A devouring haze encircled a kneeling woman, with booming footsteps echoing beyond her sight along phantoms murmuring into her ears. She attempted to raise her head, to fight back, but a firm, translucent hand clasped her chin and held her still.


    “Hmm… This was quite easy. Perhaps we should invade the Wings more often. Hana? What do you think?”


    The woman shifted her eyes just in time to see a watery projectile sail through the haze and into her robotic eye, snuffing out the camera.


    <ul>


    <li>


    The last transmitted video of Centurion Amea.


    </li>


    </ul>


    “You shouldn’t have done that. What if it stabbed your brain? You’d be dead. Fucking idiot,” a bitter tone echoed over the clash of metal against the Anarchy’s keratinous claws. Dante snapped his head toward Judas, who had reformed above, sitting on the second-floor railing with his legs dangling over the edge.


    Judas, however, didn’t like Dante’s gaze and blasted him with a jeer, “What are you looking at me for? You’ve got an Anarchy to kill, don’t you?”


    Dante cursed under his breath, only stopping midway through as he felt the intensity of a gaze on him. He turned back to see Lucius fighting the Anarchy, toe-to-toe like a seasoned Seafarer. Dante couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine as a spark from Lucius’ spear flew past his eyes.


    This guy is dangerous. Highly. Even with those wounds. Is he human? He looks it... but no. Not possible. They were all wiped out during the First Spiral War.


    The strange warrior roared at him to erase his thoughts, the voice rough but unmistakably demanding, “Help, you bastard! Can’t you see it’s too strong?”


    From the man’s scars alone, most would have waged that he was too prideful to accept help. But it seemed such was not the case.


    As he rubbed the spot where a hole in his shirt and chest should be, he noticed how his clothes returned as well. An idle thought wagged over to the strengthening of his ability, but he didn’t have time to consider it. Instead, he drew his gun and hollered for Joan, “Joan! Get it in the leg! We’ll try to slow it for you!”


    The Juggler Biotic was supposed to last for an hour. They hadn’t been fighting for that long yet, so Joan still had some time to join in. The bounty hunter turned soon-to-be-hunted-bounty darted ahead, drawing a knife to match his revolver, “Rejo! On me!”


    Dante exuded confidence, something he had taught himself to do, regardless of the fear in his heart. It increased the chance of survival, both in social and painful conditions. Deep within, he was not so stable, for the outward bravado hid a flooding of fear.


    He nearly died a moment ago. A second too late on his connection to the Lightsea, and he’d be gone. Forever. Shaky hands tightened as Dante realized just how deep into this marsh he was.


    They are fast. So fast. My augments won’t be able to keep up for more than a few seconds before overheating and burning my insides. Rejo will get torn apart. He’ll just have to keep his distance, yet this man needs help. So... it’ll have to be me.


    He slid under a lashing tail, unloading a round into the Anarchy’s leg as he surged forward. Lucius’ spear whistled through the air, aiming for the creature’s head, but it ducked, retaliating with a clawed swipe that would have been lethal if not for Lucius’ speed. The massive man caught the Anarchy’s wrist just shy of his face, straining under its force.


    Dante saw the wobble in the hold, knowing that it wouldn’t last long. He drew closer, knowing very well he may die again.


    The man leaped in without hesitation. While grappling the Anarchy’s other arm, he plunged his knife toward its tail. During the scuffle, a series of bullets rang out from Rejo, striking the Anarchy before Dante called for their heaviest hitter, “Joan!”


    Her name howled into the air as Dante’s insides boiled, the augments working overtime and breaking apart at their seams. Dante overwhelmed Anaphages, but an Anarchy was different. It didn’t help this one was a possible higher form, likely too much to bear.


    As Dante gritted his teeth and pulled with all his might, he felt himself on the verge of bursting from the inside until a flutter of air graced his face. With a smile, knowing what had to occur, Dante glanced down. There, he found a basin-sized hole in the Anarchy’s chest.


    The monster stumbled, and the human fell backward, already exhausted from such violence. It was fortunate, for as he retreated, the Martian advanced, swinging his spear with the lethality to behead anything.


    A rolling skull hit the floor, the corpse already phasing back to the Lightsea. Dante collapsed to the ground, his augments screaming for attention and rest. They allowed his body to work beyond its limits, but not without a price.


    His muscles were torn, his ligaments shredded, and his energy levels decimated. All of that, just to keep up with this...


    Martian. He has to be one. Ha... And I thought I was rare. Hopefully... he doesn’t hold a grudge.


    A hand descended to Dante’s face while he labored to think of what to do next. There was a threat before him, and so he noticed the offered palm several seconds late.


    “Are you going to take it? I’m not going to kill you,” Lucius said, a hint of a smile breaking through his otherwise stoic expression. “You saved Arch. I’m Lucius, by the way.”


    Dante gazed upward as he was hauled to his feet with the accepted handshake, Lucius towering over his height. The blood from the massive man crashed downward as if challenging the human. As such, Dante’s mind rushed for answers, attempting to figure out who this was, until it ultimately hit him.


    A Martian. Said to be wiped out. Strong enough to kill an Anarchy. Or more. Without a hint of the Lightsea. He’s worked for some dangerous folk, then. Dangerous enough to hide all existence of him. Then... how is he here? Only one answer.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Dante found his answer with complete confidence. As he often was, his guess identified the mark with precision.


    He’s off their leash. A rogue agent.


    The most threatening hound is one without its owner to coral it. Dante knew this well, so he chose his words with extreme caution.


    “Dante Penance. A joy to meet you. These are my... friends. The abomination is Joan. She’ll shift back soon. The little one is Sonna, and the Araki goes by Rejo. How... do you know API?”


    Lucius chuckled while tearing off a piece of the gray jumpsuit from the corpse of a prisoner on the main floor. Then he tied it around a crooked gash across his ribs, revealing the insides of his body. It did little for all his wounds, but he continued to tend to himself while motioning for the young man to come over. All the while, his injuries seemed to wriggle and spasm, an unnatural regeneration taking place.


    Archimedes stumbled over rumble and corpses with a grimace to reach the two he recognized.


    Meanwhile, Lucius’ tone fell to gravel, harsh in nature and threatening on such a slippery day, “Met him here. Out of all the bastards in this place, Arch isn’t half bad. Are you, buddy?” he called Archimedes over with a nod. “I promised I’d get him out. You got a problem with that?”


    Dante shook his head, assuring the man no such problem existed. Furthermore, he hinged on kindness instead of necessity with his words, “Not at all. We’re here to free him. Kid doesn’t deserve this, let alone an execution,” he turned to Rejo next. “Grab the white syringe from my pack—it’s Joan’s Neutralant. Joan, once you’re yourself again, patch Lucius up.”


    The human collapsed to a chair, his ass slamming into the nearly broken thing that somehow survived the violence. Lucius returned a nod of thanks while Sonna crept forward. A harrowing change occurred behind them while Joan returned to her normal shape.


    The crackling of bones inundated their ears and caused both Sonna and API to flinch while the two veterans spoke.


    “What happened here? Anathema or higher?” Lucius asked, as if experienced with such a foe. Dante could only nod, his shaky hand reaching toward the entry hallway.


    The human pivoted back to face his race’s fabled creation, “Yeah. His name was Astraeus. Had some sort of control over space with the Lightsea.”


    Dante continued, explaining the general situation while walking. Lucius soon learned of the Judge planning on slaying the Anathema.


    Both sat in silence for a moment while Sonna ogled Lucius. He turned to face her for a beat before waving his head in annoyance. His focus returned to Dante even as Joan shambled by, muttering something about ligament structure.


    Stitches were already suturing into Lucius’ flesh while some serum aided the regeneration of his cells. Still, his eyes squinted at Dante. The man met the gaze, knowing a question was coming.


    “You’re new, aren’t you? I saw you only use the Lightsea once. Either you’re a prodigious liar, or you’re new. Because I can tell you’re not stupid,” the Martian rumbled into the now-empty prison, crackling with hints of flame.


    Resistant to the heat, the building endured quietly, but Dante’s attention was distracted from it all by a voice in his ear, “Don’t say a damned word to him. He’ll kill you.”


    Dante’s head twisted to the side in reaction, and he immediately knew he made a mistake. Lucius pounced with another question, “What are you looking at?”


    “Nothing. Yeah. You got me. I’ve only had a Qualae for a few days. Still new to it all. Kind of on the run, too. The powers that be don’t like humans all that much,” Dante edged the line between honesty and falsity as he spoke. He didn’t want Lucius to know too much about him. It would be better to keep him at a distance.


    “Heh! Ain’t that the truth? Well, I recommend you at least learn how to pull some droplets into your body. Even if we are in an incomplete Domain, it’ll make a vast difference in a fight. And you. Over there. What is your Tide?” Lucius asked as his virulent pupils stared square at the least expected body in the room.


    Sonna.


    The woman stuttered backward in surprise, pointing a finger at herself, “Wh—what do you mean? I don’t. I’m perfectly normal. No voices in my head. No powers. Nothing. Just a Weren.”


    Dante glanced at Sonna, confused as he recalled Judas’ hint, but the Martian quickly stomped away all doubts, “I sense the Lightsea on you. In you. What do you mean voices? Qualae don’t talk. Either they take over, or they don’t. If you’re hearing voices, something’s wrong.”


    A chill ran down Dante’s spine as time appeared to slow. For all others, nothing happened. The conversation continued as normal, and the human didn’t move an inch. Within Dante’s mind, however…


    The shadows lengthened, and darkness overtook reality. A pair of spindly, growing nails grew out from behind Lucius’ skull as the gloaming took everything over. Dante saw nothing but the void before him. From that midnight, eyes opened of pale yellow and glistering in arrogance.


    “Hush now.”


    It didn’t look like Judas. It didn’t look like him at all. The creature looked… more like Dante than his brother, as if stuck in-between the two. Worse yet...


    Dante saw the threat on the mystery’s face and swallowed. None saw the what conspired between the human and his possessor, for their focus rested on Sonna as she shuddered in a similar fear.


    Everyone hushed for her breakdown, for her knees struck the concrete with tears already beginning to drip in clusters, “No. No. Nonononononononono! I don’t want this! Dante! Take it out of me! Please!”


    Lucius shook his head and reached forward to place a firm hand on her head. The brunette’s hair mashed beneath his hand did little to help the chaos in her mind, nor did his words as he stated, “There is no removing a Qualae. I’m surprised you didn’t know, though... Still, you will be fine. Just don’t use whatever Stigmata or Tide you have, and they won’t develop. Should be pretty easy. Of course, you will draw in the Lightsea, however, so that may not be the best path for you.


    Archimedes moved closer to Dante. The boy’s concentration fell onto the man and no one else at this moment, his voice barely a whisper, “Why did you come for me? It’s been years since...” his words rolled off into nothingness due fear, but Dante knew what he was getting at.


    It was clear to everyone how Dante thought. He’d never come just to get him.


    He’d worry about that later, though. For now, they needed to get moving. Dead darkness only brought more in. At least, that’s how Dante thought the saying went.


    “I wasn’t lying. It was to save you. I also would like you to join me. But we can worry about that later, and you are always free to say no. There are more important things for now. Lucius? How do I harness these droplets? Do you have any ideas of where to go?” Dante spoke, needing guidance despite his desire to see Lucius begone.


    Lucius held knowledge that no one else did within the group


    The Martian finished dressing his wounds as Joan checked his bandages, possessing some answers, “We need to find that Judge, Claudius, right? He’ll be gathering any Seafarers or Psions he can find. I bet he’s heading here next to rally those in Neg-Three. We won’t get off this planet unless we kill that Anathema or drive it off.”


    Dante in understanding. He saw the logic that they would have to join up with Claudius, but something in the back of his brain warned him not to. Still... there really was only one other option, which was hoping Arch could improve the Starsinger enough to fly during such an event.


    Dante didn’t like putting all his eggs in one basket, even if he believed in Archimedes’ success.


    As Dante forced himself to stand, he proposed a deciding question to Lucius, “Okay, where do you think he’d be?”


    Joan’s regenerative serum had done wonders, and while he could reach out to the Lightsea, he was fearful of what it might mean.


    It seemed others struggled to commune with it while an Anathema had grounded the interdimensional entity. As for Dante, however... he didn’t like how easy it was for him now. It felt... wrong. He blended into Astraeus’ Domain with an eerie ease.


    “Does it matter? I say we sit tight and wait until Claudius returns. More will come, yes, but we can defend ourselves. Especially if you hand me a weapon,” Lucius stood, too, putting his hand out for the undeniable.


    The images in Dante’s mind were finally clicking.


    With Lucius standing guard, Dante could rest easy, knowing this place was secure. Meanwhile, he could leave with Arch to check on his ship. API could give it a quick once over, and the kid would know his limits then and there.


    The plan shifted from hollow to possessing muscle as his mind shifted into gear.


    If Archimedes is confident, then I can rush back and pick up the others. Probably. If he’s not... We’ll come back, anyway. But I’ll have to bring someone with me.


    Who?


    Dante’s eyes swam over the others. He noted Joan’s fatigue and the strain of using her Biotics too much for what had already transpired. She’ll need to sleep a bit to use another one, whether it’s Juggler, Pouncer, or Rat.


    Shaking his head, he pushed on to the next. Rejo. Rejo was a good option. But... his eyes twisted over to Sonna. The Araki no longer had a Qualae. If he did, Lucius would have noticed it. That was, unless the man’s senses were not as sharp as he believed.


    As for the Weren, it made perfect sense a Dirge had found her in the chaos. She was on the ship, after all, and she didn’t die like the others. Dante didn’t think she was compromised like Rejo was, but he wanted to monitor her.


    Who knew what her Stigmata was? Or what might lie within her? The only piece that restrained his paranoia was that she never displayed a hint of odd behavior like Rejo did on the ship.


    Such made his decision. Dante put a hand on Archimede’s head of overgrown hair from being in a cell and brought himself to the young man’s height, “Do you want to see if you can make a starship fly through this madness?”


    When presented with a task, a challenge, Pythagoras’s eyes lit up with anticipation. The human shared a curt nod with Lucius, one that carried many words but sounded none.


    “Yes! I’ll do my best,” the boy radiated his joy outward, finally free of his prison.


    Dante could only grin, feeling a warmth in his chest at seeing such a thing. Then, he turned to his other companion, “Good. Sonna. You’re with us. We’ll get the ship and come back here for the rest. If something goes wrong, we’ll come back immediately.”


    Sonna looked panicked, backing away with a frantic shake of her head. Dante sighed. He should have expected this.