David and Erin delved through the last few tunnels they needed; Dave knew they had reached the Queen's location when Erin announced that all the tunnels brought them to the hall ahead.

When they passed through the last of them, they finally found a cave taller and wider than any of the ones they had previously visited. The grotto's walls were, much more luminous than any other up to that point; the shiny—almost electric—cobalt blue peculiar of the Source, expanded like veins on the ground and the cave walls, they extended from the middle of the room as if they were an extension of the Queen itself.

The creature stood at its center, like a giant grotesque statue. Its four guards were placed around her, immobile; they shielded her in a quadrangular formation.

David focused his attention on the massive creature at the center of the hall.

Night Scrapster Queen (Sourceborn)

Level: 25

Health: 100%

Element: Blood, Dark

Detailed Info reaches level 7. Increase displayed information by 7%.

The Queen reminded David of an ant queen, more than a cockroach. He had seen one before on some documentary years prior. Its huge, bulking belly was not expelling any eggs at the moment, but they were laid out all around the room.

The Queen’s looks were not too dissimilar from the other Scrapsters; the main features were those of a Laborer, so she looked more like a cockroach than an ant; however, her color was the same as the cave, an intense cobalt blue. She was likely more than three meters tall and at least five meters long.

The four elites were more akin to Builder Scrapsters, slightly bigger, but with two enormous snapping claws where, instead, the Incendiary Scrapsters had their fire throwers. They were partly covered in blue streaks and were not full midnight blue like the queen.

Snapping Scrapster (Corrupted)

Level: 20

Health: 100%

Element: Force

Detailed Info reaches level 8. Increase displayed information by 8%.

The rest of the hall was deserted; as it seemed, the Scrapsters did not like to show themselves to their queen. But, something escaped David, so he started whispering questions.

"Now that I think about it," he said in Erin's ear, "How can that queen substitute their own? Can Sourceborns give life to normal creatures?" He asked.

"Sourceborns are an emulation of life, Davi; not only can they spawn from nothing, but they can also corrupt it and take its place. Sometimes, all it takes is one individual to annihilate an entire environment and corrupt its species."

"That's wild…" but he wasn't convinced, "but why? I don't get it. What are they really?"

"Sourceborns are nothing but the result of our greed; they exist because of the Source and our abuse of it. The more we use it, the higher the Resilience Threshold climbs, and the heavier their presence gets. They are a curse. But we believe they are meant to balance the scale. Without it, even my kind would have already poisoned Arthan, not to mention the excessive emanations from the Fiend," answered Erin.

Dave nodded, the system was complex. "And those streaks on the walls? Is it trying to change the nature around it as well?" He asked.

"That is the queen's attempt at creating an area of control. Because there are Wardens and Trespassers even among Sourceborns," she clarified. "She is trying to become a Warden of this place; well, the Sentry is the first stage, so it would be starting from that."

David chuckled, "This is much harsher than I thought; maybe getting home would be the best option."

Erin chuckled, "That is always a choice, for you David. We'll find a way to get you home if you want to, someone to teach you how, I'm sure. But for now, I think it's time we started dealing with those. I could take them all on by myself, but I believe that facing the Queen might make you level up. I'll be right here if you'll be in trouble; just make sure it doesn't crush your head; it's the only thing I wouldn't be able to restore."

David chuckled, "I'll make sure it doesn't crush anything, at all."

Erin left their cover and showed herself. The Snapping Scrapsters reacted to her presence right away; the Queen instead shrieked at her, so Erin turned toward David, "Be fast because she's releasing her pheromones; back up will be here shortly, en masse!"

Dave nodded, then as the four elite left to catch Erin, he focused on the Queen.

"Damn, you're big. Are you related to Jabba the Hut? Because I see some resemblance here and there," in response, the Queen screeched at him even more wildly. Her small mouth dripped with mucus as she did.

Dave shook his head, "No, indeed, Jabba was much more dignified."

He readied his Bone Blade and then started shooting Arcane Missiles; his first objective was to close her sight. The place was already dark enough, with the only decent source of light coming from Erin's waving hair, and the dim cobalt streaks of light covering the walls were not enough for him to see. Instead, the queen's eyes were likely enough to see through the darkness and have him always under control.

But Dave's problem had just started. The missiles were utterly useless on the queen. Erin's voice confirmed it.

"You are not going to hurt her with those missiles at your level; use the blade!"

David turned to look at her, "You already got rid of two!?" He said.

Erin was dancing among the creatures like it was not her problem; she shrugged.

"I'm just taking it with calm," she stated.

Dave shook his head, "I'm miserably underleveled… It's about time we fixed that."

His conviction shot through the roof.

"Does this creature have special attacks, or can I just go in!?" he asked.

"Find it out yourself, but be quick about it!"

"You are of no help!" he shouted back, but he did what she told him.

Readying for a rush attack while the queen limited herself to simply stare at him and screech, David raised his Bone Blade in the air, his fear shaking the very bones of his hands. So much was his uncertainty in doing what he was about to commit that nonsense was the only answer he could summon to bolster his action. With madness in his eyes and invoking upon himself a state of mindlessness, Dave shouted, "For Frodo!" Then he charged.

The rush was short but very animated, for as he got closer to the madly shrieking queen, he cast Missiles of Arcane power. Each of those useless impacts distracted the queen, and as he finally got in the beast's range. David's very life was saved by one of those useless fireworks that exploded from his palm, for they blinded the queen just enough to make her miss an assault.

David's blade found the queen's abdomen for that very reason.

The queen rebutted by wheeling and doing so it lifted David with her, making him draw an arc in the air, and luckily for him, his blade got free of the spire made of her tough carapace, it was by sheer will that David didn't lose his hold on the blade.

After tumbling in the sky, Dave found himself on the very queen's back, the impact awakening the state of torpor in which his mad rush had conducted him. He knew that was his chance, and he took just a second to grab a hold of its fleeting opportunity. So, raising his blade up, gripping it with both hands, Dave put all of his insignificant physical power into stabbing the creature. Stabbing it once was not enough, Dave stabbed, and the creature kept squirming, agitating, screaming for her retinue.

Dave was still stabbing the creature's egg sac, and even under Erin's watchful eye, wave upon wave of Scrapster reached them, and yet, they stood there, immobile they could not intervene, they could do nothing about the duel between their queen and the Human, they were to be only spectators, and until the end, they remained such, mere watchers.

David gasped and wheezed, but he stabbed; her yellow ichor was hot, dark, dense, it had sprinkled all over him, the blade, his hands, his suit. It had covered him in gore, but Dave's effort and crazy rush had paid off, for the queen could not reach behind her back. He had free rein to do anything he wanted, and he had grasped it tightly.

After intense seconds of what some might define torture, the queen finally gave out, stumbling on her lean legs and kneeling down.

The queen's appendages shivered, trembled, and it emitted moaning gasps, last remnants of its breath. It was defeated, and her ragged breath, at that point the only thing filling the cave, finally turned into a death rattle, the last breath she would ever release.

Dave's hands were still trembling, and his Bone Blade was stuck deep inside of the creature's gored-out womb when the Source told him of his accomplishment.

The Source

Congratulations, Deviant Son! You have stopped the Night Scrapster Queen from corrupting the oasis.

Your Level reaches 6. You receive 1 Attribute point.

Blessing of the Source, Resilience + 1.

Your Class level reaches 7.

Mind + 1, Resilience + 1. You receive 1 Attribute point.

You have received a Passive Attribute Skill Choice-Token.

You have received (1) Small Source Box.

You have unlocked Arcane Blade.

Arcane Blade: Conjure a blade made of untainted Source, useful to attack targets at close-range. 10% Well filling per cast. Limit to 1 Blade. 10 second cast time. 1 second of cooldown.

Arcane Blade reaches level 2. 10.5% Well filling per cast. 1.5% Well filling per minute. 9.99 seconds cast time. 1.1 second of cooldown.

He sighed, “Long live the Queen,” before his attention was drawn to something else.

***

Cyana hadn't even come back for a day; she had been suspended, she had cried over her brother's death, had discovered that the love of her life was not who she thought he was, she had found out the existence of a branch of music that she had no idea existed, and she was now flying back to Headquarters after having been indirectly reinstated and assigned to a new mission.

She had no idea what to think, her head was a mess, but at least she had something to do. Besides, she had met this weird Hornless musician that was indeed Five, but not the Five she expected him to be.

The Headquarters was in the Ring as well; like any other military building, it needed vast spaces, it needed to be out of reach, and most importantly, enough freedom of movement. The Bird-Houses had been constructed exactly for that reason. They were nothing else but huge squared boxes standing on a firm foundation made by a massive building, powerfully reinforced with Sourceanium and the toughest alloys Fiendkind could make to sustain buildings as massive as the Bird-Houses.

Five's car was a new model dressed up to resemble an old flying car, in vogue decades prior. Why would he do something like that? Cyana could not tell, but she found no fun in driving. Only people who could not fly would find their fun in doing that; she liked to fly with her own powers.

They parked the car inside the quadrangular parking spot assigned for personal aircrafts and hurried to their rooms to prepare themselves.

"Captain; Sergeant," saluted the guards assigned to watch over the spot.

Cyana launched a look at Five. Indeed, he was very young to have already reached the rank of Captain. It was likely that his tracking abilities and the fact that HQ needed people who had already met their target had helped in the decision of giving him a promotion, but it was still worthy of respect to have reached that rank at his Level.

She reached the room assigned to each Special Forces unit member, for they had no common room, and prepared herself as speedily as possible. She was ready in under a minute.

Cyana, suited up in a black and Sourceanium suit, headed to the meeting room. She was the first to arrive, even before the swiftly following helmetless five, but what she found left her speechless, Virael was there, and he wore his military suit without any problem; he stood at General A'astor's side.

He seemingly turned to look at her, and she prepared to stammer something, but instead, he was addressing someone else, "Captain Geon, congratulations on your promotion," said Captain Virael.

Five—Geon took a second to answer, "Thank you, Captain."

"I made sure to suggest you as Captain for your remarkable and extensive abilities and your readiness in answering many kinds of situations. I say this because I don't want you to think that you have been merely promoted because of your knowledge about the target. The new team needs a Captain, and that will be you."

Geon saluted him by stomping his right hoove on the ground and standing as straight as possible. Cyana thought that, if their suit allowed their tails out, Geon's would be waving around for the incoherence of the unfolding events.

The room was not crowded, for every one of those that supported HQ's operations had to be secreted; the only ones that knew about everybody's identities were the guards who had been subjected to Sealing/Binding and the higher officers. Cyana was not a Captain, so she was not allowed to know the people at her same rank directly; if the Special Forces wanted to know each other, it was their freedom to do so, but not inside the HQ's walls—not that they wouldn't get to know it, anyway.

Soon, the room filled with the remaining five members of the Special Forces; after that, someone spoke, someone who she hadn't felt. There was someone else in the room, and she hadn't felt it; however, unlike her and the other five helmeted sergeants, Geon did not react to the voice that had just manifested.

"Who’s the Scryer among them?" The voice asked. The fastidious voice came from a seat at the back of General A'astor, who didn't give it any credit.

"It's number One," answered Captain Virael by pointing at the Special Forces members' first to the right.

The one that had spoken came forth; it was… she had no idea what it was actually; the voice was deep yet scratched at her mind making her feel uncomfortable; it was not an attack, it seemed to be his voice; she believed the biped sapient in front of him to be a he because of his voice. Yet the Source couldn't tell what she was looking at.

When using a muffling device, the general Info would come out as Hidden; now, it showed nothing. It felt like there was no one in front of her, that was how she understood what she was looking at.

She was looking at an accomplished Trespasser, a real one. Not the jokester they were trying to catch.

"Alright, alright!" Said the Trespasser, he was slightly taller than Five—Captain Geon, who was the shortest one in the room, "I was called here to take a leisure trip to an unknown world, but I got paid enough to share a few information on easing your search," he said, shrugging. "Well, listen then, because I tire of repeating things; I like the sound of my voice, but you guys don't and don't think I don't know that. They don't call me the Scraper only because I like seeing walls red with the entrails of my victims… Yeah, I get this urge to scrape them clean… it's weird. Anyway, where was I? Right, let's make this quick and listen attentively—"

***

After boarding the aircraft, Cyana was left wondering. No action had been taken on Captain Virael; why was that? What was really going on? And General A'astor? He had reprimanded her as he had said he would but had done nothing to Virael, why?

No, it wasn't because he was a Rejected Prince; being Rejected meant that he had not been found fit to receive the honors a Prince was due, but in Virael's case, he had decided to abdicate himself, or was that a fabrication?

She had no idea what to think anymore; weirdly, she wanted to ask Geon's opinion, but it was Captain Geon now; she couldn’t ask to form a Mental Link just like that. She was not his equal anymore.

"Get ready; we depart immediately," said the voice coming from the driver position. There were always two drivers in a military aircraft, and they were not members of the Special Forces.

They let the seatbelts fasten; then, as the aircraft started its engine, Captain Geon started his speech.

"Remember, we are here to eliminate the target; arrest is not an option anymore. Whoever manages to, shall be brought to General A'astor for the official investiture," he shook his head, "there will be no competition; the team composition is always the same. One is the Scryer, Two is the Tank, Three and Four are the Strikers, Five is the Scout, and Six is the Supporter. It's the Strikers' role to take down the subject, and they will do it in their numerical order; if Three and four fails, the task will fall on Five, then Two, then Six, and finally One. If—Source forbid—you all fall on your duty," and here he obtained a few chuckles from the squad, "the responsibility will fall on me. So respect the Protocol, follow the Scraper's instructions—should have called himself the hair screecher..." another gag, another bout of laughter, "and let's all get back in time for dinner. I might have a date tonight. Are we clear!?"

"Yes, Captain!" It was our collective answer that we delivered by beating with our right hoof on the ground.

"Then let's roll with the searching, One."

Cyana knew then... Five was born for this; however, on a side note, she had been moved to Four, for this mission, there was a senior among them. So she would likely not get the chance to become a Trespasser, and for some reason… she was happy about it. What had killed her brother wasn't just the human; it was the job they had given to him. She didn't want to live such a life. She wanted to become great on her own terms.