Summers sat up with a start, breathing heavily. He looked around, making sure the room was still the same as he’d left it. He took one deep breath before he started to calm himself.

The last few days had been rough.

He was sitting in the corner of a lavish bedroom, one of the few that had been left untouched by the creature’s rampage. The lavish furs that had been set aside for him felt constraining. Instead, he’d taken to sleeping with his back to the sturdiest wall he could find.

It wasn’t paranoia, exactly. Most of the time they’d spent in the aftermath of the fight involved cleaning up the remnants of the creature. After the blast, pieces of it had laid steaming in the streets and the rubble of what used to be the market. Whatever it had been, the explosion was enough to put it out of commission. The city had taken to burning any black, sludge like flesh they could find. That included any left on the bodies. And there were a lot, more than Summers could have imagined. Worst of all, not all of them had been victims of the creature.

Summers rubbed at tired eyes. As it turned out, refugees had taken to hiding in some of the abandoned parts of the city. They’d helped clear people from the rubble, some were alive, most weren’t, and the search had done nothing but burn the image into Summers’ brain.

He was used to death, hell, even during his time on this world he’d seen more than his fair share.

But all of those had been soldiers, moreover, they’d been adults.

Suffice to say, he wasn’t in the best of places. The window outside was only showing the barest hint of dawn, so he decided that it was better to have an early morning than to try and force sleep.

By the time he’d gotten ready and stepped outside, he saw Asle in the closest common area, knees held to her chest as increasingly harried looking servants passed by.

“Hi…” Asle watched him approach, even from this distance he could tell she was just as tired as he was.

She hadn’t said much since they’d found Logan’s body. Most of the time, she’d been in her room, or helping the others coordinate with the guards.

“You’re up early...” Summers sat in a plush armchair beside her.

They were silent like that for some time. She shifted in her seat as two servants started shouting in the distance.

“Do you want to talk?” Asle looked at him, head tilted.

“All right. What do you want to talk about?”

“What’s bothering you.” She glanced up at him. “It helped when… I…”

“When Logan talked to you?” Summers supplied.

Asle nodded.

The very fact she of all people noticed, and was trying to help him, did more to ground him than anything.

She was a kid. Kids shouldn’t have to worry about things like this. He was a soldier, he’d more or less signed up for… well something resembling this, if nothing else. And he’d have plenty of time to untangle his mess of a brain later.

Summers turned to the girl. “How about we practice. Why don’t you tell me about what’s bothering you?”

Asle looked back the ground for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“…Okay…”

It was a few hours later that the others woke to join them. Asle wiped at her face as Nowak and Cortez sat, looking just as haggard as Summers felt.

“Your eyes look better.” Nowak noted.

“Yeah…” Summers mashed a palm into forehead. For the past few days his eyes had begun to fade from black back to their old selves, much like the redness of the fog had. Everything except the iris that is. Those had stayed pitch black. Most of the servants still had trouble looking directly at him, but it was at least an improvement.

He didn’t blame them, either. Even during the fight he’d recognized something, instinctually, about the creature… Through the entire event, he hadn’t felt the same hunger directed at it. Even as it bled. Instead, he felt a sort of kinship.

That was what worried him the most.

“So, what fresh hell we looking at today?” Cortez tried to keep her tone light.

“I convinced Pat to let us into Rhodes’ room.” Summers answered.

“Any luck getting our weapons back?” Nowak looked at him with interest.

“He hasn’t made any promises.”

Cortez chuckled. “Surprised he didn’t roll over so you could rub his belly.”

“He’s an all right guy.” Summers voice sounded a little more defensive than he’d intended, Cortez didn’t seem to mind.

“Not saying he isn’t, just clear he’s got a huge man crush on you.”

Summers gestured to Nowak. “You want to take the room? I don’t think I have the braincells for anything like that right now.”

Nowak nodded.

Summers doubted Rhodes would have anything useful, but the man had known something about the base in Nevada, and the strange creature the locals called the hamr.

Summers flexed his hand, remembering what Rhodes had asked him. Somehow, the man knew there would be something wrong with him, he’d recognized something. And he’d died before Summers got any answers.

“Asle you up to tagging along?” Summers nodded to Nowak. “Pat’s a bit of a talker.”

Asle thought for a moment before nodding. He appreciated that she was pushing herself to help them and hoped some familiarity might do the same for her. Or at least, offer a distraction.

“Speaking of, his pops… or whoever’s in charge set up some kind of ceremony for the dead.” Nowak pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know you’re all tired, but they’re expecting us to show. Logan’s going to be a… Asle how did he put it?”

“Honored.” Asle replied. “He’d be honored by the city.”

Summers lifted a boulder the size of his head a few inches before setting it down in the street. He’d been acting as a human excavator while others, mostly refugees and volunteers, helped to clean up the remnants of what used to be the market.

Nobody had tasked them to do it, in fact most of the cities’ guards had looked to them to take over for Rhodes.

They were largely uninterested. They’d learned the army that had been waiting outside the walls finally began a very hasty retreat after the explosion. He couldn’t help but feel they’d lucked out there, if they attacked now, he wasn’t sure they stood a chance.

Cortez cursed in the distance. A few elves milled around in a half-collapsed warehouse.

“Dangerous.” She spoke in nos, emphasizing the word while she pointed.

Summers had done his best to help the others with some shorthand during their time training, it was mostly effective, even if it was supplemented with plenty of hand gestures and cursing.

“Summers, tell these fucking morons this thing’s going to fall.” Cortez shouted.

He sighed before dusting his hands off and heading over.

Sure enough, Cortez was right. Summers was no engineer, but he knew a building that size needed more than one working support.

“It clear?” Summers looked back at Cortez.

“My team’s the only one here.”

Summers nodded.

“Stand back.” He gestured to the elves around them, they backed up more than a few steps.

Summers put a foot against a wall and pushed. First it tilted before collapsing entirely. The rest of the building followed shortly after.

He waved a hand, coughing as the rubble began to settle.

“I ever tell you you’re bullshit?” Cortez surveyed the building with a distinctly jealous look in her eye. “Dangerous.” She pointed to Summers as he walked away, trying not to laugh. “Fucking bullshit dangerous.”

He returned to his pile, picked up a stone, put it on the street. Lift, step, drop. It was like that for a long few hours before he’d hit the floor of what would have been a small shed in the market district.

Then Summers saw a familiar face and froze.

As it turned out, Beorn’s family had made it to the city.

He put the rock down, took a deep breath, and began to walk.

He’d at least see that they got a proper burial.

Asle sat on Rhodes’ sleeping furs, swinging her legs back and forth. They were plusher than she would have expected.

A servant walked by, watching the room with more than a little fear in her eyes. The city as a whole had blamed Rhodes for what happened, and there were rumors that he’d been speaking to the creature in the nights leading up to the disaster.

None had so much as looked in her direction.

She didn’t know how to feel about that. Every time she’d acted, someone close to her died. And now, no matter how she looked at it, every person that monster killed was laid at her feet.

The others had tried to explain that it wasn’t her fault. That she was “in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

She wasn’t so sure about that.

The Payrst spoke excitedly with Nowak as he rifled through a bag. She was summarizing most of what he said, which was largely unimportant. But she didn’t want to offend the man, he was if nothing else, a friend to her friends.

Nowak continued to take one document out after another. He’d been like that for a while now, not even pretending to pay attention to them.

“Asle…” Nowak spoke without looking. “We need to get the others right now.”

“What do you mean there are more of them?” Cortez looked pissed, staring down at the paper on the table in front of them.

Servants had come looking for Summers and Cortez, hurrying them back to the castle. Asle sat looking just as confused as Summers felt.

“This is why the army sent someone to our base.” Nowak pressed a finger to the document in front of them.

It was a map, one that denoted the progress of something called the “adversary”. It led from Nevada, all the way to the city they found themselves in.

“They’re hunting these things down.” Nowak covered his face with a hand. “I don’t know how, or why, but Rhodes was supposed to link up with the 63rd. I have containment procedures, some raw data I can’t even make sense of. Point is, they were ready for two of these things. And by the sounds of it, there are more than that.”

“If one of these were anywhere near us, we’d have seen it.” Cortez pressed.

“Maybe we did.” Summers countered.

The others looked at him with concern.

“…I think it’s in the springs. The fog.” Summers concluded. “It explains why the army was interested in the ‘drug’, and why I’m… like I am. Maybe it got trapped there, maybe something else got to it.”

“Wait so you’re…” Cortez looked at Summers, more than a little worry on her face.

“I’ve been using parts of things I eat. Just like that creature. But, slower.”

Summers took a breath. What they’d learned about the creature the locals called the “hamr” hadn’t amounted to much. Most of the elves understood the meaning of hamr, it literally translated to “body”. But only a few knew what it meant in terms of a god.

Most villages had some patron gods, forest gods, gods of the home. But the hamr was more of a boogeyman. It came from a creation myth, a story that explained how life had come about as an accident, created from the pieces of some incomprehensible being. And, that eventually, it would return for the parts of it that were missing.

After what Summers had seen, he could understand why the locals might think the story held some truth.

“What makes you think there are more?” Cortez looked at Nowak, then back to Summers.

“Because this was breach four.” Nowak indicated a few documents on the table. “I don’t know what that means to the rest of you. But it sounds to me like there was a breach one, two, and three.”

Cortez took a breath.

“…We should take another vote.”

“…A vote for what?” Nowak looked at her, confused.

“Whether or not we go to Nevada.” Cortez gestured to the room around them. “Rhodes might have had the right idea here. We stay put and wait for the army to find us.”

“And then what? How are we going to explain a city of fully armed, trained elves?” Summers cautioned.

“That it’s what it took to survive that thing. I got nothing waiting for me there. And we don’t know what’s happening with Summers.” Cortez cautioned. “Not trying to be a bitch here.”

“If anyone’s going to have answers it’s the army.” Nowak countered.

Cortez held up a hand. “I’m just saying, it’s something we should think about.”

“…How about we vote after we know where we stand with the city?” Summers looked over at Nowak. “That sound fair, sarge?”

“…Fine.” Nowak cleared his throat. “We uh, we should get ready. That ceremonies’ tonight.”

“Right...” Summers hesitated a moment before standing.

As they headed back to their rooms Summers took one last look at the others. They were all starting to feel the strain of what they’d been through.

He just hoped they could hold it together for a little longer.

That night they gathered outside the castle. They’d been supplied with furs that Summers assumed were some kind of formal attire. Pat led them to a cleared area of the market where a truly gigantic pyre had been built.

Bodies lay on it, arrayed one after another. They were those that had either fought either in the war, were victims of the creature, or of their bomb. Seeing now how many that had been, was more than a little unnerving. The few guards that lined the streets watched them as they pass. Even through their normal, placid expressions Summers could see something… strange on their faces.

From this distance, Summers could recognize Logan’s face at the highest point, he assumed that was a place of honor. He was dressed just like them, arms folded over his chest. They’d taken his dogtag, adding it to the growing pile.

Asle cried softly from beside Cortez, doing her best to hide her face.

The pyre had already started burning by the time they arrived. In front of it, thirty men stood facing them. Summers recognized a few, Orvar, though the man was hunched over slightly, the twins, and more than a few from each of their squads. Pat led them through the crowd to the front, as they arrived each man began to kneel.

Summers looked around, trying to figure out if they were meant to respond somehow, only to have Pat hold out a hand to stop them.

He moved to the group, going to a knee himself.

“I’d have died outside the gates without your help.” Pat spoke in a solemn tone.

The fire crackled at their backs, the pyre beginning to burn in earnest.

Pat’s words were taken up by the others behind him. “We offer you our lives for a debt we could never repay, and as a final thanks.”

Summers stared back at the group for a moment, dumbstruck. The others just looked at him, waiting for the translation.

“…Asle… How do I say, ‘you’re welcome’?”