“Balls, so many people,” Jonathan remarked as they filed out of the tree alignment.

If Castikal two months ago was busy, the Gate to Brocarres was packed. There were probably almost a hundred Professionals already there, more than Jonas had ever seen except in official ceremonies like that parade last year or the grand royal wedding. Even the Faire didn’t seem packed like that.

There were lots of faces he recognized. All of the Labyrinth High Office, of course – except their manager. A lot of people he remembered from the Castikal raid. And even familiar faces from the British Scouts, not just Millard talking with Thorebourne to the side.

“Greetings, Imposing Knight,” he said, presenting his wrist.

“Sims. My not-favourite arcane caster,” Cowen replied, smiling.

“All set up?”

“We’re raring to go. This time, when we kill Deschanel, he’ll stay dead.”

“You can take him?”

“Easily. Back in London, his job was to distract us. Which he admittedly did perfectly. Our whole team is enough to take him and his master if we find both on their own.”

“Really?”

“Based on potentials, vitals and the rest, two to three of a given tier are usually worth one Professional of one tier higher. Five of us against those two? No problem.”

“Well, good luck on you,” Jonathan said, arriving on the spot.

“It’s not going to be luck. And good hunt on you. Freeing all those crowned heads, you’ll do a major blow to the Dominion as well,” she replied.

“If it dies today, it will be better,” he said.

“There’s always generals and others that will try to rise. But doing it again isn’t that easy. What made the Dominion once, won’t work another time.”

Jonas spotted Thorebourne ending some talk with a pair of armoured defenders and wasted no time coming to greet his commander.

“Greetings, Resilient Spellwrangler,” he said.

“Lots of people,” Jonas said.

“All we could cram. And wonder, everyone did proper enabling. They all can cross, and everyone already got their lair completion from Brocarres. Although there was a small hitch two months ago.”

“What happened?”

“A team went in, and the staircase would not come down. Thankfully, they immediately figured it out and retreated back to Szinkal to wait for a couple of hours.”

Jonas frowned, then immediately realized what must have happened.

“Yes, the idea is that there probably was a French team just above, fighting the guardian. They left to avoid being spotted or caught in an extreme range effect, although it’s doubtful this could happen across the stone ceiling and with tier one teams.”

“You could lock the Gate against us that way,” Jonas speculated.

“It’s fairly obvious. Keep a small team in place, probably rotate it to avoid boredom, and no one can use it behind your back, even if you are busy fighting the guardian when it regenerates.”

“The instant the French learn it’s here…”

“The instant we lose our backdoor,” Thorebourne shrugged.

“Will we lock Othary?”

“Possibly. It’s far from the real heart of the British sector, and so, not very conducive to surprise attacks, but who knows. The Labyrinth ministry will probably make a decision at one point, and I’ve no idea how the Marquess will go. Same for Nindarul and that treehouse. Or whatever other trunk access we find later.”

The Observer’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Jonas.

“There appears to be a lot of speculation about other trunks recently. I presume you know more than me about that stuff, given that you discovered this.”

Jonas shrugged, trying not to exaggerate a display of innocence.

“There is no reason it should be unique. I mean, you have weird places in the Labyrinth, but this isn’t just a weird place. It’s an entire set of rules. Full lairs. Plaza completions. Regular structured features. It would be odd… if this was just it.”

Thorebourne waved at another Professional team that came out of the carefully aligned trees of the zone and turned back toward Jonas.

“Make your camp, relax. Tomorrow, we cross and the Dominion ends. It just doesn’t know it yet.”

Jonas kept circulating. He didn’t know half of the Professionals gathered, but almost all of them waved – the Adapted team was famous despite its relatively low level. He spotted Laura animatedly talking to a pair of leather-clad women with large hammers and maces hanging at their sides, presumably trading tips and tricks.

He finally made his way back to the team, who had dropped bags and everything not too far from the Gate proper. Not that there was a lot there – this was a hit and run expedition, not weeks-long forays into the corners of the Labyrinth like their recent levelling sessions. Sleeping bags, minimum rations, and nothing else.

There wasn’t even a campfire, as the perpetual afternoon of the Szinkal removed the need for such unless you wanted hot food later. For that, there was a larger bonfire, made of branches cut from the treelines. The trees would recover faster than any mundane forest anyway.

“All good?” Jonas asked the team.

“Yep. Four more days and it’s over.”

A handful of Professionals still came out of the orchard, but it looked like most of them had arrived early. Nobody wanted to risk being late, and not everyone had grabbed the same Gates for the trunk. People had taken the one from Othary, some had picked the Szinkal-Donerkal one, and a handful had even only kept the one between tier two and three, for reasons based on their normal activities.

Despite the unchanging time, most of the Professionals had tucked in, to rest before the rush into enemy territory began. Jonas was contemplating the skies, in their eternal overcast afternoon. In most circumstances, he’d be watching the Moon, weird or mundane, across the Labyrinth, as sleep eluded him as it often did. Here, there was nothing of the sort. It was daytime, forever.

He finally slipped out of his sleeping bag and moved to the side of the encampment, where half a dozen Professionals, unable to sleep like him, had gathered.

“Sims, isn’t it? Can’t sleep?”

“Yea. That happens often. Doesn’t really bother me as much as it should. I’ve learned to live with it, even if it didn’t happen back when I wasn’t a Professional.”

The woman who’d initiated the conversation snorted, as did another Professional next to her.

“That’s something that no Potential or anything reflects. You get Tired for a couple of seconds, then it goes away. Welcome to the club of the Sleepless.”

“Is this common?”

“Not that I know. And yes, gaining Stamina or anything doesn’t change it. We tend to think the Labyrinth defines who we are, but sometimes, you’re reminded that there are mysteries of man that it does not touch. In the end, you are what you are.”

Jonas was startled by that. In their case, the tendency might be well that they were, in fact, special. That Adaptation made them special. But sometimes, he thought, you needed to be reminded that there were all kinds of people, and some would share your obsessions.

“It’s even worse when the night never falls,” he finally said.

“No. What’s really worse is that you don’t get Fast Travel charges,” another man said.

Location

Zone: Szinkal (tier 1 trunk)

Locale: Gate to Brocarres

Recall: Grailburg, Gate to Earth

Recall: available

Gates: 4/4

Tier 1: Zolferras

Tier 2: Donerkal

Tier 3: Zilbarn

Tier 4: Warsemial

Fast travel: 1 charge, ∞ until next

“That’s the bad part about the trunk, true,” Jonas admitted.

“There aren’t many zones where that happens, at least in the low tiers,” the woman said.

“Oh, Lord, don’t remind me of Nertalun,” one said with a distressed look.

“I think I heard about it,” Jonas said before the original speaker laughed.

“Everyone’s heard about it. No sun, no moon, not even stars. Nothing but eternal darkness. The only light that comes out is glowing hot lava pooled or running across the plains. Oh, and the creatures which all glow like those crawling mushrooms you get in some zones.”

“You’ve been there? What are you, high five?” the woman asked.

“Tier six soon. A teammate had this as the only Plaza known for his next Profession, Purposeful Physics, so we dipped into it.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Half of the lairs are outdoor… and they have loads of power crystals.”

Jonas saw most of the Professionals rolling their eyes.

“I’m betting Laufrey will want to work it once they have enough staff.”

“Almost every Professional I know would instantly threaten to resign once they’re told to go there,” one of the men laughed.

“Can’t be worse than Iosuber. I was among the first teams to try to tackle there. Even now, thinking about it makes me sweat.”

At one point, one of the Professionals brought a kind of mead wineskin to make rounds, and each Professional offered their memories, dreams and sometimes hopes for the further zones. The sides of tier five. The unseen tier eight. The eternal question of what lay beyond the furthest zone.

The landing cellar in the Scurrying Vermin lair had probably never been more crowded. Dozens of Professionals were crammed under the arched ceiling, waiting to start climbing the circular stairs going up. Jonas and the team found themselves inching forward slowly.

“What’s going on?” Jonas asked.

“As soon as people get up, the stairs close again since nobody is enabled to come back down,” Alton who was standing in front replied.

Finally, Jonas reached the stairs and wasted no time climbing up to the final guardian room before the grinding noise of stone began under him. A side glance made him note that the treasure box had a low-level basic weapon in it. If the guardian had been up, it had been slaughtered and already decomposed by now. Then he rushed out, to allow the stairs to open again for the next batch of people.

They moved along the stone rooms of the lair’s main building until they emerged into the small paved streets and stairs of the village ruins, set against the mountainside. All the Professionals already out were milling around, and none of the local rats were visible.

Seeing them, Jack Millard waved.

“Resilient Spellwranger Sims.”

Jonas hurried to his side and bowed.

“You and your team are the only ones who’ve made it all the way to the Gate to Argenmart. So… lead on.”

“Aye, Applied Ringmaster.”

The team took point and started toward the path leading down the hillside toward the forest. Jonas pulled out his old notes, making sure he remembered all the details for the itinerary. It was around two days to the Gate… where they had killed the beginner French team.

This time, he knew that far more French Professionals would die a Final Death.

As the raid moved over a small ridge, Jonas spotted a set of buildings ahead. And behind them… a large metal shape. The Great Gate to Versailles was finally in sight.

The leading elements of the raid immediately increased their pace. Thanks to the bonus from the Adjustment, his team had more Agility – and thus running speed – than some Professionals double their levels, but the upper tier-six leaders were still far faster. They had several hundred, if not close to a thousand for the ones with that build type.

“Looks small. That’s no town,” Jonathan commented.

“They house the Professionals on Earthside. Allows them to not worry about needing qualified Professionals for building stuff and providing services. It’s just warehousing for materials and crystals not moved to Earth yet,” Jonas said, remembering Baudouin’s descriptions.

By the time the bulk of the raid reached the edge of the warehousing, it was all over. Jonas spotted two corpses on the ground. Two hapless French that had been there at the wrong time.

“Do we wreck the stores?” the question came from somewhere.

“No time. Besides, the gear would probably survive,” Millard replied tersely.

As they filed into a small cleared area that reminded Jonas of the Gatepost clearing, he spotted a hideous-looking sculpture. It was in the shape of a roman column, with a cube of rock inserted in the middle. But the real clash came from the colouring. Above was red, closer to some tinted cloth rather than stone. Under the cube was a vivid green, almost like some gemstone.

“Did you consider the idea,” he heard Thorebourne saying to Millard.

The Scout leader sighed in reply as he raised his fist, halting the Professionals.

“Okay. I need three smasher-builds or similar without their Recall set to Gatepost, and 500+ Strength at least.”

There was some muttering, but five people detached themselves from the crowd to get next to Millard.

“All of you fine with losing Recall?” he asked.

Upon receiving nods, he gave instructions.

“Okay. It’s been a heavy debate, but the advantages outweigh the risks. What I want you to do is to pull and tear out the stone here. Now, at the moment you start, your Recall point will be reset to the stone. Can’t be avoided. But as soon as you pull it out of the ground, which will require at least three of you, it will deactivate. Which means your Recall will reset again, this time to the Argenmart Plaza.”

“If that prevents some French from coming, I’m good for it,” one of the pullers said.

“The thing is, as soon as you pull it out, every single French that has it for its own Recall is also going to be reset. Either to their current zone’s Plaza or the closest if they’re Earthside. If we’re lucky, they’re not watching the location descriptor, and won’t notice until too late. And those in the Labyrinth probably don’t have both Recall and Fast Travel to here, while those outside… let’s say, they probably noticed advancing skyships,” Millard said.

The five Professionals surrounded the Recall Stone, grabbing it. Jonas spotted a fleeting grimace of regret, then they all heaved simultaneously. The stone was… well, made of heavy stone. But five Professionals with hundreds of Strength pulled, the stone pillar rising out of the ground until it started leaning and crashed to the side.

“Now, we have one team guarding the Gate. If any Professional Fast Travels here, their job is to make sure they don’t jump on us from behind. And they now only have the Gate to watch, which makes it slightly easier. The rest of us… it’s time. The skyships will be there at any time. Now…”

“FOR KING AND COUNTRY!!!”