i have updated the previous two chapters. reasons for edits:

-indicate passage of time in the Prologue (one year between Karn being attacked and the scene in the council room)
-change Junior Chairman to Deputy Chairman
-edit the conversation between Adam and Loomis slightly, but not substantially enough as to change the plot
-fix capitalization error in chapter 2 title
-general sexiness

i also post this on AO3 and am seriously considering not updating it here anymore. FFN is kind of terrible

The queen was smaller than he expected, yet those pale eyes commanded as much strength as a Drone and were as piercing as daggers. Skorge guessed everyone must have felt the same when meeting her for the first time.

"Did you do it?" she asked. Sitting upon that high throne, she looked like an Inquisitor herself, but this was the council room, and he wasn't arguing for his life.

He felt obligated to answer her honestly. "Does it matter? They'll believe whatever they want about me."

"Yes, but I'd like to know who I'm dealing with."

"No," he sighed, exasperated. "It's not even possible to do what they say I did. Lambent can't be called. I've never seen Lambent in my visions." He squirmed in his chair, as uncomfortable under her gaze as he was under the weighty glares of the Inquisitors, even if he was much safer. "A-and if they were attracted to me, it wasn't on purpose. I would never...ever…"

Myrrah held up a hand. "I believe you. I also agree with you; the Kantus will believe whatever they wish. It is very difficult to change their minds. I'm about to suggest something that you're going to find appalling, but I believe you'll see my point."

Skorge looked up. "What is that, Your Majesty?"

"Exile," she said. Her gaze never wavered, her voice didn't change. "I propose sending you to Lower Nexus under the pretense of banishment. There are far fewer Kantus in Lower. You can wait all this out and come back once they've gotten over...whatever problem it is they seem to have with you."

Suprise and fear kept him from responding; there was no good way to reply. He glanced at RAAM, standing stoic and tall by his side. The Drone's jaw was tight, his shoulders squared.

"This isn't a formal order," Myrrah said. "It's an idea. What do you think? Could you live in Lower Nexus until the Kantus forget their grievances?"

"They never would," Skorge muttered. "They won't. They can't."

"I'll be frank with you, Skorge." Myrrah leaned forward, placing her hands on the table. "I believe the Kantus will kill you if you stay here. They already floated the idea of execution when you were in court." She nodded towards RAAM. "It took no small effort to get Vrol to back off after your stunt with that machete. You're lucky you're walking free."

"I don't regret it," RAAM answered, his voice like stones grinding together. "Your Majesty."

"Some of them won't accept your freedom, even it comes from me," she went on. "They might take matters into their own hands. I do not mean to alarm you, Skorge. I wouldn't say this unless I believed the threat to be real, and judging by Vrol's demeanor, it very much is."

"With intended honor, Queen Myrrah," Skorge said, "what would be the point? Our world is ending. The Lambent will have us extinct in a couple of seasons."

"Did you see that in a vision?"

"No. I didn't have to."

"Skorge," RAAM started.

"I don't want to go through all this shit just to extend my life by a handful of weeks," Skorge shouted, turning upon the Drone. "I don't want to leave you, brother! You're all I have left! Let me die by your side, RAAM, I don't want to die all alone in Lower Nexus."

RAAM pulled him forward and crushed him against his chest. Skorge wanted to take comfort, but he knew his brother only did things like this when he was emotionally distraught. There was only one thing that would cause him such distress.

"I want you to go," RAAM said.

"No—but, RAAM—"

"When your father came to Khadon with you, two seasons ago, he asked me to be your friend, to look out for you. This is it. This is me looking out for you."

Skorge pushed away just enough to look RAAM in the eye. He had no words, but he hoped the look on his face was imploring enough.

"Do you remember when we were outside the city, waiting for someone to find us?" RAAM asked. "We were almost out of water. I kept telling you to take it but you refused. They told me you forced it into me after I passed out. I felt like such a failure, Skorge. I couldn't protect you. I can't protect you now, from your own people. But going to Lower Nexus would help you. Our fates aren't guaranteed. We'll find a way to survive, and I need you there when we start rebuilding."

It was frightening, to be alone, but he realized then that if he died, RAAM would be alone. The thought gave him a peculiar strength. He looked at Myrrah. "I...I accept. Will he be able to visit?"

"I don't see why not."

"I'll be busy, but I'll get down there as much as possible." RAAM gave him a final squeeze, then released him. "You'll see. It won't be so bad, and it won't be forever."

Adam pulled into the estate. The lights were on in the first floor—Jake was home and hadn't gone upstairs yet. He wasn't ready for social interaction yet, not when his thoughts were still so tangled and hazy, so he resolved to get to his study as quickly as possible.

The first thing Adam heard when he opened the front door was the TV. He glanced into the den and saw Jake sitting cross-legged on the couch, cradling a large glass between his knees and drinking from it with a silly straw. On the TV, a machine was mechanically wrapping chocolate bars while the narrator described the process.

Adam moved to the kitchen, guiltily hoping his son didn't notice him. An unopened envelope sat on the table. A happy little jolt went through him when he saw who it was from—Elain. Letters from the Hollow were unpredictable thanks to the difficult travel, this one being almost a week late. It offered a welcome distraction.

It was short:

I hope things have gotten more exciting for you guys up there. Work's slow around here, by which I mean we haven't made any progress at all. It's frustrating and it's hard to be optimistic when your subjects seem to actively defy your attempts to udnerstand them.

Remember when I said how huge the Hollows were? How the caves went on forever and you could almost trick yourself into seeing the ceiling as a sky? I don't feel that way anymore. The Hollows feel tiny when you've spent a while down here. No wind or sunlight. It's a little maddening.

But good news! I'm rotating out of here next month for the holiday. Be sure to tell the boys. And tell me sometime interesting. How was Jacob's recital? Any updates about Marcus? What about you? Let me in on some government secrets.

I love you,

Elain

His heart was beating faster, not only from the excitement of hearing from her, but because of her unintentional confirmation of his fears. It seemed Loomis was right about the cure—if Elain was having trouble finding it, then nobody else would be doing any better. Nobody was more dedicated to the Locust's plight than Elain Fenix, and nobody had better equipment to solve the problem. He wondered if she was the one who reported to the COG about Lambency, if she was the reason Loomis approached him earlier.

When he saw Loomis again, he'd use his position to leverage more resources for her work. If the COG was going to put effort into killing the Locust, they could put equal effort into saving them. In that way, he could support Elain, even while he worked to do something she would have found abhorrent.

He set the envelope down where Jake could find it. He needed to eat but nothing was appealing, so he put two apples in his pockets and would force them down once he was in his study. On the way out of the kitchen, Jake rounded the corner and startled at his appearance.

"Dad! I didn't know you were home." He had a slightly alarmed tone, and was probably thinking of the forbidden glass on the couch. Jacob had lighter hair and darker eyes than his brother, and was thinner than Marcus had been at his age.

"I just got back. There's a letter from Mom in the kitchen."

"Cool." Jacob cleared his throat. "I was going to go upstairs just now. I just wanted more chocolate milk. Then I'm going to do my homework and stuff."

Adam nodded. "I'm going to be in my study for a while. Please keep this glass in the kitchen, okay?"

"Okay…" He slipped past Adam.

Adam had tried harder with Jake, but it still felt like living with a tiny stranger who looked like him. Especially on nights like these, when he was too stressed to try, too drained to do what came unnatural to him. He should have asked how Jake's day went, or if he needed help with homework, or seen how he wanted to respond to Mom's letter.

Instead Adam retreated to his study, locked the door, and sank into the large office chair at his desk. He bowed his head into his hands, sinking deeper into the thick snarl of dark emotions that had been building up all day. How was he supposed to react to this? He doubted a web search would yeild answers.

Dear Elain. She must have known what the COG knew, but she wasn't giving up. In a way, he hated it. There were plenty of people who hated the Locust, who would have relished in the Horde's painful destruction, but his wife adored them. Why was Adam given the role of Reaper? Why not someone who hated Locust, whose spouse hated Locust?

The question's the answer, Adam thought suddenly, raising his head. Those bastards. They know I'll hesitate. They don't want random destruction, but they need the option. It really is a last resort for them. Maybe that was the truth, or maybe he only wanted to believe it. Either way, Adam felt better. He would, in his own way, help guard the Horde against extinction; he wasn't working in opposition to Elain, but at a right angle to her.

With his mood boosted, he felt well enough to eat his apples. He held one while fishing for a pen and paper. Since his job didn't start until tomorrow, he would kill time, first by drafting a response to Elain.

Things have been slow for me as well, he wrote. But in my line of work that's a good thing! I hope you have something exciting to share by the time this reaches you, but I know you're working hard. If you're not progressing the way you want, it's not your fault.

Jacob's recital was great. I'm not sure exactly where Marcus is because he's still in the Inner Hollow. I'll send you another letter right away if I hear anything. We all miss you and can't wait for your return.

Adam set the pen down and flexed his hand, his wrist tight. Writing was such an archaic method of communication, but there was no internet, phone, not even as much as a telegram between the Hollows and the surface.

He glanced around the study, looking for something else to occupy his mind. The night was young and he knew he wouldn't fall asleep soon, so he needed a new distraction. Anything was fine, as long as it wasn't about his new project, working relationship with Colonel Loomis, or the lies he was going to tell Elain.

Skorge leaned against the lodge, gasping for breath, one hand splayed over his pounding hearts. The stairs to the third floor seemed like a mountain right now; of all the bad decisions he'd made in his ninenteen seasons, running home was currently number one. His feet were numb, his legs tingled, and an uncomfortable pressure pushed under his hide.

He took the stairs slow. On the first landing he paused, feeling his hearts calming, but the pins and needles under his skin had gotten worse. This happened every time he exerted himself, and it wouldn't go away anytime soon.

He dragged himself to their room. Nobody was awake and the privacy curtains were drawn, making it dark. He stepped over to his bed, knelt, and grabbed a pack from underneath. It was thick, sturdy, and had many compartments.

Inside were emergency supplies—a little knife, a first aid kit, flint, a torch, a big knife, and in the biggest pocket, a modified Gorgon pistol. He clipped the pack's belt around his waist and tightened it, noting he'd lost some weight since he wore it last.

When he raised his head, Skain was looking at him. Skorge hissed. "What are you doing awake!"

"Watching you," Skain answered evenly. "Am I not allowed to do that?"

"No. Be quiet please."

Skain covered his eyes with a hand. He was grinning. "What are you doing that's so secret?"

Skorge glanced around at the sleeping forms of his friends. Their dorm had always been one of the emptier ones, and also more static; people rarely came, and even more rarely did they leave. He sighed and turned to Skain.

"I have to go somewhere. It shouldn't take long, but it's urgent. I didn't want to wake you…"

"You didn't want me to come," Skain said. "Is it dangerous?"

Skorge averted his gaze for half a second, which he knew was answer enough. He tried to salvage it. "No, not exactly. There is some risk. There's risk in a lot of things. I'll be fine by myself."

"Where are you going?" Skain pushed himself up, his teal eyes intense and unwavering. Someone shifted around in their blankets. "Will you just tell me what's going on?"

"Fine." Skorge looked around the room again, then drew closer to Skain. "I had a vision by the river. I have to tell RAAM."

"Just call him."

"He's in Upper, Skain. I can't. I have to go there."

From the back of Skain's throat came a low hum, a sound of agitation and excitement. Skorge heard rustling from behind him, then a confused chirp from Dez.

"What are you two doing? Luce! Tial! They're up to something!"

Skorge growled at Skain, but it was too late to get angry. Within moments, everyone was awake and multiple sets of eyes were staring at him. He sat on the bed next to Skain, their shoulders touching.

"I'm not up to anything," Skain said. "He's the one sneaking around past his bedtime!"

"I think I heard that you were leaving," Dez said.

"Could we get an explanation?" Luce asked.

Skorge dug his fingers into his thin bicep. "I had a vision. Something's going to happen to RAAM. I need to warn him." He struggled to keep his voice from warbling. "It's urgent."

"You had a vision," Luce said. "Here?"

"By the river. I went out. I've been feeling a pull there for a while but I ignored it and…" Skorge was cut by deep shame. "I can't ignore it anymore. I shouldn't have left it for so long. It might already be too late! I can't sit around here!" The Drones, Dez, and even Skain looked at him. Skorge's hearts sank. "You don't believe me."

The room was silent for a moment. Dez spoke up, "I believe you, but what matters is what you believe. If you think RAAM is in danger, and the only way to contact him is by going to Upper Nexus, then you should go."

"But not alone," Skain said.

"You've never been to Upper Nexus," Skorge said.

"Yeah, but I know how to throw a punch."

"No, I meant…"

Skain's shoulders slumped. "I could handle it."

"I don't want to draw too much attention," Skorge said. "And I don't want to inconvenience anyone. It's best if I go alone."

Luce was tapping his chin. "What's the problem with Skain?"

"I'm a Chimera," Skain muttered. "Chimera draw attention." Skorge glanced at him with sharp guilt.

Luce turned to one of the shelves that lined the walls, rummaging through things. Skorge stood.

"My vision showed a terrible fate for my brother," he said. "I must go. Now. I have everything I need."

"Here," Luce said, grasping a long piece of grey fabric in his hand. "Wear this, Skain. It'll hide your spurs."

Skain took the fabric from Luce. It was a long, voluminous scarf, the kind designed to go over the head like a hood. He draped it over himself and Luce adjusted it around his shoulders. "As long as nobody looks too close, you look just like any other Kantus."

Skorge lingered near the door, fussing with the clasps on his pack. "We should go now."

"Okay." Skain raised a hand to the others as he walked over. "Don't mess with my stuff."

"I wasn't going to but you had to say that," Dez replied.

"Get back soon," Luce said.

"Safe," Tial rasped, in a voice so low it was basically subvocalized.

"We will," Skorge said, feeling a twinge of hesitation or guilt. "We'll get back as soon as possible. See you later."

Outside, the night was cool and still. The few other dormitories around them were dark, as were the buildings across the street. They lived in a small tunnel jutting from the main Lower Nexus shaft, almost as far as one could get from the city while still being in the city, and besides those scant structures the land was empty. The silence was its own kind of noise.

Skain shivered, swiping his hands up his arms. "I hate being out at night," he muttered. "It's so cold."

"Don't cut the sleeves off your tunics."

"What else am I supposed to do if I have a pair of scissors and I'm bored?"

Skorge's legs began to twinge, and he acutely felt his lack of sleep. They were starting to climb an incline now, which would take them into town, but between there and here, there was nowhere to rest, and only rock and glowing mushrooms for company. He had few ways to distract himself, except for Skain.

"Why did you want to go alone?"

"Why did you want to come?" Skorge heard Skain's irritated hum.

"Because you wanted to be alone! You never want to be alone!"

"It's dangerous," Skorge snapped. "I don't want to be alone, but I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I thought you said your vision was about RAAM."

Skorge became uncomfortably aware of his body, concerned he would give away his untruth with a tic. "It was, but that doesn't mean we couldn't get caught up in it. Not to mention the hostility the city may show to you."

Skain's look was suspicious, scrutinizing, but he'd stopped vocalizing. Eventually he took his eyes away from Skorge and observed the ground and walls around them.

This is like the Inner Hollows, Skorge thought. It was a small, fleeting, unbidden thought that rang around the inside of his skull like a bullet. His chest tightened, and he slowed his pace while he glanced around, suddenly taken by unidentifiable uncertainty. He told himself he was in Lower Nexus, not the Hollows; he was fine, safe, with his boyfriend and not his brother, and town was just ahead of them.

Skain, now several feet ahead, had stopped to wait for him. Skorge reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing as hard as he could without causing pain. It was true; he didn't ever want to be alone. That was why he lied.

He thought he'd hidden his vision from everyone to prevent panic, but now he realized he didn't want to scare Skain out of going with him. Skain's loyalty had an upper boundary. Skorge's selfishness did not.

They followed the road around a bend, the tunnel widening around them while the first intimations of sound drifted to them from town, as low and steady as the rush of blood in the head. The first buildings, squat metal cubes, loomed ahead, and even at this hour, people were bustling through the streets.

Much of Lower Nexus's structure still resembled a mine. The Corpser-dug main shaft was pitted with smaller tunnels where miners had followed a vein, with wide ramps, carved from natural rock, connecting them to the ground. Roads now covered those paths instead of minecart tracks, and people had placed buildings on every flat surface, giving the town a tiered look. In some places the roads weren't visible, making the buildings appear to be growing on top and out of each other, climbing the tunnel walls like moss.

Since it was so cramped, there weren't many escape routes for smells or sounds. Any neighborhood of Lower had a perpetual perfume of bodies and smog and animals and dirt, which was easy enough for a Kantus to ignore, with their weak noses, but not the noise. Footsteps, creaking wheels, clanging metal, speech, vocalizations, half a dozen little noises one couldn't identify from the din—a young child would get overwhelmed, but Skorge knew how to handle it.

He clung to Skain's side, and together they slipped through crowds, dodged cart drivers, and kept away from dark alleys. "Are we taking a Reaver?" Skain asked, shouting to be heard—not over the noise, but through Skorge's tightly shut ears.

"I'm not walking."

Skain pointed to a building perched high over the main street. A Reaver was poised on the rooftop, prepared to launch. Skorge watched as it threw itself over the edge and plummetted towards the ground, only to rise again, venting gas from its flight organs to propel its massive body through the air. It disappeared with its passengers into the distance.

"I'm glad they built this place up," Skain said, tugging Skorge in the direction of the stable. "We didn't have that last season."

Ten minutes later they entered the building. The front was a waiting area, where Skorge and Skain sat after registering at the desk. They were the only patrons, so it didn't take long before a suitable Reaver was prepared and the rider summoned them to the takeoff area. After the short respite, climbing the flight of stairs was especially painful.

The Reaver stood patiently on the roof, and at its rider's command it bent its tentacles, lowering its back towards the ground. Skorge and Skain hoisted themselves onto the saddle, which was warm and smelled like clean leather. He told himself he'd stay awake for the four hour journey, but after he strapped in, he leaned against Skain, his strength fleeing him. He wasn't awake when they took off.