Chapter 2915 - Chry 121

I'm not sure what I was expecting from the golgari when we showed up on their mountain. A friendly reception? Certainly not. However, I really didn't expect something like this.

Marzban roars something and the whole ship changes.

The boat rattles with brathian feet pounding on the wooden deck.

[There's going to be a fight, let me down! I can kill them. Kill them all!]

[I said I'm not letting you down until you relax, and I meant it.]

[Gaaaah!]

Odin thrashes about uselessly, but there's nothing he can do.

[See? You need to work out that anger. I'll float you up some Biomass later, so be quiet for a minute.]

[I'm not a pet!]

[That's the spirit.]

In the distance, a stone is arcing toward us through the air, fired from something about halfway up the giant mountain in front of us. Obviously, I'm not an expert when it comes to siege weaponry or anything, but I don't think this is going to hit us.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter, as the brathian mages get together and blast it out of the sky, sending a shower of stone shards crashing into their hastily raised shields.

[Need any help?] I ask the brathian warrior.

[What can you do in this situation?] he asks tersely.

He's not being rude or anything, he just genuinely wants to know.

[I can catch the rocks in the air and float them away from the fleet, but I suspect they aren't trying to hit us anyway.]

He turns to me with a brow raised, light glittering off the scales on his bare arms.

[You sure about that?]

[Nope, but look at the trajectory of this next one. I think it's going to miss.]

[What next one? Oh, sand and seashells!]

He roars something else at the crew and I can see people are freaking out all over the fleet. Shifting my head slightly I take a better look at the Legion fleet behind me. Right now, they don't appear to be doing anything, but if things devolve any further, they might launch an attack.

I might as well take control of the situation.

With a flex of my will, I begin to pull in vast amounts of mana, channelling it through a gravity magic construct in a furious torrent of power. With the resulting energy, I start to weave, utilising dozens of my mind constructs to compress the energy and shape it into the spell I desire.

As the enormous boulder reaches the peak of its arc and begins to descend, I judge the distance carefully and prepare to release my spell.

[I'll take care of it,] I tell Marzban, and unleash the magic.

Infused with power from my Altar, the sheer raw energy that floods out of my monstrous form is shocking, an invisible shockwave that radiates upwards. Hundreds of metres overhead, a gravity well snaps into being, catching the offending boulder in its irresistible grip.

It doesn't take much to redirect the boulder once I've got it under my influence. I spend a bit of energy to slingshot it around my well and it catapults harmlessly off to the side.

[I'm kind of surprised that they defend themselves by flinging rocks at people,] I remark to Marzban. [It's not like there aren't more impressive options available to us than that.]

The martial leader of the brathian expedition hardens his expression as he continues to stare at the mountain before us, watching for any sign of another projectile.

[Don't underestimate them,] he warns me. [This time, it was only simple rocks, but they can throw far more deadly things than that, and much further than you might expect. Greystone is known as an impenetrable fortress for good reason.]

Living up to its name, the mountain in front of us is indeed formed of grey stone, with little green life marking its rocky cliffs, as one would expect to see here in the fourth. That's not the only modification that the golgari went and made to this particular mountain.

Far from it.

More than any other mountain I've seen on this stratum, Greystone is massive. Rather than doing the normal thing one would expect a mountain to do, which is get smaller the taller it gets, Greystone is almost a pillar, rising up in a near straight line from the water's edge, right up to the top, where it touches the bottom of the third.

Now, I don't need to be told this isn't natural. The mountains on the fourth aren't formed this way, which means they changed the shape of the mountain manually, conjuring up new stone using mana. Perhaps that doesn't sound impressive, the Colony could do the same thing, but staring up at the absurd reality of Greystone, and its sheer, unimaginable weight, really drives home just how much of an effort it would have been.

We are talking about BILLIONS of cubic metres of stone. BILLIONS. Maybe more than that! These mountains already made everything I'd ever seen back on Earth look tiny, but this is absurd! It's like they created a second Everest and then moulded it around the original Everest!

The sheer amount of magical energy that was poured into this, the boggling amount of stone shaping work that would have required. It must have taken them hundreds, perhaps as many as a thousand, years.

Honestly, the Colony would never do something like this, because we would consider it a waste of effort and energy.

For whatever reason, the golgari didn't feel that way. They wanted to make a statement, and they succeeded. It's impressive as heck.

As we continue to sail towards this absurd pillar of stone, there are no further incidents, thank Gandalf. That doesn't mean the tension is gone, though. Eran is furious.

It doesn't bode well for our stay amongst the people of stone.

-x-X-x-

[A training drill gone wrong! Of all the absurd claims to make! How dare they treat the Conglomerate this way? I'll set an embargo on them, I'll establish tariffs. They won't be able to import a wheel of cheese when I'm done with them!]

Eran is seriously upset at the treatment she's received from the golgari. She just returned to the fleet after heading ashore to negotiate the terms of our stay, and to demand an explanation for the giant rocks that flew our way.

It would appear she isn't satisfied with the response.

[I warned you they wouldn't be friendly. Relations between us and the golgari are probably worse than those between us and the ka'armodo. Would I describe it as open warfare? Not really. But it's close.]

She stares up at me and points an accusatory finger.

[Whatever their attitude towards you, it shouldn't matter because they aren't hosting the Colony, they are hosting the Brathian Island Conglomerate! As a premier trading and merchant cooperative, we have agreements with every major power in the fourth stratum. And they agreed that we would be allowed to come here!]

[Did you tell them you'd be bringing ten thousand ants along for the ride?]

[Of course we did!] she throws her arms up, still visibly furious. [Trying to conceal that sort of information would have led to a disaster. They've been perfectly aware of who would be part of this trade mission.]

That doesn't mean they didn't plan on being hostile when we got here. I don't bother to point it out to Eran, I'm sure she's perfectly aware. Part of her anger is probably because she realised this exact point. The golgari only allowed us to come so they could spit in our faces.

I mean, rude, but not all that surprising.

[We can just leave?] I suggest. [Is there really a need for us to subject ourselves to this treatment? I've no doubt it's only going to get worse.]

She considers it, seriously considers it, which is astounding to me. I've come to understand that a brathian passing up the chance to wheel and deal is like an ant refusing to tickle a grub. Absurd! Unthinkable!

[We will proceed with the mission,] she says finally. [We may be able to salvage something from this, no matter how those rock-heads treat us. If not, we will have tried. They are bound by many treaties when it comes to trade and interacting with my people, I'm confident we will be safe. However, just in case, Marzban, I want you and your people to take every precaution. I know this will be difficult for you. I apologise.]

The scarred warrior offers a crisp salute.

[Not to worry, Eran. My people will make sure we stay safe.]

I'm not exactly worried about the brathians, I'm confident they are going to be safe, it's my siblings that I'm worried about.

[Do we know what arrangements they are allowing for me and mine? How many are allowed into the mountain?]

At my question, Eran loses some of her fire and looks distinctly uncomfortable.

[They only want a hundred inside.]

[A hundred.]

[Yes.]

.

When was the last time a hundred ants were on their own anywhere? This is intolerable! And who's going to be in more danger, the hundred in the mountain, or the nine thousand, nine hundred who are stuck in the boats?!

Ugh. This sucks.

[I'm going to need to talk to Sloan about this,] I say, firmly.

[Anthony we will make sure]

[I'll be talking to Sloan about what we decide to do,] I cut her off, not trying to be rude. [I'm sorry, but this is a family decision. We'll let you know what we decide.]

Moored in the shadow of the sheer enormity of Greystone, I wait a little while as Sloan is brought over to my tub. For good measure, Cobalt comes with her, and I can tell that the carver is enamoured with the unnatural mountain.

"No, we are not building an absurd pillar to heaven," I tell Cobalt immediately.

"Eldest, where on Pangera is heaven? The third? And no, we would never do this, but it is impressive, you have to admit."

I sure do.

"Look, they're only going to allow a hundred ants into the mountain, everyone else is stuck on boats. I don't trust the golgari as far as I can throw them wait, I can throw them really far. I don't trust the golgari, they're going to try something. If we decide to go ahead with this, then I'm going to stay on the boat."

I figure I'll be able to protect over nine thousand ants out here, but only a hundred in there. It's not a difficult calculation.

This sends Sloan and Cobalt into a period of deep thought, their antennae waving as they consider their options.

"What do the brathians want to do?" Cobalt asks.

"What do you think? They want to trade."

More thinking.

"We will have to go through with it, but I am similarly concerned about security," Sloan declares. "We can't let our trading partner down, and they know more about this sort of thing than we do. However, I suggest that the hundred who go inside consist of mostly soldiers, and the cavalry. That way, their human partners can go inside with them."

Makes sense, I suppose. We get more people inside while still only sending a hundred ants.

"Will it be an issue if we don't send that many carvers inside?" I ask Cobalt.

"It would be if we were trying to conduct normal business," she replies, "but we are only making a show of it, I suspect, then turning around and getting out safely. I agree with Sloan, this is the better option."

"Guess that means I'm stuck on the boat. Dammit. Good luck to you, then. Hopefully, it all works out."

-x-X-x-

"You want me to go inside the mountain?" Isaac asked, surprised.

He turned and gazed out over the open waters toward the Legion fleet. It didn't look like they were moving at all. Perhaps they had no plans to head ashore at this stop?

He turned back to the Eran.

"I'm good," he said, smiling broadly and knuckling his moustache. "I like it out here on the water."

But what if the Legion decided to dock later? It could happen.

"Check in with me again later, though," he suggested, his eyes sliding back to the other fleet. "The situation might change."

Eran Thouris, leader of the trade mission and head negotiator of the Brathian Island Conglomerate, fixed him with a hard stare. This was the kind of look that Isaac had become accustomed to over the years. When you said 'no' to a person whom you were in no position to refuse, they tended to give you this kind of look.

"Anthony has ordered it," she said with finality. "You and your fellow cavalry men and women are to accompany a small team of carvers within the mountain. You are to organise and lead them. Begin now. We disembark in ten minutes."

Plops.

Finally, he was close to Morrelia again, and she remained tantalisingly out of reach, just on the horizon, haunting his waking hours along with his sleeping ones. Sometimes he swore he saw her, standing proud on the deck of the lead Legion ship, like an all-conquering Queen of old.

Irritated, he stomped over to Anthony, still sprawled in the middle of the deck, idly waggling his antennae and generally being huge. Isaac still wasn't sure exactly how he could speak using the ants' pheromone language, he certainly hoped his Class change hadn't blessed him with a new organ, but it worked somehow.

Talking to Cavalant had ensured he was proficient, as well. That ant was one hell of a critic.

"Did you really order me to go ashore?" he demanded of the giant monster.

Anthony didn't turn around, because he couldn't.

"Yes. It's the best way to keep our people safe."

Isaac slumped. If Anthony had decreed it, then it was going to happen. The ants did whatever he told them to do, usually, even though Isaac had no idea why.

"Why are you in charge, anyway? I don't really understand how it works."

"I'm the oldest."

"So?"

He could almost feel the mental sigh rolling off the giant ant.

"You aren't an ant, so don't worry about it, Isaac. Get your people together to get on shore. Help keep my siblings safe. Besides, the only reason you want to stay out here is because you think the Legion won't go ashore. They will. In small numbers, but they will."

"Why small numbers?"

"Because I'm out here. The only reason they came this far is to kill me, remember? The Legion didn't sail a fleet all over the fourth for tea and biscuits."

Isaac stroked his moustache and pondered for a moment.

"Do you think.?"

"I don't know if Morrelia is going to go ashore or not! Holy moly, Isaac. I swear your brain has gone to mush. Get your act together, man."

The demon floating overhead thrashed and spat, no doubt saying something to Anthony via mental communication.

"You're both weird," Anthony huffed. "Try and focus, Isaac. I want my family to come back safe. That includes you. Now get going."

Left without a choice, Isaac grumbled before turning around and heading below deck to find the rest of his squad. Cavalant was the first to detect something was different.

"New orders?" she asked, rapidly cleaning her antennae. "I don't know why they bothered to tell you, the Eldest should just tell me these things."

"We're heading into the mountain," Isaac sighed. "I think there's going to be nothing but a road full of plops ahead."

"Pessimist," his partner dismissed his concerns too quickly. "The Eldest is here, things are going to be fine."

All of the ants talked about Anthony like that, but Isaac struggled to share their confidence at times. After all, when their minds connected, the giant monster who towered over him sounded so young.

It made sense, all the ants were young but stil.

"Alright then," Isaac announced aloud to the other riders. "We've got a mission straight from the big guy himself. The golgari aren't letting many ants inside, so we are going in. Get your stuff together. We have five minutes."

Just like that, Isaac found himself as part of the official delegation striding off the smaller landing ship, across the wooden boards extended from the shore, and into a stone tunnel shaped into the side of the mountain. Within, the delegation found a welcoming party of golgari waiting for their arrival.

There were only six of them, which was a surprise, each coated in brilliantly gleaming minerals that formed their second skin. And of course, they were huge, each towering over Isaac, easily eight feet tall if they were an inch.

"We are representatives of the trading circle," the central figure bowed at the waist in welcome. "My name is Gemmas. I extend our warmest welcome to the representative of the Brathian Island Conglomerate."

Not a word of greeting for the ants of the Colony. Isaac felt compelled to share a message using his magical pheromones.

"Cavalant? This is plops, right here."

"Shut up."

"I'm telling you, this is going to go bad."

"Based on what evidence? Now be quiet and keep your eyes open."

Eran was replying, her tone rather more curt than one would normally expect from such a seasoned negotiator.

"I thank you for your welcome, we have felt the weight of it already. As you see, we have brought only a hundred members of the Colony with us into Greystone. I hope that assuages any fears or terrors your people may have felt?"

If any of these insults were landing with Gemmas, it didn't show on her rock-covered face.

"Please, this way," she gestured for them to follow her further into the dark tunnel. "There are members of the Shapers circle, Warriors circle, and Noble circle waiting to greet you deeper within the mountain."

Isaac's hand tightened around the pole of his spear.

He really didn't like this.

-x-X-x-

Golgari society has long been divided in a caste structure based on profession. The outer circle, or the fourth, consists of those regular craftsmen and women, the farmers, the miners, the smiths and tailors and traders. No matter how high a level they reach, or what impressive feats they achieve, it is impossible for them to climb higher than the circle in which they live.

A half-step above them is the Shaper circle, a name given to those with the ability to shape the mana of Pangera and bend it to their will. In many ways, their inclusion above the fourth circle is something of a begrudging nod of acceptance from the golgari caste system, which existed long before the Rending.

For this reason, the Warriors have always held a dominant position within golgari society. It was they who fought and defended the early territories of their people, before mana began to saturate the surface and the Shapers emerged to wield it.

Above them all stands the Noble circle. These are the ruling Class of the golgari, but make no mistake, there are no Shapers among them. Family members of the Noble families who choose to pursue the art of magic and join the Shapers are cut off from their families.

This social structure is as rigid and unyielding as the golgari themselves, and yet, their people continue to thrive. The Empire of Stone survived the Rending, rebuilding itself from the devastation left by Yarrum. To them, theirs is a successful model for society. Why would they change it?

- Excerpt from 'People of Stone' by Xinci

Isaac found it difficult to follow multiple conversations at the same time, which he felt was a natural thing to struggle with. This task only became exponentially harder when one of those conversations was out loud and one of them was conducted with pheromones. Isaac was uncomfortable with pheromonal conversation on several levels.

Where and how did he produce pheromones? How did he receive them? If his Class had grown small antennae on his body somewhere, he would have a serious complaint. The ants were evasive, at best, when he tried to get answers to questions like this, saying they couldn't possibly know how Classes worked.

"Are you paying attention, Isaac?" Cavalant huffed at him.

"Of course I'm paying attention," he snapped back, "but having you chirp at me all the time isn't helping."

"I'm ensuring you're focused on the right things."

"You are, in this moment, distracting me from the very things you want me to focus on!"

"That's because you aren't paying attention."

"I would be paying attention if you stopped nattering at me!"

"You just admitted you aren't paying attention," the ant noted, smugly. "Which means I'm right to tell you to focus."

Isaac felt a headache coming on. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed a long suffering sigh.

"Let's just agree, the two of us, to not talk, and listen to the envoys speak to each other. Then we can review afterwards and decide if someone wasn't paying enough attention."

"I can't understand their words."

"I know you are getting a live translation from a mind mage! Stop being difficult!"

Finally, finally his partner and mount fell silent, flicking her antennae in a 'have it your way' kind of gesture, allowing Isaac to pay attention to what was going on around him once more.

Only a hundred ants had entered the fortress, and fully half of them were members of his cavalry squad. That meant fifty burly, powerful soldiers, built for strength, endurance and speed, along with their human riders, each one a trained warrior on their own.

Against what the golgari had brought, it didn't seem like much at all.

Where before they had been greeted by six of the massive rock-people, now there were easily three hundred. Actually, knowing the golgari, there were likely exactly three hundred.

Eran was in the middle of speaking to the warrior triad in charge of proceedings. Because of course the merchants couldn't run it. They weren't allowed to run anything.

"We are grateful for this forceful and imposing greeting," Eran said, not flinching away from calling out their nonsense.

She reminded Isaac of his ma'am a bit. She didn't tolerate nonsense either, even when she probably should.

The warrior, covered in what appeared to be a gleaming coat of almost liquid metal, smiled wide and spread his hands.

"We simply want to ensure the correct message is sent regarding your welcome here. It wouldn't do to have the Brathian Island Conglomerate think they were unworthy of our attention."

"We note, and will remember, your treatment of this delegation," Eran replied smoothly and Isaac struggled not to smirk. She was about half the height of the man she was talking to, but she didn't hesitate to lay down the threats.

"We wouldn't want it any other way," the warrior replied smoothly. "Please follow me and we will escort you to your quarters. I expect you are fatigued after your long journey."

He and his triad members turned to leave, only for Eran to interrupt them before they could move more than half a step.

"Actually, we would like to make the presentation as soon as possible and be on our way."

The massive warrior turned back, a quizzical expression on his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, I want to complete our business here, now, and be on our way. I'm sure that won't be an issue? To delay these simple matters of trade would waste much of your precious warriors' time."

The silver warrior stood tall, a hand grasping his chin as he considered the much smaller negotiator through narrowed eyes.

"It would be unseemly to treat our guests so rudely," he hazarded.

Isaac was confused. Did the golgari want them to stick around, or leave as soon as possible? He would have bet one of Cavalant's legs that the warrior was going to leap at the chance to be rid of them as soon as possible. They couldn't be worried about offending the brathians now, it was already far too late for that!

What was going on?

If anything, that response only seemed to firm Eran's resolve.

"We would take no offence. In fact, I believe you would be doing my people a great favour were we to complete our arrangements as soon as possible. Actually, I must insist."

Anger flashed through the warrior's eyes.

"The Warriors of the golgari are not to be ordered by the likes of you."

Eran Thouris did not bat an eyelid.

"You are bound by the terms of our treaty to ensure the safe conduct of this trade delegation, and that its business is concluded fairly. We are going to unload and display our goods right here, right now. If you aren't ready to view them in two hours, then you will be in breach of the agreement and there. Will. Be. Consequences."

Strangely enough, the warrior seemed to relax. He glanced down at his triad mate to his left, who nodded, subtly.

"That is acceptable," he said. "We will have our people meet you here when the time is right. In the meantime, I will leave our warriors here to ensure your safety."

"I bet," Eran said, her voice dripping with sarcasm before she turned back to the gathered brathian and ants.

"Let's get everything ready," she declared. "Move it!"

-x-X-x-

This is their secret plot? They want to drop a freaking mountain on my head?! Why waste all that time with subterfuge and the like when this was the plan all along?

I guess they wanted the brathians out of the waythe important ones, anyway. With Eran and her family gone, they figured they could go ahead and try to squash nearly ten thousand ants in one fell swoop.

I'm not about to kid myself, though. It's me they want. Same as the Legion, who seem to be gearing up for something in the distance. Opportunists.

With the big bad mythic, tier seven ant out of the way, the rest of the Colony aren't nearly so dangerous to deal with. It makes sense, in a coldhearted sort of way. I mean, what did we ever do to the golgari? Nothing!

Well nothing that bad.

Smaller chunks of stone, each the size of a house, are already tumbling down the side of Greystone as the enormous hunk they've carved away is still breaking free. Slowly, it pulls further and further out, reaching hundreds of metres from the side of the mountain already.

The sound is awful, like the mountain itself is screaming.

Ahhh, this is a bit of a tight spot, isn't it? Something that big falling from a height like that I don't even want to try and calculate how much force that's going to generate.

Goes to show, even in a world filled with all sorts of ridiculous magic, dropping a big ol' rock on someone is still pretty damn effective. Not that I could describe this as a 'rock'. You can easily fit a demon city or two on a plate that size.

It's at times like this that I truly appreciate the wonderful capabilities that having multiple brains, each running multiple mind-constructs, can afford a monster. It might seem like I'm considering this situation in a rather relaxed manner, but I promise that's not the case. My main mind is fairly relaxed about it all, but only because dozens and dozens of other minds are completely wigging out.

"Eldest! You need to flee!" Protectant materialises out of nowhere to yell at me.

In fact, the entire squad appears for possibly the first time ever. Judging by the look of them, they're getting ready to force me to abandon ship using some method they've cooked up. In fact, I know that's what they want to do, because I can sense it through the Vestibule.

"Relax," I tell them easily. "I can take care of this. Don't do anything weird. Actually, could you do me a favour and get ready to defend me from the Legion? I've got no doubt they want to get in on this action."

"You could protect yourself from that danger by leaving, Eldest!" Protectant insists.

I glare down at the much smaller ant.

"That's not how we operate in this family, Protectant. Grant put herself in harm's way to keep me alive, and she died for it. Don't think, not for a single second, that I wouldn't do the same for any of you. This is the Colony. I'm not more important than any of my sisters, and I'll be damned before I run away and leave ten thousand of my siblings to die in my place.

"Now get out of my way and rally the troops from the other ships. It's going to get dangerous here in a second."

They don't like it, I can see they don't like it. What I'm saying goes directly against their own orders, which is to put me first, no matter what. On the other mandible, they know I'm right.

"Are you even doing anything, Eldest?" Protectant tries one more time. "I can't sense you doing anything to defend yourself."

Overhead, the mountain continues to rumble as an unthinkable mass of rock tears itself loose, then begins to fall.

"Of course I'm doing something! Don't be daft! Just wait another sec."

Whumph!

At that moment, all the mana I had reached out to draw towards me arrives in a torrent. My greedy minds seize upon it and begin shoving that vast flow into the ready and waiting gravity construct I have prepared.

I'm going to need a heck of a lot of gravity mana for this situation.

"See? Now go!"

My guards scatter to rouse the rest of the ants aboard the ships to action. I tune them out and turn my attention to churning out all the mana I possibly can and stuffing it into the spell I need.

I'm ripping in so much mana I feel like I'm in the eye of a hurricane. Energy is flowing at a ridiculous rate, flooding into my core, then straight out again and into the construct. Even the construct is straining to the point of bursting, there's so much power being forced through it.

Out the other end comes sweet, sweet gravity mana.

With my main mind, I seize hold of it and condense it, squashing it down, compressing it further before finally holding it tight as a ball of densely packed gravity mana. Which grows more dense. Then more dense. Then more.

Overhead I try not to think about what's overhead. The size of the rock is comical horrific absurd. An enormous plate of stone has now sheared off the side of the mountain and flattened out, falling toward the fleet at tremendous speed, though it appears to drop in slow motion.

It won't be long until I can't see anything overhead except for this hunk of stone, and it'll still be twenty seconds before it lands on my head. It literally feels like the sky is falling.

I have to say, this is spiteful stuff from the golgari. I'm guessing they've done it this way so they can claim that it was a mistake? They lost control of the magic holding the mountain together. There was a mistake made by the Shapers performing maintenance on Greystone. Whatever.

Since they want to do it that way, they can't really complain if I happen to damage their precious mountain while defending myself.

Right?

-x-X-x-

Overhead, the enormous chunk of stone looms like the hammer of a fat and drunken god. Millions of tons? Billions of tons?

Who can say? I'm certainly not busting out the scales, that's for sure!

My brains burn inside my head as they are pushed beyond the limits which exist past the first set of limits. Every mind-construct screams with effort, getting double, or triple the amount of effort from each cell of my brains that they should be capable of.

The mana flows like a hurricane, and I mould it to my will, forcing it down, through the construct and out the other side, into my rapidly growing spell.

All the while, the great hunk of stone falls towards us.

My first spell fires off with an all too familiar howl. A gravity bomb, not even an especially large one, rockets upward from my mouth and flies directly into the face of the collapsing mountain.

All too soon, the size of the bomb is completely dwarfed by the city-sized hunk of rock, but I'm not worried. Well, I'm not worried about that. This was merely the first salvo, and I'm confident it will do its job.

It takes longer than I expect for the spell to hit; the stone is simply so huge, I'd assumed it was much closer than it actually was, not that it's a relaxing thought. If anything, it helps to drive home just how much danger I'm actually in.

As expected, the moment the bomb comes into contact with the mountain, it expands, and begins to devour. However, it is hopelessly, laughably outclassed by what it faces. In an instant, the spell vanishes from sight, disappearing inside the stone as it remains in place, but the rock falls around it.

With my unique gravity sense, I know that my spell only managed to penetrate a little over a hundred metres into the enormous plate of stone, which must be three to four hundred metres thick at least. I suppose this is proof that there is only so much 'suck' in each gravity bomb I make, which is surely proportional to how much mana I put into the spell. The sheer volume of stone was too much for such a piddly bomb to consume, and it was quickly overwhelmed.

However, it did its job perfectly, carving a tunnel to the interior of the colossal stone.

Mana continues to flow, and I send all of it into one, dark mass. Energy thunders through my body, pushing the gravity mana construct to its limit. I have to dedicate too many minds to just maintaining and controlling the flow of energy, not to mention operating the construct and holding it together, so I don't have as many as I'd like holding my spell together.

Which is a problem.

Rapidly taking shape is a ball of super-compressed mana, revolving and spinning within me as I focus inwards. Every spare mind, along with my main brain, is concentrating on this alone, squashing down the fresh gravity mana and then feeding into the growing monstrosity.

The still-forming bomb darkens continuously as an endless stream of power flows into it. Gradually, I'm forced to peel minds away from gathering external mana and dedicate them to holding the damn thing together, lest it explode in my face.

The Gravity Bomb roils and churns violently, threatening to come undone, the sheer volume of power forced within it straining to burst free.

Oh no you don't!

Mandibles clenched, brains steaming, I push, and I push, and I push. The spell firms, then wobbles, then firms again as I continue the unrelenting flow of magic.

There's probably people yelling at me right now. Protectant, doubtlessly, but even I don't have the brain power to focus on something like that right now. Every mind construct, every neuron, is dedicated to this spell. Increasingly, more and more of them are dedicated to simply containing it.

From an endlessly deep purple, the colour of the bomb changes to a nigh perfect, seamless black, and the spell itself sucks in the magic I push toward it without any input from me.

Unlike the last time this happened, I eagerly offer up all the power I can summon. All minds are cut off from external mana gathering and instead dedicated to maintaining the spell as I reach within, and empty out my gravity mana gland.

A flood of mana is released, and it is consumed.

In an instant, the bomb within my body has become a violent and unstable nightmare. It thrashes and boils within as I force my will upon it, trying to hold the damn thing together with all of my might!

I just. Need. It. To. Stabilise. For. A. Second!

Throwing back my head, I aim as best I can, then let it rip.

In the same moment, my Altar drains of energy as I empower the spell to my utmost limit.

There, just above my head, a monster is born.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWLLLL!!!!!

The world goes black, and the sky starts to scream.

Sails are torn from masts, ropes are ripped apart, the formerly calm waters rise up around us, lifting the boats along with them. Frothing waves form and crash into each other in an instant, and the wind. Holy moly, the wind.

The Gravity Bomb I fired is so perfectly dark I can't even see the edge of it, the light around it is completely lost. It's almost impossible to tell the size of it, but I fear the thing is almost as large as I am, and it hasn't even expanded yet.

From kilometres around, the wind comes, a shrieking hurricane forms around the bomb as it consumes the air around it, sucking in more, which sucks in more, which sucks in more, until my antennae are whipping against my carapace and I fear they're going to break off.

What have I done?

"Uh maybe hold onto something. This could be bad."

-x-X-x-

It's a strange feeling, watching that terrifying sphere of complete darkness flying upward. More than anyone else, I have an inkling about what's to come, but even I'm not sure exactly how it will go down.

I only have seconds before the inevitable impact and expansion of the gravity bomb, and here I am, floating on a ship, unable to anchor myself to anything. Ah, hindsight, my old friend, we meet again, here on the edge of extinction.

Even my attempt to warn the ants within range is totally useless. The pull is already so strong that my pheromones are whisked away along with the air around me. My minds are currently sagging inside my head, finally relieved of the incredible strain I put them under, but I force them to keep working, spinning together a broad mind-bridge that I snap onto everyone I can reach.

[THIS IS AN URGENT, IMMINENT THREAT OF DEATH ALERT, AND I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THE ROCK. The spell I threw up there is going to go crazy. Ants, you all know what I'm talking about. Weigh these ships down, anchor them to the bottom of the Lake if possible. Activate the bubble shield things because the water is going to rise up all around us. MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!]

People respond, shouting back questions, trying to make sense of what I told them. Thankfully, others are more proactive, already leaping into action. I can feel mana stirring all around me as ants and brathian mages frantically begin to weave magic, trying to keep themselves and the fleet safe.

All the while, that dreadful, horrifying shriek of the wind continues to rattle my carapace and send shivers running through my mandibles.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWLLLL!!!!!

It's beyond deafening, and this is only the beginning. For the first time, I feel a quiver of genuine fear run through me at the thought of what I have made. This gravity bomb is going to be the biggest, most devastating thing I've cast, and it's not going to be close.

I'm not sure I'm ready for the consequences. Or if I'll even survive them. However, ready or not, it's coming regardless.

Desperately I begin to cast about for something I can do to try and protect the fleet. How the heck am I going to counteract the incredible amount of gravity that bomb is going to produce? I'm floating on a boat, for goodness' sake! There's no hole I can jump into, no way to burrow down to safety, or create a hardened shield of rock to protect the fleet, what the heck would I anchor it to? The water?!

A sad realisation strikes me. The only thing I can do to try and stave off the monstrous pull that's going to come our way, is to counter it with another pull.

My brains groan in despair as I put them to work once again, sucking in mana and pushing it through the construct. If I can create a Well that covers the entire fleet, it might be enough to cancel out at least some of the pull that's coming.

It's possible that better ideas exist, but I sure can't think of them, so I'm going to do this. The only problem is, there's no way in heck that I'll have a Gravity Well ready to go before the impact. I simply can't push my brains as hard as I did before, they're running on fumes right now.

As the fleet erupts into action around me, mages trying to coordinate, soldiers trying to impose order and tie down everything they can, I catch a glimpse of the Legion fleet in the distance.

Wisely, they are putting some distance between themselves and this golgari madness, sailing as fast as they can to get away from the drop zone. It's not going to be enough.

I toss the thought back and forth in my mind for a second before I clack my mandibles in irritation. Morrelia's over there, I can't leave them out of the loop. With great effort, I weave together a mind bridge and fling it toward the Legion ships, hoping it will cover the distance, and latch onto someone.

Thankfully, it does, if only just.

[Tie yourselves down so you don't get sucked off the deck of your ships! My spell is going to reach you!]

It's not much of a warning, but it's all I can muster. I cut the contact immediately, hoping whoever I managed to latch onto is smart enough to spread the word around.

Overhead, the blurred edge of the dark meets the plummeting stone, and I'm pleased enough to see that my aim was on point at least. The bomb flies directly into the hole carved by the previous one, vanishing within the rock and disappearing from view.

Fearful, I lower my body down to the deck of the ship, but there's nowhere for me to go. Carefully, I fully crouch, letting the bottom of my carapace rest on the deck, and then extend my legs out, pushing through the gaps in the railing on the edge of the ship. If I start to rise off the deck, at least I'll have something to hold on to.

A second later, it happens.

My antennae, sensitive to the ebb and flow of gravity thanks to a mutation, buzz like a phone set to vibrate. They literally begin to tremble and shake as an unfathomable new gravitational force erupts directly over my head.

I can't see it yet, but I know it's there, inside the stone, like a hidden dragon, or crouching tiger that's also a black hole.

Then it happens. The massive rock, millions upon millions of tons of condensed stone, which had been plummeting down toward us with enough force to flatten a mountain, begins to slow.

The rock above groans loud enough to send ripples flowing through the still-frothing water around us. Cracking sounds can be heard, sharp detonations deep within the stone that echo outward for dozens of kilometres in every direction.

For a brief moment, I'm hopeful. Maybe, I've calibrated everything perfectly, and the gravity bomb will consume the city-sized chunk of condensed rock, and then vanish. That'd be nice!

Then I hear it, a deep, resounding crack, so sharp and profound it feels like the world was snapped in two.

The rock breaks right in the middle, and I see for myself what I have made.

Holy. Moly.

This is going to suck.

-x-X-x-

The stone shatters down the middle, shards flying in all directions, then slowing, freezing, and reversing, as they are pulled back to the force of the spell which had sent them flying in the first place.

Now exposed to the air, the bomb makes itself known in the familiar, terrifying way.

I can't even describe it as a howl, or a shriek. It goes well beyond anything I have experienced before. The air around me is simply ripped away, and the next instant, I'm caught within a hurricane.

The ship creaks and groans worryingly as the winds rip and tear at every loose scrap of cloth, rope and sail. Barrels are whipped straight off the deck, smashing into the railings and tipping right over the top.

The water around us is even worse. Even before the bomb expanded, it was frothing and thrashing, but now it's straight up storming. Waves rise seemingly at random, smashing into each other. Before I can twitch, the fleet finds itself rising and falling on colossal waves that threaten to capsize the ships at any moment.

Thankfully, more and more of the bubble shields are popping into place as the brathian sailors work their magic, so even if they flip over, the water won't rush in and drown the ants. Well, so long as the ships don't rip apart, which is a serious concern!

The unspeakably large chunk of rock is no longer my concern, as above my head, it is being devoured by what I have made.

I'm almost glad I can't hear anything over the wind, because the noise up there must be dreadful.

No longer caught by the gravity of Pangera, the rock is now falling toward the epicentre of the Gravity Bomb, which hangs in the air like a black sun. It's hard to even look at it. A black sphere of indeterminate size, the light around it bends and warps in dizzying ways, replicated in each of my thousands of lenses until the image becomes headache-inducing. What is easy to see, is the rate at which it tears the stone apart.

Huge, building-sized chunks are ripped away from the mass, hundreds every second, smashing into each other, tumbling through the air, then falling into a spiral around the void. Like soap suds circling the drain, they whip around and around, torn and shredded over and over again until they vanish into the dark mass, never to be seen again.

At the rate it's going, it won't even take that long for the spell to consume the entirety of what the golgari attempted to drop on us. How long is it going to take for the thing to snuff out?

Please, Gandalf, don't let it last too long.

From the thrashing and frothing waves, spinning towers of water begin to rise as the winds shriek around them. Twisters of dizzying size and power begin to form, sucking the water up, rising higher and higher toward the source of the horrific pull.

It's already hard at work on me, my legs are locked into place under the railings, and I am struggling to hold on. The main issue I have is that the railing is likely to break well before my legs do, and even then, the boat is going to get pulled up with the water soon!

All in all, things aren't going well.

I can feel my siblings hard at work in all of the ships around me, adding weight, trying to strengthen and bolster the ships, and some have even begun creating and moulding huge anchors of stone, extending them down beneath the ships, seeking to reach the bottom of the lake. I hope it's enough.

I myself am frantically trying to put a gravity well together, my exhausted brains limping along, but gaining speed as the fatigue is gradually washed away by the nourishing energy of the Vestibule.

If I had a million ants within range, this would be so much easier, but with only ten thousand, it takes time to recover from exertions like the one that created this mess.

Despite all the chaos that surrounds me, I'm still aware enough to notice when the mountain of Greystone itself begins to take damage. No matter how densely they packed that stone together, there's no way it can resist the kind of forces that are coming to bear against it. Fracture lines begin to appear up and down the face of the mountain, stone tearing loose and floating up to the waiting maw that is the void.

I'm so glad the bomb went off so far away from the roof of the stratum. If it started ripping into the base of the third, goodness knows what might happen.

Whoops! There goes some of the railing, torn straight off the ship. Not a fan of this development. In an instant, my body starts to rise on one side as my legs wiggle free in the air. Thinking quickly, I bend my legs on the other side, hooking the joint around the wooden beam, then latch my mandibles onto it.

I'm not going anywhere until this railing goes with me! Which won't be long, let's be honest.

Come on, brains! Let's get this show on the road!

The waters around the ship have reached a point where I can't even see half the fleet anymore. Between the ever-expanding twisters of water and the vicious whirlpools that have formed, not to mention the towering waves that crash over the bubble shield, I'm lucky I can see my own mandibles!

I hear wood buckling and I groan internally as I see the railing begin to rattle and tear, rising up from the deck it's nailed to.

Well, nards.

Desperate, I check on the progress of the gravity well, and I can't say I'm pleased with what I see. My brains have been doing their best, but creating a well strong enough to counteract the thing overhead, which I dumped all of my own personal reserve of gravity mana into, simply isn't going to happen. I'm just going to have to let it rip and hope for the best.

Which is what I do, unleashing the Gravity Well and empowering it with the little dregs of the energy the Altar has been able to gather from my siblings in this short time frame. The spell snaps into place, covering the entire fleet.

Let it be enough.

-x-X-x-

Now, obviously the gravity well I created is pulling in the opposite direction from the black sun chewing up every piece of the planet it can get its little grubby hands on. However, it's not enough to counteract the force, not even remotely. Despite deploying the spell, the lake is still going crazy, the air is still screaming past me, and the boat itself is starting to lift up out of the water.

But the railing hasn't broken! Whoo! I'll take the wins where I can get them.

I get the feeling the well is doing just enough to take the edge off, which is nice, sure, but it isn't enough to save my backside.

For that, I'm going to have to rely on the industrious ant and brathian mages hard at work beneath me, and inside the ships of the rest of the fleet. All I can do is float, three legs hooked around a wooden beam, as I watch my spell consume and consume and consume.

It's apocalyptic up there.

Spiralling pillars of water have towered all the way up and they too are spiralling down into the core, along with ever increasing chunks of Greystone. I'm really hoping the spell is only ripping into the outer shell of the mountain and not any inhabited areas. I get the feeling the bulk of the added rock, or at least a mega-thick layer of it, is just there for defence and for show, which I hope continues to be the case. The golgari might have brought this upon themselves, but I don't think they would care all that much if several thousand of their citizens got mushed inside a black hole.

There are several spirals forming around the black sun, revolving around it and each other as they circle the drain down to oblivion. Rock, water, air and everything else it can reach is there, being yoinked in. Someone should shoot some fire at it, so all the nations are represented in the destruction.

Snap.

I don't like the sound of that.

Snap!

I really don't like the sound of that!

As well I shouldn't. With one final shuddering pull, the railing snaps free from the deck, and all of a sudden, I take flight.

Ahhhhhh nards! Flying is freeing and all, but I didn't want to experience it like this!

[Eldest! Take hold!]

[What?]

I turn just in time to see something whip up towards me from the deck below and I snag it in my mandibles. It's a rope, a great chonking thick one. Some of the mages below deck must have used some wind magic or something to send it flying at me.

[Thanks! Make sure the rope is fastened to something sturdy!]

Not that I like to draw attention to it, but I'm rather heavy, after all.

[Not to worry! We've secured it to the keel.]

SNAP!

[That broke.]

Dang.

I crunch my mandibles shut, severing the rope. Any further damage to the ship is going to put my siblings at risk and that's not worth it. Without anything to tether me down, I rise faster and faster. Once I'm free of the gravity well, my acceleration increases even further.

Well, Anthony, you giant moron, you really did it this time. Finally, after so many close calls, you're finally going to get turned into pulp by your own spell. There should be some sort of award for idiocy of this magnitude. Not only for the impressive scale of the poor decisions made, but also their regularity.

A normal person, certainly a normal ant, would have learned from their mistakes after the first, absolutely after the second, near-death experience. Me, though? Oho! Absolutely not. I'm made of sterner stuff.

The scene above my head as I rise toward it defies description. An unreasonable level of destruction, a seemingly unending appetite for chaos. The black sun is a silent, still, monstrous entity, difficult even to look at.

Rising rapidly now, there isn't much I can do to save myself anymore. My brains have turned to sludge after their heroic efforts in creating this mess, and it's not like I can swim through the air back down to the ship.

Or CAN I?

No. No I can't. Nice try, though.

Yeesh, how high up am I at this point? Pretty darn high, a couple hundred metres for sure. Honestly, would the fall be worse than being crushed within a black hole? That's a stupid question, of course it would be.

Well. I had a good run. It's hard not to get misty-eyed, thinking of my family and my siblings. Except ants don't have tear ducts, but I'll ignore that. The Queen, my mother in this life, certainly gets my vote for 'best mother that I've ever had'. Not exactly a difficult award to win, in retrospect. The Queen spoke to me, that pretty much put her over the top straight away.

I didn't have brothers or sisters as a human, that I'm aware of, anyway. I was separated from the family home at a young age so it's possible, I suppose? But those theoretical siblings can't compare to the incredible sense of worth and wellbeing I get from my sisters. My thousands upon thousands upon thousands of sisters.

I wonder if Vibrant could outrun a black hole?

I kick off a passing rock and roll myself over, I don't want to look up at the black hole, I'd rather look down at the fleet. Looks like they're going to hang in there. That's great. Although, I can barely see them from this high up.

The squeeze is getting pretty intense now, I must be getting close-ish. Any second now, my carapace will collapse and I'm going to get squished. If I had some gravity mana to work with..

Wait a sec

I do have gravity mana? And tons of it?!

YOU IDIOT, ANTHONY!

My gravity mana gland! I reforged it into Resonant Well Stone! It turns gravitational energy into mana, and there's a freaking heck of a lot of gravitational energy around me right now!

Ohpleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

Brains! Work!

I flush my system full of regeneration fluid in the vague hope it will help my brains, but even if it doesn't, I need them to push.

Summoning all my myriad minds, I empty the gravitational mana gland and weave the fastest, roughest, ugliest gravity well I can possibly imagine, then fire the spell out, desperately hoping it works at all!

And miracle of miracle, I freeze in place.

Oh so carefully, I roll over and look up.

The centre of the gravity bomb is still almost a kilometre away maybe it's hard to tell, but much closer and I would have been torn apart for sure. Yikes.

I roll back over and look down.

That's a long way to drop.

Then the black sun flickers and disappears. And so does my gravity well.

Honestly. I'm fine with it.

-x-X-x-

The boat fell back to the water with a bone-shuddering crash. Thankfully, the Abyssal Legion built their ships to withstand attacks from the powerful monsters who dwelt in the deep waters of the fourth. Commander Chyron estimated the vessel had been almost ten metres in the air before it fell.

Her legs shuddered and her knees creaked as they absorbed the force of her landing. Regardless, she remained upright and turned with a shout.

"Status report! Someone check for damage to the hull or leaks!"

Someone shouted out a quick reply and raced for the steps that descended below deck as Chyron leapt back to the railing at the prow of the ship. Water fell from the sky as the surface of the Lake began to calm, the air becoming clear once again.

The rock was gone, as was that dark void which had consumed it. The giant ant, so close to being consumed by its own spell, was a tiny speck at this range, and in free fall.

"Scorpions, take aim! Shoot that monster out of the sky!" she roared.

Hopefully someone in the fleet was able to get a clear shot. Hopefully the artillery she'd had fastened to the decks hadn't shattered in the chaos.

Footsteps pounded on the deck, approaching quickly, and the Commander didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"The crew reports no leaks or major damage, though there is minor cracking on some of the interior plates on the second deck, port side," Morrelia reported, snapping out a salute.

"Tribune, what in the name of the Iron Fortress did I just witness?"

Her Tribune hesitated for a moment and Chyron turned to glare at her.

"What's the matter, Tribune, ant got your tongue? Explain!"

Morrelia's gaze hardened under the withering stare of her commanding officer, and Chyron could see elements of her mother and father poking through. Trying to command those two was like trying to command the Dungeon itself, simply impossible.

At least Titus had mellowed as he'd aged.

"I'm not sure that I can, Commander. I've never seen anything like that before. I don't think anyone has."

"You were brought into this command because you had prior knowledge of the ants and this monster in particular. Are you really telling me you never saw anything like this?"

Morrelia scowled and cursed Anthony in her head. That damned idiot had nearly gotten himself and everyone else in the area killed! The spell he'd cast was more of a threat to his family than what the golgari had done!

"I have seen a spell with some resemblance to this one, but so much smaller in scale, I can't even be sure it's the same thing. It's possible that this is simply the same magic, but scaled up; however, I have no clue how such a thing would be possible, or how a tier seven monster could produce such an absurd level of power."

"We've known for some time that this monster is able to manipulate a strange class of mana that even our best mages can't identify. Is this an application of that?"

Again, Morrelia cursed Anthony. She had no idea what went through his mind! Not even the other ants had any idea what was going on in that head of his! How his unique abilities worked was a mystery to everyone; he'd never explained himself, and didn't really have any reason to.

"It's possible. It seems to have similar traits, changing the direction things fall, turning up into down and down into up."

Long ago, she'd nearly been pulled into a sphere like that, and Anthony along with her, but the power of what she'd just seen was on a completely different level. Clearly, his ability to manipulate this strange mana had grown. During the sparring sessions amongst the Folk, he'd demonstrated the capacity to press soldiers down into the ground with an invisible, overbearing force, or even lift them into the air without touching them.

"Ready to fire, Commander!" came the call, echoed shortly after from several of the artillery crews.

"Fire at will!" she bellowed.

Morrelia stepped up to join the Commander at the railing, gazing at the ant plummeting in the distance with complicated emotions in her heart.

"They won't hurt him at this range," she murmured to herself.

Was she making an observation, or giving voice to her hopes? She genuinely couldn't tell.

"I'm inclined to agree. I have no idea what that shell is made of"

Morrelia winced.

"Carapace, Commander."

"Fine carapace. I have no idea what it's made of, but it seems to be extremely tough. While he's up there and unable to defend himself, though, I'd be derelict in my duty if I didn't try."

The Scorpion ballistae were powerful engines of war, capable of firing magic infused bolts for many kilometres, and their operators were experienced, highly trained shots. Even at this range, they were more likely to hit than not.

The ropes snapped forwards with a deep thrum, sending their deadly missiles blasting through the air like streaks of light.

Chyron watched with interest as the first shot arced toward the target. With her keen eyesight and observational Skills, she could see quite clearly the moment of first impact.

The ant didn't do anything, simply allowed the bolt to strike. The force of the impact spun the giant monster in the air, but when she looked again, the big bug didn't appear to take any damage. In fact it seemed to be executing a luxurious stretch and clacking its mandibles mockingly.

"Mage teams can engage in artillery magic," Chyron snapped.

"Is that wise?" Morrelia asked cautiously. "There's a risk we will damage the brathian ships."

"The risk is acceptable. Pass along the order, Tribune."

In short order, a continuous volley of scorpion bolts and huge balls of fire and stone arced through the air towards the target.

The ant continued to allow them to hit it, pretending to fall asleep, or waggling its rear body segment in the direction of the Legion fleet.

Chyron huffed with dissatisfaction. She didn't think it would work at this range, but was still disappointed to be proven right. To punch through that defence, they'd need significantly more force, or to get much closer.

As the ant neared the end of its fall, she ordered her teams to stop firing. There was no point irritating the brathians for no benefit.

"Let's get below decks," she said. "We'll need to take a full inventory and perform a full headcount. If one of my soldiers has a stubbed toe, I want to know about it."

Morrelia resisted the urge to groan out loud.

"Yes, Commander," she said.

-x-X-x-

When the noise finally died down, Isaac pulled his hands from over his ears and slowly, very slowly, opened his eyes.

The first thing he felt was relief that the roof hadn't collapsed on top of him. A good start. Next came the relief that his legs hadn't fallen off or been crushed, they were simply numb from the incessant shaking of the floor.

Wins all around. Isaac was beginning to hold out hope that his moustache hadn't fallen straight off his face from the stress, but he deliberately didn't reach up to check. He wasn't ready to find out his suspicions were correct after all.

Soundly convinced that he was (sans moustache) in one, sound piece, he began to turn his attention to everyone else.

"Hello! Ant cavalry, sound off!"

He got a few muffled calls, some groans and a few swear words for his efforts. The air was thick with dust and he could barely see ten metres in front of himself.

There must have been a collapse somewhere in the chamber to kick up all this mess; he could only hope nobody not covered in a second skin of minerals had been caught underneath. Confident he wouldn't get much more out of his human squad mates, he turned to pheromones and called out again.

"Ant cavalry? Who can smell this?"

"How are you, Captain Isaac?"

"Doing well over here!"

"That was something interesting, wasn't it?"

"Finished napping, then? Ready to get to work?"

"Anyone else want some biscuits and tea when we get back to the ship?"

"Stop slacking, Captain!"

Slacking? What in the name of his mam's buttered scones were they on about? He made his way toward them and found the ants had already collected their less active riders and deposited them in a line of sorry-looking sods. Covered in dust and clearly shaken, they shivered, moaned and stared blankly straight ahead, ignoring everything happening around them.

Isaac had seen it before, many times. Shock. They were rattled by what had just happened. And why wouldn't they be? The mountain had been rattled, so it was only fair the mortals were too.

One by one, he moved down the line, calling names softly, placing a hand on their faces, shaking hands. Most were able to acknowledge him, some were able to get up and assist with a little encouragement.

"Can we get a mage to clear this dust?" he asked one of the ants. "It's as thick as me mam's porridge, even if it tastes better. I can't see a thing."

"Oh, I think so. Most of them are clearing out the rock, but I'm sure someone can spare a little mana."

The ant scuttled off while Isaac wondered just what she'd meant when she said they were 'clearing out the rock'. A minute later, he no longer had to wonder.

In one fell swoop, the dust was blown away, revealing the true extent of the devastation. Luckily, the area occupied by the trade mission was undamaged. The brathian merchants were there, along with Eran and her family. The ants were also safe, though most of them had relocated to where the problem lay.

The roof had collapsed, on the side of the room which led to the exit. Ants were crawling all over the rubble now, doing their best to clear a pathway. Isaac saw immediately what the problem was. With so few ants allowed inside, most of those who had entered were carvers who specialised in making things, and the soldiers who were part of the cavalry. Precious few mages had entered, so a lot of the work was being done manually.

With a sigh, Isaac headed over to see what he could do to help.

The ants met his offer with clear scepticism.

"You could use your hands to shift some rock I suppose?" one offered, doubtfully.

"Can you even move rock with those? They aren't anything like mandibles."

"Yes, I can move rock," he snapped, reaching down to pick up a chunk of stone.

Naturally, he picked up one a bit larger than he probably should have, and instantly regretted it. However, he couldn't put it down now, so he grit his teeth and began lumbering away with it.

"See?" he squeezed out. "Don't underestimate the power of the opposable digit!"

"We have those too," one of the carvers said smugly, holding up one of her front legs and snipping her little claws together.

He'd known that, but it wasn't really something he kept in the forefront of his mind. The ants win this round.

"Anyone know what happened?" he asked.

"The Eldest," a chorus of them replied, seemingly unbothered.

They were most likely correct, Isaac had been around Anthony long enough to know that, but he'd hoped for something more specific.

"Any idea what the Eldest did?" he pressed. "I'd love to have a little more knowledge about why this mountain decided to shake itself down."

"Someone probably annoyed them," one of the ants responded.

"They probably did something to protect the Colony and nearly died in the process."

"So brave."

"I wish it was me."

"Shhhhh!"

Isaac could only shrug his shoulders in resignation. No matter what Anthony did, they trusted it was the right thing to have done. A little healthy scepticism wouldn't be such a bad thing for these ants, in his view.

The excavation effort was interrupted shortly thereafter by a roar that echoed off the chamber walls, as a massive golgari strode back through the entrance.

"Eran Thouris! You have some explaining to do!"

It was the silver-coated warrior who had welcomed them, and he was steaming mad. However, his anger paled in comparison to that of Eran Thouris. She was incandescent with rage.

"I have some explaining to do? I?! The entire Noble circle of this mountain needs to come down here and explain why there shouldn't be an immediate trade embargo placed on this damned city!"

"How dare you?!"

"WATCH YOUR TONE!"

Well, this was off to a good start.

-x-X-x-

Isaac's mam had some lungs on her, even towards the end. The neighbours were almost as familiar with her voice as he was, since it sounded like she was yelling from within their own houses.

However, he had to give Eran Thouris some credit, she might have his dear departed mother beaten.

"WE CAME IN GOOD FAITH, UNDER TREATY!" she bellowed.

She bellowed so loudly, the golgari warrior actually flinched. She had lungs on her like an ant-built industrial smelter. If she got any louder, the whole place was going to come down on their heads, since it wasn't exactly structurally stable at the moment.

The golgari tried to get a word in edgeways, but she wasn't having it.

"THIS BASE TREACHERY IS AN INSULT TO THE ENTIRE BRATHIAN TRADE ALLIANCE!"

"We have committed no treachery!" the warrior spluttered. "It is you who have brought devastation and destruction to our home!"

"YOU THINK I HAVEN'T BEEN IN COMMUNICATION WITH MY PEOPLE OUTSIDE? HOW DARE YOU DENY INVOLVEMENT AFTER ATTEMPTING TO DROP A MOUNTAIN ON MY FLEET?!"

"That was simply a natural fracturing of the rock!"

Isaac almost winced for the man. It sounded weak, even to his ears. True to form, the Eran pounced, glaring at her opponent like a snake would a shivering rodent. She even lowered her volume, which was a blessing to all with ears nearby. The ants hadn't been bothered one bit.

"If you seriously think anyone is going to believe that, then your head is full of rocks, not just covered in them!"

"We will not be held responsible for the mistakes and poor skills of a few lowly Shapers."

"Your Shapers are the finest earth and stone mages on the entire damned planet! Whoever decided this was a good idea, and whoever thought you could escape the consequences with such a pathetic excuse, needs to have their brains bashed out with a bat! At least that way, the brain matter could be fed to a dog, and provide something useful!"

"After all the destruction caused by the monster you brought, you then think we will stand for these insults? We demand compensation from the Brathian Island Conglomerate for the damage!"

Eran had let him build up a head of steam, and Isaac had expected her to cut off the warrior at the knees, but with the demand for compensation, all the anger seemed to evaporate out of her in an instant. She went ice cold, her eyes as hard as diamonds, even her scales seem to tighten around her. The golgari felt it, how could they not? Every brathian had the same response to his demand for payment, every one of them becoming an icy pillar of cold fury.

Eran Thouris drew herself up to her full height, almost half that of the imposing warrior before her, but she didn't appear small in the slightest.

"You will hear from our lawyers."

She dropped those words as if dropping an artillery grade fireball, then turned on her heel and began to stride out. Not knowing what to do, Isaac ordered his people to follow in her wake, since all the brathians were already doing so.

"Are we just going to leave the goods behind?" he whispered to Eran when he caught up with her.

"Much of it is wrecked, and I don't want us to carry anything that has been polluted by the stupidity that seems to infest this place," she replied, her lip curled in disgust.

"Who gave you permission to leave?" the warrior yelled, visibly fuming.

"I will not be detained by the likes of you," Eran spat back over her shoulder. "Either have the noble triad which ordered this idiocy show me their faces, or let me leave. I will take my fleet to our next destination and trouble your people no longer."

Isaac hoped she never found out who those people were, given the look in her eye. If she did, he imagined they would be living in a wooden box before long, everything they touched turned against them by the might of the brathian trade empire.

"Told you the Eldest would take care of it," his partner, Cavalant, told him cheerfully.

"The Eldest almost got us all killed," he pointed out, knowing it was pointless to bother, but somehow unable to help himself.

"That's weird. I'm not dead. Are you dead, Isaac?"

"... No."

"So nobody is dead, and the fleet has been saved. Seems like my point of view is gaining strength over yours, wouldn't you say?"

He couldn't help himself, he had to keep going.

"Have you ever spoken to the Eldest, Cavalant?"

"Me? Of course not! I wouldn't trouble them."

"I have."

"Don't rub it in."

"And I find it hard to detect this deep wisdom you seem to imbue them with."

"Well that's unsurprising," Cavalant laughed.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you need to possess deep wisdom, in order to find it in others? You couldn't find your own left hand if I didn't point it out to you."

He tried. He honestly couldn't say why, but he did try.

Only when they reached the edge of the mountain and began to descend on platforms of air did Isaac finally get a sense for the true scale of what that mad ant had done.

The tunnel that had led down to the dock had been sheared away, and so had huge chunks of the mountain face. As if a giant had reached out a hand and scooped away billions of tons of stone, the mountain was just broken.

Cracks and fissures big enough to fit his home village inside ran all along the face of it. Now wonder it had felt like the entire thing was falling apart. For the first time, he felt a chill when considering the power of that single ant.

Anthony had managed to do this? It was absurd, it was madness, it was too much. Too much power. And he would only get stronger from here.

That was a good thing, he comforted himself, the Colony would be safer, which meant he, Isaac, and all of his friends and comrades would be safer too, under the umbrella of such a creature.

Yet, he couldn't help but admit to himself, he was beginning to see why the Legion feared what he would become if given the chance.

With troubled thoughts filling his head, he floated down toward the fleet.

-x-X-x-

Landing in the water wasn't my most graceful landing, I'm going to own up to that straight away. I'd love to tell you that I masterfully manipulated the sparkling waters of the Lake using my mana, gliding to my ship upon a wave shaped like a herd of horses.

Instead, I plummeted down and smacked face first into the waves. It felt like I ran straight into a rock wall. Unpleasant to say the least.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Not even remotely.

I was pretty much directly underneath the gravity bomb when it terminated. Great stuff, still very pleased that I wasn't consumed whole by the void of death. Great stuff.

However, other things were consumed by the void of death. A lot of things. Well, mostly rock, but lots of it. Lots and lots. And, as we all know, the gravity bomb does what a good black hole should, sucks things inside and crushes them into one nice little ball.

So what fell out of the sky right behind me? You betcha! An extremely hot, extremely dense ball of super rock. Not long after I hit the water, I sensed the damn thing coming and started to frantically paddle with my legs, not that it got me far, and a few seconds later.

Let's just say there was quite the splash.

When the waves settled, which took a while, the brathians were eventually able to fish me out and dump me back onto the ship, which is where I now find myself.

Basically, I'm just flopping on the deck, not moving, letting myself slowly recover from the excitement of the day. It's almost refreshing, in a weird way, to find myself this drained. It's been a while since I was genuinely tired, physically, mentally and emotionally. There are still ten thousand ants around, so it'll go away eventually, even if I don't sleep, but for now, I am straight up exhausted.

[A moment of weakness!]

Which is when Odin decides to pounce at me. Claw arms extended, he leaps through the air, heading straight for my most vulnerable point, my eye. I can't even move, I just watch him come, floating through air, almost in slow motion, blade arms extended, a twisted glee burning in his demon eyes.

Actually it's it's taking a long time for him to get me. Is he actually using some slow motion ability?

He's still floating toward me.

I scratch my back with my antennae, then reach one out to poke him. He's still moving forward just really slowly. Oh, I know what's going on.

"I assume this is one of you, Protectant? Wrapped him up in air or something?"

"That's right," she says, popping into existence next to me. She glares up at the demon, who seems to have only now realised something is wrong and begun wriggling in the air. "I knew this one was up to something."

"Ah, he's harmless, and I think Sarah has taken a liking to him."

I may be wrong on that front, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't a serious attempt on me. I mean it's ridiculous. He's so tiny!

"I think you should take threats to your safety a little more seriously, Eldest! Especially in the light of recent events!"

Whoa. That's a lot more passion than I normally see from the reserved little ant. Well, technically speaking, I almost never see her, but I still get Will from them flowing into the Vestibule. Clearly, she's a bit mad about the whole 'almost getting eaten by my own spell' thing. Which is fair.

"For sure, I am going to be way more careful about throwing out that particular spell in future. To be fair, though, I've not fired it off at full strength before, so I didn't know how bad it was going to be."

I try to defend myself a little. I was reckless, sure, but not that reckless. Protectant doesn't seem convinced.

"You've come closer to death from that spell than anything else, multiple times, since we joined you. Almost every time you use it at anything remotely close to full power, you are nearly dragged in. Might I suggest, Eldest, that you not use it in situations when you are going to nearly destroy yourself?"

"That seems reasonable. I will definitely, maybe, think about not doing that."

"You're going to keep doing it, aren't you."

"Not on purpose! This was an emergency situation! It's not like I'm trying to get myself flattened."

I look up at Odin. He's now floated over my head and is in real danger of going over the edge of the ship.

"Are you guys going to stop floating him at some point? How are you even doing that?"

"It's a method we were working on to float you away from dangerous situations. It's quite complicated, are you sure you want the details?"

Probably not.

"You abandoned the method because I got too heavy?"

"Yes we we abandoned the idea for sure."

"Good. Now put the silly demon down."

It takes another hour for Eran, the ants and Isaac to get back aboard the fleet. I'm not sure exactly what went down inside, but Eran is still fuming when she gets aboard, visibly steaming.

When I try to ask her about it, she throws up her hands and storms off, growling something about lawyers. I didn't even know they had lawyers on this planet. And people are scared of monsters? Weird.

[What's the plan, Marzban? After all this excitement, I assume we aren't going to stick around?]

[No. It's time to sail away.]

[Sail away?]

[Sail away,] he confirms. [We've got one major and one minor stop to go.]

[Which one's the big one?]

[Silver City,] he tells me. [I hope to goodness they aren't as dumb as the golgari. They shouldn't be.]

I'm not filled with confidence.

Time to sail the heck out of here.

-x-X-x-

The next stop on our trade mission is the Wandering Isle, one of the largest of the floating islands within the fourth stratum. Supposedly, a mix of people live there, but predominantly it is home to a rare race that I've not yet run into. Nor have any of the Colony, as far as I'm aware.

It's always nice to meet new folks! Not Folk, folks.

However, Eran is quick to throw a dampener on my burgeoning curiosity.

[Don't get your expectations up,] she warns me.

The leader of our expedition is clearly feeling the weight of her responsibilities right now. What transpired with the golgari at Greyhome is an unmitigated diplomatic disaster for everyone involved, from what I can gather, listening in on mental communications I probably shouldn't.

The Brathian Island Conglomerate is absolutely incensed, the Satrap is spitting fish-chips and that outrage is spreading to the other conglomerates as well. I don't have perfect information, given that I can't understand any of the spoken conversations and much of the mental ones slip past me, but both sides have brought out the big guns.

Legal experts and top negotiators are galloping into battle, ready to yell, scream, argue and generally word-fight over who owes who, who broke their legal obligations and by how much. Given that the brathians are who they are, I have no doubt the Empire of Stone will be forking over a rather sizeable amount of compensation.

[Marzban said the same thing,] I note. [Are these people really so problematic? What's their deal, anyway?]

This is one of the rare opportunities that Eran has allowed her daughter up onto the deck with us. The young girl appears to be twelvish, or something like that, judging by her relative height compared to the other brathians on board, but it's getting harder and harder for me to make these judgements now. One glance and I can tell you what tier an ant is, no matter the caste, but these humanoids? Nope. Not anymore.

Piris, the little girl, is only too happy to be roped into our conversation, a chance to get close to the big monster and poke at my carapace.

[Piris, darling. Can you come over here and explain to Anthony what the Magpei are like?]

As soon as the word leaves her mother's mind and drops into hers, the little girl pulls a face. I may not have muscles on the outside anymore, but I remember that expression.

[They're noisy,] she says, [and rude. They make fun of everyone who doesn't have wings and they love picking fights.]

[They have wings?]

Piris rolls her eyes.

[They'll never let you forget about it. It's what they're most proud of.]

[So these are some sort of winged humanoid? Are they a branch of the Folk?]

Eran cuts back in to give me the details.

[No, the Magpei are an Old Race, one of the originals along with humans, golgari and ka'armodo. There just aren't that many of them for a variety of reasons.]

[Dad says they never stop biting off more than they can chew, so they keep choking to death,] Piris tells me, nodding sagely as she dispenses the wisdom of her wealthy father.

She puffs up, placing her hands on an imaginary belly and lowering her voice to imitate the Satrap.

[You'd think they'd learn after watching someone else do it, but it only makes them worse. No profit in such foolishness, no profit at all.]

[But what do they look like? Beaks? Fully feathered? Partially feathered? Ooooo, no feathers and bat wings? Are they like fruit bats? No! Vampire bats! They drink the blood of their enemies and use echolocation to navigate.]

Eran just shakes her head.

[You'll see soon enough.]

In the end, it takes a few days of extremely fast sailing, with our friendly neighbourhood Legionaries in tow, for us to meet up with the Wandering Isle. Far overhead, we see it coming from a long way away. As advertised, the island is big, much bigger than something floating in the air should probably be.

How the heck these things get away with defying gravity to the extent they do, I have no idea, but apparently it's a thing that is rather common on this level of the Dungeon. As we've sailed around, I've seen dozens of them. Some monster-infested, some not, almost all of them streaming an endless supply of water running off their edge.

Apparently, the Wandering Isle has several rivers running off the edge, creating a dazzling spray underneath that trails in its wake. Now, of course, the ships can't fly up to the island, so we are going to have to exit our vessels and rise up on force platforms, along with the goods we seek to trade.

It takes a while to get it all sorted, but naturally I'm picked to go on one of the first platforms, along with the brathian leadership. As always, a view of the fourth from any level of elevation is simply breathtaking, filled with light and colour. I take my time enjoying the view as I sprawl on the platform, hoping the mages are able to manage my bulk without burning out.

[Ah, here they come,] Eran sighs to me.

[What? Who?]

[The Magpei.]

[Some sort of welcoming committee?]

[No well sort of? They always do this. Can't seem to help themselves.]

Focusing upward, I can see what she's talking about. Figures have launched themselves from the edge of the island and spread broad, magnificent wings, catching the air and gliding down toward us in lazy circles.

When they get close enough, I get my first glimpse of these ancient and proud people.

Now, as I stated earlier, judging any aspect of the small and fleshy people around me has become increasingly difficult as time goes on. This goes doubly so when speaking for the aesthetics of said small and squishy things.

However, the Magpei, appear to be quite stunning. Humanlike, yet not quite, they are sleek, graceful, almost angelic. Radiant, golden skin, large, expressive eyes, with long limbs and flawless musculature, all capped off by the magnificent wings that sprout from their backs.

Given that they don't have a carapace, they appear to have done alright for themselves, these Magpei. Then they draw a little closer, and open their mouths. Now, normally it wouldn't matter what they said, since I wouldn't understand it anyway, but some thoughtful individual decides to pass it all on to me via mind construct, so I experience the full feeling of the Magpei welcome.

It goes something like this:

[Eyyyy, EYYYY! Waddaya think YOU'RE doin 'ere?!]

[Floatin' up to our island, ey? No WINGS, ey? Flamin' ground bound chumps, EY?]

[Whattarya lookin' at, MATE? Think you're all special, lookin' in every direction at once, you insect-y BUG thing? Come up 'ere and I'll show you who's special, MATE!]

[You drongos think you're gonna be welcome up on OUR island? You better think again! Ey? EYYYYYYY?!]

They're just just so annoying.