Reawakening
Chapter 9: Wrath and Chaos (1)


So this is what a bad invasion looks like. Good thing they didn't wait to wake me up for a competent one.

Lance was sitting in his room, allegedly planning some new lessons, but he was really just brooding over the new information the team had brought back. Mostly background, ultimately. A little something more tactical would've been nice. But it was better than nothing, and gods knew they'd spent enough time working with nothing.

So. A collaborator who'd studied Voltron. That explained an awful lot. Lance kind of wished they could borrow this Zeliax; obviously he'd put more effort into things than the Alliance ever had. But no sense worrying much more about that. Just assume the Drules knew as much as they knew, and go from there.

Much more interesting was the vision Vince said he'd had...

A reaction with the Nexus? No. Lance knew what it was he'd really seen, and wondered again if he should tell the kids the full truth. But there was still no point in that, it changed very little. The issue wasn't supposed to be where the power had gone, it was why it hadn't come back in three and a half centuries.

That was why the vision was so interesting. What was hidden in that moment that Red Lion needed them to see? Or had he just been trying to tell the cubs what Lance already knew? Maybe he really should...

No. They don't need to deal with that. Bad enough that we had to deal with it.

"Damn, guys," he whispered to the empty room. No. To the ghosts he constantly carried with him, always in the back of his mind. "I wish..."

I wish you were here...

That wasn't helping anything. But Lance wasn't used to feeling so damn lost. It wasn't just the ache of watching the kids fly without him. Flying Red hadn't just deepened that ache—though it had certainly done that. But more importantly, it had made him see the power drain up close and personal. In the old days he would've had that troop cruiser down. What happened when the Drules got more experience, and the robeasts got stronger?

Why the hell did I ever agree to this?

Immediately he hated himself for asking that question. He remembered...


"You're sure about this, Lance?" Keith's eyes bored into him, two slivers of glacial ice, as cold as they always were when he didn't approve of someone's decisions. Lance was very used to that look. "I'm still pretty sure I should be the one volunteering, if someone's going to go under."

"Dude, remember Wade? Teaching is kind of my wheelhouse. Besides, you've still got a lot of Commander-ing left to do here and now, never mind the whole 'you have a wife' thing." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, sweeping his gaze over the other three impatiently. "And so do you, Viking Scourge, so don't even start."

"Wasn't going to. I don't really have any grounds to object, do I? I may still hold my bond to Blue, but I know I'd hardly be appropriate for the task." Sven sighed. "But it doesn't seem right to just... lock you away."

"This was your idea. Don't get all wishy-washy now."

"My idea? My idea? I made an offhand suggestion—"

"—Boys, honestly." Allura shook her head and held up a hand for silence. "The fact remains that the suggestion was a good one. Good, but not imperative." She turned to face Lance, the exasperation with their usual bickering giving way to a deep concern. "You're right, Lance. If someone is going to do this, you make the most sense. But nobody has to do this. When the five of you first came to Arus..."

"...We at least had you and Coran. We didn't have to go into it totally blind." He paused, trying to decide how to phrase this. It wasn't exactly that he wanted to be put into stasis, to abandon everything he'd ever known for the uncertainties of the distant future. It was something much deeper than that. "I understand, you guys. This is a big thing. And there's no promises with it and it kind of scares the hell out of me. But don't you see?" With a frustrated scowl of his own he jumped up and began pacing around the conference room. "This is what the Voltron Force is now. The four of us. Three and a half if Sven wants to be modest about it."

Sven snorted. "Realistic."

"Whatever. But you're still the Sky Marshal, not to mention prince consort of Pollux. That's a pretty decent other half. You two," he gestured to Allura and Keith, "you rule Arus, which is also kind of a big deal, in case all the diplomatic functions hadn't gotten that across. Hell, they're already saying once you guys are gone they might have to split the planet into provinces or something, they don't think anyone else could handle the kind of power they've so happily given you. And Hunk and Pidge..." His voice broke slightly. "...well, they've got the whole heroic death thing going for them. But me? I dunno. Sometimes I feel like I didn't end up pulling my weight."

Immediately Keith's stern look turned into an outright glare. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say, Lance, and frankly that's a title with some stiff competition."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I mean, I'd like to have contributed a little extra beyond my mad piloting skills, ravishing good looks, and magnetic personality."

Even Keith's glare turned into a smirk.

Allura's amusement faded after a moment, and she looked at him sadly. "You have nothing to prove, Lance. Not to us, not to anyone on Arus or beyond. But the most important person, I can't speak for." She closed her eyes, those eyes he'd never quite gotten over, even as the more platonic love of his sister in arms overcame the old desire. "If you feel you must do this to prove something to yourself... it's your life. And we will support whatever decision you make. If this is what you have to do, your sacrifice will be honored."

Sacrifice. It sounded so noble when she said it like that, and he supposed he'd made it sound fairly noble himself. If only she knew the one selfish point he hadn't mentioned.

That last point was one he couldn't bring himself to speak. Not even here to his three closest friends, his only family—maybe especially not to them. Gods knew he didn't want to leave them. But there was a restlessness that still burned. With every year that passed by, something that had always seemed like such an absurd possibility started to look more likely...

Lance had never quite been able to see himself dying peacefully in bed. Granted, nothing about going into stasis promised he wouldn't do just that in a few hundred years, but at least he'd have fought one more war first. He had to do this. For the future, for Voltron... and for himself.

"I'm going under."


He opened his eyes, sighing. It wasn't that he'd ever expected this job to be glamorous. But maybe he'd hoped for something a bit less infuriating. The world was supposed to have changed in some manner that didn't put Voltron at every disadvantage. But then, it was when things looked the darkest that Voltron was really needed, wasn't it?

Us against the world, just like always. Just us against a different world now.

An alarm sounded, intruding on his thoughts, and he opened his room's own terminal before running for Control. The readings that came back were bizarre as usual... today they were picking up what looked like a robeast's energy signature, but no actual robeast.

"Alrighty then! Party time. Again."

Jumping up off the bed, he headed for the control room and his cadets. The future was a pain in the ass. But it was still his future, and he was damn well going to protect it as best he could.


Unnoticed by the defenders of Arus, weaving between tiny gaps in the sensor network, a single shuttle made its way down from the Drule fleet. Sharilar had spent the entire trip to the surface glaring at the heretic as he flew. He didn't appear to have noticed her glares, which usually would only have infuriated her more. Not today. Today, though the one who styled himself Zeliax didn't yet know it, his irritation would end one way or another.

He would make a fine robeast, no doubt...

Officially, his orders were to accompany her to the surface as a guide. With Kaela and all her finest scouts dead from the botched ambush, he was their only source of reliable information on the planet. The Circle needed new source material for the next wave of robeasts.

Oh, yes, they would find it... he wanted Voltron, and only Voltron, destroyed so badly? Then let him finally back up his arrogance, or die trying.

Zeliax did hold a certain power within, Sharilar was well aware of that. She could sense it when forced to be near him, a buried energy that was difficult to place. It would surely help after his transformation. But did he know how to use it now? The Witch-Primus doubted it. Where would a human learn the intricacies of the occult?

Besides, if he were actually dangerous, he'd surely have offered something more to the Emperor than just talk.

As it turned out he did know how to fly a shuttle at least; it came to ground on a cliff with barely a lurch. Smoothest landing she'd ever been through. Nodding in grudging appreciation, she still scowled at him as he shut down the engines and stood. "Let's get this over with."

"By all means." He inclined his head in a slight, mocking bow. "After you, Witch-Primus."

"Hmph." She stepped out onto the soft grass of Arus, taking it in for a moment. It was her first trip to the surface... yes, this was a beautiful world, lush and green and filled with life. Much of that life was far less objectionable than human scum, even.

This world shall be consecrated to the Lords of the Wild, a gift in the name of the Empire. And its bounty will fuel the conquest of its fellows, until all human space is under our control... the thought brought a genuine smile to her face. The right of the victors.

"We will set up camp here. I need some time to secure the area; kindly refrain from bothering me while I work."

"I wouldn't dream of bothering you, beyond the fact that my breathing usually does so."

Such disrespect... she glowered. "Make yourself useful in the meantime. Keep the watch."

"Of course." He turned away, a slight wind ruffling his cloak. "Though I'm surprised you'd deign to let me warn you of anything. Aren't you perfectly skilled on your own?"

"I acknowledge you have some uses, however menial." May all the Six Houses damn you to the highest hell.

"Get to it, then."

For a few seconds she simply watched him, letting a cold smile take hold on her face. Savoring the moment. Then she called out to the powers the Circle had amassed aboard the Hellbringer, the powers just waiting for her to summon and use. Everything was in place. Whispering an incantation and a prayer to the Lords of Order, a plea to twist the nature of reality itself, she drew upon that power and cast it at the heretic's back.

In a typical robeast transformation, the effect would be immediate. And painful. She watched eagerly, wanting to hear him scream in terror and agony... but something was wrong. He wasn't falling to the ground and writhing as the power consumed him. In fact he was barely reacting at all.

Then he turned, silver lightning flaring in his eyes. "Are you sure that's wise, Witch-Primus?"

What?!

No. She'd done something wrong, that was all. In her eagerness perhaps she'd jumped a little too quickly. Fine. Snarling the incantation again, she flung another burst of power. "Be silent and fall to your fate, heretic!"

Still nothing. Just that glow in his eyes as he turned to face her fully, and Sharilar couldn't help but take a step back from the icy rage that was suddenly radiating from him. That power... it was surging, intense and immediate, far greater than she'd anticipated. And it seemed he had some idea what to do with it after all.

A flash of energy gathered in his hand, coalescing into a crackling ball of lightning. "You could've just said yes. Does the Emperor know you're trying to get one of his valued tools killed?"

Scowling, she called a shield. He might be a more powerful foe than expected, but he was still a mere human. "No longer valued, heretic. The Emperor has seen sense, and has no use for your insolence any longer. You have overstepped your bounds!"

"...Have I, now?" He laughed, cold and mocking. "I believe he's overstepped his." Eyes flaring, he reached out, and the lightning lanced straight at her like a spear.

How dare he?

Her shield blocked the blast, though its force drove her back a few paces. This was not how things were supposed to develop at all, and Sharilar did not like having her plans derailed... never mind the robeast spell. He'd spoken such treason against the Emperor, he could simply die here in disgrace. No more talk. Actions would speak. Gathering herself she retaliated with a bolt of chaotic energy, one that would vaporize him where he stood.

For all the power she'd poured into the attack, the heretic didn't even try to avoid it. He just stood there, watching, eyes aglow. And the bolt dissipated around him like a gentle breeze.

How... how is this possible?

"I don't think we'll end this that way." He stepped forward, drawing a dark knife from beneath his cloak. "So all other things being equal..."

Snarl. "You are not my equal, blasphemer!"

"True. I'm not. But I was trying to be generous." With his free hand he cast a fireball at her, and she just barely got a new shield up in time to block it. "I didn't want this to be necessary, but..."

A roar in the sky cut him off.

Oh, surely not. Whirling around, she saw the one thing that could possibly make this more of a disaster: those damnable lions were approaching. Fast. Sharilar hissed a few curses under her breath as she realized what had to happen. She was no fool, and the greater threat here was clear... even her magics couldn't stand alone against Voltron. "On the subject of distasteful necessities, I think we may have to postpone—"

What cut her off was an impact to her back, a burst of wind that nearly threw her off the cliff. "They're not going to save you, and neither am I."

"Are you insane?" What could he possibly hope to accomplish like this? Against her and Voltron at once? "Do you think they'll spare you?"

Suddenly a jolt ran through the lions—she could see it, a physical shudder that nearly dropped them from the sky. Convenient, as it seemed to make them think twice about interfering. But also a bit worrisome. She hadn't done anything yet.

Zeliax couldn't possibly have such power...

Oddly, from his reaction she got the impression he might not have done anything either. He recoiled from the lions' arrival, the energy in his eyes dimming. But he was as arrogant as ever when he spoke. "Are you frightened of Voltron, Witch-Primus? Perhaps this is something you should've thought of before you turned on me." Another bolt of lightning sprang forth as the lions settled on the ground. "Too late to change your mind now!"

He was insane. Fine, then. She would end him here... and see what unfolded with Voltron. Though the pilots were dismounting now, as if whatever had struck their lions had shaken their confidence in the craft. That could change everything.

Yes, Voltron Force. Abandon the robot. Come running to your deaths!

"This was a private matter," she snapped as they charged, tossing a chaos bolt at the one in black as he led his companions. "You'll pay for your interference!"

"Oh, shut up," he snorted, dropping into a roll beneath the spell.

Next to him, the one in blue sprang into the air, a glowing staff appearing in her hands. "What he said! In case you hadn't noticed this is our planet, and we'll interfere as much as we damn well please!"

Such vulgarity. Who was this human child to speak of damnation? Sharilar cast a wave of force at the girl, knocking her from the air, then shot another energy burst at the huge beast in green. Next to him, the one in red froze for a moment. As the green one darted aside the red one's eyes washed out in white light, a weapon appearing in his hands. Some sort of spiked mace? The move made little sense to her. But the next moment, tendrils of that same light shot from his fingers, working their way up the mace's handle and extending whiplike from its spikes. What the? He swung the weapon at the burst of power she'd fired...

And knocked it back at her.

Sharilar had no time to react. The glowing bolt slammed into her chest, and though her own power would do her little harm, whatever he'd done to it was another story. A wave of distortion rippled around her, disrupting her carefully prepared energies, and as she attempted to retaliate nothing but a slight flicker came from her fingers.

Reflexively in the moment of panic she called a new shield. That worked. Her powers weren't fully disrupted, but without being able to project them her ability to attack was crippled.

Damn it all!

With Zeliax on one side and the Force on the other, her options were closing as tightly as the noose around her neck. Sharilar had many skills, but physical combat was a barbaric realm best left to others. Robbed of her offensive spells there was little left in her arsenal. But this was a chance for such glory! To destroy the children and the heretic in the same blow... she couldn't just pass it up, but how...?

Her eyes widened, blazing with realization. There was a way.

"Do you think you can bring me down so easily? The brightest star of the Occult Colleges, the Witch-Primus of the Drule Empire? Arrogance!" Judging Zeliax to be the safer option she whirled and charged past him, startling him enough that he didn't even try to stop her. "The Lords of the Dead will have you!"

Dropping to her knees, she closed her eyes and focused. Sarga be with me, hear my plea! Open the gates! Let the maw of Chaos consume my foes! Projecting all her power outwards she released a spell even she had never used before, a spell that none had mastered since the mighty Haggar herself. But the sky shook around her, and as she opened her eyes a gaping vortex opened up in the earth. Too quickly for any of them to react, tendrils of shadow erupted from it, snaring Zeliax and the Force in an inescapable web.

Perfect.

"Goodbye, heretic," she mocked as the vortex drew them in, watching Zeliax failing to break his bonds. "I hope you suffer dearly."

She was pretty sure he snarled a response, but it was lost in a wave of pain that erupted in her chest at the same moment. What?! Stumbling back she saw the source, three small glowing blades that had pierced just to the side of her heart. Those glowing talons the Black Lion pilot bore... damn them all anyway!

Lords of Order, grant me strength for one more plea...

It took everything she had left, but as the chaos portal claimed its prey, Sharilar wrenched herself free of the material plane and faded out of existence, reappearing an instant later in the medical bay of the Hellbringer. No sense teleporting anywhere but where she needed to be, after all. Collapsing to the floor in front of several shocked healers, she let unconsciousness claim her, but not before forcing out a whisper to the doctor who knelt at her side.

"Tell the Emperor... unleash the fleet... the children and the heretic are gone..."

Through the pain and the darkness a smile settled on her lips. Her mission was complete.


The whole world seemed to have turned inside-out. Daniel flailed in a tunnel of pulsing darkness, watching chunks of grass and rock tumble along beside him, until suddenly... it all just stopped. There was no jolt or anything to signal it; he was just suddenly sitting motionless on the ground, a surreal landscape twisting around him.

What the hell?

Hell wasn't so far off, maybe... he stood on shaky legs, looking around. The sky was a swirling mix of red and green, the hard ground cast in muddy shades of brown from the clashing light. There was no wind, but dark shapes were waving in the distance, spindly tendrils rising up like trees. There was still some dirt and grass scattered at his feet, presumably dragged in with him, but beyond that...

The others?

"Nnngh..." As if in response to his question he heard Vince's moan from behind him, and turned just in time to see Bruno simply appear by his side. "...Whoa, man... I don't remember signing on for a vacation to Creepyville."

"Me either." That was Larmina's voice. "What just happened?"

"I believe we came out on the wrong side of a battle with the Empire's leading witch." Imam was looking around the place with what looked like pure terror.

Daniel wasn't so sure he would call this the wrong side. They were still breathing, after all. "Okay, so she hit us with something. But I got her," he grinned, waving his talons. "I got that witch real good. We might be lost, but she'll be dead, so I think we actually got the better of the deal."

"That might be a bit premature."

The voice came from behind them, and the five pilots whirled, coming face to face with a slim form in black armor. He wore a hooded cloak, a mask covering the top half of his face while the bottom was simply shrouded in shadow... he was the one who'd been fighting the witch when they arrived.

"Who are you?" Vince was the first to voice the question, though every one of the Force had a good idea—or at least, Daniel was pretty sure he couldn't be the only one putting it together.

He studied them for a few moments, then nodded. "I am called Zeliax."

At those words, the five of them dropped back defensively, weapons bared. This was the collaborator Kaela had told them about, the traitor who'd given Voltron's secrets to the Drules... why he'd been fighting the witch was anyone's guess. It didn't matter. Here was one more enemy they could take out, maybe the one who deserved it most of all.

The weapons aimed at him didn't seem to concern him in the least. "Oh, please. Put those away. Actually, no, keep them out. You'll need them here, if we intend to escape."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, but who said 'we' are going to do anything? Except maybe that we are going to leave your body here to rot. If things can even rot in this hellhole."

"Hmm. I have no doubt you mean every word of that, black cub..." The cloaked figure crossed his arms. "Let's grant that you can kill me, it would be terribly inconvenient if I have to prove otherwise. How do you expect to leave, exactly? You don't know how to get out. You don't even know where you are."

Daniel started to snarl something extremely impolite. Actually he'd been starting to ever since being called 'black cub', but Bruno had slapped a huge paw over his mouth—and most of his face, for that matter. Now Vince elbowed him too.

"He's got a point, Daniel."

"I don't care what his point is. We don't need him!"

A very low voice broke in; Imam sounded even more stilted than usual. "Begging your pardon, sir. But we do need him. We are in the Chaos Realm."

"How would y... interesting." Zeliax cocked his head. "You're a Ghostwalker, then... and yet you fly a lion? Shouldn't that bother you?"

Imam's golden eyes glowed briefly. "I humbly submit, fiend, that we require only cooperation. I will tell you nothing more."

"You've told me plenty." Zeliax stepped back. "In any case, the yellow cub is correct. This is the Chaos Realm, and if any of you want to see daylight again, you're just going to have to tolerate me. Order is the enemy of chaos. The only way we can leave here is the same way we came in—all six of us, together." A low laugh. "Unless, of course, you'd like to nobly remain here for eternity in order to end my threat."

The five pilots exchanged uneasy glances. Maybe someone should have snapped that they would gladly make the sacrifice, Daniel mused... but it wasn't going to be him. And nobody else was exactly jumping at the opportunity.

"Wouldn't be worth it," Bruno muttered finally. "He's not our real problem. Kargil's still got Arus in his sights either way. If we stay here Arus has no Voltron. We deal."

"Indeed." Imam paused. "And I hesitate to ask this, yet I trust you have already thought of the possibility. Fiend, should you not be the one remaining here as a sacrifice to end our interference?"

Zeliax gave a short, derisive laugh. "Kargil's minion threw me in here just as unwillingly as the lot of you. I'm not feeling the need to do him any favors."

"...Can't fault that logic," Vince admitted.

"Okay." Daniel turned to address Imam; he still wasn't going to speak to the other jerk if he could possibly help it. "What is the Chaos Realm, exactly?"

"It is a domain sacred to Sarga, Goddess of Chaos. She is one of the Lords of Order." He noticed the confused looks immediately and shrugged. "As the fiend said, order is the enemy of chaos, but one cannot exist without the other. Banishment to the Chaos Realm was once a common punishment for criminals, but knowledge of it was lost when occult science was purged from the Empire. In the Protectorate it is little but a story used to frighten disobedient children... effectively, I might add." He shuddered and looked out over the twisted landscape.

"And this creep is right about us having to all escape together?"

Nod. "Legend says the Chaos Realm has only been escaped twice, both times by those strong enough not to be separated by its dangers."

"What sort of dangers, exactly?"

"That is difficult to say, sir." The Ghostwalker's eyes dimmed. "My people do not speak of such things."

Hmph. Apparently they were going to have to talk to the other jerk after all... with a bit of a scowl, Daniel turned towards Zeliax. "Well?"

"How should I know?" the cloaked man retorted irritably. "I've been here as many times as you." But he swiftly became more serious, clenching his fists and turning away. "...If the legends are to be believed, we may face the twisted remnants of everyone ever banished to this place. Don't hesitate to kill them, cubs. It will be a mercy." His voice was surprisingly pained.

"Getting used to killing Drules," Larmina muttered.

That was the truth. "Okay. So stick together, expect crazy Drule ghosts, shoot to kill." Nothing seemed to be stirring around them yet, anyway, so that was probably a good sign. "And where's the exit?"

Imam and Zeliax exchanged looks. "...We will know that when we reach it, I believe, sir."

Oh. Well that was just great.


What the hell had gone wrong this time?

One minute, the cadets had been swooping in on the odd energy signature, claiming the only thing there was two people—one a Drule—locked in combat. The next something had happened to the lions, a brief system disruption. Probably something the Drule witch had done, probably something she couldn't have accomplished if it weren't for the damn power drain. The kids had landed, unwilling to let what looked like a great opportunity pass by.

And then they were... gone.

There was no other way to describe it. It wasn't just that they'd vanished from the cliff where they were fighting, though they had done that. It was the complete disappearance of their voltcom signatures, even though there should be no interference in that area. And most of all it was the sense of deep confusion flowing to him from Red Lion.

Lance looked at the monitors and shook his head in frustration. "What did they get themselves into now?" He couldn't save them this time, that much at least was certain. Not without even knowing where they were, and not with the lions out there in the middle of nowhere.

And then suddenly he had much bigger problems. Alarms shrieked from the main console, and the holotank lit up; the Drule fleet was descending on Arus.

"...Well shit."

It didn't look like they were moving in on the lions, at least. That was good. They were moving in on the castle instead. That was bad.

Okay. Time to see how well this Flexplate stuff actually works. Don't let me down, future!

Bringing up a new console, he activated the automated defenses and switched the castle's own systems to manual control. He had no idea how effective the systems were, but they had to be better than nothing. Hopefully. "You Drules came to dance again already? Fine, guess you need lesson number two. Let's do it."

And here you wanted one more war.


Vince trailed slightly behind the rest of the Force and their unsettling ally as they walked through the shifting landscape. His mind was elsewhere.

What had happened out there with the witch?

He had his morningstar out, obviously, ready for whatever might come at them from the Chaos Realm's shadows. It was back to normal now, glowing crimson in his hands. Almost innocent. Could a weapon even be innocent? If it could be the morningstar was, its calm glow seeming to assure him that it was just an ordinary spiked mace and he had certainly seen nothing unusual about it. But he knew what he'd seen, and what he'd felt.

Whatever it had done had been effective, anyway. Every so often, he'd just really like to know what his powers were going to do before they did it.

"This place is freaky." Larmina's voice broke the uncomfortable silence, probably just for the sake of breaking it.

"It's repulsive," Bruno growled. "Life has no place here."

"Be careful what you wish for, green cub. Death is lurking."

Daniel shot Zeliax a disgusted look. "We have names, you know."

"And if I cared, I would've asked them."

Scowl. "What the hell is your deal, dude? Why would you want to work with Drules?" He paused and looked at Imam. "...The bad Drules, I mean."

"Sir, I keep telling you, you need not..." The Ghostwalker trailed off, apparently deciding it wasn't worth the protest. "...His question is valid, fiend. Why would you turn on your own people, in favor of the Empire's cruelty? Do you fear them? With the knowledge we are told you have, we could—"

"Don't insult me," the cloaked man snapped. "My motives are none of your business, and you won't change them."

There we go. Vince had been waiting for something like that, considering... "Here I was just thinking I expected a god of wrath to be a bit angrier."

Zeliax turned to him; he caught a glimpse of the eyes beneath the hood, and staggered back a step at the sheer malice there. Okay then! Definitely angry! Their gazes only met for a split second before the dark form shrugged and turned away again. "That's because I have nothing against the five of you. Don't make me reconsider."

...Now that's just plain weird.

"Oh sure," Larmina scoffed. "You're just helping Kargil try to kill us. Nothing personal."

"Actually I saved your lives not long ago, to the Emperor's great annoyance. But by all means—"

The ground collapsed.

Oh crap!

Beneath most of them the earth vanished in a wave of shadow, dropping them high over what looked like a roiling black ocean. Daniel had been leading the group, and was just ahead of the sinkhole; he whirled and lunged, managing to grab Imam's hand as the rest of them failed to escape the dizzying fall. "Guys!"

"Jump!" Zeliax yelled, his tone suddenly urgent.

Daniel didn't look the least bit inclined to do that, but Imam didn't hesitate. He kicked at the broken ground and yanked his well-intentioned rescuer through the hole an instant before it closed.

Vince hit the ground with a yelp, the ocean turning out to be an expanse of obsidian sand. "Owwwwwww..."

"This place sucks," Larmina muttered, sitting up and rubbing her head.

Imam and Daniel hit last, the Ghostwalker helping him up a bit sheepishly. "My apologies, sir, but there was no time to make a proper argument on the subject. You did need to jump." He looked around at the others. "No matter what happens or how frightening it seems, staying together must be our first priority. All else we can recover from. But being lost in the Chaos Realm..." A violent shudder ran through him.

"...Okay." Daniel nodded. "I'll take your word for it."

"Staying together is one thing." Bruno suddenly sounded very nervous himself. "I think we're about to have bigger problems."

Turning, the group saw something rising up out of the sand. Something huge and twisted, a golem built of what looked like decaying bodies, two bleached skulls in place of its eyes glaring hatefully at them.

"...Um..." Vince turned to look at Zeliax. He seemed impassive as he gazed at the horrible creature, though he'd drawn a knife and was holding it at the ready. "About that thing where we might be facing remnants of other prisoners here."

"Yes?"

"Did the legends say we'd be facing all of them stuck together?"

"...No, red cub." He dropped into a guard stance. "We're learning something new today."

"Great. I'd have rather had another engineering class."

The golem lumbered for them with a howl.