Things are happening all over the place. More and more ants pour down into the fifth through the entrance. Even now, hours into the invasion, the flow of troops has not slowed. In fact, it has only accelerated. I can sense them all through the Vestibule, feel their iron-hard resolve and selfless determination.
Then I sense someone who has a little too much selfless determination.
Is that Leeroy? What in the name of heck is she doing down here? I haven't exactly gone out of my way to learn all the details of the plan, because my brains would probably explode if I tried, but I find it hard to believe bringing her and the Immortals down here is a good idea.
I'm sure Solant has a plan, but I can't think what it could be for the life of me. Perhaps Leeroy bribed her to allow them to find eternal rest in the fifth? I wouldn't put it past the moronic ant to give it a try.
There's so much activity going on, it's dazzling. If I let my mind dip into the stream of Will for even a second, I feel like I'll get swept away in the torrent. There's fighting everywhere. As the Colony extends our zone of control deeper into the fifth, the number of fronts grows larger and larger. Native monsters are throwing themselves at my sisters in mindless rage all over the place. More and more wuffer stations are being established, the carvers and mages working at a furious pace to establish the network of channels and pipes that are necessary to maintain our position, and indeed, to expand it, because we aren't done yet.
In fact, there's a heck of a long way to go before we hit the mark that Solant is demanding, and things are going to get even more crazy before we get there.
We finally broke through the acid lake, which was a heck of a sight. When we were done with the thick, sludgy acid, it changed into something else entirely. I've got no real clue what it was, but it didn't burn or poison us, so… winning?
The issue is what we found beneath the lake.
"There's definitely a series of caverns down there," Tungstant stated, prodding at the floor beneath us.
The carvers were able to create a dry spot by raising up walls and pumping any liquid out, which is where we now stand, preparing to continue digging down.
"Naturally formed?" Solant asked, intent.
"Let's go with half and half," Tunstant replied, continuing to waggle her antennae back and forth as she sensed the stone. "Some of it has definitely been dug out… but by what method, I have no idea. The shape of the rock is… strange."
"Perhaps it was melted away with acid?"
Tungstant clacked her mandibles thoughtfully, concentrating on what her more esoteric senses told her.
"That's possible," she said slowly. "It would explain how smooth the walls are."
Solant nodded, satisfied.
"We found them," she said, looking entirely too smug.
"Found who?" I ask, glaring.
"This is likely to be a hiding place for the Krath. A village, of some sort. I expect it will have been abandoned by now, but this is an exciting find nonetheless."
My antennae slump.
"I have to go in there, don't I?"
"Yes, of course. There are almost definitely traps and incredibly harmful substances. None of us could hope to survive, but you at least have a chance."
"... Yay."
I'm surprised they were able to be found this close to the fourth, but once the carvers create an opening and I'm lowered down, it's clear to see that some sort of intelligent creature was living here. Wild monsters don't create such neat and organised living spaces.
Back in the burning atmosphere of the fifth, I keep a steady flow of regeneration fluid running through my body. The count of ants providing Will to the Vestibule is rising every minute. There must be over a hundred thousand in the fifth by now, and many, many more waiting in the fourth.
Trying to ignore the incessant irritation of having my carapace constantly melting, I do my best to take a look around.
It's eerie being here. I can see little holes in the wall that appear to lead into sphere-ish slug houses, stacked on top of each other and burned into the walls of the cavern.
Much like ants, they don't appear to stress about gravity all that much. There are paths and homes right up the walls and onto the ceiling. I try peeking inside one of the rooms, but I can't see much. It's so dark inside and the miasma is so thick in this place it's ridiculous.
I mean, holy moly, how do they even breathe in here? The atmosphere is melting my eyes so fast the healing can barely keep up. Without a constant supply of regeneration fluid, I'd be blind as a bat in about a minute.
Just as Solant had suspected, the place looks abandoned. I can't sense much of anything moving, no shifting gravity waves, no intent… nothing. The place is almost suspiciously dead.
Which, of course, it is. When I move further in, I find what used to be their fields and cattle… pits? Whatever they were raising and tending here, they made sure we wouldn't be able to get our mandibles on it. There are signs of violence everywhere, but the bodies are gone, absorbed back into the Dungeon before I got here.
There does appear to have been some effort at cultivating the land, though, which I find odd. Why the heck would they be growing food down here? Aren't they monsters?
Don't think that I'm looking at nice, furrowed rows of rich, brown earth for a second. That's not how things work in the fifth. They were growing mould, but not in a cool way like the termites were, but in a gross, stinking, slimy way. Yuck!
The blue mana has already begun to descend into the cavern, slipping through the opening I entered through and cleansing everything it touches. Good luck with those pits, blue mana, you're gonna need it!
I try to stay ahead of the mana as I explore. If I find something interesting, I'll need to preserve it since it'll probably turn into mush the second it comes into contact with the purified energy.
Despite keeping that in mind, when something finally catches my eye, it's only a split second before the mana hits it.
A momentary parting of the haze, perhaps a lucky glint of light catches my attention and I lock onto them.
They look like… pearls, I would guess. Kind of inky black, shiny pearls, each about the size of a hatchling's eye and covered in a thin film of slime. There are only a dozen or so, nestled into a pool of clear fluid that clearly would have contained many, many more.
The moment I see them, I realise what they are: eggs!
The next moment, the blue mana envelops them, and they begin to sizzle.
-x-X-x-
The eggs weren't destroyed! Whoo! Regardless of what I might think of the Krath (it isn't good), I didn't want to see a bunch of eggs get roasted by the purification process.
They were definitely changed, though. No longer black, they were… lighter. Not quite white, more like a… a sombre sort of grey. Reaching out with my senses, I could tell that the life present within them was still there, if perhaps a little muted from what it had been before.
When the rest of the Colony came down to join me, I was quick to point out to Solant, Tungstant and the others just what I'd found.
"This is… unexpected," Solant mused, for once not having foreseen the issue. "I would never have imagined that Krath, even unhatched, would be able to survive the purification process."
"More than that, they may not even be monsters," I point out. "They were clearly farming and growing food down here. Mould and meat, it looks like."
Tungstant appears quite perturbed by this revelation.
"If they aren't monsters, how on Pangera were they able to survive down here? The fifth is… such a unique biome, I can't imagine something being able to live here without specifically being born to this place."
Solant has an answer for that.
"There are legends that the fifth wasn't always like this. That it was corrupted by one of the Ancients. None of the stories agree on which one. Morribolg, perhaps, or Theorazzn. Perhaps even Yolesh. Only the sophos have a history of the Dungeon that goes back that far, and even they aren't sure."
"Wait, you spoke to the sophos? About the fifth?" I break in.
Solant flicks an antenna dismissively.
"I sought out all information available about the fifth, from every source willing to speak to us. I have read thousands of pages, hundreds of texts, transcribed into pheromones, about this place. Preparation is not just the key to victory, it is the victory itself."
Yeah, yeah. Smarty legs.
"As I was saying," she continues, "it's possible that the Krath were not always the way they are now. Perhaps they too, like the fifth, were changed into their current form… corrupted by the toxic energy that fills this place."
"If they weren't always the slippery, slimy critters that they are now… what were they in the past?" I wonder.
Solant turns her eyes down to the eggs, shimmering slightly in the clear fluid around them.
"We might be the first in thousands of years to find out…."
As much as I would have loved to keep speculating and chatting with my siblings, unfortunately, that isn't my job down here in the fifth. My role is to hurl my body out into the toxic wastelands, fight off the disgusting and putrescent monsters that fill this terrible place, and act like the canary in the coalmine.
A shiny, amazing, diamond-coated canary.
So once the Krath village is secured, I am back out on the road, so to speak, exploring through the enormous, wide open tunnels, running just ahead of the cleansed area as it continues to expand downwards. It won't be long until we hit the target depth set by Solant, and once we do, the construction will really begin. Until then, it's my job to root out any big nasties and keep the pressure off the lead teams.
As I use yet another Void Chomp to slash through a blubbering mass of goopy, stringy mess, it shudders and then explodes, sending invasive, parasitic little mites all over the place. I quickly incinerate myself, which isn't fun, but you'd be amazed at what you can get used to. I've had to set fire to my own body over a dozen times already. Much like that egg monster, it seems like monsters that try to invade and break you down even after they've been defeated aren't all that uncommon down here.
As the cleansing fire incinerates all the mites, who leap up at my carapace with all the enthusiasm of juvenile demons, I can't help but sigh. Man, I'm really putting myself through a lot of punishment here. Not for the first time, I thank Gandalf for my precious Vestibule. Without the flood of energy pouring through, there's no way I could survive out here.
Although… that would mean I'd have to stay in the blue mana, and the Colony couldn't send me out here like this. I prod one leg into my carapace suspiciously.
Were you really a curse all along, Vestibule? Now, at this time, you choose to betray me?
I'm knocked out of my reflection by a slight tingle in my antennae. It's so faint I almost miss it, but I'm so hyper-sensitive out here that I refuse to allow even the tiniest hint of sensory information to escape my notice.
The moment I try to chase that hint down, I'm immediately puzzled. What in the name of heck is that? For a while, I'm not even sure what sense is talking to me, but eventually I figure out it's my gravitation antennae mutation. There's something producing very fine, very delicate vibrations. I'm almost tempted to dismiss it, but the more I think, waving my antennae back and forth, I can't help but feel I've sensed this same feeling before.
Like… a lot, but I've never really paid attention to it much, given how quiet it was compared to everything else.
The more I quietly sit, ignoring the smoke coming off my eyeballs, the more confident I become. I've definitely felt that before, and I know exactly what it is.
Sneaky, sneaky. Thought you could hide from me? Impossible! Determined, I begin to head toward the strange feeling, then hesitate. I have a mission, I'm on a timer. Do I really have the time to be chasing this down?
After a moment, I throw my doubts aside. I have time, I'm ahead of schedule, and this could turn out to be important. I mean, it could turn out to be nothing at all, but it doesn't hurt to try, right?
Settled in my mind, I change my heading and start moving toward the unsettling yet familiar vibrations.
You're going to have to talk to me this time.
-x-X-x-
I'm going to be honest, it takes me a while to find out where those vibrations are coming from. Too long, if you want to be strict about the clock, which I should be. Once I start chasing down that tingle, it becomes almost impossible to ignore.
It's tricky to get at it. The source seems to be moving? At the same time, it isn't. Something fishy is most definitely going on, but as long as I keep moving forward, as long as the sense in my antennae keeps getting stronger, then I know I'm moving in the right direction.
The fifth has a weird layout. The first stratum was a mess of tangled little tunnels, some small, some large, which intersected and branched off each other just as often as they came together in huge caverns. So far, the fifth is similar in the sense that it's just tunnels, but these are all massive. The smallest I've seen was the first, one kilometre across, and the largest is the one I'm currently in, possibly as many as three across.
They are huge.
And in each and every one of them, there's a… flow, a sense of movement, of motion. The mana, thick, toxic and dangerous as it is, never stops moving, like it's a living, breathing thing.
At times, especially like now, when I'm exploring off on my own, there's a strange sense of being inside an enormous living creature. As large as I am, I feel like a germ, invading the body of another organism.
It's unsettling, to say the least.
I push all of that to the back of my mind as I keep trying to sniff out the sneaky little so-and-so who's tickled my senses. I double back a few times, confused, and eventually find myself staring at the side of a tunnel that I've walked past three separate times, scratching at my head.
Everything my antennae are telling me says that what I'm looking for is right in front of me. Yet, there's nothing there. My eyes, my mana sense, smell, everything is telling me that this is just a chunk of rock, exactly the same as every other chunk of rock, and that behind it is nothing, except for more rock.
And yet. AND YET.
There's tiny, little, waves. The slightest of gravitational disturbances, tickling and aggravating at the edge of my awareness, like the finest roots dangling from the end of a vegetable just pulled out of the dark earth.
Stupid tree. I know you're in there!
Unsure how to proceed, I decide to take a simple approach, and open my mandibles wide so I can begin charging a truly potent Void Chomp.
After a few seconds, the rock… morphs into… not rock, and then just peels back, parting like water to create a narrow tunnel. I close my mandibles with a soft snip and then walk forward. The tunnel is just wide enough for me to enter, but I have to fold up my legs as tight to my body as they'll go. It's uncomfortable, but I suppose that's the point.
After a while, I find the source of the maddening sensation, and just as I suspected, it's roots. Feeling smug, I reach out to them with my mind.
[Found your own little hidey hole down here, huh? How long have you been living in the fifth?]
For a minute, there's nothing but silence. The Mother Tree has never spoken to me directly. To be honest, I don't even know if she can. The roots trailing down from above writhe angrily, a huge mass of them, as thin as hair, until eventually, they twist into a shape.
It's a woman's face.
Then a mind reaches out to touch mine.
[Why are you here?]
Her voice is kind of scratchy and thin, as if she hasn't had to speak to anyone, even using mind magic, for a very long time. I don't know how she speaks to her children, but it's probably through an even more intimate method than mind to mind. Soul to soul, maybe?
She's clearly not happy to see me here. Even with a face formed of roots, she's scowling at me.
[Got a little sense of your presence, so I thought I'd come and say hi,] I say, radiating smug energy.
The vines twist in irritated knots before reforming to the face.
[How did you find me?] she demands. [This place should be impossible to find.]
I don't answer that, because of course I don't. Instead, I ask the question that I want answered.
[Do you actually live here? In the fifth? That massive tree above isn't your real body, is it? You've got sneaky little roots all over the place, sucking up mana, but this is different; you're actually here, somewhere.]
I don't think this is her real body, here in front of me, this random tangle of roots, but for whatever reason, she felt much more present. She definitely wasn't that far away, relatively speaking.
[I am not going to tell you that,] she hisses in my mind. [Stay away from me.]
The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Of course she's down here. Where else is she going to access a rich source of mana that nobody else is going to miss? She sends her taproots out into the third, into the second, maybe even the first, and I'm sure they pull in their fair share, but down here? The mana here might be disastrous to come into contact with, but the Colony has proven it can be made safe. By drawing in and purifying the energy of the fifth, she has a rich and ready source of power.
The two problems are, it would cost energy to gain energy down here, so her process must keep her ahead of the curve, and secondly, she would have to avoid detection. If the Krath found out what she was doing, they would lose their minds.
[Oh no,] I grin, [I think we're going to have a long conversation. After all, you can help us out with what we're doing. It affects you too.]
-x-X-x-
Externally, Crinis writhed, hundreds of limbs slipping into the shadows before they emerged outside the safe-zone, tearing apart the raging beasts who threatened to attack her Master's family.
Internally, Crinis writhed, with anger! How dare these disgusting creatures try to take apart anything that her Master wanted to build? The rage fuelled her as she launched attack after attack, spending herself unreservedly to annihilate the foe.
It was costly. Every time she extended a limb into the poison, she had to cut it off, lest it carry the infection back to her. The mana of the fifth was so virulent it tore apart her limbs in under a minute, breaking down the Dark mana that formed her body at incredible speeds. Whatever she lost, she had to replace, but the Colony was well aware of her limitations, and a steady supply of Biomass was being provided for her. Even so, she wasn't able to fight at full pace. Soon, she would need to rest and let her reserves build up again.
Master had commanded that she never fall below half of her maximum capacity, and Crinis was bound to obey that commandment, no matter what. Thinking of his care and concern for her warmed Crinis' heart and stoked the flames of her fury.
You monsters DARE to defile that which the Master seeks to create? My kind, wonderful, perfect, strong, perfect, wise, wonderful, perfect Master?! Die. DIE. DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!!!!!
With a snap, Crinis came back to herself and realised she'd withdrawn all her limbs, without realising it. For a moment, she was incandescent with fury, then realised she'd already burned through her reserves and hit the limit.
She grit her three sets of teeth, but managed to contain her emotions. Pulling in her flesh, Crinis returned to her preferred form, that of an 'adorable little ball,' as her Master so cleverly phrased it.
Considering how much she'd grown and evolved, she wasn't able to compress herself down as small as she had in the past, but even so, her Master had grown larger and didn't seem to notice the change. Or if he had, he hadn't mentioned it.
A mind brushed against hers and Crinis accepted the contact, allowing the ant to connect their thoughts.
[How goes the defence?] Brendant asked.
[Well,] Crinis replied, still feeling irritated that she couldn't lash out at the monsters she could sense beyond the safe-zone. Foul beasts, hurling their vile slime and bile towards her Master's family! Outrageous.
[I take it you need more Biomass? I'll have some brought immediately.]
[Thank you,] Crinis said, recalling her manners. She shouldn't be so consumed with anger that she forgot to be polite! [Have you…] she hesitated to continue, [... have you heard how my Master is doing? I haven't seen them in… more than an hour.]
They were still connected. In fact, he still spoke to her and her brothers every now and again. But she couldn't touch him, and when he was that far away, in her experience, things went very badly, very quickly! She felt uneasy and wouldn't be able to relax until her Master was once more within her gras—close and safe where she could protect him.
[As far as I'm aware, the Eldest is still hard at work on the front line, leading the way as the Colony descends deeper. Last I heard, they were fine, although Solant is constantly stressed the Eldest is going to go off schedule.]
[My Master cannot be bound by any such thing as a schedule,] Crinis declared proudly. [It is foolish in the extreme to try.]
Brendant dipped her antennae in acknowledgement.
[You are quite correct, as always. I think there are two dozen separate contingency plans that branch from the Eldest's actions. So far, none of them have needed to be put to use.]
It was only a matter of time, Crinis was sure of it.
[And my siblings? Are they behaving themselves?]
She could reach out to them directly, but they were unlikely to tell her. Tiny would claim everything was fine, no matter how bad the situation, and Invidia would not betray his confidence. The fluttering demon had always been willing to keep secrets, but now he was like a vault. A reliable and trustworthy confidant.
[Of course. You and your fellow Guardians have been of immense help. The two of them are fighting one level below where we presently stand. Tiny has not attempted to fight outside the safe-zone, and Invidia is doing an excellent job keeping him healthy and using his combustion magic on the enemy.]
[As long as they're being useful,] Crinis muttered.
There wasn't really any doubt. As much trouble as Tiny could get into, he always did his best to help, in his own way. With the strict conditions that the Master had put on him, there wasn't much opportunity for mischief.
And Invidia was there… surely nothing would go wrong.
[Thank you for taking the time to speak with me,] Crinis said, extending the top of her little blob so that she could dip it in a short bow.
[Not at all,] Brendant replied, dipping her antennae back. [And here is the Biomass you asked for. Enjoy your meal.]
A line of ants approached, carrying large chunks of food which they deposited in front of Crinis, who readily snapped them up with a tentacle and shoved them into her mouth.
It wouldn't be long until she had regenerated her lost strength and would be able to fight again. She couldn't wait… to be helpful, obviously.
-x-X-x-
When it comes to the obsessions that form the centre of a Demon's identity, many fail to realise just how broad the scope of what can form this obsession really is.
This is most likely due to the prevalence of certain obsessions, especially those that tend to form around the fifth and sixth tiers. Wrath, Pride, Greed and so on, the fundamental building blocks of almost all demonic obsessions, are practically synonymous with the denizens of the third stratum.
However, these are not the only possibilities. Firstly, it is important to note that as a Demon type monster evolves further, its obsession can, and often does, grow more complex, gain nuance that it didn't possess before. Demons who seek knowledge may now hunt only for particular fields of information, or chase specific sources. Demons who obsess over slaughter may now demand certain types of prey, or specific methods of killing.
Secondly, one must consider the paths less travelled: obsessions that simply do not pop up as often. In my studies, I have encountered reliable cases of demons with truly rare and often bemusing obsessions. These include:
Gardening.
Words starting with the letter 'Z'.
The scent of fried food.
Red and Orange.
Carpets.
Poems by Margrave De'Champaugnee (of which only three exist).
- Excerpt from 'On Demons' by Magio Scholar Liruen
Not for the first time, Invidia considered what it meant to be a true friend. In fact, this was something he thought of often. To be even more precise, it could be said that this was something he pondered almost constantly.
To put it directly: he was obsessed with the idea.
Not only did he want to know the answer to this question, he wanted to be the answer to this question. Every moment of every hour, his prodigious mind was turned to this purpose, and he felt that, even so soon after his evolution and the subsequent shift in his obsession, he was starting to get a few solid ideas.
Firstly, a friend was loyal.
Tiny turned and gave Invidia a thumbs up, and the little demon returned the gesture with his own, stick-thin digits. Another wave of attackers had been successfully dispatched, and there had been only minimal damage done to the safe-zone.
There was no need for anyone to mention the three separate occasions in which the big ape had attempted to leap out of the blue mana field, only to trip over himself as the command of their Master prevented him from carrying out the action.
Secondly, a friend would say the things that needed to be heard, not only the things that someone wanted to hear.
He fluttered up next to Tiny and placed his little hand on the massive, broad shoulder of his brother.
[It issss too dangeroussss to try and leapssss out. If you tripssss and fallssss, you may getssss poisoned. If it getsssss into your handssssss… no punching for daysssss.]
Tiny pondered this advice for a moment, his frown growing deeper and deeper, until finally he was seized by fear and began to shake his head furiously. Of course Tiny didn't want to have to wait for his hands to heal! It would be very upsetting if he couldn't punch!
This was already the third time that Invidia had pointed out this potential issue to his brother, but with each incident, Tiny came that little bit closer to injuring himself, and the message seemed to sink in that little bit further.
In this way, Invidia acted as he determined a good friend should, and Tiny seemed to appreciate it. The big ape gave him a quick thumbs up and Invidia returned the gesture, all the while feeling deeply satisfied inside.
Yessssss. Givesssss me your friendsssship!
His eye gleamed with satisfaction as he felt a brief moment of fulfilment. Of course, it faded all too quickly, leaving Invidia greedy for more. It was fine, he had only just begun to take his steps along this new path. In time, he would accumulate more and more friends, and he would help them all, and they would feel grateful towards him, and he would enjoy this sense of satisfaction all the time!
He fluttered his little wings happily as he contemplated this future. Of course, there was one being from whom he desired friendship more than any other: his Master, but Invidia had a plan, and he would be patient.
He turned his attention once more to the tunnel he and his brother were defending. The mana beyond the blue safe-zone almost seemed to boil of its own accord, as if the fifth itself rejected their presence, was enraged by the invasion. Even at the edges of his mana sense, he could feel the energy of this place writhing and drifting toward them, trying to smother this unwelcome infection before it took hold.
Deep in his pocket dimension, his brain flexed, and a hundred mind-constructions began to churn. Mana was woven at dizzying speed as he reached out and…
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions began to rock the tunnel as Invidia attacked the beasts creeping towards them. Tiny watched on, sad that he couldn't also reach out and fight.
[You will have your turnssss soon,] Invidia assured him.
The ape immediately brightened as he was comforted, and Invidia once more felt that sense of satisfaction.
After all, wasn't that what friends were for?
-x-X-x-
The influence of Solant on the organisation of the Colony is difficult to overstate. Perhaps of all the champions who arose within the Colony, her impact was the greatest, even when compared to Brilliant, or Merchant.
By our very nature, the ants of the Colony formed an effective military. Cooperative, egoless, selfless, unafraid of death, we were able to organise readily, train relentlessly, and confront our enemies with confidence and overwhelming numbers.
Solant was not satisfied with that.
She turned the Colony into a proper military. Every caste was brought into a unified command structure that made the best use of their talents, in ways no other ant had ever dreamed of. It was no longer enough to simply train, gain experience and improve levels. Endless drills, complex formations, backup plans within backup plans, contingencies, redundancies. The exhaustive drive and intellect she possessed was laser focused on one single thing: preparation.
Yes, Solant was the greatest battlefield general the Colony ever produced, but her true power and influence was in reshaping the Colony's approach to not only battle, but war.
It is due to Solant that we came to be so feared.
- Excerpt from the private notes of Historiant
Some among her closest advisors, her broodmates who she'd grown up with, considered Solant to be something of a pessimist. They all saw the wisdom in planning for the worst, but she truly seemed to expect it, which appeared excessive to them at times.
To her mind, it was only prudent. If she expected the worst, then she wouldn't be in the slightest surprised when it almost inevitably happened. Also, she wouldn't be too shocked when something even worse occurred.
So far, everything to do with the invasion of the fifth stratum had been going according to plan. According to her expectations, that meant that something awful should happen right about…
"General Solant!"
… It was difficult at times, always being correct.
"Make way for the messenger," she demanded, cool and calm as always.
The forward command post was a hive of activity, not least because it was constantly moving. As the area covered by the purified mana pushed deeper into the fifth, so too did the frontline of the invasion. As the commander, she needed to stay close to respond to any disasters as they took place. Such as now.
The many bustling ants gave way and soon a clearly stressed scout stood before her.
"There has been some form of attack!" she burst out. "Toxic mana is spreading everywhere within the safe-zones!"
What? That shouldn't be possible…
"How?" she demanded. "Has anyone identified the source?"
"Yes, general," the scout nodded her antennae frantically. "It's the vents! Those strange openings along the tunnels. They suddenly opened up and started spewing toxic mana everywhere! Some parts of the invasion force have already been cut off!"
Of course. Even worse than the worst case scenario. If the local Krath hadn't overplayed their hand so severely, this would be the perfect moment for them to have attacked….
She'd gotten lucky.
Silence fell over the post as Solant sank deep into her thoughts, considering every possibility. Those vents… The Colony had identified them during the first scouting mission but wasn't able to determine their purpose or function. Why would they open now? What had triggered this event?
It didn't matter. What mattered now was limiting the damage, preserving the strength of her troops and ensuring the invasion didn't lose momentum.
"Come with me," she ordered quietly, and led the entire command group to the model of the fifth. Even now, carvers were hard at work on it, filling in the details, shaving away at sections of rock, or adding new ones as reports came in describing the terrain of the surrounding Dungeon.
"Spread the command that every squad is to engage Shell-Epsilon tactics," she instructed.
Stop advancing, act as independent, defensive units until further orders arrived. Yet another thing they had extensively drilled.
"This command must reach every battalion and squad, regardless of the state of the tunnels. Am I understood?"
The scout nodded.
"Gather any additional scouts you require outside the command post and coordinate with the staff here. Go swiftly."
As a result of this order, several of her siblings would die, infected by the toxicity of the fifth beyond any hope of recovery. She hardened her heart. If the messages didn't get through and the troops didn't go into the trusted defensive formation, a great many more lives would be at risk.
Until the tunnels were cleansed and every inch of the safe-zone reconnected, every squad was on their own.
"Carvers, mages, up front," she ordered, and waited as those she needed crawled forward. "We have to do two things as quickly as possible. First, locate every active vent and modify the pipe network to allow intake from them. If necessary, we may need to adjust the wuffer-node layout. It will be up to each team's discretion what course of action they need to take. Second, we need to find every inactive vent, if there are any, and prepare pipe lines to each of them. If they start expelling mana, we have to be ready to siphon it away immediately."
The situation was bad, but had the potential to become so much worse.
"We have to move quickly. Go now, and send back progress reports every ten minutes."
Dozens of ants rushed away, already issuing orders as Solant stared at the model, as if trying to discern the future from the hard, cold stone.
"Leonidant," she called to her trusted broodmate, who leapt to her side in seconds. "You will go to this area and be responsible for coordinating the response."
She used her front leg to indicate the zone she meant, specifying the exact sections of tunnel at which her sibling's area of responsibility would end.
"Washingtant, I want you in charge of this section."
"Juliant, you will take this section."
"Napoleant, you take this area. Go."
Those she knew best, and who understood her mind the most, rushed to obey her commands, and Solant sat back, still thinking hard. So long as her troops were able to do as they had trained, this disaster could be overcome. She wasn't worried about that. Her mind, of course, was busy calculating a new reality. Now that this had happened, what was the new worst thing that could possibly occur? And how could she be prepared?
"Bring the Eldest to me," she instructed, "I have a task that they are not going to like."
-x-X-x-
Really. I mean really.
"You want me to what?!"
Solant clicks her mandibles irritably and my antennae twitch, but given our current crisis, I can't exactly go thwacking the general in charge over the head. The command post is positively crawling with activity as orders are given out and reports come in constantly. It's so crowded in there that Solant had to come out to speak to me since I won't fit inside!
"We have to know what is happening outside the zone of purified mana," she explains to me with all the patience she can muster, which I appreciate. "If the vents are sucking in toxic mana from nearby and venting it into our safe-zone, then the mana outside will be thinner and we will be a little safer as we deal with this crisis. But if the vents nearby are also venting toxic mana…"
"Then the mana nearby will thicken and begin to press in on us, shrinking the safe-zone."
Nards.
"Alright then, I'll get to it. Try to keep everything from falling apart while I'm out."
"Of course I will," she replies with utmost confidence. "Who do you think I am?"
An uppity little general… who I will not thwack… yet.
Leaving the command post behind, I pick my way through the crowded tunnels. Despite everything that's happening, the Colony is still racing forward with its plans. Construction is happening everywhere, even if the steady flow of supplies from above has been cut off. Soldiers race this way and that, responding to attacks on a case by case basis.
Our organisation has taken a hit, every squad of twenty ants is operating on their own, apparently, but heck, we're ants. It's not possible for us to not coordinate. One squad lays down trails toward an ongoing attack, other squads decide to follow it and help out. The main point of difference is just how defensive everyone is being, and I can understand why. Not a single ant can be lost to the Krath, and this breakdown of order would be the perfect chance….
Well, I have to trust that everyone can take care of themselves for a bit. If Solant is right about the vents we haven't reached, then things are going to get worse before they get better.
With a little luck, perhaps the nearby vents are sucking in mana and the area nearby will be a little less toxic and easier to deal with. Trying to think positive thoughts, I keep moving forward until I reach the multi-layer deep wall of ants guarding this section of tunnel from incursions.
The border between the blue and the sickly yellow/brown of the fifth is always a sight to see. Two warring forms of energy, each trying to consume the other. There's an audible fizz in the air, and my mana sense goes crazy every time I get close. Both types of mana are self replicating, making more of themselves even as they consume each other. Mana is destroyed and created at such a rapid rate, it's like a constant static noise that presses into my senses.
Nothing else for it but to stick my incredible, shiny self out into the muck and investigate.
Going back out there… isn't pleasant. We all know what it's like. I'd rather stick my antennae into a human toilet than endure this, but for the family, I'll do what needs to be done.
Also, I get a smug sense of self-satisfaction from being able to survive in this environment. Stupid fifth, thinks it can slow me down? Hah! Try your best, fifth! I'm going to walk wherever I please! Up this wall? Don't mind if I do! Upside down by those rocks over there? What's going to stop me?
Muahahahaha!
Oh right, the vents.
With a vague idea of what I'm looking for, I go exploring, but making any progress out here isn't easy. Whenever a monster spots me, they go nuts, rushing at me immediately in a frenzy. Most aren't that high a tier, but despite that, they are still born in such a mana rich environment that they have unique strengths which pose real danger to me.
The best way to deal with them that I've found is to go all out and obliterate them as fully as possible. This could take the form of an empowered Void Chomp or Dragon's Breath, right up to a weak-ish gravity bomb if the moment calls for it.
All the while, I keep my mana sense attuned, my mind-constructs constantly working. Not only to purify myself of toxic influence, but trying to check every eddy in the thick toxic sludge that is the mana of the fifth. The further out I get from the safe-zone claimed by the Colony, the more my heart sinks in my thorax.
I really don't feel like it's getting thinner out here. If anything….
I eventually manage to find a vent. First I had to cut my way through a mucus waterfall, the gunk so dense and sticky it fell at a rate of about a metre an hour.
Yuck!
I void chomped it into oblivion, and on the other side, I was able to find exactly what I was looking for. The vent appears much as I remember the others I saw. A strange, half sponge, half rock sort of thing with many holes in it.
And, most unfortunately, it is absolutely belching out toxic mana. The energy behind the mucus waterfall is so thick I can practically hear my carapace sizzle!
If this is what life is like down here during a wave, then Solant was absolutely correct to assume we wouldn't be able to survive down here while it was ongoing. We have to get that nest built, and quick!
Annoyingly, I can't even destroy this stupid thing. If I crunch it, or cover it over, will that just mean the mana will flow even thicker from the other vents? That would make the situation worse!
Well, I have my answer for Solant. I need to hurry up and get back to the Colony.
As I turn around and make my way home, one thought refuses to go away. Where the heck is all this mana coming from?
-x-X-x-
"Yessss! Look at them burn! Burn them all!"
Coolant watched as her fiery sibling unleashed her devastating magic upon the encroaching slime monsters. As she channeled her spells, Propellant herself burned red hot, flames rising from the mini-volcano on her back as she launched gobs of lava and bars of almost liquid blue fire at the creatures of the fifth.
"I would estimate that your spells are only twenty percent effective," Coolant observed in her usual, clipped, chilly tones. "Despite all of the evolutionary energy you poured into maximising your fire magic. Such a waste."
Propellant rounded on her sister, her anger flashing hot.
"What?! You're one to talk! You spent all of your energy making yourself even icier, and just how effective is your magic down here? It's even worse than mine!"
"There is a utility to water and ice magic that has yet to be fully realised," Coolant replied, clacking her mandibles dismissively.
"Hah! You think anyone in the Colony is falling for this 'it's good but we don't know how yet' line of reasoning? You're fooling yourself!"
"Jumping to conclusions? I would never have expected you to make such a rushed judgement," Coolant observed, a hint of sarcasm coming through in her pheromones.
The two sisters stared at each other, one growing colder, the other hotter, by the second. Finally, they both turned away with a huff and put some space between themselves.
"Have we eliminated everything in this section of tunnel?" Coolant asked after a moment.
"I believe so," Propellant replied, "though I did most of the work!"
Refusing to rise to the bait, Coolant merely sighed and began to focus on her more esoteric senses. It was difficult to do anything in the fifth, even to use mana sense properly. The toxicity of the fifth was so all-encompassing, everything that touched it broke down, even mana. Communicating via mind-magick was impossible through a certain amount of toxic mana. The messages became corrupted, and any bridge constructed would eventually fall apart.
It was the same principle that prevented gate travel through the stratum.
"The safe-zone is pressing back against the vent," Coolant observed, "but it'll still be some time before it's fully overcome."
"Will we ever be able to eliminate its influence completely, so long as it continues to vent?" Propellant replied, irritably.
Anything she couldn't solve with fire tended to irritate her these days. She did have a point, though. There was no way to know when the vents would stop, or if they ever would at all. This incident had set the invasion back significantly. Despite all the work that was still ongoing, the safe-zone, inevitably, was shrinking.
"We need to rejoin the others," Coolant declared, and the two turned their backs on the open tunnel and moved deeper into Colony-claimed territory. Several ranks of troops closed behind them, on high alert given the current crisis.
Not far away, they found their mage squads working feverishly. New pipes needed to be laid, the network needed to be adjusted in several places, and even small adjustments created imbalances that affected performance. Even pipes that didn't need to be moved still had to be adjusted. Until the vents stopped spewing out mana, the wuffers would have to prioritise consuming that energy above other sources.
"Have there been any changes with the vent?" Coolant asked as she arrived amongst the bustling ant mages.
"Nothing," came the swift reply. "The rate has remained steady since you left, as has the density."
No change at all. Well, it wasn't getting better, but at least it wasn't getting worse.
"Keep working on the pipe network. Coolant and I will inspect the vent again while we have the chance," Propellant growled.
"We won't have long," Coolant reminded her sister. "We need to reinforce the tunnel defence again soon."
"I know that! Come on."
The two council members moved beyond their teams, following the newly laid enchanted pipe, which moved a steady flow of corrupted mana back to the nearest wuffer node, two hundred metres away. It didn't take long for them to encounter the new, unwelcome border between the vent and the cleansed energy. Right in the middle of the tunnel, the porous rock sat, an endless stream of pure filth vomiting forth to push against the safe-zone from within.
Coolant and Propellant moved forward until they were only two-dozen metres away from it. The bubble of toxicity produced by the vent had shrunk rapidly once the pipe network had begun to siphon it away, but had stabilised at roughly this size. At least it no longer cut them off from the rest of the Colony.
"Are you sensing anything different?" Coolant asked, feeling out the vent.
"No," Propellant grouched, her carapace glowing a deep red as her ire grew. "It's just sitting there. Are you sure I can't set it on fire?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Coolant sighed. "We are under strict instructions not to harm them."
Knowing Propellant, she'd blow the thing up, opening an even wider hole that allowed an even greater flow of energy.
"Give me a minute, I'm going to see if I can sense anything."
Pushing her sibling's impatient reply from her mind, Coolant sank deep into herself, putting all of her focus into studying the energy around her. The vent changed instantly, from a strange form of rock, into the source of a dense plume of mana. There didn't seem to be any end to the flow. Wherever this mana was coming from, the source didn't seem to be running low in any way.
It was frustrating; there didn't seem to be any way to trace the energy. She could feel it rising up through the rock, but if she tried to follow it down, it began to blend into the surrounding rock before she got far at all.
How vexing!
Determined not to chase after dead ends, Coolant instead turned her attention to the plume of toxic mana itself. She examined it minutely, patiently, even as Propellant grew more and more impatient by her side.
"Are you done?" the fire mage demanded.
"Wait, can you sense that?" Coolant said suddenly.
Propellant frowned, extending her own senses. "Sense what?"
There was nothing, as far as she could tell, but there was an intensity to Coolant's scent that caused her to redouble her efforts.
"Wait for it…" Coolant muttered. "I'm sure… yes! There! Did you see that?"
"I… I think I did," Propellant said, clacking her mandibles thoughtfully. "What was that?"
There had been… a shift… in the flow coming from the vent. It had been slight. Very slight, but she had indeed detected it.
For the next several minutes, they studied the vent, examining these minute changes as they occurred and eventually determined the pattern.
"It's like… a heartbeat," Coolant realised. "It's slow, very slow, but it's just like a heartbeat."
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
"What in the name of Pangera does it mean?" Propellant wondered.
-x-X-x-
I report back to Solant, and as always, she accepts the bad news with equanimity, as if she were expecting it all along.
In any case, I'm happy enough to leave her and the rest of the boffins to work out what they want to do going forward. I mean, this is going to throw a serious wrench into our time frame, there's no way around it. Continuing to expand will be more difficult than ever, due to the thickening toxicity around us, and more dangerous than ever, as a result of the vents creating deadly pockets of death right in the heart of our territory.
I don't envy the decision makers with this one, absolutely not. The worst part is, we can't even determine what might have caused this to happen! Do the vents always do this? Is it a response to our presence in the area, or the cleansed mana we're creating? Or is this a defence system the Krath created? All of these are possible, and we don't have a way to determine which might be the true cause.
The fifth stratum is such a mystery to everyone. Those who know the most about what's going on down here are the least likely to share that knowledge with a group of monsters. Namely, the Legion. The Colony doesn't really have a choice except to slam our heads into the fifth after taking all the precautions we can.
"Try and stay still!" Mendant yells at me.
"Huh? Oh, Mendant! I didn't notice you were there. How've you been?"
"How have I been? I've been trying to heal you for the last five minutes!"
Not just Mendant, but a whole group of ten healers has been crawling on my carapace as I walk around.
"Is it really necessary for me not to move?" I ask, exasperated. "Does it make a difference?"
"It makes it easier to concentrate," Mendant replies, snapping her mandibles irritably. "Now sit down!"
"Fine…"
It's an odd sort of sensation, having a bunch of irritated medics crawling over my carapace, occasionally thwacking me with their mandibles. Do they not get enough sleep? How long are their shifts? Maybe the healers have a poor diet or something. They are persistently grumpy, it's becoming the defining trait of the entire caste.
"Give it to me straight, Mendant. How bad is it?" I ask, with more than a hint of sarcasm.
"Bad," she snaps, poking around at the base of my antennae.
"Hey, that tickles!"
"You've been regenerating yourself over and over again in such a short span of time. The wounds haven't even healed the first time before more regeneration fluid is applied. Even for a monster, there are limits to how hard you can push your body."
"There are?" I say, surprised. "I thought I could just heal forever."
"Well, you can't! Not without repercussions."
"Such as?"
"Such as weakening the damaged areas of your body over time."
Oh no! Not my precious carapace!
"You were worried about your carapace, weren't you?"
"Uh… maybe?"
"How about the more delicate and sensitive parts of your body? Like your eyes and antennae?!"
"Well, those too, obviously."
She crawls up to my head and starts poking my carapace right between my eyes.
"Look, you don't listen to us at the best of times, and this isn't the best of times, but you had better pay attention. You need to give yourself time to heal properly. If you keep rapidly regenerating yourself like this, I believe it will cause problems down the line."
Well, that's annoying.
"How long is it going to take? In case you haven't noticed, we have something of an emergency going on here, Mendant!"
"You think it's going to get better if you find yourself weakened? Don't underestimate the effects of this place! You seem to be forgetting just how bad it is since you can survive out there for a while. Without regularly cleansing yourself of every single speck of toxin, you too would die. Give it half a day for your body to heal up, eat something, store up some Biomass. Only then should you go back out there."
This couldn't have come at a worse time, but I'm not going to knock back the doctor's orders.
"Alright then, Mendant. I'll do as you say."
"... You will?" she asks suspiciously. "No argument? No tricks? No sneaky tactics?"
I clack my mandibles in irritation.
"No. Just how bad is the attitude you get from your regular patients?"
"Terrible. They're ants. Most of the time, they think taking time to heal themselves is being selfish, and they do everything they can to get out of it."
That might help explain why the healers are always so irritated.
"I'll try and spread the word. Everyone should listen to the healers when it comes to getting better. Not doing as you say is putting themselves and everyone else at risk."
"I would… appreciate that, Eldest."
For once, she doesn't sound completely irritated, but even then, there is still a grumpy aura hovering over her that never seems to dissipate.
I do as ordered and plonk myself down until the healers are done picking over my carapace, inspecting every inch and making sure I didn't have a speck of toxic mana remaining. Only when I have the all clear do I get back up and start moving through the safe-zone once more. Of course, my mind-constructs have been constantly on the hunt for invading mana, but getting the all-clear from a full team of specialists is certainly a weight off my mind.
With nothing much else to do, I go looking for the gang. I know the three of them are fine. We've been talking when we can, and they've been busy, helping the Colony and holding the defensive line, taking the pressure off of my siblings. Fortunately, they've managed to group together after several sections have been reconnected and I find them sitting together, resting and consuming Biomass.
[Hey there, everyone! How are you—]
I don't get any further before Crinis glomps onto my carapace and vanishes into my shadow.
[Ack! Dammit, Crinis! You can stay in the shadow, but no creeping inside my body. That's an order!]
[... Fine.]
You mean you actually were going to do it?!
She's been getting more open and honest about her desires lately, which is a good thing compared to how she was before, but if I'm honest, it's starting to scare me.
-x-X-x-
Despite all the work the Colony has put in, there are still several sections of our territory that have been cut off. I go and inspect a few of the vents myself, and the pipes are doing a good job syphoning the energy away and feeding it to the wuffers.
The problem is, if the wuffers are happily munching away on the toxic energy from the vents, then they aren't eating it from outside the safe-zone and expanding our turf. Naturally, this means our controlled area is starting to shrink.
To make matters worse, the vents outside of our turf are thickening up the mana all around us, which is creating even more pressure on the wuffers and shrinking our controlled area even further. The Colony is scrambling to hold the line, but that line is constantly getting pushed in.
[Tiny, Invidia, how have you two been doing? You've behaved yourself, Tiny?]
[We havessss been doing wellsssss. My brother hassss been very safesssss.]
Well, Invidia says so, but it isn't like I miss the subtle thumbs up they give each other when they think I can't see. I should probably clarify. Invidia gives a subtle thumbs up. Tiny gives a massive, broad grin as he clumsily tries to shield his hand with his body and waggles his brows.
It's clear that they aren't being completely honest with me, but I can't bring myself to criticise them after such a wholesome display.
[How about you, Crinis? Everything been alright?]
[Yes, Master! I've been provided enough Biomass to regenerate my Darkness Flesh, so I'm in top condition.]
Well, that's positive. It's good to know that the three of them have been able to do their job and have been getting taken care of by the Colony. The real question we face is, what are we supposed to do now? We don't have any direct orders for this situation, despite all the contingencies that Solant has built into our instructions.
It's frustrating, but there isn't much we can do to help the safe-zone situation. The mages and carvers are doing all they can to work on and maintain the pipe-network, the wuffers are munching away on toxic mana as fast as they can, and we can't influence the vents in any way.
I'm not used to feeling this helpless to influence the fate of the Colony. It's incredibly frustrating!
[What's bothering you, Master?] Crinis asks.
[Huh? Is something showing on my face?]
That can't be right, I don't really have a face!
[You just seem a little… dispirited.]
Well, that's completely true. I am.
[I'm just not sure what I can do to be useful right now. These stupid vents have put the Colony in a holding pattern, and I'm under doctor's orders to stay in the safe-zone. There doesn't seem to be anything positive I can do.]
[If you can defend the tunnels, that will take pressure off the rest of your family and help them focus on their tasks. That's helpful.]
[Yeah,] I sigh. [That's true, but it doesn't improve our situation. Feels more like treading water.]
[Sometimes you have to do what you can do and leave some responsibility to others, Master.]
Hah! I'm the king of leaving responsibility to others. I created the Council specifically for that purpose! However, ever since I selected the Altar of Self, I'd expected I'd be able to push myself forward and solve problems for my family.
[You're right, Crinis,] I say, defeated. [There's nothing to do but go defend the tunnels and hope our situation improves. Tiny, Invidia, are you two happy to keep working together?]
The two exchange looks before I get an approving flex from Tiny. Not wanting to be left out, Invidia does his best to pose, but his arms are so stick-thin I can't even tell if he has biceps, let alone if they're flexed. He gets an approving nod from Tiny, so I suppose he's doing something right.
Wait, have those two practised this?!
[Crinis, you're with me. Let's go take our frustrations out on some disgusting mucus monsters.]
[Gladly!]
She sounds way too excited to be doing this, but then again, Crinis has always been enthusiastic about two things: being around me, and killing monsters.
With my loyal shadow once more hitching a ride in my shadow and hopefully not invading my carapace on the sly, I part ways with the dynamic duo and head out to find a vulnerable section of tunnel. Even now, there are still a few spots that have been cut off from the rest of the Colony, but with every minute that passes, they are getting closer to being reconnected. Thankfully, all they need to do is stay close to their wuffer nodes to ensure they have at least some area of protection.
Antennae waggling, I read the various trails that have been put down until I find one that seems fairly urgent. I follow it until we reach an extremely wide section of tunnel with a thinner than usual battle line facing outwards. I can already tell that the safe-zone is shrinking here, since there are areas that have clearly been worked on by the carvers starting to erode under the influence of the toxic mana.
"Go and reinforce another area," I instruct the general in charge once I figure out where they are. "I'll hold this down."
"Can you cover the entire tunnel yourself, Eldest?" the general asks. "This is particularly wide. I can leave a few hundred ants to help if you need."
"I'm not by myself," I assure her, pointing an antenna down toward my shadow. "We'll be fine."
"Right you are, Eldest. Work hard."
"Back at ya."
I plonk myself down in the middle of the tunnel and start weaving mana as the ants gather themselves to retreat and redeploy elsewhere.
[Alright, Crinis, let's take care of business here.]
[Of course, Master!]
It isn't exactly what I was hoping for, but at least I'm helping. Lousy fifth stratum. You're fighting back, but it isn't going to be enough!
-x-X-x-
"I told you I could make you the next Krath'lath," Goszi spat. "All we needed was for the Slee tribe to be brought right to the edge of extinction."
Zluth eyed the older Krath, one of his stalks turning to track the slug.
"Are you regretting the bargain?" Zluth asked.
Goszi burbled out a harsh laugh, his voice sounding as if it were rising through a dense bog.
"Of course not. The last Krath'lath was a disaster. All fury, no cunning. She was good at bullying cowards and cultivating acid, not acceptable traits for a leader."
She certainly had managed to cultivate a potent acid for herself. Even now, Zluth felt it searing through his flesh as he attempted to blend it with his own. He hadn't been able to consume much of the fallen leader, nobody had, but even a little had been enough to take some of her strength.
"The real issue I have is making sure the new Krath'lath doesn't throw me aside now that I've done my bit," Goszi said, a sly tone creeping into his voice.
Zluth's eyes narrowed.
"Are you saying I would go back on my word? Betray my part of the agreement?"
"If you wouldn't, then you aren't the Krath I thought you were," came the contemptuous reply.
Of course, Zluth had fully intended to betray Goszi. Although his help in securing the leadership had been useful, the old slug now had nothing to offer. In fact, given the desperate situation of the Slee, having an older, weaker member taking resources from those who could better utilise them was making their survival less likely.
Making Zluth's survival less likely.
He couldn't have that.
"I will admit, Goszi, I called you out here to give you the choice. You helped me unseat the Krath'lath, so I won't consume you on the spot. You can either detonate your acid gland and end yourself, or choose exile in the swamps. Perhaps I might have been able to justify keeping you alive if we were still holed up in the Slimegrounds, but now we are nomads without a home."
"Don't talk nonsense. You would have killed me anyway," Goszi stated with utmost confidence, and Zluth nodded his confirmation. "This is exactly the type of leadership we needed all along. However, I think it's important you reconsider your position."
Zluth's eyes curved into wicked moons as he turned both stalks on the other Krath.
"I thought you might…."
The two were isolated from the rest of the tribe, who were resting in an air pocket beneath a yellow mucus river. It had been a difficult journey, staying ahead of the invasion and its cursed, lethal blue mana, while also avoiding the many dangers of the fifth. Zluth had taken on dangerous scouting duties time and time again to ensure his people made it through safely, helping to secure his position as Krath'lath.
Goszi had to have known what was happening the moment the new tribe leader had asked him to slide out, away from the group. Now Zluth was interested to hear what the crafty old slug had in mind to keep himself alive.
"Since I may be dead anyway, is there any chance you might reveal where you intend to take the tribe?" Goszi asked.
Zluth shook his head. He wouldn't reveal anything if he didn't have to, and right now, he didn't.
"Hmph," Goszi burbled, "I thought as much. Very well, I will lay my moss out on the table. I know how to find the Slimegrounds of the Suggoth tribe. What's more, I know where to find their old Slimegrounds, which they abandoned after they destroyed the Zzith."
Zluth was taken aback.
"How could you possibly know that?" he demanded, the anger beginning to sizzle in his flesh. "Are you trying to trick your way into surviving for another few days? Another week? So you can try to raise up another leader in my place?"
"The tribe won't change leader, not now," Gozsi spat derisively. "It would be as good as condemning all of us to death. And as for the reason I know this, it's because I myself was a member of the Zzith before I fled and joined the Slee."
Trying to tamp down his anger, Zluth calculated the time based on what he knew of local history. It seemed to check out. It was possible Gozsi had abandoned his tribe shortly before they were destroyed.
"That would explain why you know the location of the Suggoth's current Slimeground, assuming they usurped the Zzith's old haven, but their old one? Did the Zzith really know the location of their rival's home?"
Goszi smiled a slow, wide smile.
"In truth, it was the Zzith who initiated the conflict. We flooded their egg chambers with acid, burning their young into soup. It was a powerful strike, but we hadn't anticipated just how hard the Suggoth would strike back, nor did we realise they'd found the Slimeground. It was over in just a few days."
The story sounded compelling, but there were details missing. How had Goszi, the wiley old slug, known the Suggoth would win the conflict?
"You sold them out, didn't you? You were the one who revealed the location of the Zzith Slimegrounds in order to bargain for your escape."
Goszi revealed his needle-pointed teeth in a savage grin.
"The Zzith were complacent. I knew they would lose eventually, so I merely hastened their demise and ensured my own survival in the process."
And now he had an in with the Suggoth, which Zluth would need in order to raise the alarm about the impending invasion….
"Well done, Goszi," he said, "you have managed to survive yet again."
"It's what I do," the old slug replied. "It's very hard to kill old Goszi."
-x-X-x-
How do the Krath regard each other? There's a very simple answer to that question: we don't know.
As far as the Magio-Scholars of the Tower are aware, there has never been a successful capture and interrogation of a Krath. Not even a cursory mind reading, since such things are impossible to perform through the mana of the fifth, which degrades everything that attempts to move through it, even magic.
As violent and as brutal as they are, we have to imagine that the Krath treat each other somewhat poorly. It's difficult to imagine the Krath engaging in trade, for example, where trust and equivalent exchange are necessary for the practice to flourish.
However, one truth must be considered above all others: in the most hostile environment in the Dungeon, the Krath not only survive, but thrive.
Surely this wouldn't be possible without some level of cooperation between them.
- Excerpt from 'The Savage Tribes," By Magio Scholar Erinus.
"You were actually telling the truth," Zluth grunted before spitting a dark glob of acid onto the stone floor. It sizzled pleasantly, emitting a thick, acrid smoke that tickled the Krath.
"If you don't tell the truth every now and again, no one will ever believe your lies," Goszi said wisely, his eyes betraying his glee.
"Are you that pleased, you old slug?" Zluth said.
"Of course. I get to live, after all. Gugugugugugug!"
Chortling away, Goszi moved away to claim a space for himself before the best homes could be taken.
Despite the length of time the Slimeground had been unoccupied, it was in surprisingly good condition, no doubt due to the cunning location the Suggoth had chosen to build it. Despite being relatively in the open, the entrance had been woven into the fold of the tunnel so well it had been almost invisible, an opening only ten centimetres across, just enough for a full-sized adult Krath to squeeze through. Then, winding tunnels concealed the cavern within behind dozens of metres of thick rock.
Even Zluth had to admit it was clever.
"Krath'lath," a voice called, and Zluth tried to conceal the moment it took to recognise they were speaking to him by turning slowly to face them, with dignity.
"Trissith, what seems to be the problem?" he asked.
A young Krath, but full of hunger and ambition, as all Krath should be, Trissith had been acting under him as part of the scouts.
"The Slimeground appears to be secure, Krath'lath," she reported, her voice bubbling savagely.
"And what of the captives?"
"They've been secured, as you instructed."
"Good. I want guards on rotation at the entrance; we can't afford to be careless."
"Very well, Krath'lath."
"Where is Jozish?"
"I am here, Krath'lath."
"Find the beast pits and try to take stock of the pittance we have left."
The beast tamer practically bubbled with the depths of her fury.
"It will take years for us to replenish our stock," she hissed. "We barely have anything left."
"Our previous leader was foolish in the extreme. Remember who it is that is trying to save us."
Jozish was a brutal and merciless Krath if ever there was one. She'd wrangle together whatever Blubbeasts and monsters the tribe had left and start from scratch.
"We need meat. The beasts we have left are starved and weak, and our stockpiles are gone," Jozish warned. "It'll be days until we get any meaningful food out of them."
"Hunters have already been sent out to secure Biomass for the beasts, don't worry about that. It won't be long until you have something to feed them with."
"Our hunting grounds are lost too," the surly beast tamer growled. "What are we even going to be able to get?"
"Whatever the hunters bring back will have to do," Zluth stated harshly. "Your job is to tend to the beasts, and I suggest you go do it."
Processing Biomass into useable food for the Krath was merely one responsibility of the Blubbeasts, but it was an important one. With their mould gardens gone, and no harvestable food left here in this Slimeground, the Slee would be hungry for the next while until they were able to reestablish themselves.
Still fuming, Jozish slid away, visibly struggling to contain her rage. The former Krath'lath had used her size and strength to dominate unruly members of the tribe like the beast tamer. Zluth would have to find another way, but he had no doubt he would succeed.
In the meantime, Zluth made his way over to the egg pond. Unused for many years, now it was filled with captured Krath, squashed down to the point they were barely able to fit beneath the slicing wires fitted above them. There were three down there, watchers assigned by the Suggoth tribe to keep tabs on their old home.
"It's unfortunate that you happened to be here when we arrived," Zluth stated the obvious, "and it's even more unfortunate that we only need one of you to send a message back to the Suggoth. A message of dire importance, regarding an invasion of the fifth."
Six eye stalks swivelled quickly, moving from each other, back to Zluth, then back to each other.
"So," the new Krath'lath of the Slee tribe grinned, "who's it going to be?"
-x-X-x-
Neutral ground in the fifth wasn't really something the Krath did. The tribes were always at war, and meetings between them were always tense affairs. No tribe wanted to reveal the location of their Slimegrounds, so the open tunnels were the preferred place to come together. However, the open tunnels were the most treacherous locations, filled with danger and perfectly ripe for ambush.
"Are you sure they aren't surrounding us?" Goszi muttered softly.
"Shut up, you're going to give us away," Zluth hissed softly.
The two were pressed down as flat as they could go, their eye stalks extending only a little into the air to see what was coming.
They were as hidden as they could be, but even so, Zluth felt uneasy. Knowing what was coming, how could he not be?
"Any sign of them?"
"For the last time, shut up or I will eat you on the spot, stealth be damned!"
Gozsi finally subsided, grumbling and sizzling to himself. The old slug was especially nervous. Not as fast as he used to be, he'd be a sitting duck caught out here.
If the Suggoth tribe decided to kill them, then he was as good as dead.
Zluth, however, was confident. News of an invasion of the fifth would grab the attention of any Krath. It would do more than that, it would boil the acid inside their flesh, driving them into a rage. If there was one thing the Krath hated more than each other, it was outsiders inside their stratum.
The air was thick with dense mana; the stratum was breathing, an auspicious sign.
The two Krath remained hidden, protected as well as they could be as the monstrous life native to the fifth moved around them. This section of tunnel was busy, filled with nourishing slime and mucus, which allowed a rich variety of monsters to flourish.
It was hours before they saw any sign of the Suggoth. A subtle shift of colour in one of the mould beds, followed by a faint glinting of light, almost imperceptible.
The agreed upon signal.
"Goszi, they're here," Zluth hissed.
The two members of the Slee tribe made their way down toward the mould with extreme caution. At any moment, Goszi feared a dozen fearsome Suggoth warriors would leap at them from amongst the mucus strands, but no such attack came.
When they were still ten metres apart, the two sides beheld each other. The Suggoth had sent four members, safety in numbers, despite pledging to bring only three. It wasn't unexpected.
For several long moments, six pairs of eyes extending up just a few inches from the mould watched each other suspiciously. Nearby, the monsters of the fifth went about their business, unaware of the well-concealed Krath in their midst.
It was Zluth who broke the silence, uncompressing himself just enough to free his mouth so he could speak.
"Welcome, brothers and sisters of the Suggoth tribe."
"You welcome us to our hunting grounds?" one of the Krath burbled harshly. "Speak quickly, Slee, or we will annihilate you on the spot."
That they hadn't already done so was a good sign to Zluth. Clearly, they were willing to listen.
"The Slee tribe has lost its Slimeground; this is the reason why we have been forced to come here. Before you ask, no, we were not defeated by another tribe, but displaced by an invasion from above."
The four Suggoth slugs trembled in rage at the mere mention of such an affront.
"Who would dare to invade the fifth? Haven't we punished the previous attempts harshly enough?" one spat.
"The answer is surprising," Zluth burbled maliciously.
"Then who? Who is it?"
"Everyone. The humans, the golgari, the ka'armodo, the Folk, the trees, all of them together. And they are using a species of monster they crafted as the vanguard. An enormous colony of ants."
As he spoke, the other Krath grew so incensed they began to sizzle and pop, the rage igniting the acid in their flesh.
"We will need to confirm your words," one strangled out.
"Of course. If you head towards the old Slee territory, you cannot fail to find them. A word of warning: they are spreading a bubble of blue mana to protect themselves, and it is deadly to any native of the fifth. Do not get close to it."
The four Krath absorbed his words, taking a moment to calm their rage. If they exposed themselves here, they would die to the monsters, an embarrassing end for a member of the slug tribes.
"If what you say is true…" one gurgled, "then your presence in our territory will be forgiven for now."
"Of course, the Slee would be more than happy to return to our own Slimegrounds once the invaders have been purged," Zluth replied smoothly.
The Suggoth were in a difficult position. They would like nothing more than to annihilate the Slee, but if they were found attacking another tribe during an invasion, the other tribes would surely annihilate them.
However, that was only if they were caught.
Four sets of eyes watched him carefully, weighing his words.
"We will assess the truth of what you've said, then we'll return to speak to you again," one stated finally.
"Good," Zluth said. "Soon, we will need to work together against a common foe."
"That remains to be seen."
With the conversation concluded, both sides compressed themselves back down and slowly moved away from each other, making sure to keep watch the entire time.
"That went surprisingly well," Goszi noted. "Why did you have to drag me out here for this? I'm too old to be out in the tunnels like this."
"I don't want you to feel safe," Zluth replied as they continued to creep away from the meeting site. "And someone else needs to be a witness in case something happens to me. Someone who would never be chosen to replace me as Krath'lath."
"Good point," Goszi observed sourly.
Zluth was well pleased with how things had gone. When the Suggoth had confirmed the invasion, the tribes would gather, and the full might of the Krath would be pitted against those from above. It would be a glorious purge, with much to be won, and he intended to be right at the forefront.
-x-X-x-
Solant had built her entire campaign around one central principle: adaptability. The fifth was an unknown quantity. Who could say what the Krath were capable of, or what conditions may arise down there?
That didn't mean playing it safe, moving slow, absolutely not. That approach would only give their enemies time, time to gather and organise, time to muster their forces. If the Colony didn't establish an impregnable clawhold within the fifth before that happened, all would be lost.
Strike hard, strike fast, and adapt to whatever came their way. The vents had caused enormous headaches to the invasion, and ground their expansion to a halt, but that didn't mean that progress would stop too.
"Do we have an update from this section of tunnel in quadrant seventeen?"
"Scout came in a few minutes ago, general, the gap has widened, but hasn't been opened completely."
"Is it wide enough for the soldiers to get through?"
This was the key question.
"Y… yes it is, general. Just."
"That's enough. Send word to cease work on that section of tunnel. We don't need to eliminate the pocket created by the vent, we just need to be able to get around it."
Scouts ran to deliver her instructions as Solant fell into silent contemplation, staring at the model of the surrounding territory. It wasn't even the tunnels and intersections she was looking at, but something deeper, something larger. She was trying to sense the ebb and flow of the campaign, to see what was, and imagine what could be.
Many options were considered, but after examining each with due care, she dismissed all but one.
"Send orders to all quadrants. Order ** is cancelled, we return to standard organisation, and begin operation Happy Meal."
"That's much earlier than planned," Leonidant observed from nearby.
"The situation has changed," Solant said simply.
And it had, of course it had, but they had to make the most of a difficult situation.
"I authorise the use of the blue lure method as well," she stated.
More runners dashed away to deliver the orders, and Solant settled back to contemplate the model once more. Given their current plight, this was perhaps the best they could do. For the time being, they were in a holding pattern. Construction continued on the fortified nest, of course, and the build teams had adjusted to the new schedule brilliantly, as should be expected from them.
Operation Happy Meal was something they would have always needed to do, so it wasn't as though time was being wasted.
"Leonidant, have we identified the monsters we should be targeting?"
"We have several prime candidates, general. Slime Elementals and Alchemy Sludge monsters seem to be the best candidates to feed through the pipes. Smaller parasitic monsters are also suitable, such as the Pulsing Mindrot or the False-Friend Maggot."
Even Solant couldn't help but wave her antennae a little in disgust.
"Vemiculus Amicus Falsus," she clacked her mandibles with distaste. This stratum really was a distasteful place, to harbour such creatures. "What of the feeding apparatuses? Have they been assembled?"
"Everything is ready, general. Your orders came at the perfect moment," Leonidant assured her.
Feeding the happy little pets that were the wuffers was an important component of the invasion. Making more wuffers was one way to combat the contamination of the fifth, but strengthening the ones they already had was another. It had already been proven that the wuffers could level up by 'purifying' and consuming monsters fed to them through the pipe network; the trick was actually finding prey they could use in this way.
The second trick, of course, was getting them into the pipes without letting them touch the blue mana, which would instantly begin disintegrating any fifth stratum monster.
As her orders were distributed throughout the safe-zone, the ants began preparing for the difficult task ahead. Teams were formed, lures were prepared, the carvers ensured the pipe networks were ready and up to the task.
Then the hunting began.
In many ways, Solant likened the strategy more to the human pastime of fishing, as opposed to hunting. Specially prepared spheres, each enchanted to hold mana within them, were carefully charged with purified mana, then launched hundreds of metres out onto the contaminated tunnels. The enchantments prevented the external energy from mixing with the internal, so the little ball filled with blue mana just sat there on the rock floor, seemingly uninteresting.
But to the monsters of the fifth, that faint wisp of foreign energy was enough to drive them into a blind rage, and send them hurtling towards the source. As soon as the ants had a 'bite', they would pull back the lure, using the thin, enchanted chain attached to it, dragging the monster closer to the safe-zone. Once the beast locked onto the greater source of (in its eyes) contamination, it disregarded the lure and charged headlong toward the waiting formation of ants.
Then, the mages stepped forward, weaving powerful spells of binding, and the soldiers deployed their weaponry, engineered for this very purpose.
The maddened monsters of the fifth were greeted with a barrage of magic that both damaged them and locked them in place, either by trapping their feet in the stone floor, solidifying the air around them, or capturing them whole in ice. Then came the spears, propelled from iron launching tubes that Brilliant had designed. They delivered enchanted payloads straight into the beasts, paralysing the monsters so that the ants could continue their grisly work.
If a target was suitable for wuffer consumption, the manipulators were brought forward, huge contraptions of string and pulleys, designed to stuff the monster into the waiting pipe-network entrance.
If not, it was quickly destroyed and the core harvested. Then the lure was prepared once more.
Within the captured territory, there were twelve separate hunting grounds… or fishing spots, and each was extremely busy. On their specially constructed pads, the wuffers happily wibbled and wobbled, very much enjoying the meals they were being served.