A man with black eyes stood at the center of a camp, watching as others began to unload the burden of several beasts and wagons. The men and women moving around were a mishmash of creatures, probably mixed with what beasts used to be around here. Whatever they were, they looked far more dangerous for it.

More disturbing, however, was the ‘supply line’ Asle saw. Fuel, apparently, was not a luxury the samr could afford to waste on simple supply chains. That was handled by the less useful, or injured people among them.

Asle closed the portal she’d been using for recon, giving Summers a signal.

“This about right?” Summers called up to her.

She checked the distance one more time, then shouted back to him.

“He’s a little to your left!”

Summers adjusted, then shouldered his rifle. After a moment, Asle opened a small portal, and dumped his magazine into the man that appeared in front of him. The portal closed, and he moved on.

They’d been doing this for two weeks now, clearing out the more dangerous of the camps they could find of the samr, based on what little scouting they’d managed. Tel’s people had jumped at the chance to help. While most weren’t suited for fighting, they knew the land and knew how to stay out of sight well enough. Asle could appreciate that. They were trying to help in any way they could. And the fact they could assassinate the leaders despite the numbers at their backs had shown some effect on the movements of the samr themselves.

“This doesn’t feel heroic, Commander.” Orvar yelled from the ridge.

Orvar had taken up a position to protect Asle from anything in the obsidian world that might pop out. Five others, a squad that Orvar was training, stood around him, on similar duty. So far, they hadn’t seen anything, but they were being careful all the same.

“Dying pointlessly isn’t heroic either,” Summers punctuated the statement by slamming a fresh magazine into his rifle.

Asle checked the portal one more time, seeing the man that used to command this company of soldiers was now a smear on the stone. She instructed Summers to move to one of the few working vehicles. They couldn’t do much about the bulk of the soldiers without exposing themselves, but they could take out things like ammunition stores, or transport with a tactically positioned grenade or two. Things that would slow or cripple the enemy force. If some soldiers happened to get caught in the blast, that was just a bonus, as her teacher would say.

Asle looked through another portal, searching the field only to reflexively close it as an explosion rocked the world.

“You okay?” Summers called up.

Asle rubbed at her face, the concussion from the blast had knocked her on her back, but the portal must have collapsed before the worst of it came.

“I’m fine,” Asle responded.

“Must have hit a stockpile of explosives.” Summers said, low.

They’d started their little campaign with hit and run tactics. Firing on patrols and leaving before any sizable force could retaliate. Now, they were putting fear into the heart of the samr. Or at least giving them a reason to believe the army was still in play.

Summers hopped up on to the ridge with Asle and the others.

“Let me check, don’t want to risk that someone saw you.”

Asle shook away the shock and opened a portal beside Summers. He looked through, before gesturing for her to close it.

“Asle, I need in there. Everyone else, focus on covering my back.”

“What did you see?” Orvar asked.

“I’m not sure yet.”

The group hefted their weapons as Asle opened a hole in the world that Summers quickly stepped through. She watched as he quickly put down a few of the soldiers that had been stunned by the explosion, before making his way to one in odd, green armor. Familiar green armor.

Ayra, as well as a few of her people. Their black eyes staring back.

“This means they got hit almost right after we left.” Summers told the others.

They’d managed to truss up the woman, as well as one of her men, Helfden as Summers recalled, so they wouldn’t move around. He’d felt bad bagging them up like they were some POW, but technically that’s exactly what they were. And likely a biohazard on top of that.

“Maybe the refugees attracted attention,” Summers considered. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Can you fix them?” Asle asked.

Summers had spent their last few outings trying repeat the ‘extraction’ he’d done on himself. In part to practice before they had to try it on himself or Asle, and partially because it gave the people back at the base hope. A lot of people had lost loved ones to the hamr’s infection, if they could change that, they could accomplish a lot. So far, though, that hadn’t ended with him doing anything but making a brain smoothie, no matter how careful, or sure that it would work he’d been.

“Maybe,” Summers responded. “But we should wait until we're back at base.”

Helfden wasn’t the only one from Ayra’s group there, but he was one of the more intact after that explosion. And one of the few that didn’t look as though something had been grafted onto him. Ayra herself, however, had some kind of scale-like skin that ran from her neck down to her arms. That could be an issue, but from what he'd seen of how the woman handled her people, it was worth the risk to try and cure her.

Orvar moved up beside him.

“What’s wrong, Commander?”

“Nothing. Just can’t help but think that if I’d have done my job better, they’d still be. . . well can’t say alive since they’re not dead yet. But normal.”

Orvar glanced back at their two prisoners.

“Does it matter? As you said, they’re not dead, and you will try to help them. Correct?”

Summers sighed.

“Right.”

Since returning, most of their time had been spent clearing out patrols on the east side with the help of Asle’s power. They’d been so successful, in fact, that the samr had begun to avoid it entirely, probably considering it to more trouble to hold than it was worth. But it had also left the surrounding area one of major interest to the samr, which could have resulted in Ayra paying the price.

Summers moved up to a large X they’d made in the black stone, and Asle opened a portal without prompting.

Several dozen elves were waiting for them, those refugees that Synel had managed to track down on the road with the help of Tel’s people. They’d lead them to caves like this, then Summers and Asle would pick them up, transporting them through the surprisingly much safer obsidian world.

“About time.” Synel said.

She stood in a cave, about thirty others in tow. She’d been sending runners up the road to tell travelers what to look for to find these “safe” areas. Synel had marked them off and left covert signs that traders would be familiar with. He was surprised to learn traders tended to leave markings like this everywhere on the road, mostly it was used to out thieves or dangerous roads. It reminded Summers of something he’d read about hobo signs back in his own world.

But, between this group and the few that had managed to avoid the samr entirely, the base had swelled to a more substantial size. They had about two hundred people that Pat and his first squad were training, most that had arrived with Asmund from the city. Five hundred more handled the business of keeping the base running.

It didn’t feel like it was nearly enough, but it was what they had to work with.

The trip back to the base was simple enough. They’d spent a significant amount of time in the obsidian world, and thus far it had been as dead as the day they’d found it. That sense of wrongness still permeated the place, however.

“Are we close?” Asle called over.

“Yeah,” Summers answered. “I can see the flag we planted up ahead.”

That flag was a signpost, telling them they’d arrived at the obsidian world’s equivalent to the base. They’d long since spread markers like that around to help navigate. But since night had fallen, Summers was the only one that could make it out. As it turned out, the obsidian world didn’t have a moon, making the night even darker than the elves’ home, and that much harder to navigate. Hell, even the stars looked different.

As they arrived, Asle opened a portal, pushing past the shocked and still very confused civilians into the base proper. Synel had tried explaining what was going on as they’d travelled, but words could only convey so much. That didn’t stop them from following once they’d seen neither Summers, Asle, nor Synel had any issue getting to the other side.

Say what you will about people, but they have an amazing ability to adapt to fucked up circumstance.

Asle closed the portal behind them. Summers watched as Synel guided the few merchants and civilians to the tents they’d erected. Orvar took charge of their prisoners and those that had shown an interest in signing up. Some looked to be barely older than Asle and Roan. Summers felt a pang of guilt for that, but it wasn’t like he could ID anyone here. And it wasn’t like they had a choice. Good chance everyone here would be fighting whether they liked it or not.

Asle stood beside Summers, tilting her head.

“Everything okay?” Summers asked.

“Do you feel that?” Asle asked.

Summers looked at her, near as he could tell, everything was fine.

“No.”

Asle furrowed her brow, before catching herself. Then after a moment, she opened another portal.

Summers immediately felt a small tremor. And another when the portal closed. It was subtle, but definitely there.

“Is that normal?” Summers looked back at Asle.

She shrugged.

“Asle, try opening it over there,” Summers gestured to a new spot.

Asle did, and he felt the tremor again. Only it was from the same place as the first one, towards the center of the base. So, the portal wasn’t the origin point.

“Coming from over there,” Asle said.

Summers looked over to the base’s center, trying to think of what could be causing that before the answer hit.

“Ah, shit.”

Summers heaved a rock out of the way, being sure to do so carefully. The tunnel to the anchor was partially collapsed, so moving too fast might bring a few tons of debris down on top of him.

A small army of those the others had trained stood at his back. If the anchor was active again somehow, or the real army had found a way to come back here, then it paid to be prepared.

He glanced at Asle, she was with the others, making sure to be close enough to save him in case the digging, or something else, tried to kill him.

By the time they broke into the chamber, the problem was clear.

The anchor was back, at least partially.

“What the fuck?” Summers muttered.

As he moved into the chamber, he could see the anchor was, somehow, regrowing. The pieces of it that had broken off in the explosion were now stretching into thin strands, moving towards one central point. They must be moving impossibly slow. If Summers hadn’t seen this place a few weeks beforehand, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

Summers startled as a figure moved past him.

“Asle? What the hell, it’s dangerous to-” Summers watched the girl move towards the anchor, almost in a daze. “Asle!”

She didn’t answer.

Summers grabbed her, even as she tried to struggle forward. Then, he paused.

Something was calling to him in that room, urging him to touch the anchor. His body took one step forward before his brain managed to catch up to him.

“Nope.” Summers turned on heel, Asle in hand, and ran.

“You sure that’s you in there?” Summers snapped a finger in Asle’s face. She tried to bite him. “Take that as a yes.”

“I’m fine,” Asle insisted.

“I just saw you go zombie on me, so no you’re not.”

It hadn’t taken long for Asle to return to herself once she’d gotten some time away from the anchor. One thing was certain however, the anchor was back. And if several missiles couldn’t kill it, Summers doubted anything he could think of would do the trick.

Summers sighed, sitting down beside her.

“I felt it too, Asle. So yeah, we’re getting worse.”

He’d already established he couldn’t pull the hamr out of Asle’s head like he had his own. He’d done that without even removing her eye, even pulling at the hamr in her head was liable to give her a concussion. Her whole body was riddled with odd concentrations of the hamr, it led him to believe that she really had hurt herself badly when she’d tried to overload the portal, and the hamr had somehow filled the gaps.

Asle was silent for a moment, thinking.

“How bad was I?”

“Pretty bad. Asle, have your dreams gotten worse.”

“No, just. . . little things.”

Summers took a long breath.

“We can’t keep doing this forever, eventually this thing is going to take over. I’ve already had Pat look at me funny a few times, and I don’t blame him.”

“I know.”

He could see Synel waiting to be let in. Pat, true to his word, had quarantined them under guard just to be safe once Summers had explained their little episode. He gave her the ‘all clear’ signal before standing himself.

“Look, I had an idea. Might help us, might not. Basically, it’s a long shot.” Summers hesitated. “And probably a war crime.”