The upper reaches were more disheveled than previous sights. Now outright rock cave ins blocked many of the tunnels forward. I didn’t know if the further up we went the less mites would travel around to repair damage, but it certainly looked like time had done a number to this place.

Large scratches and gouges above the rock cave ins pointed a picture of older fights that must have once raged around here. I even spotted a few metal spikes, the same kind that those barnacle turrets had fired out from the ceiling.

These obstacles slowed down our progress greatly, often forcing us to backtrack once we’d reach dead ends. We stopped only once on the run for a break. The initial flask of water I’d split between us hours ago had run dry. Fortunately we found a river in one of the tunnels we jogged through.

I peered at the slowly flowing water. Under the ice layer, lights showed, illuminating the whole trickle with a pale almost magical dim teal glow.

Father punched the protective cap of ice on the river, cracking off a chunk. Then he dipped his water reservoir into it, filling the item up quickly.

I unhooked Cathida’s old flask reservoir and followed suit, filling up after Father had gotten his own done. It was extremely cool to drink and made for a good refreshment compared to the stale water I’d been carrying all this time.

“I almost can’t believe we’re close to the end of all this.” I breathed out, sitting by the stream. The scanner showed only one point two clicks left. The winding tunnels and frequent cave-ins would stretch that out, but soon it would be all said and done.

“Keep your wits about you, boy. We’re not out yet.”

“Of course Father, I’m not about to drop my guard after all we’ve been through.”

I took another long drink from the straw, then we stood back up and continued our way. The pace we set was brisk and could be maintained for a long time, even with my calf being wounded as is.

There was still something on my mind. I’d been pushing it back, but that was no way to handle issues. “What did Atius mean by psychosis?”

“It is no longer anything to concern yourself with. We’re hours away from reaching the rescue party.” He said, continuing his pace and not looking back.

“Don’t lie to me. Not after all this.”

He paused, as if considering whether to let me in the loop or not. “As the booster continues its effects, my mind will… break down, in a manner of speaking. Again, there isn’t cause for concern. Once we reach the rescue party, they'll induce a coma to put a stopgap halt in the effects. I’ll have my blood manually cleared using that dialysis machine. All airspeeders have one. The recovery process can take a week.”

“What sort of breakdown are we talking about, in specifics?” I asked testily.

“Lucidity starts to fade at the early stages. At that point, I’ll become erratic. Hallucinations come next after several more hours, usually a mix of auditory and visual. Paranoia and aggression set in after. Near the end stages I’ll stop being able to recognize people. At that point, I become a danger to you or anyone around me. I was prepared to handle it when the first symptoms started showing. I know how much time I have before effects become more than my will alone can handle.”

This would have been handy to know. ‘Oh hey son, by the way in a few hours I might go beserk and murder you in under a second.’ Rage instantly churned inside, lit by panic.

“Why did you keep this from me?!” I yelled. This wasn’t the first time either so far. “Again and again, you hold off on information until you have no choice but to tell me. The same with your arm! What’s going on? Why are you like this?”

Father ground out, “It was for the best.”

“The best? What gods damned reason do you have?”

"I don't have to explain anything to you, boy." There was that note of anger in his voice, matching my own. Seems to run in the family.

"It's you and me down here, and we've both got relic armor. I'm not some charge you have to escort anymore." I said. "We need to work together, and this whole cloak and dagger scrapshit isn't helping anything."

“Fine. You want my reason?” He turned to stare me down, the jog completely forgotten.“You’re a boy," His finger jabbed out against my armor plate, pressing the point. "Placed in a situation that would break most men. You needed to feel that someone was in control, that there was some hope for survival. Do you get that? Or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Maybe you missed the cue," I shot back, pushing his hand away, "I fucking grew up while you were passed out on vodka each day, Father.” The moment I’d said that, regret hit me hard. But the venom had already been speared out.

If he was hurt by the comment, he made no mention of it. “I’ve seen others break down for less.” He said. “And they were adults trained for situations like this one. Soldiers. The more I told you about the reality of our situation, the more hopeless it would all seem. That could break you.”

“It didn’t! Look at me, I’m still fine after hearing all of it! Unless there’s even more ratshit you’re keeping from me again?”

“You’re fine now, only after getting the relic armor. This was what truly gave us a chance. Everything seems possible now because of that armor. You would have broken down otherwise.”

“You can’t know that.”

Father snarled, rounding on me. Hands shot out for my collar on reflex, but instead his gauntlets simply collided with my own armor. Journey remained fixed in position, utterly unmoving against the grab. We both stared at each other in confusion.

The roles and rules between us had been changed, now that we both had armor. I was a relic knight. He would never again be able to just grab and slam me on the ground. I think he realized this chapter of our lives had come to an end at just the same moment I had.

He took a step back, turning around to continue down the path. I heard him over comms, his voice soft this time, all fire gone. “It broke me, Keith. I didn’t believe we would live. And if it made me give in, what would it have done to you? Understand, damn you.”

That... couldn’t be true. My mind reeled away from the implication. “But you kept fighting,” I said, “I didn’t see you didn’t give up. You never gave up.”

There’s no way someone like Father just broke.

He chuckled at that, a deep throaty thing. “It was easy to keep going with no future in sight. I’m well practiced.” Then he stopped in his tracks, turning to look at me again. “Keith, what are the virtues of the gods?”

Urs. Talen. Tsuya.

“Resolve, tenacity, resilience.” I said.

“They’re our gods for a reason. We were exiled from the underground, just as the gods were exiled from the surface. Do you see? These are the values they represent because they are us, they struggle like we do each day. Even if I give up, I still fight to the end, as all Exodites should. Even if that end comes at the tip of my own weapon. This is even more important to a relic knight above all. We swore a vow to our house. To our clan. You need to accept what we are.”

He turned and continued down the cavern. I followed behind. We were quiet for a long time after, jogging through the unending tunnels. Chasing after something we didn’t quite understand.

“I don’t get it.” I finally said. “Why pick now, of all times, to grow a heart? Why go out of your way to protect me like this? If you knew trying to keep me alive was doomed to fail, then the next priority would have been to return home yourself.”

“I was ordered to keep you sa-”

“Cut the scrapshit." If duty and honor mattered to him that strongly, it would matter over family for sure. "The armor can’t be lost down here. Duty would compel you to take the strongest possible measures to reach the surface alive, or at least alive enough to return that armor for House Winterscar to continue, even if that meant leaving me behind. One life is meaningless compared to Winterscar. So why did you come back for me? You knew I’d be dead weight at best.”

From a purely numbers point of view, outright losing an entire House was less painful then losing an armor. Winterscar could be folded into another House. It was his duty to make sure that armor made it back home.

Father sputtered. “I - That wouldn’t be-- it…” He grew more quiet. “It was the right thing to do.” He didn’t sound convinced himself, as if this answer was just as much a lie to me as it was a lie to himself, and he knew it. Sacrifice had a lot of meanings, not all of them about losing your life. He busied himself instead by making his way to the end of the tunnel rather than give me a more straight answer.

A familiar whistling sound struck the rocks above us just as we passed by the entrance, cutting off whatever his next answer could have been.

In hindsight I should have considered something about these green lit tunnels. These predictable green lit tunnels.

We didn’t realize we’d walked into an ambush until it was far too late to do anything about it.

Inside this pocket we found ourselves on the wall of a chasm. Concrete bridges spanned across the chasm gap, long in the distance. But here, there was only one thin bridge possible.

The metal spike whistled above, striking the entryway we’d come from. I spun around, only to witness the trap spring shut.

The path caved in.

Exactly like all the other cave-ins that had blocked our path. The entry had been whittled away previously, unstable enough that one hit would send it all crashing.

With the way behind us blocked, the only way forward was across a narrow bridge. I saw that our side of the chasm had been meticulously cleared of any rock cover possible.

We’d been funneled into a trap.

Our friend here didn’t know where we’d gone, but it knew we were going up. While we had been spending time with the dead imperials or yelling at one another, it hadn’t forgotten. And it had been busy planning out revenge.

One single automaton hung from the ceiling. Missing one leg, armor riddled with bullets. With a barnacle turret jury rigged onto its shell.

The spider cackled darkly. The barnacle turret simply turned and opened fire.

Father’s reaction speed was impressive, but the spider’s was even quicker. It already lifted its front legs, blue shield activating and protecting the vulnerable barnacle as Father traded weapon fires with the turret.

The bullets had no effect on the spider’s shield, but the spike certainly did on the relic armor. His shield flared out, taking the hit.

Father halted fire, not wanting to waste bullets on a target that was clearly invulnerable.

“Keith! Sprint for the tunnel!” He shouted and began his own mad dash across the bridge. Without any means of dealing damage at range, the spider could just whittle us to pieces over time. We had to get out.

That plan was quickly cut short as the spider dropped right on the center, guarding the way out against Father’s charge. Two limbs shot out at the incoming relic knight, forcing him to dive away and backtrack. Another spike flew at him and struck him on the chest, forcing him further back in a spark of blue shielding.

It was clear we weren’t going to be able to make it past the automaton without a fight. “Any other ideas?” I shot out at him.

“Just one.” He growled, drawing out his knife with his left hand, flipping the blade hilt down while he unsheathed the imperial longsword in his main hand. He ducked another spike, and rose back up in a full Ki-alor stance, a style that maximized the reach of a longsword with the close quarter ability of a knife. A stance that required both arms to work in perfect unity.

His left arm took to the stance with perfect pose. He waited for the next spike to fly at him, twisting around and charging forward the moment it sailed by.

I reached down and drew out my own knife then followed behind wordlessly, the relic armor transfering my movements smoothly. Father raced ahead and slid down, an attacking limb missing over his head. The creature didn’t let that failure discourage it. It struck back violently with more limbs, keeping Father busy.

In seconds I had made my own way into range and then promptly got sent flying from the creature’s first swing. The thing struck as fast as a pipe snake, my reactions couldn’t keep up. One moment I was about to reach it, and the next moment a massive limb obscured my whole vision.

Father on the other hand was in a completely different league of skill compared to mine. And this time he had no disadvantages to deal with. He dodged and twirled against those lightning hits. Attacks were weaved with each dodge, and all were vicious.

After a roll and a half, I slid to a stop on my knees, thankfully away from the edge of the chasm.

As if to add insult, I was hit by a metal spike as a parting gift the moment I lifted my head back up. Journey’s shields flared hard, holding fast against the direct hit. The blow still knocked my head backwards, and threw me onto my back. I could see it already lining up the next shot from the corner of my eye.

The barnacle couldn’t target Father easily since the madman was far too close. So it went after the next best target.

Me.

- No plan survives contact with the enemy