Xaleyp released the knife, leaving it in Caster Dane’s chest, as he stood, staring down at the unmoving body of what had once been his best friend. They had spent so much time together—laughing, playing, enjoying childhood whenever they could, sometimes sneaking into his father’s workshop—just for it all to end in a flash. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he turned away, not wanting to look at the body any longer.

His knees wobbled with each step he took, trying his best not to look at Crowley’s body staring at the ceiling, a look of horror affixed to his face. He had to use the corner of the wall for support, putting his entire weight against it as he felt the hot tears running down his cheeks. Without thinking, he reached up to touch the pendant at his neckline, feeling the cool metal dance between his fingertips.

The back of his head rested against the cool metal, sending a further chill down his spine, and the question asked by the dying Arcadian, who somehow knew his entire life story, came back to him: How many people was he going to let die for him? How many was he going to cut down, like a farmer reaping a corn field, just to get what he wanted, like some spoiled child?

Suddenly, he became all too aware of two things: The first was the overwhelming smell of iron coming from his bloodied lips and nose, and the second was Mian and Eve were watching him closely. He looked to the two of them, his head lazily lulling to the side. Mian was the first to move forward, walking up to him and wiping some of the blood away from his lip. Eve, however, approached Crowley and tapped his CAM, causing a small disc to pop out of it which she pocketed.

“Data chip with his information on it.” She shrugged. “Better to take it than leave it, isn’t it? Who was that anyway?”

She gestured vaguely to Caster’s body, whose eyes were staring at the ceiling in an unblinking look of terror. Xaleyp didn’t say anything anything at first, instead pulling away from Mian and trying to do whatever Eve had done to Scarecrow, a horrible pit forming in his stomach that he didn’t think to take Adric’s or Hudson’s. When he touched it, a small explosion popped out, sending a small wispy trail of smoke and jet of fire away from it and leaving a hole where it had been in his head. Xaleyp jerked his hand backwards, narrowly avoiding the trap, and staggered away from the body.

“That’s—well, was, I guess—Caster Dane, one of my best friends from my childhood.” Xaleyp’s voice was heavy and slow as he carefully chose his words, and he felt both of their eyes boring into him. “He was at Vertyn with me, and I saw him for a few minutes before the Arcadians attacked. I never thought he would do something like this, though—it’s so unlike him.”

Even as he said the words, he knew it wasn’t true. Ever since they were children, Caster was always trying to fill his parents’ shoes, not worrying about who or what he hurt to do it. This would’ve just been his way of trying to fulfill their dream for him, regardless of the consequences.

“If you’re going to lie us, at least make it a good one,” Eve said, picking up his assault rifle and handing it to him. She looked him deep in the eyes, studying him like a predator analyzing its prey. “Especially when he would’ve killed us all if he had the chance. Now, how about we get out of this hellhole and finish the mission we came here for before the Arcadians realize something’s up and send their troops our way.”

A shout came from the opposite end of the hall, drawing all three of their attentions to the two Arcadian soldiers appearing around the corner. Xaleyp grabbed Mian by the wrist and pulled her around the corner, and Eve ducked around the other side. As bullets began flying down the hall towards them, pinging off the walls, Eve leaned to the side rose her own assault rifle and unleashed a trio of shots into each of the soldiers. The slugs impacted the two men in the chest, causing them to jerk backwards with each hit before following to the ground motionless.

“Now that we know that they know we’re here, can we please hurry up a little?” Eve asked, stepping past Crowley’s body to moved back towards the door.

Xaleyp followed in her footsteps, walking in front of her and beating her to the door, where he stood off to one side. Eve took the other while Mian lined up behind him, and, once they were all in position, he sent a countdown to both through the CAM.

As they slammed open the solid wood door, two gunshots pierced the air, and the two Arcadian soldiers raising their rifles to meet them fell over, each with a splotch of blood in their heads. Standing behind a desk at the far side of the room was the thin, older woman Xaleyp had seen in the Director’s briefing: Lissinius Nevermoor. She aimed the smoking pistol at the ceiling, a smug look on her face and her other hand on her hip.

“It is about time,” Lissinius said, her voice rather more assertive than he imagined. “I was beginning to think that you three were never going to show up before the detonation went off. Lachlan, have you prepared my everything I’m going to need for my trip?”

“Aye, my lady,” a crackly voice said from an unseen corner of the room. It was quickly followed by a shuffling of feet and closing and locking of a trunk pulled by a somewhat short by well-built man with short brown hair.

The main section of the room was circular and a dozen meters high with every inch of the walls covered from top to bottom in bookshelves, though much of the contents were shaken loose and lying at the base in heaps. An ornate rug under a pair of sitting chairs and a sofa dominated the center of the room. Where Nevermoor stood, the room became a square with a bank of windows broken up by another wood door leading to a balcony, where Xaleyp could see the lights of explosions outside.

“What is going on here?” Eve walked forward and gripped her assault rifle tightly, looking between Nevermoor and her assistant. “Why the hell did you shoot your own guards, and give me a good reason why I shouldn’t kill you now.”

“Oh, my dear, Evangeline.” Lissinius almost seemed to glide across the room to where Eve stood, and she gently pushed the barrel of the assault rifle away with a single fingertip. “Ardus told me that you would be quite the rowdy one, though I am surprised by your tenacity, like that of a bedyr from Venator. That reminds me: Lachlan, make a note to buy a bedyr as soon as we get off this god forsaken planet.”

“Aye, my lady,” the man replied, bowing deeply.

“Hold on for just one minutes.” It was Xaleyp’s turn to walk to the center of the room, where he held up a hand. “What do you mean Ardus told you about Eve, what detonation, and why did you kill your own guards?”

“You mean to tell me that Ardus did not tell you what your actual mission was? That is hilariously inefficient, but, then again, there’s a reason I’m here and he’s there, so he must be doing something right.” She clapped her hands twice in succession and began walking to the door leading to the balcony, followed quickly by Lachlan. “You see, I’ve grown tired of my cousin’s games, and what better way to get out than defected with a cushy office job waiting for me? Ardus and I planned this so that I can escape without scrutiny and he gets whatever it is he wants, so it’s really a win-win. Anyway, we must be going, as I daresay we do not have much time left before this place is going to be left a smoldering pile of slag and I do not wish to be part of it.”

Xaleyp, Mian, and even followed her to the doorway, though Xaleyp’s insides were squirming and writhing, and there almost looked like smoke was coming out of Eve’s ears. What did she mean Ardus didn’t tell him the actual mission? Why the hell was she acting as if they were an escort to some banquet rather than kidnapping her? Somewhat seething, he sent a message to Ardus updating him on their progress.

the reply said almost immediately.

From the balcony, they could see the full extent of the battlefield still embroiled in combat below. Much of the walls and many of the guard towers were in ruins, smoke gently rising from them after being blown up by God’s Machine rockets. Flashes lit up the dawn sky and dark tree line of the swamp as the two opposing forces fired back and forth, neither one seeming to tire. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the baritone roaring of engines growing steadily louder, as well as a higher pitched one from much closer.

Looking up, he saw a Helios-Two dropship streak towards them and come to an abrupt stop less than a meter away from the edge of the balcony. The door slid open at once, hardly waiting for the ship to come to a stop, and revealed Ardus standing there holding onto a bar affixed to the wall to keep himself steady. At the front of the ship, the autocannon gun swiveled from side to side, firing on the Arcadians a few dozen meters below who tried to stop them.

“Time to go, let’s get a move on people,” Ardus said, holding out his other hand to help them on.

Lissinius and Lachlan were the first to move forward, stepping onto the stone banister and jumping the small gap to the ship. They walked to the side and into the darkness, disappearing as Nevermoor gave a quiet order to Lachlan. Xaleyp was next, and only when he climbed onto the railing did he realize how high they actually were. Looking down at the embroiled fight, the people appeared almost like ants scurrying back and forth. He stopped for a moment, somewhat dizzy, before stepping over with the aid of the Director. He stopped just inside the doorway, turning back to make sure the other two made it. Inside the metal bird, the sound of bullets tinging off the exterior was unnerving.

Eve followed after, deftly crossing the gap as if it were a regular occurrence for her. She brushed past Xaleyp’s outstretched hand offering support, finding a seat and crossing her arms as she sat , her lips pursed in thought. As Mian started stepping over and had one foot on the metal floor, a rocket from below came screeching by the open doorway, missing the dropship only because of the pilot's quick maneuvers to dodge it.

Xaleyp saw her begin to tumble backwards, and their eyes locked for a fraction of a second. He reached out without thinking and grabbed her wrist, holding on tight to the metal handhold with one arm and onto Mian with the other. She dangled there, dozens of meters off the ground, her feet flailing wildly as they tried to find any sort of support. Both of her hands wrapped around his wrist, desperately holding on as her breathing came more and more panicked.

‟I got you,” Xaleyp whispered, though more to himself than anything, into the howling wind.

After several seconds, Ardus carefully moved closer and helped pull her up and in, pulling the door shut after she was safely sprawled on the floor. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together, acting as if he was the one that did all the work. Xaleyp held out a hand and pulled Mian up, bringing her to one of the seats and sitting down next to her.

‟Well done, everyone.” Ardus looked at each of them before turning and walking towards the cockpit, where the panoramic viewport allowed them to clearly see the fortress against its mountainous backdrop. ‟Now, let’s get out of here so we don’t have to deal with that frigate ourselves.”

As he said the words, the baritone rumbling reached a peak. Coming from around the mountain was one of the frigates Ardus had warned him about, and its guns were flashing as it unleashed a devastating salvo on the God’s Machine soldiers below. Dirt and dust flew up into the air, trees were felled as if they were nothing more than playthings, but, luckily, it seemed to be ignoring the transport shooting away from the fortress to the opposite side of the mountain.

As if on cue, a whine filled the air, followed almost immediately by an eruption. The spire of Nevermoor Hold pulsed a deep azure and seemed to shudder in place before it collapsed in on itself, causing two distinct but similar effects. The first was a wave of blue and white flames spreading over the complex, tearing through the structures and people below before continuing out into the surrounding swampland. It destroyed the trees, the flames eating away the leaves and bark down to stumps, and erased the God’s Machine soldiers assaulting the complex.

The second was a piercing gout of flame into the air, engulfing the frigate’s rear end and stripping it to the studs. Its engines failed, and it listed to one side before crashing into the mountainside and rolling once then twice, coming to a rest in the ruins of Nevermoor Hold. The fire continued burning even as they flew away, and a silence filled the air as all signs of life disappearing a matter of seconds. Even the wildlife quieted for a moment, frightened off by the sound and effect of the destruction. Then, all at once, the noise returned as if it never happened, and life continued on.

At least, for Xaleyp and everyone on the dropship it did.

All of those people, dead in the blink of an eye, just because he, Xaleyp, agreed to do this so he could get revenge. The haunting laughter came back to him: How many dead was too many? How much destruction was too much? Their transport was only saved by the fact that mountains directed the force of the explosion away from them.

‟That,” said Lissinius, looking directly into Xaleyp’s eyes, ‟is the detonation I did not want to be a part of.”