The iron gates of the High-Security Wing groaned as they pushed inward, revealing a courtyard that was disturbingly, unnervingly silent. No vine-mutated guards, no shrieking prisoners, no signs of a struggle. Just empty watchtowers and the hollow whistle of the wind through chain-link fences.
Roderick came to a halt, his hand resting on the hilt of his rapier as he scanned the desolate yard. "Henry, what kind of cut-rate intel did you scrape together? There isn't a soul here. It's a graveyard without the bodies."
Henry let out a heavy, tired sigh, checking the tactical map projected from his wrist unit. "Hayley's report was explicit. The prisoners staged a full-scale riot the moment the Spore-cloud hit. This place should be a war zone."
"Well, unless they all decided to go on a group holiday, someone's lying to us," Jack added, his top hat tilted at a rakish angle as he peered into a darkened cell block. "Or they found something much more interesting than a prison break."
"The town square," Henry muttered, his eyes narrowing. "If they aren't here, they've migrated toward the city's heart. Let's move."
As they navigated the winding, vine-choked streets leading away from the prison, the tension remained high, but the lack of immediate combat allowed a strange, domestic sort of conversation to bloom. Serena, still adjusting to the weight of her golden armor, let out a frustrated huff.
"Are missions always like this?" she asked, kicking a piece of debris. "I thought it would be... I don't know, more exciting. This is actually kind of boring."
Jack let out a sharp, bark-like laugh. "Boring? My dear, 'boring' is the only thing keeping your heart beating right now. Is this your first time outside the school gates? I thought Starfall Academy was supposed to be a meat grinder for young talent."
"She's a first-year, Jack," Henry reminded him without looking back. "They only finished orientation a few weeks ago. They're still in the 'glossy brochure' phase of their education."
Serena looked at Henry's back, her curiosity piqued. "So, what's next for us? After we survive this? What are the 'future activities' the Academy has planned?"
"The Ranking Exams," Henry replied. "They'll pit the year against each other on a deserted island to determine the hierarchy. The winner gets the title of Year Representative—full access to the restricted libraries and a direct line to the Council."
Serena's eyes widened. "Wait. You were a student there last year, right? Were you the Representative?"
Henry's pace didn't falter, but his shoulders seemed to drop an inch. "No. Diana held the title."
"What? You lost to her?" Serena asked, her voice bordering on shock. She had seen Henry's power; the idea of him losing a fair fight seemed impossible.
"I didn't lose," Henry said, a touch of annoyance creeping into his voice. "Morgana barred me from the exams. She said it would be 'statistically unfair' to the other students if I participated. Said I'd demoralize the entire class."
Jack chuckled, leaning in toward Serena. "Translated: Henry is a freak of nature. Putting him in a island with other students is like putting a wolf in a playpen full of golden retriever puppies."
"I still don't get how they convinced you to actually teach," Jack continued, poking Henry in the shoulder. "The 'White Knight' of Mnemos, playing babysitter for a bunch of teenagers?"
Henry's face darkened. "Let's not talk about it. It was a deal, nothing more."
"Well, for what it's worth," Serena added softly, "I think being an instructor suits you. Even if you're a bit of a jerk about it."
The Uncanny Valley: Dredge Town Square
The conversation died instantly as they rounded the final corner. Charlie and Roderick, who were scouting a few meters ahead, stopped dead in their tracks.
"What in the hell..." Roderick whispered.
The group stepped out into the open expanse of the town square, and for a moment, the nightmare of the "Red Zone" simply vanished.
The square was alive.
The streetlamps glowed with a warm, amber light—not the flickering, haunted glow of the suburbs, but a steady, welcoming hum. The market stalls were open, laden with fresh bread, colorful textiles, and ripe fruit. People were strolling casually across the cobblestones, chatting in low, pleasant tones. A street performer was playing a lute near the fountain, the music drifting through the air like a dream.
There were no green veins on their skin. No screaming. No vines. It looked like a postcard from a city that hadn't been touched by a summoning anomaly in a hundred years.
"They have no clue," Serena whispered, her hand trembling as she looked at a child chasing a hoop near the fountain. "They think everything is normal."
The group moved through the square, their heavy combat boots sounding like hammers against the pristine cobblestones. The "citizens" didn't scream or run; they simply glanced at the five armed warriors with the kind of mild, polite curiosity one might show a passing parade.
"It's not normal," Charlie whispered, his voice a muffled rasp behind his mask. "Look at their eyes."
Henry came to a halt by the central fountain, where a woman in a floral sundress was idly tossing coins into the water. She looked up, her expression a mask of perfect, tranquil peace.
"Excuse me, miss," Henry said, his voice low and cautious. "Do you have any idea what's happening outside this square? The mist? The creatures?"
The lady tilted her head, offering a breezy, nonchalant smile. "Oh, that? Yes, we heard some sort of creature has taken over the rest of the city. A bit of a bother for the commuters, I imagine."
Serena's jaw dropped. She looked around at the children playing and the shopkeepers humming to themselves. "A bother? Then why are you all still here? Why aren't you running?"
The woman's smile didn't falter, but it didn't reach her eyes—which remained as still as glass. "There's no need to worry, dear. We are under Morgrave's protection. As long as we stay within the light, we are safe."
"Who the hell is Morgrave?" Roderick cut in, his hand tightening on his rapier. "And why would some local deity give a damn about protecting a suburban shopping district while the rest of the world burns?"
"He'll save us all," the lady whispered, her voice taking on a hypnotic, sing-song quality. "He is the peace in the—"
"Did a group of prisoners come through here?" Henry interrupted, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the Black Altar. "Men in orange jumpsuits. Ascenders."
The lady's face lit up with genuine, horrifying happiness. "Oh, yes! I see you know them. The lost brothers have found their way. The Ascenders are a part of our congregation now. Reverend Paul is hosting them in the Cathedral as we speak. They're being... prepared."
Henry looked toward the far end of the square, where a massive, gothic cathedral loomed. Its stained-glass windows weren't depicting saints; they were swirling patterns of deep violet and gold that seemed to pulse in time with the city's shadows.
"A religion," Jack chuckled, his manic grin returning. "I love a good sermon! Especially when the congregation is made up of mass murderers and high-level terrorists."
"They aren't prisoners anymore," Charlie noted, his hand resting on a concealed blade. "The lady said they were 'part of the congregation.' If Malachai Black is in that church, he's not just a prisoner—he's the muscle."
Roderick looked at Henry, the usual sarcasm drained from his face. "Henry, if Morgrave is the one keeping Viroth out of this square, we aren't just dealing with a summoning anomaly anymore. We're standing in the crossfire of a turf war between two monsters."
Henry nodded, his eyes fixed on the pulsing violet light of the Cathedral. "I think this is the 'second entity' Hayley detected. We assumed they both came through the portal. We were wrong."
Before he could elaborate, a piercing, jagged sob cut through the rhythmic humming of the market. The group turned in unison. At the edge of the fountain, four men in floor-length black robes were dragging a small figure across the cobblestones. It was a little girl, no older than seven, with messy black hair and two small, obsidian horns protruding from her forehead—a Halfling.
She was clawing at the stones, her small fingers bleeding, but the men didn't even look down.
Serena didn't wait for an order. In a blur of gold and white light, she lunged. She hit the lead man with a strike that sounded like a car crash, sending him spiraling twenty feet into a fruit stall. In the same motion, she scooped the girl into her arms and leapt backward, landing in a low, protective crouch. Her armor hummed with a defensive frequency.
"Hey!" one of the robed men shouted, stumbling back. "What are you doing? She belongs to the Still Heart! She belongs to him!"
Henry and the rest of the group stepped forward, their shadows lengthening across the square. Henry's voice was a low, terrifying vibration. "What do you want with a child?"
The man stepped back, his eyes darting to Henry's blackened blade. "She is today's tithe. A sacrifice for Morgrave. It is the Law of the Square."
"Are you out of your collective minds?" Serena yelled, her grip tightening on the trembling girl. "You're sacrificing a child to a monster?"
"We have to!" the man hissed, his voice cracking with fanatical fear. "He demands the blood of the 'In-Between.' We give him the Halflings, or his hunger turns on the rest of us! He protects us from the red mist, but the protection has a price!"
"How long?" Henry asked, his voice deathly quiet.
"Who are you to—"
Henry didn't let him finish. In an instant, Henry was gone. He reappeared in the man's personal space, his hand snapping out to grab the cultist's face. With a brutal, singular motion, he slammed the man's head into the pavement. The sound of stone cracking echoed through the silent square.
Henry leaned down, his eyes a swirling void of starlight. "Say how long."
"Years!" the man wheezed through a broken nose. "It's been going on for years! Long before the sky turned red!"
Henry didn't waste another word. He systematically dispatched the remaining three men—not with his sword, but with cold, efficient strikes that left them unconscious on the stones. He then gestured sharply to the mouth of a nearby dark alleyway. "Retreat. Now."
They huddled in the shadows of a narrow alley, the girl clinging to Serena's neck like a lifeline. Jack stood guard at the entrance, his top hat tilted as he watched the "peaceful" citizens continue their shopping as if the assault hadn't happened.
"This confirms it," Henry said, leaning against the damp brick. "Viroth was the only entity summoned three weeks ago. This thing, Morgrave... he's a local. He's been here the whole time, and the Council never noticed."
"So why did we only detect him now?" Jack asked, his manic grin looking a bit more jagged. "If he's been the city's dirty little secret for years, why did the sensors only start screaming when the portal opened?"
Charlie stepped out of the deepest shadow, his voice a muffled rasp. "Because when Viroth arrived, she tried to consume the entire city. Morgrave couldn't stay hidden and keep his territory. He had to manifest his full power to push her back and maintain the Square. We detected two 'God-level' signatures and assumed they were both new arrivals. We didn't realize we were looking at an intruder fighting a squatter."
"So the 'Reverend' and his congregation have been hiding a monster in the basement of the Cathedral for a decade," Roderick muttered, disgusted. "And they're using those prisoners—the Black Altar—to bolster their defenses against Viroth."
The girl started gaining consciousness.