…

Regalia

…

The Underlanders hadn't won because they'd defeated the Americans. No… the Americans had simply run out of bullets, and couldn't climb Regalia's walls without equipment.

Gregor wandered the blood-soaked battleground, his mind numb and hands trembling with guilt. Him and his damned rager abilities. If only he'd been able to keep his cool, then Clara wouldn't have fallen to her death, and this slaughter could have been avoided.

With the quick reaction of the guards on the wall, the gates of Regalia had been closed after the first shots rang out, confining the massacre to the new expansion under construction outside the walls. There, over the foundations of what was meant to be the American embassy, lay the body of a worker mouse. Its fur was light and not thick, signifying that it was no older than a year. Not that the Americans could have known, or would have cared. Three bullet holes leaked from the mouse's back. Gregor knelt and gently closed its eyes. He didn't even know its name.

That's where Ripred found him. "You need to move, boy," he said roughly, though Gregor knew him well enough to sense the undercurrent of sympathy.

Gregor shook his head. "What am I supposed to do? This is my fault, and I'm powerless to stop them." Tears welled in his eyes. "I should never have returned. All I know how to do is destroy."

The grizzled rat crouched next to him, dark eyes worn and tired. "That is the curse of the rager. Luckily, you are more than just that. Get your head straight. People need you."

Gregor shook his head. "No. The last thing they need is me." He thought of the stone soldier in the museum again for the first time in many years. The soldier had died a hero, and those he loved had stayed safe. Sandwich was right: he should've died fighting the Bane. A man like Gregor wasn't designed to bring about peace. He'd felt so angry that the Underland was being forced to change, that he hadn't even stopped to consider what would be best for peace. No, he'd wanted to win, like a warrior did.

Deep within Ripred's eyes, Gregor noticed a small fire. "We've always known what needs to be done, boy. You and I, like old times. What do you say?"

Gregor thought about it. The Americans wouldn't expect an attack on their basecamp so quickly, especially after such a massacre. The one hope the Regalians had was to quickly destroy the American basecamp before they had a chance to entrench further, and then block off the New York entrance for good. There was no peace, not anymore, if there ever had been a chance at it. Gregor had killed it. If he couldn't play peacemaker, he would embrace who he was. A warrior. His unchecked rage finally focused, narrowed, and sharpened his mind. He was in control now. He had a purpose.

Distantly, he thought of his family, and what they would think of him in the years to come. It would be better if they never learned what had happened to him, what he had chosen to do… all the more reason to win.

"Remove their light, and they're blind," Gregor said coldly. "They don't know the darkness like we do. We were born in it."

…

Outskirts of New York City

…

James was beginning to lose track of time, having been trapped in the basement for as long as he had been, but he'd been alone for hours when the door opened once more. For the first time, an agent had come alone. It was Orange.

Her long black hair hung loosely, and her eyes were puffy from crying. James was instantly on his feet. "What happened?" James said strongly. "Is my son okay?"

She nodded wordlessly, and sat down by the computer. "He's okay… but James… I need to show you something."

James crossed his arms and braced himself for what could have moved an FBI agent so strongly. But nothing could have prepared him for a video recording of the mass slaughter of Regalia's citizens. His eyes fixated on his son, cowering behind a pillar on the wall as bullets rained all around him. And when they couldn't reach him, they turned on the workers building outside the walls. Innocent mice, cockroaches, humans, all running for their lives.

James's blood went white hot, and without thinking, he grabbed Orange's shoulders and shook them. "HOW CAN YOU JUSTIFY THIS?!" His body, after a year of torture in the Underland, was weak, and the words ripped through him. He sank to his knees, hands tingling, heart struggling to beat somewhere in his throat. "This… this…"

"It's evil," Orange said. "It's evil." Her voice shook. "I joined the FBI because I wanted to protect the people of this country. But these people… these are civilians who mean us no harm." Orange's eyes hardened, and she leaned in close to him. "Agent Black and I have been doing some digging. This whole thing reeks of an inside job. I don't think the higher-ups ever intended on letting anyone in the Underland live. They want to wipe it off the map and sweep it under the rug, pretend it never existed. You see, that's the policy for many other matters the FBI handles. The FBI doesn't trust people to handle the truth, or uncertainty. Maybe they're right. But this time, it's gone too far." She took a deep breath. "We're breaking you out."

Those were possibly the last words James expected to hear. The words energized him, pushed him back upright. His withering body would not fail him now, not when he could still protect his son. "When?"

"Now," Agent Black said, stepping down into the room. His petite frame pulsed with anger. "The American public won't stand for a genocide like this. That's why they're conducting this operation in secret, and refuse to let any of the public know about the Underland. Our only course of action is to tell the world what is happening, and hope that enough people listen to force the government to cease hostilities."

Orange stood. "Agent Black has bought us twenty minutes. After that, Barwell and the others will be onto us. We need to make it to the New York Times building before that. I've already leveraged my contacts there. Are you ready to give an interview?"

James was already moving towards the stairs.

…

Tunnels Outside Regalia

…

Kyle knelt in front of Helena, eyes hidden behind his aviators. "I need you to tell me about the ants and the moles," he said. "I can make this all go away. You can go home. I just need to know what you saw. It's vital for the security of the American people."

Helena shook her head furiously. "The cave… the cave… the cave…" Blood everywhere, innocent diggers' glassy lifeless eyes. This was all a nightmare. A living nightmare. American agents didn't act like this. Animals like this didn't exist. The blood, the scratching… didn't exist.

Kyle shook his head in derision. "Those subhuman scum really thought that returning our own to us in a state like this would build an alliance." He stood. "Clara's death has cleared the way for us to raze this place without pretense. We will avenge you, Helena."

And then all the lights went out.

In the darkness, Kyle swore. "What did the fools do to the generator this time? I swear—" he was cut off by a piercing scream. Without another word, Kyle unholstered his gun and darted out of the tent and into the darkness.

What was one scream became two, and what was two became ten, fifty, a roaring battlefield of pitch black. The cutters had come to put her back in the cave, hadn't they? She knew it, she knew it. She rolled up into a ball on the ground, rocking herself like a baby. The distant mountains of Montana, Paradise Valley. Yes, she still remembered them. She was there, she was there.

A spray of bullets, scattering off the rocks. A chorus of shouts of desperation, running feet, a single slash of a sword. A snarl, ripping through someone just outside the tent. She began to laugh. Where had all the light gone? She was floating in a pool of darkness surrounded by monsters. Was this the new cave, her new punishment?

A tiny part of her that was still Helena rebelled. If this was her fate, then she wanted to at least see it. All those days alone in that cave, if she had just been able to see, she could have kept a grip on herself. She knew she wasn't okay. She didn't know if she ever would be again. But she wouldn't cower any longer, not when it didn't bring an end to her torture.

She blinked, and she realized that the sounds came from locations. The sword, quite a distance behind her to her left. The gnawing was much closer. The screaming was all around her, so many different calls were quite hard to distinguish but wait, she could tell the difference… and that's when it happened.

A hazy outline of the tent formed in her mind… of the whole basecamp. Humans running around aimlessly, spraying bullets without targets into the dark. Not enough flashlights, and they were disappearing one by one. A human and a… massive rat?.. moving faster than should be possible, ripping through the gunmen one by one. Their movements were fluid, but Helena sensed no nightgear on the human. Another echolocator. Someone like her. In Helena's brief time in the Underland, she'd been captured and interrogated by three different groups, including once by her own people. This time, it was her choice.

"My choice, my choice," Helena muttered as she forced herself to her feet. Her arms were still trapped behind her back, her wrists locked by handcuffs, and she walked awkwardly. She nudged open the tent flap with her face, entering the darkness that was now crystal clear. Kyle's broken body was on the ground right outside, his aviators shattered, pale eyes sightless. She found herself smiling as she staggered towards the echolocator. "My choice."

The echolocator was a blur of motion, cutting through necks and legs and torsos like it was nothing, face stone cold but tense. She could tell because the lines she saw in her head around his face were tight and thick, without motion. She walked up to him slowly, deliberately, as he turned to face her, many bodies strewn at his feet.

He made to lift his sword, then hesitated. "Who are you?" he asked.

She coughed slightly, her smile widening. "I was the one who was once in a cave," she said. "My name is Helena, and I want to help you."

…

Author's Notes

Hello, I have returned from the abyss as a college graduate with a renewed passion to finally finish this project. The Underland Chronicles was a huge part of my childhood and I'm looking forward to giving my fanfiction the ending it deserves. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and supported this story.

-Gyltig