Chapter 2923 - Chry 130

"What in the name of The Queen are they doing now?" Tungstant demanded.

Cobalt turned to look behind her. The edge of the safe-zone had drawn close, much closer than either of them had expected it to be, and that meant there were thousands of ants in position up and down the width of the tunnel to defend it.

Not only were they defending it, there was all sorts of activity—loud, distracting activity. Monsters roared, squelched and gurgled over and over again as the ants utilised strange, enchanted equipment to do… something.

"Should we tell them to try and be quiet?" Cobalt asked.

"Working on a modular fortress is tricky work," Tungstant grumbled before looking up, "but I suppose they have their own difficulties."

Right now, they were tussling with a giant, mould covered turtle-looking thing. The monster snapped and gurgled at the ants as they laboured to bring it down without leaving the safety of the blue mana.

Both carvers turned their minds back to the build plans in front of them and tried their best to keep the distraction from affecting their work. Normally, they wouldn't have an issue, but the construction plan for what Solant had demanded they design and build was so inordinately complicated.

Not because the final structure was necessarily beyond anything that they had seen before, but because of the way it was designed. Solant had insisted that the entire thing be built as modular as possible, so that the build teams could work on almost any section, without necessarily having the components around it being completed.

There were limits, of course. Building walls and heavy sections couldn't be done without weight-bearing support completed. In spite of that, the fifth stratum fortress that they were attempting to build was proceeding, but in a completely piecemeal fashion. Tracking exactly what had been done and when was a nightmare, and attempting to build without knowing what the neighbouring teams were doing made logistics extremely difficult.

In short, it was stressing them out, and all the builders working in the fifth were growing increasingly irritated.

"Have the materials we needed been delivered?" Cobalt asked one of the nearby carvers.

"They have. Somehow," came the reply.

Caught halfway into a complaint, Cobalt had to shut off her pheromones and grind her mandibles instead. If she could give credit for something, it was that Solant and her logistic organisation were working flawlessly. Nothing had been delivered to the wrong build site, no supplies had gone missing, and everything arrived relatively on time. It was, in Cobalt and Tungstant's eyes, an ongoing miracle.

Solant had assured them it would work, but they just hadn't been able to bring themselves to fully believe it. Now that everything was functioning as intended, they still couldn't believe it was working as well as it was.

"Alright then, let's get going. Tungstant, I'll handle the interior if you want to work on the exterior?"

"Smells good."

The two split up and divided their teams into halves. Everything being worked on right now was part of the interior of the fortress, the innermost chambers, but far from being flimsy, or even sturdy, every section of this fortress was reinforced and fortified to an absurd degree.

To make things even more complicated, the layout was… difficult. It was layered, like an egg within an egg within an egg. Everything was designed with the flow of energy in mind. Mana had to be able to permeate outward, but limited when moving inward.

The massive pipe networks were also highly, highly complex, enormous in scale and delicate in construction. They were the most important element of the entire design, and they were being built in sections totally disconnected from each other, with the expectation it would all slot together in the end.

It wouldn't, of course. Tungstant and Cobalt were both experienced enough to know that there was no possible way everything would slot together as designed, but solving these problems on the fly was exactly why they, the two most experienced engineers in the entire Colony, were here in person.

"Be careful with that section, it has to be totally level. Check the design plans for the right specifications!"

The foundations for the pipelines were key to the entire design. Everything had been worked out in advance, down to the exact angles, and the lengths down to the millimetre. If the surfaces weren't prepared absolutely perfectly, then everything that needed to be layered on top simply wouldn't line up.

"Make sure you grade the hardness of the rock. If it doesn't meet specifications, do not continue until it does. We take as long as we need to get the fundamentals right. Do we have the reinforcing beams ready?" Tungstant asked.

"We do."

"Great. Let's aim to get that in before the hour is up. We're still ahead of schedule, so take your time."

"Can you come take a look at this, team leader?" one of the workers asked.

Tungstant scuttled over and leaned down, using her antennae and other, more esoteric senses to examine the stone in front of her. With her forelegs, she grasped hold of the enchanted measuring instruments every team carried with them and began to take careful measurements.

"Still one third of a degree shy of the level we want, but the density is spot on. Well done."

The carvers pored over every inch of the build site, moulding the rock, sinking the reinforcing frame in underneath and testing, testing, testing to ensure it was as perfect as they could make it. When the base was done, they began to install the complex pipework over the top, an even more exacting task than what had gone before. When it was all done, they would be capable of moving vast amounts of mana from the outside of the fortress to the inside, ready for the wuffers to purify.

These were the lifelines of the ants within the fifth stratum, and they would be perfect.

-x-X-x-

Purifying the mana of the fifth was not an idea that hadn't been tried before. In fact, there had been dozens of attempts, throughout the millennia. In fact, historical records indicated that the Folk had made an attempt using specifically designed pets to handle the process, but were eventually driven out by the Krath.

So why did the ants believe they were going to be successful where others had failed?

First, they were able to bring a level of labour and resources to the project that other empires or nations would struggle to match. Even for the Folk, invading the fifth required an enormous amount of wealth, and the constant drain of cores used to fuel their pets became too punishing to continue. The Colony did not, so to speak, use money. As long as they were bringing resources in, they were willing to expend them in the fifth. The number of cores they were willing to spend would be absurd to any other civilisation.

Second, they had developed a rich and thorough community, an entire caste, devoted to the research and rearing of pets on a grand scale. Despite their youth, the Colony had progressed with incredible speed in this field, and were confident in their core engineering. The eventual result, the 'wuffer' class of monster, was wholly unique and extremely well designed.

- Excerpt from 'The Invasion' by Alberton.

Bella and Ellie were busy. Extremely busy. It was a good feeling, they liked being busy, feeling as though they were contributing; they were ants, after all.

Before them, a pile of wuffers sat on their platform, joyfully wibbling and wobbling as the foul energy of the fifth was piped directly beneath them and filtered up through small gaps before being absorbed by the jelly-like creatures above.

Except, mana wasn't the only thing being absorbed by the wuffers at the moment.

Ellie extended her antennae to tap one of the wuffers and read its core. A library of information smashed into her mind, but she was extremely practised at this, sorting through the deluge with ease to find what she was looking for.

"This one has reached max level," she announced. "Quick, rotate it out to the top of the pile."

The controller of this particular wuffer hurriedly stepped forward and ordered her pet to move aside, which it did. They didn't move very fast, the wuffers, jiggling their way forward with an ungainly backwards and forwards motion.

"Wufwufwuf!" it wibbled happily, and the ant controller gave her pet a generous tickling with her antennae before encouraging the monster to rejoin the pile, but at the top. Another in need of levels took its place and soon they were back to operating at full efficiency again.

"Are there any close to reaching the sixth tier?" Bella asked.

"Not in this node," Ellie shook her antennae. "How many more do we need?"

"At least two, but it would be safer with three," came the reply.

"Safer, or better?"

"Is there much of a difference?"

"Not really."

The two turned back to look at the platform covered in adorable, wibbling blue jelly-monsters. The wuffers were performing up to expectations so far, but they had discovered something worrying recently which was forcing them to accelerate their plans.

"When was the last time these were checked for stress?" she asked one of the nearby core-shapers.

"Just a few hours ago," came the reply.

"Make sure you check every three hours," Ellie warned. "The cases we've found accelerate quickly. It's best to be on it as early as possible."

The core shaper nodded her antennae and turned back towards her charges with renewed focus as Bella shook her head.

"Damn fifth," she complained, "is there anything it won't contaminate?"

"It can even break down mana," Ellie said, "we shouldn't be surprised that even our wuffers aren't immune."

As indeed they weren't. It was necessary for the wuffers to be exposed to the mana of the fifth, indeed, that was their entire purpose, but nothing, it seemed, was immune from becoming degraded by exposure to that poison, not even the wuffers.

If caught early enough, they were able to solve the issue, but some wuffers had already needed to be taken off rotation in order for longer term healing to take place.

It was inevitable that more wuffers would fall prey to the toxicity, slipping through the cracks, no matter how vigilant the core shapers were of their charges. That meant a more permanent resolution had to be found, and they already knew what it was.

They would attempt something none in the Colony had ever attempted before: a fused evolution.

Of course, they had planned for it, chosen this path amongst many for the progress of the wuffers. The wuffers were specifically designed to undergo this process, but even so, nerves were high between Bella and Ellie as the moment of truth drew closer.

"Do you think we'll really be able to do it?" Bella asked.

"Of course!" Ellie retorted, trying to give herself confidence. "Our planning was meticulous!"

"But we haven't tested it…."

"We couldn't test it! Not without pushing the timeline of the invasion back until after the wave!"

"How many are we aiming to combine?"

"Five."

What they planned wasn't an evolution, per se, but a fusion of living monsters. Normally something that wasn't possible, but with certain types of monsters, it could happen. By combining five tier-six wuffers, they wouldn't create a tier seven, but something like a tier six and a half. Some of the energy contained in the cores would go to waste, which was a shame, but reaching a tier seven wuffer was unrealistic, particularly in the short term.

This was why new wuffers were still being raised as fast as possible in the fourth. They wouldn't be able to maintain the invasion if this fusion turned out to be a waste.

But if it didn't…

The first of the great wuffer queens would rise.

-x-X-x-

Crinis and I hold down the tunnel, with some difficulty, I'll admit. For my part, I cast an empowered gravity well and use it to press down everything in front of me. Any monster who attempts to make a charge toward this position ends up slamming face first into the ground as the incredible suppressive power of gravity flattens them. From there, it's a simple thing for Crinis to finish them off, or we just leave them. I mean, what are they going to do?

However, creating a well large enough to cover the entire width of the tunnel, and also strong enough to be effective, would take an absurd amount of mana and Altar… juice. Also, I'd have to recast it constantly as the energy of the well would burn out pretty darn quick. So, I just cover the main section in the middle, which catches about ninety percent of all monsters, since they run straight at me most of the time, and I leave the sides to Crinis, who can cover them using her shadow portal shenanigans.

And so we wile away the time. I don't even bother moving, I just plop myself down and watch as the fifth gradually pushes in against the blue mana and flatten the monsters when they come.

[I have a question, Master,] Crinis says after a while.

[Shoot.]

[What does that mean?]

[Ask your question.]

[Oh. I was wondering how much you were suffering from the Call since we came here.]

Ah, I hadn't actually thought about it for a while, which must mean it's doing well. Idly, I try focusing on that special location, right in the guts of the soul, where I feel that cursed hook has been lodged. Surprisingly, it still hurts like heck! Isn't it amazing what a person can get used to?

Then again, I had a fair bit of ongoing pain when I was a human, so I guess I'm fairly used to it?

Actually… is it possible that I experienced quite a bit more pain than most people when I was a human? I mean, life seems to be harder here on Pangera than it was on Earth, objectively speaking. There's monsters, and a Dungeon, and Ancients and all that! Yet, there's people who've never had their bones broken by someone collecting on their parents' loans.

How does that make sense?

Eh, I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who've had their legs healed with magic. They probably wouldn't even remember the incident, their legs were busted for what, a few minutes? Hah. I wish.

The Call is still yanking away, as it does, but it's nothing like it was above. The pain has reduced to the point where I don't even really notice it. However, it will grow stronger over time, and I'll be right back in the plops unless I keep going deeper.

[It's fine,] I tell Crinis without going into too much detail. No reason to tell her that I am actually hurting, she'll just get bent out of shape.

Not that she really has a shape….

[That's good to hear, Master. At least something good came out of coming to this awful place.]

[You aren't wrong. The fifth is pretty terrible, isn't it? I'm not sure it has much in the way of redeeming features.]

[It's disgusting!] she declares, wiggling her tentacles to emphasise the depth of her emotions on this matter. [The monsters are just… dreadful! I've looked into their thoughts.]

[Oh? Bad?]

[Worse than their appearance, Master.]

Ouch. That's… that's next level. If their thoughts are more disgusting than the way they look… what the heck are they thinking about?!

No, don't consider it, Anthony, that way lies only darkness.

Oho, this is interesting, and a perfect diversion. A very sludgy-looking monster has gotten caught in my gravity well and immediately gotten compressed down to a puddle. But that doesn't seem to bother it all that much, and now that puddle is slowly yet resolutely squirming across the tunnel floor to reach me.

Honestly, I never thought of what I might do if I found a monster who couldn't be flattened by a gravity well. I suppose a gravity bomb would be enough to crush its core, but it'll prove to be expensive if I need to bomb every single one of these monsters I see.

Curious, I watch as the sludge slithers its way towards me, fighting against the immense downward pressure of the increased gravity. In an odd way, I find myself cheering for it.

You can do it, weird slime-thing! I believe in the burning, mindless hatred that lives inside you! Dig deep and embrace the rage!

It takes quite a while, but eventually the little goober manages to make its way across the area covered by the well until it's only a few dozen metres away. At that moment, it gathers itself together, compresses itself even further, then springs forwards suddenly!

VOID CHOMP!

[You have slain….]

I let the familiar refrain from Gandalf roll over me. Talk about a telegraphed attack. Regardless of how squishy and morphable the monster might be, apply enough force to shatter the core and it's over. Interestingly, this particular creature didn't even have any parasites living in it, which seems to be somewhat unique down here. Just about everything is infested with something else.

Just before I dismiss the encounter and start looking for something else to occupy me, I sense something in the distance. It isn't exactly a monster, and it isn't exactly mana.

What the heck is it?!

Before I can question too much, it's already rolling through the tunnel toward me like a shockwave. The slime trails shake like leaves, rocks crack, mould goes flying as this thing ripples through the air towards me.

[Crinis! Brace for impact!]

[What is it, Master?!]

[It's… something! Jump into my shadow, now!]

What now?

-x-X-x-

Sometimes it's nice to have so many brains. Also, it's occasionally useful when those brains are capable of thinking in many directions at once. As the scary wave comes racing towards me, my newly empowered ability to think divergently kicks into gear. In no time at all, I spin together a force shield and start to sink down into the rock, even as it raises up before my head to protect me.

Can I make myself blast-proof in a few seconds? Of course not, but I can absolutely make things a little bit more stable!

Only the lower few feet of my carapace are embedded into the stone when the blast hits. As much as I want to see it happen, my eyes are my weakest point, so I absolutely ensure they're buried in rock when it arrives.

With an audible THWUMP that hits deep and rattles all the way through my carapace, the wave washes over me and blasts back my antennae.

Wait… what the heck?

[Crinis, did you feel any of that?]

[I did, Master.]

[What do you think it was?]

[It felt like… air?]

[That's what I think as well.]

Feeling confused, I drop my shield and pull myself out of the rock, taking a good look around as I do so. Nothing has been destroyed as far as I can tell, but a lot of things have certainly been disturbed. It really does look like a singular, powerful blast of wind just came through. It was so dense and concentrated it looked like a literal shockwave.

Who or what is out there generating enormous blasts of air that go through hundreds of kilometres of enormous tunnels?! That makes no sense!

[Crinis,] I say, not for the first time, [I hate this place.]

[I can understand why, Master.]

The rules down here just don't seem to make any sense. What's going on?! What's the system? Vents are spitting out mana, from where? Why? How? Now this stupid air-blast rolling through the tunnel is making me ask those questions all over again!

Is it only going to happen once? Does it happen regularly?

If only we'd managed to capture a Krath and get them to talk. Well, we don't actually need them to talk, we can read information straight out of their minds if we get enough time….

Which is probably why they refuse to be captured.

I've little else to do but sit on the spot and wait for news, since I'm responsible for guarding this tunnel and can't exactly leave until a literal army comes to replace me. I don't have to wait long for news; only five minutes pass before a scout rushes up to me from deeper in the safe-zone.

"Hello, Eldest. Command wants to know if that wave came through this tunnel as well?"

"Sure did. Wait, so it hit everywhere?"

"Yes," the little scout confirms as she marks something down on her little pheromone tablet. "From both directions as well. This side of the safe-zone was hit all over, and so was the other side. Whatever it was, it rippled through every tunnel."

That's… crazy, what the heck is going on around here?

[Master, I sense something.]

Crinis emerges from my shadow. A dark mass of tentacles around a roughly spherical core, she slithers away from me before plunging some of her limbs into her own darkness. I can feel them emerge, out in the toxic mana almost a hundred metres away.

[The mana is thinning out there.]

[Oh, snap? Really?]

I can't tell yet, but Crinis has a much finer mana-sense than I do, since she literally uses it to see.

"Crinis says the mana level out there is starting to drop as well. You might want to report that to the headquarters."

"Really? That's great news."

Putting it mildly. If the vents are actually stopping, that's amazing news. Of course, I'd love to know why! Swear to goodness, I'm going to get Crinis to attack the next Krath I see and pluck a few secrets out of them. They have to know what's going on around here if they've lived here for this long.

"And can you ask them to send a battalion down here to replace me? If the mana level is shrinking, then I'll be back out there soon enough."

"I'll let them know. Good luck out there, Eldest."

The little scout gives me a quick salute before scurrying away, and I settle back in to watch the tunnel for a bit longer. I'm half expecting there to be a surge in monsters after the air-blast, but it doesn't eventuate, and they continue to trickle in at a steady pace.

Which gives me plenty of time to consider the slime and sludge-filled tunnel in front of me. After ruminating for a while, I begin to wonder if I'm just overthinking this whole mess.

The more time I spend down here, the more the fifth feels like a living, breathing creature. So, I start to consider the possibility. What if it is?

Maybe this whole tunnel complex is, in some way, alive? That would explain some things, maybe.

I suppose the only way we're going to find proof is if we get deep enough. Right now we're barely scratching the surface, and we won't be able to explore the depths for some time.

After all, the major crux of the current plan is to construct an impregnable fortress that we can hole up in through the next wave, a secure launching point for the next phase of the invasion. In Solant's mind, and I completely agree with her, there is no hope for the Colony down here without a completely impregnable safe-haven.

Once it's built, though, and once the next wave is over…

Look out, beastie, I'll be coming down there to get ya.

-x-X-x-

"We need more meat for the beasts," Jozish gurbled at Zluth, her tone flat and angry.

"Of course we need more meat for the beasts," Zluth snapped, "we need more meat for everyone! Our hunters are working as quickly as they can, but these are unfamiliar hunting grounds. These things take time."

The rage was bubbling up in him, but he controlled it with difficulty. It wouldn't do to start chomping on the members of his tribe. The previous Krath'lath had done enough of that and deprived the Slee of too many Krath. Some were incompetent, but others weren't, and now they were sorely missed.

Soon the eggs would hatch and a new generation of vicious Slee would be born. It would take time for them to grow, but the Krath would never have survived if they hadn't found ways to put the young to work. Zluth himself had tended to the mould fields, which had a much higher survival rate than the beast pits.

After all, the beasts need meat.

"Now, you will need to make do with the supply we have," Zluth hissed savagely, "or we will be forced to seek alternate methods to slake the creatures' hunger."

"There aren't enough beast keepers left for you to kill any of us and hope to replenish our stock," Jozish spat.

"I wasn't talking about you," Zluth whispered with glee. "You aren't wrong, the beast keepers are much too precious to risk. However… did you lay any eggs this season, Jozish?"

The female Krath's eyes bulged red with fury as her mouth gaped open, revealing her savage fangs. Zluth slid away from her, backing up and giving her the space she needed to control herself.

"I'm glad we understand each other," he said, once she had calmed down.

Jozish glared at him hatefully.

"The beasts will get their meat," he assured her, "but do not question my decisions again unless you are willing to pay the price."

And away she went, back to the pits, while Zluth turned to deal with the next emergency, only to find Goszi waiting. The old Krath looked disgruntled, as he always did at the moment. His planned cosy retirement had become anything but, as Zluth seemed determined to work him to the bone.

And the more unhappy he became, the more Zluth was determined to watch him. He'd shown how far he would go to survive, the cunning old slug, and Zluth was unwilling to give him the chance to do it again.

"What word, Goszi?" Zluth asked, turning both his eyes toward his partner in crime.

"The Suggoth have sent a messenger," the old slug slurgled. "They're waiting just outside the entrance to the Slimeground."

"Well, we can't keep our fellow Krath waiting," Zluth said. "We should go and meet them immediately."

"We?"

"Of course, we. Lead the way, Goszi, I'll be right behind you."

It was most amusing to see the old Krath turn without a word and head toward the entrance, uncomplaining. He'd known all along that Zluth would demand he come along. It would be interesting to see if he had any… surprises planned along the way.

The two made their way through the Slimeground, and then to the narrow, winding entrance. Compressing themselves down, they slid through the concealed entrance, emerging into the tunnel outside. The two Slee on duty were still there, concealed in the nearby mould and slime, but they were alone.

Zluth and Goszi both emerged, slow and careful. The eye stalks of the two guards twitched to acknowledge their presence, but never stopped scanning the surrounding tunnel. And with good reason.

A dozen metres away, a pack of six Krath huddled together, compressed and concealed between the folds in the rock. They were visibly uneasy at being so exposed, and Zluth didn't want to make them wait, not with the threat of invasion looming over them all.

Prodding Goszi to go first, Zluth crept forward before he extended himself a little to expose his mouth.

"Greetings, friends from the Suggoth tribe. I am Zluth, Krath'lath of the Slee."

"I am Puzith, Krath'lath of the Suggoth," one of the slugs replied. "We will not stay long. Your words of the invasion have been confirmed. Our tribal enmity will be put to one side, and you are given free rein over these tunnels to use as your hunting grounds. We have already sent messengers to the other nearby tribes, and there will likely be a gathering soon."

"Will I be expected to attend?"

"Of course. You're the most familiar with the invasion. We will send someone to give you the details of the gathering. Is there anything else?"

"Our tribe is in a difficult position," Zluth said. "After confronting the invasion, we lost most of our beasts, our Slimeground and many fine Krath. Would it be possible for the Suggoth to provide any assistance?"

There was silence for a long moment as each of the slugs absorbed this extremely unusual request. Assistance… from another tribe? That would be… unusual.

"What would you need?" Puzith said slowly.

"Meat, mainly. These tunnels are unfamiliar to our hunters, and we can't afford to lose any more Krath."

One didn't get to be the Krath'lath of a large tribe like the Suggoth without being decisive.

"We will deliver some meat in the next few days."

So saying, they were gone, the six sliding away into the tunnel and quickly hiding from view. After waiting a few beats, Goszi burbled a quiet laugh.

"You asked them for meat?" he chortled.

"And they agreed."

"I never thought I would see the day when the tribes helped each other."

"You probably never thought you'd see a mass invasion either."

"True."

"Well," Zluth mused as he began to make his way back into the Slimeground, "at least I have some good news for Jozish."

-x-X-x-

It was slow at first, but accelerated quickly. The vents, which had been spewing mana directly into the heart of the Colony's claimed territory and surrounds, reduced their output, and eventually stopped.

Solant was somewhat pleased.

"We return to the standard timetable immediately. I want alternative plans to handle vents within our marked borders drawn up within the hour. Juliant and Subutant, you're on that."

"How do you want them handled?" Juliant sought clarification.

"Containment. We won't destroy something we don't understand. Trying to do something drastic may well just blow up in our mandibles."

"Got it, general."

The two carvers scuttled away to work on designs and plans that could be incorporated into the grander scheme as Solant turned her attention to other matters. They'd been put behind schedule, and in a race against time, that wasn't something she was happy with. Work had continued, but the expansion and exploration which were such key planks in this scheme were dramatically behind. Currently, the blue mana only covered less than a third of the area required for the safe construction of the fortress.

"Leonidant and Washingtant. I want you to find the Eldest and get them back into the depths. We can't push deeper without their help, not even remotely as quickly, at least."

"What about the guardians?"

"If they are willing, they should return to their assigned posts."

The situation was so fluid and dynamic that perfect information was impossible to come across, but the Colony's network of runners and mages did their best to relay information straight back to the command post so the model could be updated in as close to real time as possible, moving markers across the enormous, detailed model of the terrain. In many ways, Solant didn't need it, she saw the whole campaign in her head, just from catching the scent of the updates as they came through, but looking at the model seemed to help her think.

Right now, orders were being sent out to the entire expeditionary force to once more press for expansion. The entire safe-zone was a hive of activity, with ants frenetically running all over the place, reconnecting with their battalions and getting back on schedule. In fact, they had far more antpower than they needed right now. The waves of troops pouring in from the fourth hadn't ceased for a moment, even though they weren't able to reach their assignments.

For the time being, they'd been absorbed into the already deployed battalions until such time they could enact their tasks. Throwing more ants at a problem wasn't always a way to make it go away faster, but it usually helped.

With all of the problems the fifth was throwing at them, having more ants around to push back wasn't a bad thing in Solant's book, not at all.

Into the chaos of the command post came two respected figures, just as rushed and hectic as everyone else.

"Ellie, Bella, nice to see you," Solant greeted them in clipped tones. "How can I help you?"

The two core shapers looked at each other for a brief moment before turning back to Solant and speaking at the same time.

"It's about the wuffers," they both said.

"Is it the degradation problem? I've been informed of that. Nasty business," Solant said.

"No," Bella said, jumping in before Ellie, "it's about our plan for fusion. We wanted to know if you were willing to go ahead with it."

"Already?" Solant queried, turning her full focus onto the two. "This is far ahead of schedule."

"We need more wuffers, and we need them now," Ellie replied. "It's the only thing that can get us back on track."

"But we will suffer a tremendous loss in the short term, correct?" Solant asked carefully. "We will lose multiple tier six wuffers in order to create a single queen."

"That's right, but in the long run, a queen will generate more wuffers who will more than make up for the lost capacity…. Eventually."

"Do it," Solant said decisively.

"What? Are you sure?" Bella gasped.

"We are here for a long time," Solant said in a businesslike manner. "The sooner we produce the first queen, the sooner we cross over the mark which accelerates us past our previous pace. Despite the issues we are facing, I will always take a long term payoff over a short term benefit. That's how we will win."

"We… we'll get right to it, then."

The two core shapers dashed off, and Solant shot them a quick salute before turning back to her work. If they were successful, then the entire operation would receive an enormous boost, with new wuffers being produced on site from the Biomass the Colony couldn't otherwise use.

"I'll need to adjust the projections again," Solant muttered to herself.

With less tier six wuffers right now, that meant the expansion would be delayed yet again in the short term, but accelerated in the long term. The builders would have to focus more on the internal structure of the fortress before finishing the outer layers in a rush, which was basically the opposite of how it had been initially intended to go.

It would be close. If they didn't finish sealing and enchanting the outer walls of the fortress, then it wouldn't stand a chance of resisting the wave. The schedule had been pushed right to the brink.

"No problem," she said and clacked her mandibles with satisfaction. "I like a challenge."

Back to the model she went, inspecting every little piece of the invasion as it currently stood. In a few minutes, she began issuing orders. A little change here, a little shift there. With the extensive planning and drilling that had gone into preparing the troops, major adjustments were unnecessary and unwanted, but like an artist with a brush, Solant would make a slight touch, and leave behind a picture that was just that little bit more coherent and clear than it was before.

And if she did it over and over again, what would be left behind would be elegant, efficient, and flawless.

-x-X-x-

Well, well, well. I've been cleared by the docs, and the vents have fallen silent, which means it's time to get back down to the depths as the Colony continues to take territory.

Yay.

Back into the burn, baby! Ah, the sweet sensation of my eyes being melted by acid, how I missed it! No matter how I try to force cheeriness, it's deeply unpleasant to be exposed to the toxic mana. It's difficult to think of anything else while I'm out in it. I mean, it literally burns my entire body, on the outside at least. And of course, it's constantly attempting to work in and melt me from the inside as well.

Whatever the next stratum is, it cannot be as bad as this.

Quick, touch wood! But there's no wood! Dammit! Now I'm going to get down to the sixth and find out it's basically like standing on the surface of the sun, or something. Or perhaps the temperature is just absolute zero in there and I won't even be able to move.

Come on, Anthony, think more positively! The fourth is such a nice, pleasant place to be, filled with life and light and sparkling water. Maybe the sixth will be filled with soft blankets that hug you!

I can dream, dammit!

I should probably focus. Despite leaning on my many minds and divergent thinking to monitor my surroundings, I do need to pay close attention. The monsters here are still a threat.

There aren't that many around me right now. This close to the purified mana produced by the wuffers, the native monsters were able to sense it and rushed upward to attack us a long time ago. New creatures are spawning, but even here, they're weak enough that I can deal with them relatively easily.

The monsters down here are… different from the monsters I've run into before. Fifth stratum monsters aren't as directly strong as creatures from the fourth or even the more powerful demons from the third. They don't move fast, or hit hard, or cut savagely, or attack with mana as relentlessly as the monsters from before. Instead, they're… tricky. They do everything they can to spread their own particular brand of acid, or toxic slime, or putrid, contaminating filth, and let that do the bulk of the work for them.

Then half of them seem almost designed to die. They explode in an eruption of goo that will kill even me if it touches me, then out of the goo come a thousand wiggling little worms that try to burrow into my carapace, or jump into a nearby patch of mould, just waiting for an unsuspecting monster to come nearby.

I found a monster that literally attached itself to a wall and just fires a doom-spike of doom at anything that comes past. Without my precognitive abilities, I would have been spiked, and then no doubt digested from the inside out as it injected me full of awfulness.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, the monsters here are just as bad as the environment. Zero stars. Do not recommend.

Gah, where am I supposed to go, again? I mentally check in with Solant for a second using the Nave. I really need to use this thing more often, especially since it doesn't seem to be affected by the corrupting nature of the fifth like regular mental communication.

[Hey, Solant. How deep am I meant to go again?]

[You asked me this exact question five minutes ago.]

[Hey, it seems to me like that doesn't answer my question. Kinda weird you would waste time saying that, since you're so busy and all.]

[I am busy. Extremely busy.]

[Suuuure.]

I know she's busy.

[Follow the tunnel down for three kilometres.]

I can practically hear the mental sigh she is no doubt unleashing with all of her might. I cheerfully ignore it.

[Right, three kilometres, gotcha.]

The tunnel I'm in is just as comically huge as the ones I was in before, and it slopes down rather severely. Not that it's a problem for me and my amazing claws, I can handle a puny slope like this!

My destination confirmed, I head on down the tunnel, keeping my eye out for parasites, worms, slime, mucus and all the other pleasant things I have come to expect from this place.

Solant's plan for the initial invasion calls for us to push exactly twenty kilometres deep in order to construct the mega-base that will become our safe haven in this stratum. At the moment, we've only made it a little over half of that distance, so there's a long way into the depths that I need to go.

At least I know the Colony is busy descending right behind me. The wuffers are wuffing away, purifying mana, and my family is scrambling to catch up to the schedule.

After all the setbacks we've had, and sneak attacks I've suffered, I'm on full alert as I proceed down the tunnel. The deeper we get, the thicker and more disgusting the mana becomes, which is reflected in the environment. There's more strands of slime connecting the floor to the ceiling, more mould in all sorts of crazy colours, some offensively bright, others muted to the point they blend in with the rock. There's mucus rivers, even mucus waterfalls that ooze down from above and vanish into gaps in the floor, seeping far below. And the mucus itself is getting worse! Thicker, more virulent, with creepy colours flecked through it. I swear sometimes it moves on its own.

Yuck.

Stepping around one particularly disgusting mucus pool, I get a tingle from my antennae, followed by the sight of something stabbing out at me from beneath the surface. Exploding into motion, I roll to one side, crushing rocks, mould patches and a worm, as it turns out. Yet, despite my forewarning, the attack I saw doesn't eventuate.

Or perhaps it did? There was a flicker, barely there….

Suspicious, indeed.

Well, this won't do. Gathering my mana, I put my minds to work, and soon the pool is subjected to an enormous blaze of Dragon's Breath. The temperature in the tunnel skyrockets as I unleash the scorching fire upon the mucus, which bubbles and churns in a frankly awful way.

When all is said and done, I melt the pool to nothing. There were a few little bitey-looking eels in there, but I don't think they were responsible for what I saw. On closer inspection, I do find something else that warrants my attention. A gap in the rock, very small, very narrow. Not much could fit inside that… but a certain species of squishable slug could.

-x-X-x-

Sadly, that encounter was only the beginning of my Krath concerns. I start to see signs of them everywhere I look. Slime trails on the walls, but when I try to follow them, there's a little crack they've slithered into, which inevitably launches poisonous spikes, or clouds of toxic gas. There was one which just erupted with a massive font of sludge that blasted fifty metres past my head after I dodged out of the way.

So, they're being tricky. Hey, fine. You want to lead me into these stupid traps? I can just ignore the slime trails. I've got stuff to do anyway.

The next time I spy one of the half-hidden trails, I pay it no mind and keep moving forward, chomping on the monsters that rush forward the moment they spot me. It doesn't take the Krath long to figure out that I'm no longer willing to play their game, which just means that they move to the next one.

As I creep forward, my antennae start tingling almost constantly and I can feel tiny eddies in the gravitational field around me as they slither about, but it's really tricky to pin them down. Unlike most monsters down here, who have a rudimentary sort of cunning at best when confronting an outsider such as myself, the Krath are extremely cautious. I can feel just how cautious they are. They move, then freeze, then move again after I pay attention elsewhere. No two ever seem to be moving at the same time, and they are impossible to find just by looking. Somehow they always find something to blend in with. I'm telling you, chameleons have nothing on these damn slugs!

They must have some sort of mottled outer skin or something. Unless there's an eyestalk sticking out, I can't see a darn thing.

Which is when they start launching things at me.

I'm monitoring changes in mana like a hawk who can see mana, but they aren't doing anything magical, they just start shooting stuff at me. The first is a spike that I manage to dodge before it can lodge in my side. Next is a potent blast of acid that I jump out of the way of. When it hits the floor, it starts melting straight through the rock, vanishing into the darkness right before my eyes.

Oi! You stupid slugs! Someone could really get hurt from that!

But I choose not to retaliate, I've got a ton of tunnel to cover, and if I chase these pests, they're just going to slither down into a hole somewhere and vanish. Despite what a massive pain in the thorax they're being, I will persevere!

Which, of course, just means that they crank it up a notch. Two start firing at once, or three, or they shoot more than one projectile at a time. It becomes impossible for me to properly dodge, even with my foresight, simply due to the sheer size of my body and the clever ways they aim their shots. Which means I have to take more active measures, putting up shields or blasting their shots away with force or air magic.

The natural consequence is that my mental attention is further fractured. I'm constantly paying attention to my antennae, to the mana around me, preparing shields and other countermeasures, all of which is weakening my efforts to purge the invasive mana from myself!

Stupid slugs!

I'm fine for now, but if this goes on too much longer, it's going to become an issue. I half heartedly start shooting back at them, since I have the mana ready to go anyway. Blades of concentrated air slice outwards every now and again, trying to catch them when I sense movement, but if I hit anything, I don't get any sign, and as if in retaliation, their attacks intensify.

More spikes (where do they even get them from?), more acid, more everything, until it becomes a near endless barrage and I'm forced to commit even more of my mental resources to fending them off! It's a nightmare!

At least it would be, if this wasn't part of my master plan.

It's not easy to whip together a gravity well while concealing the expenditure of mana. In fact, it's extremely difficult. I'm certain signs of the building power leaked out, but by then they were so occupied by poking at me that I don't think they noticed.

And crucially, they let their guard down, and drew a little bit too close.

Eat gravity, suckers!

GWEHEHEHEHEHEH!

With an enormous outrush of power, the well forms above me, and all of a sudden, up becomes down and down becomes up. Naturally, I expect this, and manage to flip over gracefully before I land on the roof. Once I do, I crank the force of the gravity up to eleven… hundred.

Oh, they're moving now. In fact, I can actually see one! The slug is desperately clinging to the ground as it tries to creep out of the range of my gravity well.

What's the matter, little slug? Don't you feel like firing some acid at me? Or a spike, perchance? I clack my mandibles, filled with evil glee as I seize this moment to pay them back for all the pain they've caused me over the last few hours!

Better move quick, you darn slugs! If you lose your grip, I promise things won't get any better for you up on the roof!

In the end, I manage to catch two. The one who I saw earlier, and one other who tried to hold out in the mould, but was ultimately betrayed by their hiding place, since it weakened their grip.

Both slugs are ripped up to the ceiling and pressed into the surface. They flatten themselves down and try to escape the field, but it's no use. Filled with thoughts of vengeance I approach the two slugs, but, predictably, they do not give me the satisfaction.

Both detonate and melt away before I get a chance to chomp.

Absolutely crazy. I let the well dissipate and land heavily back on the floor of the cavern and continue my patrol.

I am not bothered any further.

-x-X-x-

Even if the slugs aren't attacking me anymore, they still watch. I can feel them slithering about on the edges of my gravitational awareness, tiny little eddies in the field I can barely sense. In some ways, it's a shame. I really do want to capture one and have a chat with them, but they seem keen to avoid such an exchange.

Ah well. If the slugs aren't shooting stuff at me, there's still plenty for me to worry about. The further I progress in this near-vertical tunnel, the thicker and more dense the slime becomes. It's almost like a spiderweb of mucus strands has been formed across the entire width of the tunnel, which spans over a kilometre, let me remind you.

It's so dense now that I actively have to burn or bite my way through. Every time I snap a strand, it recoils and slaps wetly against the rock or contacts another strand and becomes stuck, the two blending together and thickening the rest of the web.

So I advance slowly while holding desperate hope in my heart that I'm not going to find some kind of sludge-spider that's created this tangled mess. Of all the things I've seen and fought down here, an eight-legged, slime-spitting arachnid would be the most off-putting I can imagine.

Fortunately, I haven't come across anything like that so far, just the usual frogs, slime-fish, and a few more of those weird egg-looking things.

VOID CHOMP!

I don't empower it, because goodness knows what would happen if I did. Would it suck in all the mucus strands? Or would they detach from the walls and then flop about until they stuck to me? I won't take the risk.

So I let the black jaws of pure energy scythe through the strands, then creep forward, filled with caution. My antennae never stop moving as I try to sense any scent, any gravitational shift, and my eyes, as always, are peeled. For trouble, specifically.

And, in fact, the deeper I go into the mess, the more I do begin to sense something. Many things. Many, small things. For a while, I'm worried that this is a whole bunch of Krath ahead of me, but I soon dismiss the idea. The Krath are way, way sneakier than whatever this is. The slugs move so cautiously, so cleverly, I end up second-guessing myself whenever I think I spot one. Whatever is causing this sensation, it's just wiggling about all over the place.

Another chomp, another slight advance, and I'm starting to get a sense of where the centre of this mess might lie. I mean, the Colony is going to come through here and use this tunnel as part of the eventual fortress, so all of this needs to go. If I can figure out what created this web and destroy them, that'll be to the benefit of the family.

Steadily, I chomp through, bit by bit, heading towards what I believe to be the centre mass of this tangled web. Soon, I can see it. Right in the middle, hanging in the air, connected to strands coming from the floor and ceiling, is a large mass of snot.

For want of a better word.

It basically looks like more mucus strands that have been mixed with dirt or crushed rock to create something… more solid. Whatever I've been feeling wiggling about is crawling all over and within this thing. It's fairly large, dozens of metres across, perhaps as many as fifty, and roughly (very roughly) spherical.

I'll need to get closer to get a better look at it. The air down here is basically filled with a constant miasma, a toxic fog, that can make it difficult to see at times. Here, surrounded by all this sludge, it's quite thick.

Chomp.

Another strand is sheared apart by the extended energy mandibles, and it recoils sharply, whipping through the air and setting the entire network nearby to wobbling. Unlike before, there's a strong reaction from the booger-orb, with a heck of a lot of activity suddenly occurring. Creatures are boiling out of the thing and shimmying along the ropes of goop towards me. Well now, finally I get a chance to see what the heck has caused this mess!

What are you, you filthy mucus merchants?

I ready my mandibles to dispense righteous justice, only to freeze when the first of the foes draws close enough for me to see.

It… it can't be?

Not you. Not here. Not like this!

With its many legs, the monster shuffles along the mucus strand, a thick layer of goo coating its outside. Once it gets close enough, it rears up its back section and points it towards me. The beast flexes hideously and a truly disgusting strand of goop is fired towards me, arcing through the air before sticking to the rock I quickly vacated.

Irritated, the monster flexes its two claws at me, each squelching as they compress their own slime coating.

Centipedes. Slimetipedes.

REALLY, DUNGEON?! Even in the fifth you've started spawning these horrible things?! What is your problem, Gandalf!?

I swear to all that is sacred and holy, I will obliterate these damn things from the Dungeon and put in a personal complaint to Gandalf. This isn't right!

I mean, at least they aren't coated in diamond, which is a plus, but I can't exactly say that toxic sludge is much of an improvement either.

More and more of them are emerging, and I commit myself to the only reasonable course of action: annihilating everything around me with a black hole. It's the right thing to do.

I put together a powerful force barrier in front of me and begin to compress the gravity mana within me. Ah yes, all of these awful things that offend my eyes so badly will soon be going away.

And eventually, they will be removed from the Dungeon entirely, and I will no longer need to live on the same world as these creatures. Only then will I know peace.

-x-X-x-

It is difficult to piece together a specific theme or guiding principle for the naturally occurring monsters of the fifth. This may be due to how poorly studied they are, for obvious reasons. Expeditions to seize cores from the fifth do take place, but they are extremely risky, and therefore monstrously expensive.

Should the Krath catch wind of poachers, those poor individuals will suffer a truly terrible fate, but even without the intervention of the Slug Tribes, there are many ways to meet an end within the fifth.

Which means that even those successful expeditions that manage to return have only delved the top third of the stratum, at most. Who knows what creatures might lurk in the deep, where the mana is thickest and at its most potent?

From what we do know, we can say that the fifth has a huge amount of variety. Fish creatures, amphibian type monsters, insectile beasts, elementals, bipedal monsters, flying creatures, living mould creatures, turtles, dragons, flowers, trees and everything else under the sun and below.

What clearly differentiates it from the other strata is two things: the reliance on toxins, poisons and acids to do most of the damage, and the prevalence of parasites.

Monsters who need other monsters to be attached to themselves in order to live and thrive aren't unheard of elsewhere in the Dungeon, but nowhere are they as common as here. An entire branch of study has been founded amongst the Shapers to try and determine if a positive, symbiotic relationship can be found between a parasite and host. They want to create a custom parasite that will strengthen the monster they introduce it to, but the Dungeon seems somewhat resistant to such designs. There must be a reason for that.

- Excerpt from the private notes of Granin.

I nearly died, but it was totally worth it. Should I have put as much juice as I did into that gravity bomb? Probably not. In my defence, I can only say that I was not in my right mind at the time. I was traumatised by the sight of my hated foe, my nemesis.

I hate those damn centipedes even more than I hate the termites. Although, if I run into a fifth stratum variety of termites I might just lose it. That is not something I ever want to see.

In the wake of my… slightly over the top course of action, the centipede nest… and everything around it for a significant distance, was very much destroyed. Once I pried myself out of the rubble, the environment had most definitely changed for the better, with most of the mucus strands gone, along with most of the nearby tunnel.

Hey, it's probably easier to build in this than it was to build with the mucus everywhere! You're welcome, Cobalt and Tungstant!

Feeling much better about life, the universe and all the other stuff, I cheerfully advance into the tunnel again. I'm only about two kilometres deep at the moment, and I have the final third of this particular sojourn ahead of me before I can call it quits and get back to the safe-zone.

Before I do so, I sit down for a second and make a thorough check of my body, turning my many minds inward. As expected, trace amounts of toxic mana have taken root in several places throughout my carapace, and I take the time to break them all down, ensuring nothing is left behind. When that's done, I check myself again and come up empty. That doesn't mean there aren't pieces left, but they're so small that I can't sense them, so it's time to move on. Only by getting checked over when I return can I be sure to be completely free of the stuff.

For a few hundred metres, there isn't much to worry about, most of it has been thoroughly annihilated by the bomb I unleashed. The tricky part is finding a way through all the rubble. Certain sections of the tunnel have collapsed, and others are certainly unsteady. Again, something I'm sure the carvers are more than capable of fixing.

So down I go, making excellent progress. Even the miasma has been consumed by the bomb, to some extent anyway, which gives me better visibility as I make my way forward.

Eventually, I come to the outer edges of the mucus web and am forced to cut my way through, but it doesn't present much of a challenge. Then I'm through! Whoo!

Now, what else lies ahead?

As far as I know, once I reach my destination, the tunnel I'm currently heading down will intersect another and come to an end in a T-intersection. Which should be just ahead of me. This new tunnel runs horizontally, so it will need to be conquered eventually, but for the time being, it'll be ignored as the Colony completes construction up above.

It might be because I destroyed everything behind me, but there seems to be a distinct lack of monsters around here. Like, an almost suspicious lack of monsters.

I advance hundreds of metres down the tunnel, and there just… isn't much to see.

I'm pretty much completely vertical now, clinging to the wall of the tunnel and looking straight down as I come toward the intersection, which finally comes into sight.

And… I suppose that is probably the reason I'm not seeing many monsters around….

Ahead of me, I can see the point where the two tunnels meet and this one ends. Normally, such intersections are the most chaotic parts of the Dungeon, filled to the brim with monsters running into each other and vibrant environments.

Instead, I see something else. At first I thought it was a massive pool of lurid green slime, streaked through with an almost offensively bright yellow colour, but then I saw it ripple.

It's not a pool of slime, it's a single organism, a monster. When I look closer, I can make out its shape a little better and it becomes relatively easy to determine what it is.

It's a snake, coiled up in a circle. A single, truly enormous snake.

Could this thing be tier eight or nine?! Holy moly!

Looks like I found the old monster who lords over this section of the Dungeon. I wonder if it left the centipedes alone for any particular reason, or did they only recently move in while this thing was napping?!

I hunker down, and begin to slowly retreat.

Chances are, I'll need to fight this thing, but not right now. I've been out in the toxins for too long. I need treatment, I need a break from constantly regenerating my eyes, and I need to consult with the headquarters about what they want me to do. For now, I settle for giving Solant a quick heads up.

[Hey there, general. I've reached the endpoint, and I'm starting to make my return. Just thought you would like to know that there is a significant impediment to our progress just ahead of my position.]

[In what form?]

[Snake form.]

-x-X-x-

It took far too long for anyone to recognise just what the ants had achieved in the fifth stratum. Specifically in regards to the fortress, or nest, they constructed.

Building a secure base within the fifth had been done before, many times, over the centuries. Almost every attempt to cleanse the fifth, or merely secure territory within it, had created a base, or fort, of some sort or another during their stay. Indeed, the Legion is rumoured to maintain a facility there to this day, though they deny any such claims.

However, the Colony created something unlike anything that had been created before. The manner of its construction was unique. The scale of the project was unique. Most crucially, the function was wholly original.

Not only did the fortress act as a nest, a fortified position to protect those within and a safe environment that warded off the toxic mana of that place, but it was perhaps the first mana factory ever produced.

The ant fortress was designed to act like a beating heart, an endless engine that cycled in filth and pumped out pure, refined mana. Simple in principle, fiendishly difficult in practice.

It is nothing short of a miracle of engineering and enchanting.

- Excerpt from 'Insect Expertise' by Rathwyn Werilos

"No! Don't put that there!"

CLANG.

The human worker turned when they heard the voice call out to them, only to trip and cause the four men to drop their burden on the spot.

Which, of course, just so happened to be above an incredibly sensitive component of a mana channel, bending the metal out of shape.

Isaac resisted the urge to slap himself in the forehead. It wasn't the workers' fault, he shouldn't have called out like that. Nor could he blame them for being so confused as to the proper destination for those beams. Things had become incredibly chaotic once the expansion had restarted. Construction projects that had been frozen during the vent activity were restarted, even while other projects that had been picked up to fill the time were still ongoing.

"Sorry about that, lads," he said to the incredibly guilty-looking workers. They were looking about themselves, as if wondering when an ant was going to leap out and bite their legs off. "Those beams need to go to the next drop-off point, which is about two hundred metres down that way."

He pointed, and the men thanked him gratefully before they bent down and picked up their supplies once more. Only when they were well off down the tunnel did he say anything to Cavalant, upon whom he was still mounted.

"I'm surprised the carvers didn't rush over the second they heard the metal drop. It's not like it was quiet."

"They wanted to," she replied, using her antennae to direct his attention. Sure enough, waiting in the wings were several teams of ants, grinding their mandibles anxiously. As soon as the human workers had made it far enough away, they rushed over and inspected the metal.

"How is it?" one carver asked.

"It's gone. We need to lift out this whole section and have it replaced."

"Any chance they can fix it at the forward fabrication workshop?"

"Maybe. Worth taking it to them for a look, but we can't wait for that. Someone get word to the depot and request a new component. What's the section number?"

"It's… carver dash six, eight, eleven."

Isaac listened from the side, extremely chagrined.

"Wait, the channel was ruined from that drop? I'm so sorry!"

He'd never seen them made, but he knew just how much work went into each of these channels. The ants only used their best metals, and each one was heavily enchanted. Even above each of those, the channels were extremely well formed, an incredible piece of smithery. Each one was handmade, after all. Well, not handmade. Mandible made?

The carvers turned to face him, confused.

"Sorry? For what?" they asked him.

Before Isaac could try and explain, Cavalant stepped in for him.

"I can answer this. It's a human behaviour, they will apologise for accidents that they cause, even unintentionally."

Isaac looked down at his partner.

"Isn't that normal?" he demanded.

"Of course it isn't," she refuted.

The carvers seemed to agree with her.

"You made a mistake. Don't apologise for mistakes."

"Indeed, apologising makes it seem as if you did something wrong. Mistakes are natural, they will happen, we strive to minimise them, but plan for them to happen. There are spares of every component of the fortress for exactly this reason."

"See?" Cavalant said. "You're the weird one."

Well… plops. This was just one of those instances where normal human behaviour didn't mesh with the way ants thought about things.

"Well, let's get out of their way and make sure nothing else gets dropped in places it shouldn't," he suggested and Cavalant clacked her mandibles in agreement.

The two moved further into the tunnel, leaving the carvers to their business. The work crew had managed to deliver their burden, without destroying anything else on the way, and were headed back towards the lifts, ready to collect their next load.

Isaac kept a wary eye on them, but couldn't help but notice his thoughts wander, which they did more and more often the longer he was down in the fifth.

He wondered, though he tried not to, what Morrelia was up to. Was she still there, in the fourth stratum, above him? What was she doing? Was she working with the Legion, trying to find a way to kill Anthony? Or perhaps, just perhaps, she was thinking of the dashing ant-knight, with the stunning moustache?

"Hey, stop daydreaming up there," Cavalant snapped. "We've got work to do."

-x-X-x-

Morrelia was frustrated.

"Tribune, you need to relax a little, you look like you're going to bite someone's head off," her fellow Tribune, Joshen Aurelis noted.

She narrowed her eyes at the man, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. Joshen wasn't someone that Morrelia was able to get along with. He was too stuffy, too… clean. Being in the Legion was a career of being ankle deep in blood and guts, so how was this guy always so spotless? It shouldn't have been possible!

"I just might," she growled.

Joshen sighed and put down the papers he was carrying. The two were the sole occupants of the officers' tent, which wasn't as unusual as it sounded, considering most of the camp was asleep. They were the only two who'd be inside at such an hour.

"You aren't still obsessing over your bizarre scheme?" he said.

"Bizarre?" Morrelia snapped. "What's bizarre is having an entire Legion of elite troops sitting on their hands in the fourth doing nothing. There are hotspots throughout the Dungeon that desperately need help, what are we achieving by staying here?"

"We are fulfilling our mission," Joshen said patiently, and perhaps, a little condescendingly.

"No, we aren't," she forced out through gritted teeth. "What is our mission, Joshen?"

"To isolate and kill the prospective Ancient."

"And how exactly have we gotten closer to achieving that objective today? Tell me, Joshen, what bold strides have you made?"

"You know as well as I do that pursuing the monster into the fifth stratum would be suicide. We are waiting for the Krath to do our work for us."

"So you admit we aren't doing anything."

"Someone has to be here to confirm that the mission has been achieved."

"And how are you going to do that? You think the Colony is just going to tell us?"

"You know as well as I do that our Dungeon seers are close enough to confirm the creature's death the moment it occurs."

"And how long will that remain true? How deep will the target go before they're no longer able to be sensed through the interference of the fifth?"

"I will admit, as I have in the past, that will become a problem, but right now it isn't."

Morelia threw up her hands.

"So we just stay here, doing nothing, achieving nothing, hoping that the Krath are able to kill our target?"

"Those are our orders," Joshen shrugged.

At this point, Morrelia made the sensible decision and stopped talking. This guy was just infuriating. As long as they were doing as they were told, he was satisfied, whereas Morrelia was climbing up the walls, desperate to be doing something useful.

If she asked her mother for advice, the woman would probably tell her to do whatever she wanted. Minerva hadn't exactly been amazing at following directives, but she was such an effective leader and fighter that the troops went along with whatever she wanted to do anyways. It didn't hurt that she was almost always right in her strategic decisions, either.

The only thing the higher officers could do with her was put her right at the top of the Legion and make her Consul. At least at that point she wouldn't be insubordinate anymore, since all the orders were coming from her!

"Are you two still bickering in here?"

The two Tribunes snapped to attention as Commander Chyron slipped into the tent. The grizzled veteran was decked out in her armour, only missing her helmet, which made her formidable presence even more hard-edged than usual.

"You know it's possible for both of you to be right?" the Commander drawled. "As soldiers of the Legion, it's important that we follow our orders and don't break the trust that's been placed in us. At the same time, it is a waste of resources for us to be sitting here doing nothing at a time when the Abyssal Legion is drastically short-handed."

Feet stomping heavily in her armour, the Commander walked into the tent, staring down both of her Tribunes.

"You're quite right, Commander," Joshen said, causing Morrelia to roll her eyes before she could stop herself.

"Has there been any word from the brass?" Morelia asked, Chyron just looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. "... Commander, has there been any word from the brass?" Morrellia winced and corrected herself.

"As a matter of fact, there has. Lo' I bring you a miracle! The Consul has changed their mind," Chyron said.

"Are we redeploying?" Morrelia asked, heart in mouth.

If they were going to leave Anthony alone, that would at least save her troubled conscience. She hated this mission, even if it gave her a chance to be closer to the people she'd helped to save in Renewal. There were many, many places in the Dungeon where her Skills could be put to good use in the service of those who were unable to defend themselves in ways that didn't involve trying to kill old friends.

"Of course not," Chyron huffed, "they aren't going to bend that far. Our mission is still valid and important. Any monster who experiences the Call needs to be prevented from descending. That's been the case for over a thousand years, and it isn't going to change now."

The Commander eyed her two officers before she continued.

"No. It's been determined that we will need to be closer to the target in order to accurately record their death, or, in the unlikely event they make it through the fifth, be able to report their location to an interception team in the sixth."

Joshen frowned.

"So we are to give up trying to achieve the kill ourselves?"

That was not a turn of phrase that Morrelia liked hearing. Was Joshen really that focused on achieving this mission? What for? The glory? To increase his chances of promotion?

"For the time being, that is correct," Chyron affirmed. "We've been given permission to provide limited support to the ants as they attempt to progress into the fifth in order to justify our presence watching over the target. It's believed that this will further aggravate the Krath and cause them to target the ants even further, while allowing the Legion to achieve other objectives elsewhere in the fifth."

"Killing two birds with one stone," Morrelia said flatly.

Chyron grinned.

"We're nothing if not efficient."

"Doesn't this put us at tremendous risk?" Joshen asked, his tone flat.

"Of course it does," the Commander replied. "You're in the Legion. This is what we do."

-x-X-x-

"Twelve hours before you go out again," the healer scolded, "not a second sooner."

"I heard you the first time. AND the second time, alright? The third just feels insulting."

"We've been instructed to warn at least three times, since our patients are so determined to make their injuries worse."

"Hey, I'm not in the Immortals! You think I like having my eyeballs melted?"

The healer looked at me suspiciously and clacked her mandibles in thought.

"Maybe," she said.

"Now I am offended."

"I don't care if you're offended, only if you're alive," the healer said, hopping off my carapace and heading off to her next patient.

Yeesh. They really are the grumpiest of all the castes in the Colony. Permanently peeved.

I slowly pick myself up and give myself a quick check over. Of course, I don't find anything wrong, since the healers have a much better sense for these things than I do. To be honest, I feel a lot better knowing that an expert has given me the all-clear. The mana of the fifth is just so insidious. I'm not a fan of walking around while trace amounts might still be inside me.

[Master, welcome back!]

[Hey, Crinis, how's things?]

The little ball of infinite nightmares slips out of the shadows and manifests herself into a little ball in front of me, wiggling her tentacles in greeting.

[As good as they can be in this place,] she replies, full of cheer.

[Yeah, I hear you. Things are tough down here. Any word from Tiny and Invidia?]

[They're still fighting in the tunnels, I believe. At least, Tiny is, and Invidia won't leave without him.]

Ah, I should have known. I reach out to the ape, who very much should have finished his rotation on the frontlines by now.

[Hey, Tiny! If you've finished your shift, clock off and come find me. That's an order! Sheesh!]

Dammit, Tiny. I can only imagine how frustrating he finds the fighting down here, but even so, he won't walk away from it if he has the chance to throw punches.

[While he sulks and finishes up his shift, let's head over to the headquarters. I need to talk to Solant and the others.]

[Oh, did you find something while you were out, Master?]

[Ah… yes. You know, it's weird having to explain, I'm too used to having you around all the time. Normally, you would already know what I'd seen.]

[Well… you could take me out there with you….]

[You know I can't, you silly little blob.] I poke her with my antenna and she wobbles pitifully. [I appreciate the thought, though. I'll tell you what I saw on the way, let's go.]

I pop her up onto my back and get moving as I explain my adventure. She… isn't happy about the Krath and their shenanigans. As I explain their tricks and aggression, she grows worryingly quiet. Dangerously quiet.

I quickly move on.

The command post, as usual, is extremely hectic, at least on the surface. There's a ton of movement, as you would expect, and at first it looks insane, but to the trained ant observer, it's clear where the lines of pheromones are. Just as things always are around Solant, there's a profound method behind the madness.

I, of course, ignore the entire system and literally walk all over it to get to the middle as quickly as possible.

I'm not trying to be annoying, although I accept that might happen as a consequence. It's just that I'm super busy! I've got a lot of stuff to do, and I can't be standing around, incredibly bored, in lines for half an hour!

What's that? I have to stay outside of the poison mana for twelve hours? What a useless and unrelated thought. Away with you!

"Hey, Solant. Here to report on the creature I saw."

The little general seems to have been fully prepared for my breach of protocol and is unperturbed. All the relevant ants have been gathered and are waiting for me to begin.

"You had the healer tell you I was coming," I guess.

"It's possible that you are more predictable than you think you are, Eldest," Solant demurs.

My antennae twitch. Little smart aleck.

"Fine. Yes, it looks like a tier eight monster, possibly nine if the evolutions were quite weak. It wasn't easy to get a sense of its core through the interference, but it was definitely strong."

"Stronger than yours?"

"Hey now, that's an insensitive thing to ask."

"But highly relevant, since you will be the one to fight it."

Well, I can't argue with that.

"Hard to say. It's close, I think."

As we converse, other members of Solant's group are busy recording things and discussing amongst themselves, moving things around on a little board they have between them all. These ants think way too much for me.

"This isn't the only powerful monster we've come across as we've expanded, but if your reading is accurate, then it is probably the strongest. Much like the fourth stratum, there appear to be areas where the oldest monsters have established a territory of sorts. Before we can safely expand into these zones, we will need you to take care of them, Eldest."

"Oh, great. I'm guessing I won't be able to fight them anywhere near the blue mana?"

"Unfortunately not. If we expand too close to them, they'll be drawn out to investigate. We can't risk that they will go berserk as the regular spawns do."

"Good news all around."

-x-X-x-

So, like everywhere in the Dungeon, there are pockets that have been 'claimed' by the biggest and baddest monsters as their own personal hunting ground.

It makes sense, really. The monsters who manage to survive long enough to form their cores, evolve a few times and get their Skills ranked up have a massive advantage over the fresh spawns. If they avoid the other monsters who managed to do the same, then they'll have an easy, if slow, path to progress by preying on creatures weaker than themselves. Confrontations between the biggest and strongest monsters don't make sense, there's too much risk.

This is only the case if they achieve sufficient levels of intelligence, which is probably why such powerful landlords were less common up in the first stratum. The monsters there just don't get that intelligent, acting more like Tiny and throwing themselves into battle after battle. Eventually they'll fall, or grow strong enough to descend deeper, where they fall anyway.

That's not the case here. Some monsters of the fifth are smart enough to survive, to avoid being infested with parasites, and to accumulate strength until they reach the point where they're able to thrive. Too tough to be worth hunting for the Krath or other monsters, they carve out their own niche and battle to keep it, maintaining their existence by feasting on those who manage to grow strong enough to provide sustenance.

Now that the Colony is pushing further and further into the fifth, we've started to brush up against the lands claimed by these creatures, and it falls to yours truly to go hunt them down.

After twelve sweet hours of rest, letting my carapace heal naturally and ensuring there is no speck of corruption within me, I am once again ready to face the wild, untamed, and super, super toxic fifth stratum.

It doesn't take long for me to find what I need. The Colony has been employing more and more ants whose Skills and abilities align with Brilliant in some capacity. Mages with the ability to glean information from the Dungeon itself, which seems like some sort of witchcraft to me. It's these ants who direct me down a curved tunnel that opens to another deep pool of literally steaming mucus which fills the entire cavern with a noxious mist.

All in all, it's a super pleasant environment, so it shouldn't be too surprising that a giant turtle creature has decided to set up shop inside.

I stand on the banks of the borderline lake, and, at first, I can't even see the lousy creature.

My mind constructs are spinning up, and I'm ready to unleash some serious pain, but I don't know where to aim it. All I see is slime everywhere, with hills and bubbles of goop rising and falling on the surface. The corruption confuses my senses, as always, eating away at the mana and making everything hazy.

There's a big bad beasty in there somewhere, I just need to draw it out.

Stealthily, I begin to gather my gravity mana. It'll be hard for the monster to hide when this entire mucus puddle is sucked up into a black hole and crushed.

However, it appears as if I'm not as sneaky as I thought I was. My antennae flare in warning and I fling myself to the side as something large comes flying out from beneath the surface and crunches down at the place I just occupied.

What in the name of heck!?

Before it can retreat beneath the surface, I whip together a spell and unleash it.

Dragon's Breath!

The scorching hot fire ignites the air and raises the temperature to an inferno within an instant. The mucus starts to hiss and steam furiously as a monstrous bellow echoes out from within.

That's it, mister monster, come and say hello!

Again, my antennae sense danger and I'm forced to fling myself to the side as something bursts out of the muck and crashes down like the jaws of a titan. At least this time, I'm able to properly see what it is!

That's an energy attack, just like my mandibles when I use void chomp, or Tiny's fists. That wasn't the monster at all, but the projection of its bite! The lousy thing still hasn't shown itself at all!

Well, I have a solution for that!

Gravity Bomb!

My most devastating spell howls into existence, aimed directly into the heart of the mucus pool, and I leap back to give it space to enact its terrifying work. However, something happens that truly shocks me.

The entire pool of mucus begins to move. As if controlled by a single will, the unspeakable goop flows together before launching at the bomb, blasting upwards in a stream of concentrated foulness.

The bomb instantly expands to its full size, causing the air to shriek in protest as it is sucked away and crushed, but even that is soon cut off. In a shocking scene, the mucus engulfs the bomb, more and more of the goop rising up to coat it just as fast as it can be consumed.

Of course, there isn't an endless supply of sludge, and from within the diminishing pool the form of my opponent begins to take shape.

That wasn't a mound or bubble in the middle of the pool, it was a shell. Glaring up at me with hateful eyes is the most foul turtle I've ever seen, a thick wave of mucus pulsing from its shell as it produces a swimming pool worth of the stuff every second. A wicked, razor-sharp jaw, like a snapping-turtle, juts forward from its head, exposing the source of those vicious bite attacks.

With a whimper, my gravity bomb dies out, and the mucus is reclaimed by the monster, pulling the remainder back into its pool, where the hyper-condensed mush produced by the bomb falls heavily, drained of its mana.

The monster huffs a mighty breath and snaps its jaws, the sound so loud it shatters the air as it rebounds off the distant walls.

Oh, you think you're taunting me, mister turtle? You think that was the most powerful bomb I've got? You are very mistaken.

I've got plenty more in the tank. Have you?