Sláine ran, and she did not stop for anything.

She had mixed feelings about all this. Leaving her partner behind was undesirable, a thrumming anxiety that prickled at the back of her mind. Yes, she had the uncanny ability to disappear, could climb up walls, probably could teleport and had insisted quite firmly that she would be fine on her own, but still… anything could happen, and the mental image of returning to find the woman’s corpse made her uneasy.

She did not, at this point, realize the inherent irony given that she’d ditched Red before mere hours prior. Emotional intelligence or self-analysis was not one of Sláine’s strong suits, and besides, she was a dog on the hunt. Everything else fell away before that fundamental truth.

The guardians formed a blockade across the corridor, thick bodies pressed against each other and mouths gaping as poisoned spittle dripped from their teeth. Lingering by their feet, Sláine noticed the slender forms of a few assassin-type tunnel mites, and sparing a glance upwards, she spotted more lurking on the ceiling. Slow her down with the bulkier, more durable units so the fragile ones could pump her full of debilitating venom, eh? Well, Sláine wasn’t in the mood for anything like that.

[ Perceive Threat has reached Level 3! ]

…It did really feel like praise, didn’t it? Hah.

Sláine did not falter, halberd raised. As she sprinted into range, the left and rightmost creatures broke from the line to flank her, with the central beast poised to grab hold of her should she try to slip past it.

Of course, her actual plan was essentially as basic but, she hoped, would be a bit more effective.

“[ Reckless Spin ]!”

Nothing about her previous use of the [ Skill ] indicated to her that she had to be stationary for it to have its effect, and that assumption paid off as she felt the guiding force of the System take hold of her movements. The brutal axe-head of her halberd carved a circle around her, smashing the guardian directly in front of her to the side and keeping the rest at bay with well-sharpened steel. Liquid splashed on her from some unknown source, and she felt… a presence entering her personal bubble before she properly registered the body clinging to her own. Not halting for anything, she snatched the thing from off her shoulder and flung it away before it had the change to embed its stinger into her.

Was that [ Perceive Threat ] at work? She’d sort of assumed it would augment her hearing or something like that… but a form of ‘danger sense’ seemed far more useful than just that.

The room Red had described to her - or, at least, what Sláine assumed to be it, unless the contents had changed but not the layout - was not far ahead, and so Sláine pressed on in accordance with the plan. Her instructions had included that Sláine retreat should she notice significant changes in the dungeon’s layout, though its debatable whether the [ Berserker ] would have ever obeyed that directive. Red had shoved a bundle of potions and other healing tonics at her before they’d parted, so Sláine felt prepared enough, and she was expecting a show.

With the pack hot on her heels, Sláine prepared to break through the next pair of guardians blocking the doorway, but the close confines of the walls there meant that Sláine’s earlier trick wouldn’t be as effective. With a grim, steely expression set into her features, Sláine sprinted directly at the pair, elbowing one in the face and slamming the butt of her polearm into the other as she forced her way through.

As expected, Sláine saw a room teeming with bugs beyond.

Its function, Red had told her, was a breeding chamber, explaining why so many creatures tried to bar the path from it. It was also a location the Swarm would naturally fall back to when attacked, so naturally inside of it were sure to be a large number of the hive, along with their still-developing spawn that didn’t yet pose a threat. Sláine’s job was really quite simple: get everything in there angry enough to form a mob chase her down.

It really did fit in with her natural proclivities!

Arranged in even lines throughout the room were upright metal cylinders with pipes linking them all together. Once the tanks had assuredly contained fluid of some kind, but chunks of the metal had long ago been dissolved, closely packed bundles of thin, silvery white eggs revealed by irregular patches of corrosion. Soft, fleshy workers with bulbous eyes scampered about, haphazardly emptying the tanks shoving as many of the Swarm’s unborn children into pouches on their stomachs. Holes led out of this room - for evacuation, Sláine assumed - and her question of ‘where to?’ lingered at the back of her mind.

A wet hurk of a noise snapped her attention towards something across the room, a long, fat creature with legs like a caterpillar’s securing half of its bulbous body to one of the tanks. Sláine threw herself out of the way of the a congealed mass of gunk it spit at her, a thing that reminded Sláine of a horked-up bit of snot as it truck the wall with a plop. It looked… viscous, thick, and Sláine distinctly wished she was better at [ Inspection ] because she’d quite like to know what the hell it was.

She gave it a shot anyway, scrambling for the tingle as she began her circuit around the room. Unfortunately, her hands were occupied and she still relied on contact to make [ Inspection ] work, so… she tucked her cheek against her shoulder and, well, licked the markings there while thinking what the fuck is that? As emphatically as she could.

As stupid as it was, it worked.

[ Tunnel Mite Agglutinater ~ Servant of the Noxious Swarm. Primarily acting as builders and stationary defenders, these creatures vomit up various compounds to construct, protect, and defend the hive. Among these are binding agents and glue traps. ]

“Thank you!” Sláine shouted, because while she didn’t know if Aria was listening or not, last thing she wanted was to get stuck to the wall by a glob of insect paste.

Most of the tanks lined the center of the room, and the transportation crew kept out of her way as much as they could, leaving the martially inclined units to take care of the rambunctious disturbance. Sláine was fast by nature - look, she wasn’t a rabbit, but the Root had given her species some of the same… advantages - but her pursuers weren’t far behind, which meant that if she wanted circle around the room and get back to the entrance, she’d have to get through the horrid caterpillar thing slumped across the floor.

This was going to be so, so gross.

Sláine used one of the tanks to block its next projectile before diving around the corner. Facing her now, its fat body twisted to point the circular hole of its mouth towards her. She’d only just processed the shininess of the floor around it, evidence of some manner of excretion leaking from its glistening skin, when she heard the thing gurgle and dived so the shot didn’t strike her directly in the face.

She managed to maintain hold of her weapon, but her velocity meant that striking the ground also slid her forward, forcing her arm into the puddle of thick and - as Sláine quickly discovered - sticky sludge on the floor.

Wrenching herself upwards, the goop stretched, clinging to her, and Sláine realized she’d need time she didn’t have to free herself from it. How far could the bounds of [ Skills ] be pushed, she wondered? What would happen if she tried to use one when something else was preventing her from doing so?

Might as well find out!

“[ Reckless Spin ]!” Sláine shouted, gripping tightly onto the shaft of her halberd and ensuring the blade was pointed at the creature.

In a burst of unnatural strength, Sláine’s arms ripped free from the adhesive to follow the circumference dictated by the [ Skill ].The blade swept low, and so soft was the creature’s body that it seamlessly carved a horizontal line through its torso, splitting it lengthwise and letting a torrent of pus-colored goop spew forth with an awful wet slosh. A jolt rang up through her arms as the halberd struck the bottom of the tank, but it was so old and dilapidated - and whatever enhancements the Protocol had given her so potent - that she tore it apart with a screeching rip of metal. In the brief, blurry whirl of her spin, she saw that the crowd had split, some following along the path she’d taken along the outer edge of the room while others charged straight at her from the entrance.

[ Tunnel Mite Agglutinater has been slain! ]

With little time to think, Sláine stumbled back from what she was mentally calling ‘glue-guts’ and slammed out another [ Reckless Spin ].

Her ears rang from the horrible death-rattle of tanks being split open, and she tried desperately not to gag as eggs spilled out from the metal as it collapsed into a blockade. They crunched and splattered beneath her boots as she leapt forward, flinging herself over the dessicated worm and its awful pile of glue-guts.

[ Athletics has reached Level 3! ]

…Eh? When had she gained a level in that before? Ah, whatever! Sláine had pissed everything off in here sufficiently enough for now. It was time to conduct this bug-train to where it needed to go.

While it took a considerable amount of ducking, dodging, weaving, slashing, and reckless feats of obstinate charging, Sláine forced her way to the now unguarded hallway. Contagion had never been the most intelligent Fear, despite the occasional tactical feats she’d seen those monsters produced by it display over the years.

Panting now, Sláine forced her body forward down the straight shot to her goal: the intersection just up ahead, along with the circle drawn around the ground with black, burnt charcoal.

Sláine skidded around the turn, stumbling from the sudden stop and slamming into the wall. Breath knocked out of her and heart thundering so hard it left her dizzy, she groped for a direction in momentary confusion, but soon felt the presence of arms around her as Red suddenly appeared and hauled her farther down the tunnel.

In normal circumstances, Sláine might have tried to instinctively break free, but this was the end of her knowledge about the plan, and - besides - after the mountainous tide of mandibles and feelers and eyes surged forward, she found herself a bit distracted.

An aurora of ice, glittering with some strange internal light, burst up from beneath them and lanced up their scuttling array of too-many legs. They struggled, mouths peeling and spraying acid and fierce hums of rage up into the air, but couldn’t break free from the frost streaked across the floor. While she kept one arm firmly around Sláine, Red pitched the other back, lobbing something into the center. A cube-like crystal, Sláine noted, similar in appearance to the ones she'd watched Red collect earlier. It arced, landed among them, and exploded.

Suddenly, Sláine found her face pressed against Red’s shoulder, the woman’s fingers fiercely cupping the back of her head. A wave of heat struck her, whirling down the tunnel along with a fierce jet of steam and the snapping, crackling, bubbling hiss of frozen-water abruptly brought to a boil. It stank, a malodorous concoction of charred must and a sulphuric sourness, and Sláine gagged. Death notifications for three Tunnel Mite Guardians pinged in her head.

Red did not move.

After the initial cacophony of noise, the only sounds Sláine could hear were the pops and crackles of bodies, and she turned to get a look as soon as the pressure of Red’s fingers subsided. Despite the few death notifications, Sláine saw no shapes emerge from the fog, and she figured absolutely nothing had survived. What in that pile of limp, charred limbs could be living? Innards liquefied by heat dripped out of broken shells, diluting in the water trickling across the floor. Congealed yellow puss and intestinal matter was streaked across the walls. A single leg twitched, and then it stopped.

"Holy shit," Sláine breathed, taking in the scene with bright, shining eyes. “That was awesome.”

>> Compliment Red on some truly excellent murder