Part Six: A Worthy Cause

Chapter 36: City of the Incursion

"We've made it," Red announced.

Esme could have wept with joy. Their long, almost nonstop journey through the Nether had brought them to a compound built into the caves, where a wall of iron blocks stood to block further passage without authorization. At the top of the wall patrolled a guard in light havenite armor, who shouted to someone behind it when he saw them coming. A hole appeared in the iron blocks apart by people wielding pickaxes; there was no gate or mechanism to open the entryway. Red barely slowed his pace and strolled in first, while his troopers, the Ender Forge, and lastly Lime Squad filed in behind him.

The room past the wall was a hub of tunnels to the rest of the compound, mostly built with smelted Nether bricks and quartz mined from the caves. A few torches set up along the walls did little to brighten the chamber. There was also a sign posted, reading 'ENTRY – SOUTH' and giving directions to elsewhere in the facility.

"This must be Incursia's Nether fortification. If it weren't kept under close watch, someone could enter the city right under our noses," she thought.

The gap was sealed behind them once they were all inside. More guards were present and at attention, along with a lanky young man in refined havenite who eagerly approached Red.

"Welcome back, Commandant! It's an honor to see you. You'll be pleased to learn the Expansion Division hasn't let any potential threats get anywhere near the city since you left-"

"Enough, Crux," he grumbled. "What time is it?"

The dismissive reply made the greeter clear his throat and take a deep breath. Speaking to the Commandant must have been something he'd practiced for.

"Um… I'm not Marshal Crux, sir. She's in the city, helping Overseer Pyxis with Project Titan. As for the time, the sun set about an hour ago."

Esme hadn't heard of such a project before. Whether Red had was unclear, and he seemed to barely register anything the young trooper said regardless.

"If I may ask, sir, are these Inlanders the Ender Forge we've heard about?"

This, at least, got some level of engagement from Red. He gestured to the black-garbed men and women accompanying them, who were casting curious glances at the equipment the wary Usurpation guards held. "They are. They'll be staying in the outskirts of Incursia while negotiations are underway."

"I don't recall you telling us that on the way here," said Benedict, his voice low but with a noticeable edge to it.

Esme felt the urge to shrink back when Red turned to stare him down. "Is that a problem?"

Benedict didn't appear spooked, though. He returned the look with a pleasant smile behind his mask. "Not at all. One of my associates is delivering a message to the Mouth of the Banished King as we speak. He'll be along within the next two or so weeks, and I'm certain he'll be interested in meeting you personally. Until then… well, your accommodations ought to suffice for us."

Red just grunted in reply, then looked back at the star-struck trooper. "Have someone escort the Ender Forge to Zone 7-D. Green and I will speak to them again in the morning." He didn't even wait for confirmation and walked past, disappearing down an adjoining hall with the Red Squad soldiers.

The guards present relaxed their posture, and a few of them broke away to guide the Ender Forge. Esme, Ray, and Tara were left mostly alone in the entry chamber, and all of them were about ready to collapse.

"He didn't dismiss us," Ray said in a raspy, dry voice. "What should we do?"

"We should report to Overseer Fornax, I suppose," Esme replied. "I want to go to sleep for a few years, but she should at least know we're back."

"Excuse me!" The young trooper who'd greeted Red had approached them, still looking almost giddy after the encounter. "You must be Sir Ray and Dame Esme, then? If you're looking for Overseer Fornax, she should still be in the GCRB compound. Head down the right corridor and take the third left, you'll find the portal to get you there."

"Thank you," Ray told him. "You are…?"

He stood at attention again, but looked a little surprised. "Trooper 6, of Expansion Defense Squad 4. My designation is ED4-6."

Esme spotted the ghost of a frown on Ray's weary face, but he just nodded.

"If I may ask… what was it like, getting to work with the Commandant Red?"

A few of the other remaining guards were listening as well. Esme looked each of them over, and it dawned on her just how young the group was. She was 19, and even she seemed older than most of them. The youngest couldn't have been more than 16.

"But Overseer Fornax found me when I was around that age… why is it bothering me now?"

Tara snorted. "I don't think he even realized we're still here by the end. He didn't give us the intel we needed to do our best work."

The troopers didn't seem disillusioned by her remark. In fact, a few were even leveling smug grins her way.

"Tara, was it? Formerly of Crimson Squad," said ED4-6. "I just remembered… I have orders to detain you."

A pit formed in Esme's stomach. Ray visibly tensed up as well, but Tara didn't seem to react as the guards encircled them.

"Hold on a moment! What's the meaning of this?" Ray asked. "She's part of Lime Squad now; who ordered that without my knowledge?"

"I did."

Her thunderous footsteps were heard a moment before she rounded the corner. Esme nearly mistook her for one of the Inlanders' golems; her armor was bigger and bulkier than any suit she'd ever seen. It wasn't standard-issue havenite, either, being much darker red in color- nearly black, and a familiar shade at that. It reminded her of the strange dark armor Countess Celia had been wearing during the Bonemeal Core heist, but around twice as thick. The woman's head was entirely obscured by a black helmet with a red visor, and she wore the traditional rags of the Far Lands around her neck like a scarf. As far as Esme could tell, there were no weak points on her armor whatsoever.

"Marshal Crux," said ED4-6. "Welcome back. We didn't think you'd be returning so soon, is everything okay with Overseer Pyxis?"

"I heard Commandant Red was back, so I came down here to greet him. Seems I'm too late… but it's not all bad." Crux's unpleasant smile could be heard in her voice. "Orion's golden girl returns to us at last…"

Esme gulped. Tara had adopted her typical stoic expression, but in her pale eyes there was an unmistakable anger as she listened to the Marshal.

"During our operation with Commandant Red, she was assigned to Lime Squad with me," Ray began. "With all due respect, as an Industrial-"

"Your operation is over, Sir Ray. The Expansion Division will be taking her back now," Crux practically hissed. "You two can count yourselves lucky that Fornax is your superior, not me. But Tara isn't so fortunate, and for the death of Orion, there will be consequences."

Tara stepped forward, looking at the floor. "I understand. I will comply, Marshal."

"I thought you might. ED4-8, ED4-9, confiscate her belongings and take her to the detention wing."

While the two specified troopers set about taking away Tara's items, Crux directed her attention back to Esme and Ray.

"I'm still not sure how you two managed to secure the Bonemeal Cores, but you somehow pulled it off. Even if you got Lime Squad killed in doing so... still, I guess I can't expect too much from Industrial scouts."

Esme saw Ray's hand tremble, like he was struggling not to clench a fist.

"By the way, where is Orion's Genesis Core? Water, I believe?"

She nervously stepped forward. "I-I have it, Marshal… I was allowed to use it during-" Esme had barely gotten the words out before Crux retrieved a Core extractor from her inventory and shoved it her way. A flash of light later, she held the dark Water Core.

"I'll be taking this back as well. It belongs with the Expansion Division… well, that's all I have for you. Go run back to Fornax now, I'm sure she'll give you each a pat on the head and tell you 'well done.'"

They didn't need to be told twice. As Tara was led away down an adjoining corridor, Ray spared her a quick glance before hurrying out of the chamber following ED4-6's instructions, into a hallway going the opposite direction. Esme was right behind him, with a sudden hollowness in her chest and the sting of tears in her eyes.

The two didn't go very far, though, before Ray's step faltered. A moment later, he keeled over right in front of her.

Most of the wastes were hidden under dark clouds, blanketing the desolate landscape in a cold, uncaring night. It was only in a few remote places that a gap in the black roof was said to open, letting even a trace of light reach the ground. These areas were called "havens," and they were individual biomes of safety in a world that otherwise seemed to desire nothing more than the extinction of mankind.

Ironically, they were also where people were most likely to fight to the death over limited space and resources. As such, a haven that had no signs of habitation at all, lush with grass and shrubbery under a tantalizing stream of sunlight that practically begged for someone to enter for a blissful reprieve from their miserable life outside, couldn't have been anything OTHER than a trap.

But he didn't care. It had been days since he'd last eaten, and he was desperate.

He'd been alone for almost his whole life. His birth family had long since fallen, as had the haven they'd settled in. By some sick miracle he was the sole survivor as a child, stumbling into the wilderness with no direction or purpose other than to keep living, just to spite the hateful world he'd been born into. How long ago that had been, he wasn't sure; the passage of time was almost impossible to keep track of in the wastes. But he'd grown up quite a bit since then, and in the interim he'd wandered the wastes in search of another meal, another hiding spot from the mobs, another ramshackle community which might be willing to take in a lone, starving scavenger.

The wind howled as he approached the haven, and he tugged his ragged cloak tight around himself. He tried to ignore the ferocious pangs of his empty stomach, telling himself it was just a little further before he could find something edible. He might've even settled for eating some of that vibrant grass, if there were no other options.

He practically dove into the haven, across the boundary where the dusty blocks ended and the grassy ones began. And for a few minutes he just lay there, face-down with the light shining on him, the wind mysteriously absent from the small biome like it simply couldn't exist in its borders. The haven couldn't have been more than two chunks wide and long, but it was the most beautiful, welcoming place he'd seen in a very long time.

Eventually he got back up to find some food. There were no animals living there, but some of the bushes sported bright red berries, and there was a tiny pond in the center. He plucked a few handfuls of the fruits and sat by the water's edge, blankly staring at his own reflection while he ate. Someone like him, who was used to starving for days at a time, knew better than to scarf everything down at once. It was better to savor what he had.

"I should gather what I can, in case I need to get out of here quickly…"

Delightful as his discovery was, he was just one person armed with only a few sharp sticks. If another group decided to stake a claim on the haven, and wasn't interested in sharing space, he'd be forced out- or worse. It had to have been well over a week since the last time he'd encountered someone in that instance an older man who'd threatened to kill him if he drew near. But havens attracted attention from long distances. He had to be careful.

Yet, he couldn't stop himself from appreciating the little paradise he'd found, for however brief a time it might have been. He looked into the sky, squinting at the sunny gap in the clouds and wondering what could be beyond them. If he gathered enough blocks, could he build that high? Would there be anything waiting for him, or would he see nothing but the black clouds in all directions? Was it just a cruel taunt from the wastes, offering a glimpse at freedom which in reality was nothing more than a reminder of how trapped the wanderers were?

He frowned. There he was, the most comfortable he'd been in months, and he'd found a way to depress himself again.

"Kkhhhrraaaaaa…"

He was on his feet in a second, drawing one of his sharp sticks from his inventory. Wanderers knew to fear that sound, and it suddenly clicked why the haven was empty. Just past the grassy border, something was pulling itself up from the dust with a long, rattling growl. Its sickly purple body wasn't even free of the ground, yet it had to be at least twice as long as he was tall, and its jaws looked like they could open wide enough to swallow him whole. Two pairs of soulless white eyes stared at him from the darkness of the outside. It leaned forward, only to recoil with an angered shriek when the sunlight hit its long, narrow face.

This abomination was called a lurker, and in a world full of horrific beasts, it was especially notorious. Lurkers targeted just about anything in the wastes they could fit into their mouths, which- fittingly enough- was just about anything in the wastes. They burrowed underground, occasionally bursting to the surface to snatch up some unsuspecting wanderer or even another mob before dragging their prey beneath the dust. How he'd gotten into the haven through its territory without being noticed, he wasn't sure, nor did he understand why dry grass appeared to be growing through its hide in a few spots, coiling around it as if forming rags like the very ones he wore.

Whatever the case, he'd been noticed now. Not daring to take his eyes off the beast for more than a second at a time, he glanced around at the haven's resources and considered his situation. The berries wouldn't last forever. The water would run out eventually. The sunlight might one day disappear, taking with it the one thing keeping him safe. When any of those outcomes happened, he'd have no choice but to leave, and the lurker would be waiting for him. His luck had come to an abrupt end.

"Go away," he told it, fighting back tears. "I don't want to die… please…"

Its predatory gaze didn't leave him. He could've sworn the thing was smiling as he began to cry.

"Why?! Why does it have to be like this?! Why can't we just… just LIVE? What'd any of us do wrong?"

It wasn't fair. This monster, this haven, the world, his life. None of it was fair.

The lurker only looked away from him to let out an awful retching noise, then expel a mass of slimy bones and items, clearly belonging to its last victim, onto the ground. It would be able to last much longer between meals than he could, and once it had eaten him it was only a matter of time before another desperate, starving wanderer happened across the haven, where it would strike again.

What was the point in denying fate?

He dragged his feet along the grass, feeling the berries slip from one hand while the other still limply clutched a stick. Closer and closer he came to the edge, to where the sun stopped shining and the wastes he'd always known began again. The lurker watched with interest; such willing prey must have been a first for it. And as he reached the last few steps before he would leave the haven altogether, it opened its wide mouth in anticipation, revealing it had no teeth to tear or chew with. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The skull it had spat up sat atop of the bone pile, its hollow eyes staring his way while he trudged off to his demise. That had once been a wanderer just like him, and they'd met their end at the gaping maw of this grass-covered lurker. Now, posthumously, they were watching him submit to the same fate. He noticed something else about it: there was a faint glow coming from under the bones, casting a pulsing yellow light through their cracks. It even shone through the skull and gave its empty sockets a bit of color, a bit of personality.

It was barely worth noting. It was a shallow and miniscule suggestion of life, or hope. But to him, it was enough.

When he stepped out of the sunlight, the lurker's head lunged down with its jaws apart to snatch him up. Before it could, he drove the sharp end of his stick straight into the roof of its mouth. The monster screamed and thrashed, suddenly losing interest in eating him. But he wasn't about to let it sink underground again to ambush someone else. He drew another stick from his inventory and thrust it as hard as he could into the lurker's soft body. That didn't yield quite the same success, but he wasn't discouraged. As it tried to recoil from him, he ran behind it and threw himself onto its back, climbing up its long body using the grass coils until he'd reached its head. He didn't have any more weapons, but being so close to the haven and seeing its behavior gave him an idea. He leaned on the back of its head with all of his weight, forcing the lurker's face forward into the sunlight. It hit the ground with a "thud" and began to shriek even louder, its skin sizzling and burning up as it struggled to throw him off. But he didn't let go, not until the lurker had stopped moving entirely and only a dry skull was left of its head, sitting on the grass with a stick speared through the bone.

He didn't need to die. He could fight, and he could kill. He could be strong. Those were enough, as far as the wastes were concerned.

"Hey!"

The voice made him jump, nearly toppling off the lurker's body altogether. He broke off half of the stick from its skull to have some sort of weapon and turned to see who'd shouted.

A group of people had come to a stop nearby, about a dozen in number. They all wore rags like him, but he wasn't sure he'd call them mere wanderers or scavengers. These strangers were armed with metal tools and wore garments made of a strange red material he'd only seen a few times in his life. Most of their faces were covered by tattered cloth scarves. Their leader, the one who'd yelled out, was a woman a few years older than him in a crude-looking metal mask.

"Did I see you kill that lurker by yourself?"

It had been some time since he encountered anyone who didn't react with hostility. He just nodded without a word, clutching the broken stick in his trembling hands.

The woman glanced at the pile of bones. "We've been hunting this lurker for a while now. It took something important to me. Five, go get the Core. It should still be with the remains."

One of her band approached, keeping a wary eye on the dead beast.

"Who are you all?" the wanderer asked, finally able to speak again.

She didn't answer him right away, and looked at his handiwork. "You're just a kid, but you managed to kill a lurker with almost no items. There must be more to you than meets the eye."

"Who are you?" he repeated. "Do you want the haven? I… I just got here, and-" he was cut off by his stomach growling. He had barely eaten any berries.

That got her attention. She lifted her mask to get a better look at him, and a smile crossed her gaunt, thin face. "I'm called Fornax. My friends and I are on a mission to find lost little lambs out here in the wastes and bring them to safety… are YOU lost, kid? All alone in the world?"

"I… I am. I haven't traveled with anyone since I was… I don't know how long it's been."

"You don't look older than fifteen or so to me. You must've done well for yourself, and I appreciate that kind of ingenuity. The Army could use someone like you."

Her subordinate dug through the bones and pulled out a glowing yellow orb. An unusual sight to be sure, but he wasn't interested in that all of a sudden. "What 'Army?'"

Fornax put her mask back on, gesturing to her party. "We're just a small piece of something much bigger. There's a movement, an order of us wastelanders coming together to make something more of ourselves."

"How many of you are there?"

She chuckled. "A few hundreds of us right now. But there'll be more. It's time the wanderers rose up, don't you think?"

That many people cooperating was unheard of. He couldn't fathom something of that scale, let alone lasting success given how limited the shared resources must have been. His stomach growled again as if in agreement; he didn't need to share his findings with anyone as a loner, and even then he'd only barely survived to that point.

Fornax heard his hunger again. "You could be a part of it too, little lamb. You won't need to starve anymore. What's your name?"

"I don't think I have one… I've been by myself for so long…"

"Poor thing. Don't worry, if you stick with me I'll help you get by. There's just one thing I want to ask you…"

Her mouth was hidden, but the mask left her dark eyes exposed. In them, he could see something no wanderer he'd ever met had: ambition.

"…how badly do you want to survive? What would you do to earn another day?"

EVERYTHING ached.

Ray sat up and rubbed his throbbing forehead, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim room. He was in a bed, stripped of his armor and only wearing the simple tunic and pants he'd been given before entering the Inlands. His fear of having been captured by enemies was dispelled quickly, as his inventory was still full and he could feel the Grass Core's energy inside him. His armor was nowhere to be seen, but his cloak sat on a chest beside the bed. He put it on without hesitation, feeling naked without it. To his surprise, someone had cleaned it up a little. There was no hope of removing a lifetime's worth of dust and dirt, but at least it smelled better. A note had been left underneath it.

'Food and water for you. When you're feeling better, report to Staging for debrief. Just follow the signs, I know you've never been here. –Overseer Fornax'

He was finally safe, after weeks of travel and fighting. Ray owed everything to Fornax ever since she'd found him almost seven years prior, and it would be nice to see her again. He got out of bed and retrieved some assorted meats from the chest, along with a few water bottles- one of which he downed almost immediately. His legs were sorer than ever, but he ignored the ache. There was no reason to keep Fornax waiting. Maybe Esme was with her, too. He could eat while he walked.

"Follow the signs…"

Ray exited the small quarters through a simple wooden door and found himself in a brightly lit birch hallway. Before he could assess his surroundings and find a sign, however, someone bumped into him as he was stepping out.

"AH! I-I-I'm so s-sorry!"

He expected to see some young Usurper when he turned, but to his surprise it was an Inlander in dirty clothes with a sizeable bruise beneath one eye, recently obtained by the looks of it. He couldn't be older than Ray was when he first met Fornax. The boy shrank back against the wall, eyeing him in utter terror and keeping both hands crossed over his chest in defense.

"I-I promise, I was just going to deliver the gold to Storage A2! I'm going, I swear!"

He couldn't find it in him to say anything to the slave. After cowering for another moment, as if unsure whether he'd be punished, the boy inched around him in the hall and hurried away.

Ray wanted to see Fornax. He didn't want to linger. But for almost a full minute he stood there in silence, unable to shake the sudden weight on his chest.