Shia ran panting down the street. The screaming and cracking of bone behind her growing softer as she ran. Turning hard around a corner, sliding on a patch of liquid. Hitting the stone wall hard, she bounced off, falling to the ground. Shia screamed as she realized what she slipped in was blood. In front of her, a man with fierce red eyes lay, a dagger in his throat.

“Oh, gods no!” Shia screamed, staggering to her feet and running farther down the alley she had turned into. The sounds of screams died behind her, replaced with rapid panting. Daring to look behind her, she saw a group of Gloomed men and women standing at the entrance to the alley. Shia locked eyes with one of them, a little girl. As their eyes met, Shia could see the Aether shoot from her legs. The little girl was almost a blur as she ran at Shia.

Shia leaped to one side of the alley, narrowly avoiding the girl who smashed into a nearby wall. Shia heard bones breaking as the little girl hit the wall. She looked, and the girl had one shattered arm hanging listlessly off to the side. Blood ran in a river down to the mangled hand and fingers. Part of her skull was exposed as the skin was flayed on the impact. Shia had a few seconds before the girl recovered enough to try and get her once more.

Shia bounded around the girl and into an adjoining street. She saw people fleeing towards the gates wanting to escape this hell. Many were caught by Gloomed, who promptly infected them, those infected lay on the ground twitching and writhing. A group of guards was ushering past men, women, and children fleeing. A score of dead bodies lay around them. A few wore colors of the guard. “This way! We are only holding this gate for so long! Come to us or be trapped with them!” Shia heard one of the guards shouting. It boomed down the street just loud enough to overcome the surrounding din.

Shia sprinted towards the guards, who fended off a few more Gloomed, who charged fruitlessly at them. They suffered casualties though, any touch was a death sentence and sent the unlucky recipient into convulsions. They were swiftly put down. Shia panted heavily, and her legs burned as she closed the distance, now only twenty buildings from the gate. A man who clutched a small child ran beside her, and he barreled into her as a gloomed halfling tackled him.

“Get away from my…!” he wasn’t able to finish before a spark touched his skin, and he convulsed. The child screamed, but it was quickly silenced. Shia’s scream rode along with her as she increased her pace. Ten buildings now, more Gloomed had crashed against the guards and their steadily diminishing bulwark. Dozens of people had already made it past the gate into the other part of the city. A blinding blue-white light shot into the sky past the gate preceding a different voice shouting, “We are falling back and closing the gate!”

Shia watched the guards and their steady retreat into the gatehouse. The massive portcullis slowly dropping. Two buildings now. “Wait! Please!” Shia screamed and stretched out her hand, willing the portcullis to close slower. It slammed shut as she reached the threshold of the gatehouse. “No! Please! Please! Let me through!” Shia raged, slamming her hands fruitlessly into the metal. She saw the gates themselves closing ahead of her. The guards and citizens past them looked back to her and the now growing throng of others with pity.

Shia heard the screaming closing in behind her. She pressed herself into the portcullis, trying to gain a few more seconds of life. The masses pushed into her, and she screamed, “Damn all the gods and lords! You are all monsters for leaving us to die!” One by one, the screaming people behind her quieted. Shia closed her eyes and braced for the inevitable. It never came even as she felt those around her start convulsing and pressing into her.

Opening her eyes, Shia looked behind her. Dozens of people lay convulsing in the gatehouse and streets beyond. Those farther out started shakily getting to their feet, eyes glowing red. Shia’s blood ran cold as she laid eyes on the girl. The very same girl that she saw slam into the wall. Her flesh was slowly knitting itself back together into its proper place. There was no emotion on her face or in her eyes. She stared at Shia like a hound that found its prey.

Shia pressed herself even more into the portcullis as the girl slowly stepped towards her. Shia looked around for anything she could use to try and escape. Shia found her salvation at her feet, a dagger partway unsheathed at a man’s waist. She snatched it quickly and held it out towards the girl, “Stay back! Stay back!” The screams were obviously lost on the girl who continued advancing. Shia felt a hand brush across her leg.

She flinched away and fell into the mass of bodies around her. The crunch and cracking of bones accompanied the landing. The little girl came closer unperturbed. Shia glanced around, looking for other Gloomed. She found they were staying away from her and the girl. It didn’t matter why, but she took the opportunity to run. With the girl’s slow advance, she thought she could escape. Shia didn’t make it more than a few paces before the girl caught her wrists tight enough to make the bones creak. Shia screamed, and the girl twisted her wrists, pulling her down. Shia braced for the pain of being turned, but it didn’t come. The girl merely locked eyes with her and smiled, “You’ll do nicely.”

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“We’ve lost three further Emissaries in the city now, ma’am,” a red-faced messenger delivered to Commander Syan. She dismissed them offhand and stared at the piles of written reports in front of her. Within the last week, the Gloom sprung up in the city. “This isn’t normal,” She muttered to herself while reading a casualty list. Twenty dead Emissaries in just the last day. Figures that hadn’t been seen since the war with the Risen empire.

Putting down the list, Syan sighed. She rubbed the bridge of her nose before the rustling of armor drew her attention. Another messenger stormed towards Syan. Breaths heaved from his lungs, “Ma’am, the outer Western Ward has been lost.” Syan wanted to scream at the man in frustration. Instead, she took one deep breath and exhaled slowly, “Get some rest, two hours at minimum. Dismissed.” The messenger bowed and walked away, breathing still ragged.

Syan walked to the nearest window and opened it. Outside the Emissary Academy, chaos reigned. She could see multiple fires in the city’s various wards—the crying and screaming of the dying and injured. Detonations blossomed in the consumed neighborhoods as the last guard or emissary holdouts vainly held positions. “Damn it all,” She muttered. Turning on the spot, she walked out of her office. The hallways were ordered chaos. Young academy members were sheltered within the building’s walls.

Emissary teams moved in and out of the repurposed classrooms, now makeshift quarters. With heightened reflexes and senses, the movements never ceased, each emissary weaving around others like a ballerina. Syan had every team recalled, but it wasn’t enough. Nearly three hundred thousand men, women, and children called this city home. At least a tenth was for all intents and purposes dead, with a quarter displaced due to this outbreak.’ Syan eventually found herself at the academy entrance. Compared to the hallways around here, it was empty. Vigilant defenders watched everyone who entered with a close eye. OWLS perched in the stonework in the entrance.

Their amber eyes darting quickly to and fro, searching for any trace of Gloom. Syan looked at a few of them before proceeding down the most heavily watched and guarded hall. No-one stopped her as she moved farther until the end. Massive double wooden doors were in front of her, “I hope this asshole listens this time.” Striding forward, the guards beside the door opened them for her. The massive room beyond held an enormous stone archway spanning the entire diameter of a rune inscribed stone dais. “Is it still set to Volamire?” Syan asked one of the nearby Emissaries. “Yes, it is, ma’am. Would you like us to open it?” They answered softly, the words carrying well in this room.

Syan nodded, “Yes, and be quick about it.” The Emissary nodded, along with nearly a dozen others circled the dais. Each one placed a palm on a cold stone pillar. Like water flowing in pavement cracks, soft blue light filled the posts and worked towards the dais. Every few seconds, a new Emissary relieved someone on a pillar. Soon enough, the light reached the arch and was quickly swallowed wholesale. Darkness engulfed the room.

A small flash of lightning appeared in the archway. It quickly spiderwebbed out to touch every square centimeter of the interior. Syan watched stone-faced as a chasm appeared where the lightning originated. Slowly it expanded, and as it felt the archway, it snapped into place. Beyond the depth now showed a similar chamber high above in Volamire, the Capital city. Syan had expected the receiving room to be empty except for its attendants. She was wrong. On the other end, an entire cohort of legionnaires stood battle-ready.

Before Syan could drop her expression to shock, they stormed through, taking defensive positions around the portal. Within heartbeats, a perfect defensive perimeter was formed. “Commander Syan, step forward. Legate Harshu would like to speak with you,” an imposing legionnaire stated while an entrance corridor was made for her. Syan suppressed her unease and ascended the dais. “Lord and Lady Silverhelm are also awaiting you.” The same legionnaire stated calmly. Syan felt her unease blossom as she looked further into the portal. A dozen more cohorts stood at attention, waiting to come through.

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“This isn’t right,” Fran commented while watching the Gloomed try once more in vain to breach the gate. “Tell me about it, aren’t they supposed to be weak and sickly?” Marcus countered before Fran sucked in a deep breath. Pulling her bowstring taut, Marcus watched her aim at one of the Gloomed below. Fran exhaled, releasing the string. The arrow flew true and pierced her target’s collarbone.

Had they been any closer, both of them would have heard the wet gurgle as the man died from a pierced heart. “Nice shot,” Marcus eyed the dying man. Red eyes locking with his while speaking unheard words. “Least I could do for my neighbor,” Fran whispered just loud enough for Marcus to hear. “Oh, Fran, I’m sorry. I didn’t….” Marcus began before Fran cut him off. “It’s alright, Marcus,” Marus looked at Fran. He saw her fists clenched around the bow. “Fran, if you need to talk, I am….” Marcus began before Fran wheeled on him.

Her face was flushed, tears were forming in her eyes. “I don’t need to talk, Marcus!” She shoved a finger to his chest. “I want to kill whoever did this! Good people are dying! Mothers, fathers, children! Whole fucking families!” Marcus looked around and saw that the other guards around them were staring at them. “Fran, take a deep breath,” Marcus pleaded with her, but this seemed only to goad her on. “No! I fucking won’t, Marcus! None of this shit should be happening! None of this is like anything we were told! The OWLS should have caught this before it happened!”

Marcus could see in the eyes of some of the other guards Fran’s argument taking root. “Fran, come on, let's get you somewhere….” Marcus said while reaching out a comforting hand towards Fran. She slapped it away, “The only place I am going, Marcus is to my family. Then I am taking them out of the city before we all die!” Fran turned again, walking towards the tower and the stairs leading down. “If the rest of you were smart, you would all be doing the same thing.”