Octavius sprinted down the wide corridor, following its gentle curve to the right. His boots pounded into the stone floor. With each impact against the ground, he was propelled forward at greater and greater speed. The corridor pitched downward at a small angle in front of him, and he set his jaw. He had nearly reached his goal.

Behind him, the pounding of heavy footsteps against the stone trailed off. It seems that they found the doors I left open, he realized.

Even as his lead on the pursuing thralls grew larger and large, he didn’t slow down. He knew that the direction that he was running only led to a series of dead ends. His only chance was to trick the thralls into passing him and doubling back around to the exit.

Without breaking stride, he sprinted down the incline. As he reached the bottom, the end of the corridor was revealed to him. A few hundred feet down the wide hallway, it split into two separate sections. The fork that led to the right was closed off with stone. He could see where it once was, but the path was no longer open.

I guess they closed it off after I destroyed the Suppressor, he realized, not that I was going to go down there anyway.

His legs began to pump with less and less alacrity as his eyes traced up the side of the tunnel to where his exit would be. As he slowed, his eyes scanned the wall along the entirety of the length of the corridor. After a moment, he searched again.

What the hell? He wondered as his eyes followed the perfectly blank wall around the fork and over the wall of his right, Where the hell is the door?

For the first time since he ordered Finn to go on ahead of him, his heartbeat began to speed up. Did they close off the door when I escaped? He wondered as his eyes searched frantically for a sign that there was a hidden door.

After a moment, his gaze fell on three small holes in the wall. They were arranged in a line and were situated at about knee-height. He cursed as he realized what the thralls had done. The holes were in the exact spot his memory told him that the door was when he had escaped.

It was clear that the thralls wanted to create a second layer of security around their prison cells. He might’ve commended them on their ability to adapt and fix their weaknesses if their change wasn’t staring into his face like a hooded executioner.

He knew that he could get through the stone and into the cells inside, but it would be no use. Not only did he not have anywhere close to enough time for such a feat, but it would also make it abundantly clear where he had gone. He hoped that the thralls would think that he had dived into the underground river that the door he had opened would lead to. If he obviously knocked down the stone doorway to gain entrance, the ruse would be useless.

For a moment, he considered actually turning around and trying his luck with the river. With his stats, he could hold his breath for longer than any person normal could, but that was far from a guarantee. Before he could even decide if he wanted to make the attempt, however, the choice was taken from him by the sound of running feet.

Damnit! I guess that the doors I left open didn’t lead to much, he grumbled. His eyes scanned the corridor and soon fell upon the left fork at the end of the corridor. He was almost sure that it would lead to the Anchor, whatever that was, and would be guarded and likely a dead end. Unfortunately for him, it was also his one and only option, no matter how unviable it was.

Picking up his speed again, he began to pump his arms. The fork at the end of the corridor grew closer and closer, and he veered right without slowing. The sound of footsteps behind him had grown loud once more, and he realized that his pursuers couldn’t be far behind him. They better guess that I went into that underwater river, he muttered to himself.

The left fork that the corridor led into was even more dim than the main corridor itself had become. While it was still not quite pitch-black, he was forced to strain his senses to see his boots as they carried him through the tunnel.

Licking his lips, he began to focus his mana on the shadows around him. With the dark tunnel, it only took him a second to gain control of the inky blackness. Concentrating, he created a thin filament of shadow and hardened it. Reenforcing it with his will, he anchored it to the walls of the hallway at ankle height. He felt a smirk tug at his lips as he did so. It worked last time I was running from these guys, he reasoned.

With his trap set, he bought himself some time. The question now was how much? And what would he do with it?

Well, whatever's at the end of this tunnel is almost definitely guarded, he decided. After a moment's thought, he remembered that he hadn't seen any of the elite thrall Nightstalkers in the massive room that fed into the new exit besides for the two that were fighting with Kzedr. With the two his group killed earlier, along with the one he had killed the night before, that left almost half a dozen of them unaccounted for.

There's no way all of them are down here. Right?

Thinking of it as he ran, he realized that the chances of that weren't large. After all, if the Nightstalkers were all in charge of guarding whatever was at the end of the tunnel, they'd need to operate in shifts. Depending on how many different shifts there were, he could be dealing with anywhere from all of the remaining four that he knew about to a single thrall.

If they were humans, I'd say two guards, he decided, but with thralls? I don't know. There were two rogues guarding the Suppressor. So, maybe two?

He sighed as the light at the end of the tunnel quite literally approached. Whatever was at the end of the tunnel was at least lit brighter than the tunnel itself, but almost anything would be brighter than the darkness around him. I'll have to plan for there being all four and go from there, he reasoned, Hell, maybe there aren't any of them at all.

With him moving at a full sprint, he was a mere dozen seconds away from reaching the end of the hallway. Concentrating with everything that he had, he desperately began to create a shadow grenade. By the time he reached the end of the hallway, the grenade was far from complete. There were only three projectiles that would be launched when he detonated it.

It'll have to do, he decided as he threw himself out of the hallway. The moment that the area around him opened up, he hurled his body to the side. He heard a whistling sound and felt something slam into the side of one shin.

He came up in a roll facing back in the direction that he had come. A single thrall stood on either side of the open doorway. Even as he regained his balance from his skewed roll, they were upon him.

Large black cloaks billowed behind them as they moved in as one. Their alien faces were a mask of blank determination. Blades flashed in the dim light as they struck. Octavius moved quickly to the right. The movement forced one of the thrall Nightstalkers to retract their blow before it struck the other. The second of his two opponents, however, merely pivoted its wrist, turning its chop into a slash.

Octavius saw a minuscule layer of air distort around the thrall's blade and grit his teeth. He was stronger and taller than the thrall, which was why he planned to slam his spear into the thrall's blade and hopefully at least jar it. Seeing whatever skill enchantment, or spell that the thrall was using, however, he decided to play it safe.

Angling his spear, he deflected the powerful strike. As the two weapons met, a loud screeching sound echoed in the relatively small room he found himself in. Sparks flew through the air, and he disengaged with a step back.

The thralls moved forward with perfect coordination to take advantage of his retreat. They struck in tandem, never letting him so much as begin to launch a single counter-attack. Soon, he found himself desperately warding off blow after blow.

They had only been fighting for fifteen seconds, and he could already hear the sound of running footsteps. The sound echoed up the hallway and was funneled into the room. Octavius clenched his jaw as he tried desperately to maneuver one of the thralls in front of the other. The aliens seemed to understand his intentions, however, and countered him flawlessly.

If he could blind the two thralls, he stood a chance. With only the three of them in the room, there was a good chance that they could still fight using sound alone, but they would not be nearly as effective. Unfortunately for him, every bit of his concentration was devoted to defending himself. He hadn't even been able to use the miniature shadow grenade that he had already created.

The small ball of shadow hovered uselessly at the doorway, where he had left it after the thralls attacked. Licking his lips, he increased the rate of his retreat. To an outside observer, it would seem as though he was entirely on the back foot. In reality, however, he was retreating around the wall of the circular room.

Another five seconds passed, and he retreated past the doorway. The thralls were hot on his heels, not letting up for a moment. The moment they stood in the doorway, however, he detonated the shadow grenade.

The soft pop of its detonation was entirely hidden by the sound of clashing blades. The three projectiles slammed into the torso of the Nightstalker close to the door. Octavius sensed them bounce off almost harmlessly. With the thralls ready, he knew that even inflicting an injury with the spell was a long shot. What the impacts did do, however, was distract the thralls.

The thrall that was hit flinched away from the strike unconsciously. Its head turned to face the hallway, looking for whatever attacked it. At that moment, the other thrall was in the process of withdrawing its long blade from an attack, giving Octavius a single instant to gain the advantage.

It was clear that simply attacking with his spear would amount to throwing the opportunity away. Instead, he slipped his left hand to his belt and palmed a small metal dagger. The instant that both of his hands were back on his spear, the thralls resumed their attack. Their moment of distraction was over, but he had accomplished what he wanted.

The thrall's assault continued as the sound of running footsteps grew louder and louder. His pursuers would arrive within thirty seconds. His delaying tactics had clearly bought him time, just not nearly enough.

As the thrall on his right struck, he saw what he needed to do to win. Pain is just an illusion, he reminded himself and bashed the thrall's blade aside. Stepping forward, he ignored the approaching blade of the second thrall. It was clear that his opponents were surprised by his actions, but they were well trained.

The thrall that he stepped toward moved to retreat a step, but before it could, Octavius's left hand slashed forward. His spear had knocked the thrall's blade to the side, leaving the thrall's wrist exposed. By the way that the thralls used their weapons, it was clear that the exoskeleton around their wrists wasn't hardened.

The small blade barely managed to nick the inside of the thrall's wrist. The cut was only a fraction of a centimeter deep when his attack was interrupted by a searing pain in his upper arm. He retreated quickly from the strike, dropping the dagger from numb fingers as blood ran down his left arm.

The thrall that he had cut stepped forward to finish him off, only to collapse to the ground in a heap. The other thrall was clearly stunned by the sudden incapacitation of its comrade. Octavius's own blood dripped from its blade, and he struck.

In its instant of surprise and incomprehension, his spear slammed into its eye. Even as it fell to the ground, he quickly kicked the first thrall onto its back. The thrall's nostrils flared sporadically with its breath, and he stabbed its eyes with his spear. Twisting violently, he withdrew his spear and glanced at the small dagger where it had fallen.

Assassin’s Blade (Uncommon) - A short steel dagger crafted through magic and skill. It has been imbued with Evolved Valerian Extract. Uses Remaining (0/1)

He smirked at the blade and left it on the ground. The fact that the timer on the blades coated with the deadly poison had run out was mildly aggravating, but the Valerian worked just as well. He decided that he needed a health potion and pulled open the pouch that held them.

As he did so, his eyes scanned the room. It was identical in shape to the room that held the Suppressor and was lit in a similar way. The only difference was the object of most prominence within the chamber. It hovered quietly in the middle of the room.

As he quickly approached it, he could only think that it was some type of portal. It was oval in shape and seemed strangely two dimensional no matter the angle he examined it from. Its center was pitch-black, and its border appeared to be purple energy in a fractal-like pattern.

Realm Anchor (Legendary) - ???

As the sounds of footsteps approached, he desperately looked for any other exits to the room but found nothing. He gulped as he eyed what could only be the Anchor. Well, the thralls had to get here somehow, he noted, and this looks like a portal.

His eyes flicked to the door and back to the Anchor. Ah, fuck it.

He tried to prod it with his spear, only for his spear to scrape off a translucent blue shield that appeared around it. Cursing, he removed his blood-covered left hand from his potion pouch and reached out to it, hoping desperately that it was merely the enchanted nature of the spear that prevented it from passing through.

The moment that his bare skin made contact with the fading shield, it sprung to life again. Time seemed to freeze as over fifty mana was torn from his core. He felt his senses expand with his mana as it flowed into the shield. For an instant, he could sense the raw power of the device in front of him.

Mana on a scale he had never before witnessed flowed through it until it seemed to disappear at a single point in its center. Hundreds of minuscule filaments stretched out from that point. Most pointed back in the way that he had come, while a handful pointed in other directions.

Suddenly, a deafening roar ripped his attention away from the Anchor. His hand fell away from the shield, and his newfound awareness vanished as he whirled around. He barely had time to widen his eyes before something heavy slammed into his chest. What he did see in that instant made his heart skip a beat.

It was Kzedr charging down the hallway. The thrall's eyes landed on the Anchor with something akin to fear before locking onto Octavius. The alien then put its head down and charged.

No matter how strong he was, Octavius was knocked flying as the thrall's momentum was transferred to him. His spear slipped from his fingers as he slammed into the wall. His back slid down the stone wall, and he lifted his head. He had undoubtedly broken a few ribs, but that was hardly a devastating injury to someone with his stats.

His eyes met Kzedr as the thrall stomped over to him in silence. His chest spasmed as he desperately tried to regain the air that was knocked out of him. He saw a blur and felt the thrall's foot slam into his sternum.

He coughed and hacked as he felt blood fill his mouth. The thrall snarled without saying anything and grabbed him by the ankle. He felt himself get lifted into the air and slammed into the ground. A scream of agony escaped him as he felt the leg that the thrall held snap.

His eyesight blurred, and he found himself staring at the hallway. It seemed as though the other thralls had caught up to their leader and formed a ring around the edges of the room. No matter how much he wanted to remain hopeful, he felt the certain knowledge that death was quickly approaching.

He didn't lose his defiance when he came to the conclusion, nor did he feel rage or sadness; he merely felt at peace. As he felt himself get lifted into the air once more, he closed his eyes.

He hadn't planned to die when he stayed behind. In fact, it was only a series of multiple unfortunate events that led him to be in the situation that he found himself in. Even so, he knew that far more than a single minute had passed. By the time that he was dead, Finn would have long ago reached the surface and warned the guard captains. Even if he passed on, humanity within the tutorial would be far from defeated.

His mind flashed to the bloodstained circlet of yellow flowers that he kept in his pack. If him dying was what it took to keep that little girl and all the others like her safe, then so be it.

He slammed into the ground again, and his eyes lolled in his head. His line of sight was taken up by his Soulsilver spear where it laid on the ground not two feet from him. He tried to reach for it, but his arm fell limp what Kzedr's heel slammed into his shattered leg.

Black encroached at the edges of his vision, and he saw the grinning face of Castle. Only now, the young man's eyes didn't stare at him with the blame and hate that he was so accustomed to. Now they looked at him with respect and acceptance. The young ranger's smile was white, with not a drop of blood to be seen.

Octavius felt a smile spread his own face as he stared into the eyes of his long-dead subordinate. Then, suddenly, he felt the air hit the side of his body like a slap. An instant later, a thunderous boom echoed through the underground complex.