…

Outside Regalia

…

Captain Johnston knew a losing battle when he saw one. He'd spent eight years in Afghanistan across several tours, and he'd lost many friends along the way. No matter what he and his men had done, no matter how many battles they had won, there was always more of them. It didn't matter that the Americans had had better weapons, better technology, and more funding. All that had mattered in the end was that the Taliban had had the home turf.

The massive ants continued to swarm their position, not seeming to care how many of them died in the process. Inch by inch, the mountain of ant corpses pushed the Americans farther back up the tunnel. He'd had one of his soldiers send a small drone up and the machine had counted millions. No matter how many more rounds he ordered for, no matter how many soldiers came down the shaft, it would never be enough.

Worse yet, he and his men were trapped. While it was quite easy to descend into the Underland, it was much harder to get back up. None of his men, including himself, had ever been to the Underland before. He'd imagined a dark place filled with horrible gargantuan creatures from a children's nightmare, but he never imagined that the dark would be this oppressive. All-consuming. Even with the night-vision goggles, he still felt like he was trapped by it. These ants, however… they thrived in it. They were the darkness, he thought, as he mowed down ten ants scurrying towards him. Twenty more took their places. Unconsciously, he felt himself taking another step backwards, and he cursed.

If he was an Underlander, he thought, maybe he'd know what to do. But he was a child here, fighting things that were far beyond his understanding, or that of his men. They needed to change their approach, but how? He took another step backwards. "Call up to base again," he barked at the man behind him. Comms did not work unless one was standing directly in the shaft to the surface. "I need flamethrowers. Missile launchers. Something that will start a fire."

The man instantly took off. Captain Johnston grunted in satisfaction, spitting out a wad of saliva, and turned his attention back to blasting the enemy.

…

On the other side of the defensive arc were Agents Orange and Black—Mariana and August.

Mariana thought back to the day she had joined the army. She'd dropped out of high school due to drug problems and had enlisted to set herself straight not long after. She'd been noted for her special talent of devising clever ways to infiltrate terrorist compounds and, after her service was up, had been referred over to a special branch of the FBI that handled more covert operations.

Her whole life, she'd never trusted herself to know what was good and what was evil. She'd lost that right when she'd gotten her younger brother killed whilst drunk driving. She was good for following orders, and that was it. She knew now that was why Mr. Barwell had recruited her, and that turned her stomach.

She spared a glance at August out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't really see his face behind the night goggles. That was okay, he was usually inscrutable anyway. "I guess this day's as good as any to die," she joked.

"We're not dying today," August said instantly and monotonously.

Mariana laughed and sprayed down more ants. She quickly slid out her empty clip and a new one was shoved into her waiting hand by a soldier behind her. She slammed it into her gun and resumed firing. "You're right. Our penance is not over yet."

"We helped James," August insisted. "We did the right thing."

"You're right," Mariana whispered. "My penance, then."

Together, they both took another step backward. The defensive arc was less than fifty feet from the shaft, now. Fifty feet from the end.

"You're more than this," August said. There was something she couldn't quite discern in his tone. "You do not deserve this."

Mariana laughed. She hadn't even known August's real name until James's interview had exposed them both to the world. Now the man who had fought beside her all these years on horrible missions without saying a word was pretending to know her? "You're right," she said harshly. "I deserve worse."

Only forty feet from the shaft now. "Can't one be reborn?" August asked suddenly.

Mariana paused at the question. She knew she didn't deserve such a thing. But something in her mind latched onto the idea. If she could be reborn, how? Who would she become?

"CLEAR!" Men bellowed from behind her. Mariana was so absorbed in her thoughts, on the endless slaughter of ants, that it took her a moment to even process the words. August yanked her out of the way right as bright, roaring fire ballooned outwards, cooking the ants alive. A new row of soldiers marched forwards, flamethrowers at their hips. The heat was so intense, it began to melt the mountain of corpses away. She was suddenly glad she was wearing a gas mask.

"FORWARD POSITION BEHIND THE FLAMETHROWERS!" Captain Johnston yelled. "If we can punch a hole into the cavern, we can bomb them with our drones from above!"

Mariana lifted her gun and looked at August. She really wished she could see his eyes right now. "After this," she promised.

"After this," he agreed.

…

The Fount

…

As the Fount grew closer and closer, Araxes went into a sharp descent. James clung onto the back of Mareth, still trying to process what the soldier had told him. His son, fighting alone in the heart of enemy territory? Every fiber of his being wanted to rush after his son recklessly. After all, that had been the instinct that had driven him this far. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, he'd never reach him in time. There was nothing he could do to reach his son before he fought the cutter queen.

James took a deep breath. Even if he was forced to let his son go, he could still protect what his son loved. He scanned the city below them. Somewhere beneath them was Luxa. If he could protect her, at least, Gregor would be alright.

Mareth pointed to the docks. "Araxes, the smoke. One of the ships is on fire."

It sure was. James could faintly hear the screams already, even over the rushing wind in his ear and the scuttling of the ants, now only minutes from the city. "Let's do what we can," Araxes dove, hurtling towards the boat.

As they got closer, James saw the source of the problem. The boat had too many people on it, and there appeared to be a brawl going on despite the fire. Someone must have dropped a torch on accident. The flames had already consumed the back half of the ship. Why were the men in the front still fighting? It was lost.

James surveyed the dock. The chaos there was even worse than on the moored ship. Faintly, he could still make a few guards and soldiers still struggling to get the crowd under control, but the situation was long since lost. James shook his head.

Araxes landed on the stern of the ship, flaring his mighty wings. James let loose a short blast of bullets into the air, which froze the brawling crowd.

"WHAT ARE YOU ALL DOING?" Mareth bellowed. "GET OFF THIS SHIP, AND GET THE PEOPLE IN THE WATER TO SHORE! THERE'S WOMEN AND CHILDREN FOR SANDWICH'S SAKE!"

A large man stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "It's the end of the world." His eyes narrowed. "And you have an Overlander." The man moved towards them threateningly, but just then, the earth began to shake.

Mareth spun around, looking towards the city. "I remember this sound," he said, face going pale. "It's—"

Whatever he tried to say was overwhelmed by the sound of massive moles erupting through the dirt on the stretch of open ground between the city and the dock, spewing loose soil over the crowd. "The diggers!" someone cried out. "They're working with the cutters!" Screams broke out and abruptly the crowd dispersed, running in every which direction.

Suddenly, James saw Luxa. Her form was bloodied, and she lay crumpled on the ground where much of the crowd had just been. "Luxa!" James called out, hopping off Araxes and running down the ship ramp towards the fallen Queen.

He slid beside her onto his knees as she struggled to lift herself. How she was even moving, James wasn't sure. Blood caked every inch of her and her armor had caved inwards in several places. Her violet eyes squinted at him. "James…" she dully registered. "How… where…"

Mareth had caught up to him, hobbling on his prosthetic leg, kneeling beside Luxa. "My Queen," he said. "Look up."

James followed Mareth's gaze and gasped. The diggers hadn't made a single hostile move. In fact, they hadn't moved from where they'd broken through altogether. In fact, they seemed to be waiting for something.

The crowd had completely frozen, not sure how to react to this new development. Behind them, the last ship continued to burn, empty and forgotten.

"Help me to my feet, Mareth," Luxa coughed. The soldier obliged his Queen. Once she was standing, she shrugged him off. The people parted around her, clearly looking for a signal as to what to do.

For several long seconds, Luxa half-limped, half-staggered towards the nearest digger. Less than ten feet from its large snout, Luxa drew her sword. James's breath caught in his throat.

And then she extended an arm and dropped it at the feet of the digger.

"I will not fight you," Luxa croaked out.

The digger leaned down close to Luxa's face. "We fight cutters," it said oddly, barely intelligible. As it said those words, creatures of all kinds began appearing from the holes the diggers had dug. Massive spiders, giant rats, even mice. The creatures poured out of the tunnels, and not even pausing to look at the broken crowd of humans, rushed towards the walls.

James saw Luxa's shoulders shake ever so softly. Then, they steadied. When Luxa turned back around to face the assembled crowd, James suddenly knew what his son saw in her. Despite her broken form, despite the dismal situation, light shone in her eyes. She had hope for the Underland, somehow. Hope for a new day.

"The diggers have brought the light of the Underland to our aid!" Luxa proclaimed. "Will they fight the cutters for us? Have we abandoned our own light so thoroughly? Is there not a soldier amongst us?"

The crowd swayed. All around him, he could see the expressions of the people who had just been brawling begin to shift.

"Will we die as cowards?!" Luxa half-rasped, half screamed. "Or will we live AS PROTECTORS OF THE UNDERLAND?!"

Men all around him roared in defiance, and all of a sudden, the mass of people around him was rushing for the walls, too. Even though most were civilians without proper weapons. James clung to Araxes in order to not get carried away by them.

Mareth slowly steered a staggering Luxa back towards James and Araxes. "That was quite the speech, Your Majesty," Mareth smiled. "It's good to have you back."

Luxa's eyes glinted. "I will not let grief control me any longer. I only hope I have not yet doomed my people." Her eyes slide over to James. "How are you here?"

Mareth scratched his head. "We may have all… collectively disobeyed your orders."

Luxa froze for a second, and then laughed, which quickly devolved into a cough. "That's just like Gregor," she said. "I'm glad. Fill me in."

"Overlander soldiers are entering the Underland as we speak to fight the ants," James cut in. "They're not making much headway due to the sheer numbers, but the ants have not been able to subdue them. As such, a substantial part of the force has splintered off to engage them, meaning we'll have to face less of them here."

Luxa nodded, eyes closing momentarily, swaying slightly. "Good. And where is Gregor?"

Mareth and James exchanged a glance. "Gregor and Helena left on Neptune to find and assassinate the cutter queen," Mareth said.

Luxa collapsed.

A man James didn't recognize caught her as she fell. "Hey, Luxa, let me take you back to the medical tent. You're quite injured."

The Queen was already trying to struggle back to her feet. "I'm fine, Howard," she said with a tone of annoyance. "I'm fine."

Mareth frowned with concern. "Your Majesty, you will not be of much use in the fighting in your state. We will need your light for what comes after this."

Luxa shook her head fiercely. "No. Help me to the wall. Howard, come with. Monitor me if you insist, but your services will be needed at the front."

The man sighed, but nodded, giving in to the headstrong queen. Another bat, presumably Howard's bond, landed next to them. Mareth and James climbed back onto Araxes, while Howard helped Luxa onto his bat. Together, the two bats took off and made for the wall.

In the distance, James could see the tide of cutters fast approaching. They were so close that he could make out individual cutters in the horde. "This is it, isn't it," he said aloud. "The battle for the Underland."

Mareth nodded in agreement. "Fly you high, Overlander," he said, and Araxes dived towards the wall, where the creatures of the Underland were assembling to fight for their right to light.

…

Uncharted Lands

…

Helena knew they were getting close now. She remembered the way, but more than that, she could feel it—in her sinew, in her psyche. The echoes of her distant torture and imprisonment— they spoke louder than anything else to her now. Ahead, the tunnels branched into five, and without hesitating, Helena chose the second tunnel.

They had left Neptune behind some time ago, deciding to proceed the last part of the journey on foot since the final tunnels were too narrow for Neptune's wingspan. Also, it was imperative that the pair kept quiet. Ever since they had escaped the cutter invasion force, they'd seen next to none of the creatures, not even as they ventured deep into their lair. But Helena knew some cutters were still around here somewhere. She could feel it, after all.

Since it was pitch dark, she sensed more than saw Gregor's expression. He was gaunt, eyes sunken, obviously focused on the mission but clearly bothered by what had happened earlier.

Helena didn't really understand Gregor. She'd met him first at the height of rage, tearing through the Overlander base camp like a bloody hurricane. In the weeks that had followed, he'd morphed into a moderate, level-headed, rare voice of reason at the Fount. Today was the first time she'd seen his rage come back. Frankly, it was terrifying. All she could conclude was that Luxa brought out the best in him. As much as she wanted to ask him what was going on, or comfort him somehow, the cutter lair was not a place to be having such conversations. Besides, they were almost there.

Helena jerked her thumb at the bend in the tunnel up ahead. A strange glow came from the other side. "What is that light?" she whispered.

Gregor shrugged, but drew his sword. Helena drew her knife. Together, the two edged slowly around the corner. When Helena saw what it was, she gasped.

Around the bend of the tunnel was a large cavern, which she had remembered being empty, a weird empty space before the Queen's chambers. However, this time, the space was occupied.

At the center of the cavern, white and pulsating, was a massive ant larva.

…

Author's Notes

So it escalates. How will the larva change things?