A large pyre built into the ground and filled with loose timber sourced from a nearby park, billowed smoke - filling the air. Ashes fell steadily, one final reminder of what had once been thousands of people. Their morose act served several purposes, but primarily performed to prevent disease. Without a word Marcus turned way, setting out towards their goal.

Pickens Technical College sported two large primary buildings surrounded by parking lots or roads. Slim to no cover masked their approach, fortunately they’d cleared out all but a handful of Husks - less than one hundred. Predictably those remainders attacked and were summarily obliterated by the party, either hacked to pieces or pasted into meat under obsidian feet.

He’d assigned names to each structure – easing any communication issues before they could happen. The largest and most centrally located was simply Alpha, while Beta laid closer towards the western road. Alpha shared many similarities with what Marcus had seen downtown, primarily how alien these structures looked now. Odd angles and organic growths were scattered over its surface – in many locations completely covering over original parts. A mild haze seemed to emanate into the air around it, as if they were looking at a mirage.

More details stood out as they got closer. Noxious fumes started burning at everyone’s nostrils and pinpricks revealed mildly acidic properties that these smells maintained. Inside, traps and enemies would be plentiful – Marcus wanted to nip this entire thing at the bud by directly causing a collapse without entering. Commanding his summon, heavy swords impacted into select walls, but to his consternation they merely rebounded. He repeatedly directed hits on various sections, and again, no damage occurred; whatever The Blight had done massively boosted their facilities durability. Without any better option they’d go in manually, playing directly into their enemies’ hand.

Stepping through ruined doors Marcus surveyed around the vestibule – it was something straight out of a schizophrenic’s worst nightmare. Original fixtures remained but nothing remained untouched by what he’d come to call taint; akin to alien flesh converted into buildings. Murky tubes lined every inch of space – shadows played within; their contents unclear unless they opened one. Each vat stood tall at nearly four meters in every dimension. He felt a premonition of sorts filled his mind, and while he’d rather leave these things alone, they needed to be destroyed. Superheated blades made short work of their protective housing, melting so much as shatter them apart – draining their contents onto the floor; flooding a small area with sickly liquid. Fluid medium containing human remains unceremoniously dropped out, and from their appearances they’d already been partially transformed into new Husks.

Marcus previously worked under an assumption that The Blight were using bodies for their own needs, but these tubes effectively confirmed it. While he wasn’t sure exactly how the process worked, they could partially cut off Blighted reproduction if they could disable this facility; each vat held between two and three bodies and with thousands of them one could see how fast Blighted could be made. Thick cords led away from each housing, disappearing further into the building - likely terminating at a power source of some sort. At a glance, Marcus noticed crude magical script he could now barely understand, the text roughly meant – Convey, Transform, Fuel laid as individual characters, and repeated in a ring-like pattern over each cable.

Wordlessly, they went about their dirty work. Containers continually shattered; everyone worked together - pushing their luck and praying they’d complete this job, and objective, unaccosted. Like everything else, their accumulated luck ran out about just as they’d nearly finished with those vats located near the entrance. Sounds of running water suddenly reverberated through the empty structure, all intact tombs shuddering open.

Every single variety of Blighted he’d encountered aside from Colossi shuddered into unlife – released from their incubation. In fact, several new types sprinkled themselves around the flash mob - there’d time for inspecting them later.

Marcus started calling out for a retreat but turned around to find their exit blocked by the same fleshy material he’d already found unshapable and extremely durable. His head swiveled search for an avenue of escape, eventually spotting an oversized stairwell heading downwards.

Curtly, he yelled, “Follow me, I’m going to open us a path!”

Without further ado, Marcus’s summon pivoted, realigning its weapons before doing something not listed on its information sheet. He felt mana ooze into the Magmatic Berserker fueling the creature’s attempt at forcing its two swords ever closer together, causing already white-hot implements to boil wildly. A resounding boom marked an astounding fusion into what Marcus could only call an Ultra Great sword; stretching five meters long, and half a meter wide, the weapon leaked an aura of destruction.

Setting its feet, his summon swung its heavy armament in wide arcs, cutting into their enemies as if they were wheat. While much slower than before, each swipe cleared several meters of hostiles, rapidly clearing an advance. Meanwhile, Marcus and crew hadn’t been idle – enacting their own toll as they fought to keep up with the vanguard. He himself focused primarily on Bursters - fearing their acidic properties, and what may happen if too many hit his creation. Usually, fifty meters isn’t a long distance to travel, but a constant stream of reinforcements flowed towards them, originating from other unseen sources.

Each step they took, drained at vital resources rapidly heading towards depletion. Beams of fire and earthen spheres sunk deeply into various targets, but each instance worked himself closer towards empty. Husks and Bursters were trivial for even the soldiers now, but most of their expenditures came from new types. Without time for inspections, only direct observations could be carried out. Effectively, they were upgraded Husks - losing any weaknesses inherited during their creation; he even spotted these using rudimentary organization beyond simple hive tactics. Circumstances robbed them of equipment which they most certainly could use; their lesser kin had already displayed an ability for handling weapons. Marcus grew increasingly worried at their rate of improvement - what would The Blight look like after a month?

Upon reaching within five meters of the stairwell, his flagging mana reserves drove Marcus to fall back on an old method – melee combat. He’d only used Azarti’s gifted staff a handful of times, but in those instances it had proven quite effective. Standing in his summons shadow, Marcus batted away repeated flanking attempts. Ducking under several attacks, he immediately retaliated against their now exposed bodies. Enchanted warstaff met bone, reducing skulls into pulp. A brief pause followed his previous blow, allowing a brief inspection of one variant, retrieving only their name.

These Blighted were called Hastatis, a type of ancient soldier caste; the System apparently borrowed native history for its naming scheme. An Hastati stepped into the gap left by its recently slain peer. After momentarily assessing the situation, (seemingly smarter than their colleagues too), the creature engaged with Marcus. Much faster than a Husk, razor sharp claws whistled by his chest, forcing a reactionary dodge in response – albeit a bit too slow. Lines of split flesh began to bleed, Kevlar and increased Constitution insufficient to prevent damage. A wave of nausea rocked his body, not from pain, but probably poison. One solid kick disengaged the Hastatis, opening enough room for snap fired Scorching Rays to penetrate its skull. Marcus lacked enough proficiency in melee combat – he’d avoid engaging these types closely, their claws too sharp, and fast, not to mention poisonous; burning mana on eliminating them was necessary.

Salvation arrived shortly thereafter with his summon breaching into the stairwell, or perhaps ramp now that they’d gotten a better view. Marcus hastily created several Mage Lights, throwing them into the gloom, revealing a considerably expanded passage. The why and how didn’t matter for now, so without a moment of indecision, he drove their group forward into the unknown.

The tunnel acted as a natural choke point, and without any enemies emerging from the depths, they could turn to face those behind them as a cohesive line. Alas their advantage didn’t last very long. Whatever commanded Blighted forces withdrew after Marcus’s group started mercilessly killing its ‘soldiers’ much too efficiently; without surrounding them their attacks were ineffective at best. He couldn’t even barrage them with magic, they’d broken his line of sight – returning upstairs.

“Crap, these things are learning way too fast! At least they’ve gifted us time to recover a bit, assuming there isn’t another way down here,” Marcus said, breathing heavily and contemplating what to do next.

Thomas spoke up first, rubbing at his temples, “Fast is an understatement. They’re either learning by exposure, or their intellect naturally rises the longer they are encamped on a world. These tunnels are big enough for one of those Colossus to pass through – meaning whatever foul contraption creates them is also in this hole,“ he pauses while pointing at several cables running along the tunnel, “additionally those connected to the tubes above, they’re part of some feeding system I’d wager.”

“True, but not entirely. Those symbols are part of a magical language that is used in enchanting objects. Specifically, those mean, convey, transform, and fuel – you’re right. So, we’re not only dealing with potential Colossi, but whatever or whomever oversees this facility…great. This just keeps getting better,” tired he stopped for a moment, inspecting everyone’s equipment, “Those Bursters did a number on all your weapons durability, bring them to me and after they’re repaired we’ll need to move on. Getting pincered isn’t on my to-do list,” Marcus tersely spoke.

Nods were had all around, and a pile of pitted trash collected at his feet. He’d have preferred replacing many of these weapons but without fresh materials he would just have to make do. The repairs didn’t take long - their arms were returned whole, thinner, and somewhat brittle, but serviceable.

Reequipped and mostly in good health, their journey resumed once again. Marcus was fully able to see because of Darkvision, while everyone else made do with the dim glow given off by Mage Lights and his summons body/weapon. Fleshy material shielded the tunnel as well, and other than cabling, other features were sparse outside of regularly placed recesses. These cubbies wildly ranged in size, although each could fit a standard human sized vat at least; The Blight hadn’t quite hit capacity completely, not here at least.

After a time, branching paths began appearing, leading off into location unknown - these made everyone nervous, the possibility flanking foes rose considerably with their inclusion. The main tunnel persisted, while increasingly dense wiring taking up a full half of all available space. Soon, Metal doors blocked their advance minutes later, no handles were visible on its face, bringing to question exactly how to open them. At first he’d considered cutting into cables then using a created gap to climb through, but his summon wouldn’t have fit. Moreover, all the previously present cables appeared to have been rerouted into nearby walls, circumventing the obstacle; of course, simply shoving the doors had been tried too.

On a hunch Marcus cautiously approached their impediment, trying to feel if using Inorganic Shaping was viable. Like other metals he’d worked with, these doors resisted change staunchly, but they did begin changing. Unperturbed, he persisted with his attempts, slowly peeling back enough metal for his summon to wedge its great sword into. Acting on its new lever, the golem began applying force - causing horrible tearing noises to echo with the effort. Their labors were rewarded minutes of prying later - heavy doors smashing down faster than he’d expected.

Their jubilation ended before it even began, drawn by noise, a gargantuan form stepped through the ruined door, before barreling into Marcus’s summon. By leveraging its size, the colossus grounded its foe – ignoring any damage it sustained by piercing itself on various sharpened pieces of obsidian alloy. The molten great sword couldn’t be utilized as its wielder remained pinned, oversized limbs holding it in place. Armored plating cracked and shattered under the giants grasp, exposing vulnerabilities which were then exploited. Magma poured out from deep gouges, the lifeblood of his creature spilling onto the floor. In response, their enemies’ arms came under heavy fire. He’d learned his lesson during his first encounter with one of these and avoided using Stone Throw because of its inability to cause any meaningful wounds, opting instead into Scorching Ray.

Marcus aimed to remove its arm that ensnared his golems’ weapon, that thing would be perfect for felling this abomination. Rays impacted accurately, each individual spell caused little injury, but after some time accumulated casts started blasting chunks of flesh away. Black blood spilled under their combined onslaught, Adrian and other soldiers severed several tendons in each leg while it ignored them, prioritizing rapidly attacked its downed target. Damage legs faltered, flailing outwards and impacting two people in the chest – sending their bodies careening into the closest wall. Wounds accrued, and eventually its left arm couldn’t persist, detaching and freeing the Berserker.

Weapon now maneuverable, the golem intensely struck injured legs, hacking off its foes left within five swings. Leverage now in its favor, Marcus’s summon broke off, distancing itself, and standing up, practically ended the fight in their favor in that action; even twisted creatures like Blight need muscles to move. Missing two of its four limbs the Colossus struggled ineffectively, a literal lamb to the slaughter; Immobilized and defenseless on one side, its end came soon - bereft of its head, the giant finally stilled.

Combat had come at a steep cost - not only was Marcus’s summon heavily injured, many of its armored section completely missing, but two men now lay dead, Greg unable to save them; they’d been instantly killed by flailing appendages when they’d gotten too close, dead before even hitting the wall. Unable to dispose of the corpses led to them unceremoniously being left behind, only their dog tags taken in remembrance.

Their mission had claimed three men already, and with no end sight morale was at an all-time low; that was until they found out what lay beyond those guarded doors. Arranged below, and in front of them was a massive cavern, buzzing with activity as various Blighted variants moved about. Marcus equated the cavern to a large football stadium sunk into the Earth, at least when considering pure size. What caused his knees to weaken weren’t the hordes of Blighted, or the myriad vats spread around, no, it was a crystal – a crystal floating freely on air - thousands of parasitic wires suspended from it.