The collapsed survivors of the doomed expedition froze with terror as Earl was brought down by the mighty bear. He was such a heraclean presence on the battlefield that they had believed he couldn't be beaten. After his brother fell, and he brandished his maul, had driven back the bear over and over again. At the end it seemed like he was about to deal a killing blow before his weapon failed him. But the bear had bitten off his head, and then collapsed atop him as it's broken legs gave out. With him gone, it was only a matter of time until they were all torn apart. They were too exhausted to move, let alone run away. A defeated silence took hold of half the cavern, and only the echoing sound of the retreating rats could be heard. But then another sound disturbed them in their panic, the sound of a woman sobbing. "Duke... Earl... Why?" Lana cried as she collapsed next to Duke, her firing hand seemingly fused to the crossbow after the frantic battle. Duke was still breathing, and his collection of bites, scratches, and cuts were fairly minor except for the gouges left by the bear's great paw. But even that wouldn't kill him, It was superficial. What terrified her was what was under the skin. His left shoulder and arm were mangled by the blow, and lay in a horrifying heap, bending where they were never meant to bend. Most of his ribs and his collar bone were shattered, and what was left intact by the blow had been broken on his impact with the hard ground. Even if he wasn't bleeding too badly on the outside, he was hemorrhaging internally. Lana reached out to caress him, as she sobbed over the loss of her brother, and the reality that the other was dying right in front of her. He would never survive long enough to get to a hospital. They were miles from town, and had a long march just to get to the surface. She wanted to hug him, but his body was just so broken, she didn't think she could. She didn't worry about watching the bear, it didn't matter. It would come, and they would die. They would see Earl soon. As the explosion of green light filled the cavern, Lana didn't even notice. She only had eyes for her brother dying in front of her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The rest of the men had continued to stare at the bear in horror, but it never rose. It had collapsed atop their champion, and did not rise or stir. Whether it had passed out from blood loss or fallen asleep, it didn't matter. This was their chance to escape. Eight of the men strained to rise through their exhaustion, and they helped the crippled to their feet. They weren't strong enough to move quickly, but they weren't so far gone they would leave them for dead. They hobbled together towards the doorway, when one of the two who hadn't joined them, both deputies, called out over the echoing din of the horde. "Where are you going, David?" "Out." David wheezed, struggling to speak as he carried an unconscious hunter on his back. "Do you know the way? Because I sure don't." he asked sarcastically as he stood, gazing out over the chaos at the other end of the cavern. "Where's Gerry?" David panicked, it was amazing how much a person could forget in the chaos of battle. He hadn't seen him since Bill carried him off the line. As if in reply, a dazzling explosion of emerald light shook the cavern, and a man was sent flying through the air. It might have been Pike, but as covered in blood, bites, and burns as it was, it was impossible to tell. "Over there." he sighed, squinting through the light that was lingering unnaturally, moving like a tidal wave throughout the cavern. "Christ. I'll take my chances." David spoke as he stared at the rabid horde descending on the men in the distance, "Crazy bastards." "Go ahead, have your flashlights started working?" he asked as he picked up his machete from the ground, grabbed an axe and a long hunting knife from the bodies nearby, and checked they were strapped to him securely. "No, but we'll use the- Fuck... Where is the man with the flares?" "Oh, you mean Art? He's over there too." he gestured to the chaos on the other side before breaking into a run. David stared in horror, as he realized the man who had followed Pike and Bill on their insane charge was the man with the only light source that worked in this forsaken hell, "I fucking hate you, Mark." David groaned, as he quickly, but gently lowered the unconscious man on his back to the ground, and saw the sword one of the crazy rednecks had brought on the ground. It's handle and blade were both soaked in blood, but he pried it from the dead fingers grasping it, and hefted it's satisfying weight in his hand. "I know." Mark grinned with a hollow, hopeless smile that didn't reach his eyes, "I'll clear the way." David, and a few of the other survivors charged after Mark and the other deputy, desperately hoping that the charred husk of a man flying through the air hadn't been Pike. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As the core detonated, and Pike's body crashed into the ground, Bill and Art were just a few feet away. Within seconds the wave of light that had lofted Pike through the air crashed into them. It wasn't enough to launch them into the air, but it knocked them off their feet. It was hot like fire, but it passed straight through their skin and the heat seared their souls. Then they felt power coursing through their exhausted bodies. Their cuts and hastily bandaged lacerations closed and sealed, leaving only scars behind. Their worn out muscles felt alive, and suddenly they were full of strength. Their vision was sharper, their hearing more sensitive, and their sense of smell was painfully more attuned as well. Bill's lanky body was now quickly growing small, but dense muscle mass. The rugged outdoorsman Art's body improved as well, and on his already fit frame it was far more impressible. As they rose, they felt like new men again, better men. All doubt and fear was purged from their mind, all that was left was fury, bloodlust, and a thirst for more. Bill spared a single glance for Pike, and saw that his wounds had long since closed. He was alive, and likely soon to be the healthiest among them. There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that if he killed Pike, he would gain his share of this power as well, but Bill shook his head. It was a passing crazy thought, and he blindly charged into the rat horde ahead. They had been blasted off their feet, and were slowly standing up, but their injuries were healed and they were growing stronger as well. It would be a glorious battle, him and Art against just under eighty rats, but Art had something different in mind. "Fucking rats, hope the Sheriff doesn't come after me for this one." He muttered as Bill started rushing into battle, "Take cover Bill!" he shouted as he hurled a grenade into the mass of furry flesh that was screeching, hissing and howling just ahead. Bill heard him, and saw the grenade, but he knew that their guns had failed to fire. Technology just didn't work down here, the flashlights, their phones, and their guns all died or failed. He kept up his wild pace, and then his world was dyed red. The grenade had exploded in a clump of rats, and ten of them were torn apart by the shrapnel. The crimson spray applied a new coat of blood to his already soaked clothes, and a few shards of shrapnel embedded themselves in his body that was overflowing with power. "I fucking warned you..." Art mumbled, before he charged in after Bill, who was spluttering a string of expletives as he clashed with the 70 rats who had escaped the grenade. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The six men charging from the other end of the cavern saw everyone blasted back by the wall of light, but they also saw that everything touched by it stood back up as if nothing happened. The light rushed towards them, but it seemed far less imposing that it had from the far side of the room. They stopped and braced themselves for the impact, yet it was not what they expected. The wall washed over them, forceful, but not enough to take them off their feet. Their exhaustion faded, their wounds closed, and their sprinting legs discovered newfound strength to carry them to the battlefield ahead. Then another explosion echoed throughout the chamber. "Was that a grenade?" David called out ahead to the other deputies, "Who the hell brought a grenade?" "Looks like!" Mark shouted back. After a few moments, Mark drew out his sidearm that was still strapped to his belt, pointed it at the rodent horde, and pulled the trigger. A satisfying boom added it's sound to the echoing cacophony of the chamber, and brought with it the dawn of realization upon all the men. Their guns would work. Half of the charging men had abandoned their weapons because of their uselessness and their exhaustion, but the other three opened fire onto the frenzied horde, carefully ensuring they didn't hit the men on the other side. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Art drew near, he saw the rats trying to surround Bill, however they were no longer working together like they had before. If a rat got in another's way, bumped into it, or looked at it wrong, the offended rat would immediately tear into it with fang and claw. For each rat that Bill killed, another two were killed by each-other. This would sound like it was an amazing turn of fate, a chance for them to emerge victorious, except that the rats had grown from the wall of light, and as they devoured each-other, the victors grew even more. Art heard the chorus of gunfire on the far side, and he fumbled for the shotgun strapped behind his back as he ran. He couldn't bring himself to just throw it away, because there was a chance he could use it later, and he was rewarded for his pack-rat like nature. He ran right up and opened fire point blank into the rats that were trying to surround Bill who had descended into a mad frenzy. One after the other, he emptied his eight round magazine, blowing away a giant rat with each close range blast. And with each kill, his body continued to swell with power just like the mutating rats ahead of him. Whatever energy was pooling in the room, the rewards of their warfare had magnified exponentially. The few survivors remaining had realized the source of their strength, and newly discovered vitality. It it wasn't for the gruesome, hellish battle and their wounds, they would have felt invigorated even before the wall of light. He heard one of the Sheriffs roar, while brandishing a claymore he had seen earlier, and as the men charging over from the far side reached the rats, the eight men were all caught in a brutal fight to the death. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was utter chaos, and by the end only three men were left alive. All three of them had wounds that had far surpassed the level that the energy they had harvested could heal. Bill, Art, and David stood wordlessly over the corpses of their comrades, and the terrifyingly swollen rats. Some of the rats had grown up to half the size of the bear from devouring their friends and the other rats. David was staring at the half eaten body of Mark, dearly missing the sarcastic asshole that was also the best friend he had ever had. Bill stumbled over to Pike, and he was almost angry at how peaceful and healthy the Sheriff seemed to be. His wounds had all healed completely, leaving only wicked scars behind, and all the signs of his venerable age had vanished. Scattered all around the ruined altar were chunks and shards of the melon-sized emerald. Bill stooped down, and picked up one of the larger shards at his feet. "This lil' Emerald caused all this?" he sighed, the weight of their losses overcoming his battle high, "Fuck." As he stared at the source of all their troubles, all their loss and misery, rage overcame him. He crushed the shard in his powerful, well muscled hand and it fell apart like a clod of loose dirt. As he crushed it, a glow radiated from his hand, and all of his wounds began to close.