the hell?]
[… he was being rude.]
[You weren't connected, there's no way you could know if that was true.]
[I could tell.]
Ah… I can't deal with this right now. Actually, didn't Garralosh mention something about a pull or call? Was this what drove her over the edge as she spent all that time locked in the first stratum? Holy moly, that's horrible. Doesn't forgive what she did, obviously, but having this damn hook yanking at my guts for decades would be enough to make me crazy too.
Gah! I need more information. I have to know what's going on, if it can be subverted or overcome. If the Colony needs my help in the third, I'm supposed to just sit here and do nothing? Ridiculous! But who can I talk to?
Granin. He has to know something, surely. He's the most informed when it comes to Ancient stuff. If I can get back to the third I can track him down, or I can put out a call and get him to come here.
Wait a second. I've got an idea.
[Alright. This might sound a little weird, but listen in guys. Tiny, Crinis, I want you two to pick me up and throw me through the gate.]
Crinis freezes on my back whilst Tiny just looks confused.
[Look, I can't walk through the gate, so I need another way to get through. Invidia, use forcefields to bind me up so I can't bite or move my legs, then you two pick me up and toss me through.]
[Master, I can't do that!]
Crinis is appalled.
Tiny, on the other hand, is grinning widely and flexing his hands.
This might have been a poor idea.