Bursting into the night air, Mark looked around. The village was dark, the only illumination coming from oil lamps held by a few villagers. Mark spared a moment of idle thought, to the odds of that oil being rendered from the swamp rats. He didn’t dwell on it, instead rushing to the flickering lights at top speed.

Despite the darkness all around, Mark didn’t have any trouble seeing. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. He could see clearly with his artificial eye, although the colors were washed out and muted. His right eye however was still subject to the darkness and lamp light. It was disconcerting, and a headache was rapidly forming behind his eyes.

“Might have to invest in an eye patch for night time fighting… or just go all out and replace the other eye.” he mused, trying to distract himself from what was to come. “What’s going on?” he asked Bernard, barely winded from the wild sprint.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Bernard stood in a small cluster of village elders. They were looking down at the mud dock where two elites were slowly smashing the sleds with big stone headed hammers. Mark couldn’t tell what color they were, due to the darkness of night.

“What are they doing? Why haven’t they come into the village yet?” Mark asked in bewilderment. Was this a trap, maybe there were more trogs sneaking around in ambush?

“They came before, when they first arrived.” Bernard said, looking on with haunted eyes. “These two brutes showed up and started smashing things. When the young men of the village charged out there, they were all killed. When no one else went out to challenge them, they left. Taking a few bodies with them, for food we assume. Hardly anyone would leave the village after that”

The old man’s explanation connected a few dots for Mark. He hadn’t been able to figure out why they would just stay holed up in the village and starve, when they might have been able to sneak out to get provisions or flee. The trogs had terrified them and convinced them they were safe at the same time. It must have felt like a warning; ‘stay out of our way and we won’t hurt you.’ The fact they hadn’t come back since then only reinforced that belief. Then Mark came, and started killing the trogs, causing them to come back.

“I think I understand, Bernard. We should prepare the villagers to...” Mark began before the old man cut him off.

“Not this time young man.” He said with a shake of his head, “we can’t let you go out there to fight for us alone.”

Mark furrowed his brow. He opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted again.

“No, really. We are old, and have lived a full life. We simply can’t allow you to go alone. No matter how much you want to protect us. We are going.”

“Bernard, I…” he tried one more time to explain that he had no intentions of fighting. He wanted to flee with the villagers. He couldn’t handle even one of those hulking crocodile men, to say nothing of two of them. The old man wouldn’t let him get a word in though.

“We won’t get in your way lad, here take a look at this. I think it will come in handy during the battle.” He said quickly, motioning Mark over to an ancient crate made of rotten wood bound with rusted iron. “We found these beauties a few decades ago, abandoned by the old quarry miners.”

Mark just sighed helplessly. It was clear enough at this point that Bernard knew what he was trying to say. It was just as clear that he wasn’t going to let him say it. So, he just nodded weakly and watched as the old man pulled a strange looking tool from the crate. It was about three feet long, made of metal and looked just like a giant hammer stapler.

“They used these babies to split the stone in straight lines. I saw em do it once. They went down the line with this special hammer, driving the spikes into the stone and it fractured right along that line.” He released a latch and the hammer split apart length wise. Now it really looked like a stapler. He pulled to top spike from the tube and tossed it to Mark.

“Check this out. I don’t know how it works but when it gets hit there is an explosion inside and the spike shoots into the stone.” Mark looked at the spike in his hand. It looked like a giant shotgun shell with a short spike poking out the front end. He figured the miners set this on the stone and hit the back with a hammer. That would set off the primer, driving the spike out like shooting a gun.

“I understand, we use these hammers to hit the trogs. If the spikes will split stone, it should split trog scales. How many of these do we have?” he asked, starting to feel a ray of hope.

“The crate held eight hammers when we found it. There are only six left, we used the other two over the years. It holds four spikes, if any of us can get a shot off, then we have a chance.” he took the spike back from Mark, loaded it back into the hammer and closed it back up. Before holding it out for Mark to take.

He hefted the improvised weapon, getting a feel for it while the old timers armed themselves. It hadn’t really taken Bernard that long to explain the tools and for everyone to arm themselves, but the trogs still smashed another sled to splinters while they talked. It was clear they were trying to provoke a response. If they were trying to destroy things in earnest, they could have easily smashed all the sleds, and the houses while they were at it.

“Do we have a plan?” Mark asked looking at the five old men. It was a surreal feeling for Mark, these ‘old men’ were probably no older than seventy. While Mark was pushing one hundred. Yet they were stooped with age and he felt healthier than he ever had before.

He was part of the oldest generation of humans alive on earth today. No one had yet died of old age since the Arrival. So, barring Mark getting himself killed, he really didn’t know how long he might live for. Blinking to clear the stray thoughts away, he concentrated back on the task at hand. He wouldn’t live through the night if he didn’t stay focused.

“Nothing specific,” Bernard said. “We’ll try to keep one of them busy while you handle the other one. If we get the chance for a lucky shot, we’ll take it, but the heavy lifting is still going to be up to you, mister.”

Of course it was, but it wouldn’t be much of a quest if someone else passed it for him. He only nodded his head, letting the others know he was ready. They moved out together, Mark taking the lead position and the others fanning out around him.

The trogs stopped smashing things when they saw the villagers coming out to meet them. Mark could see their faces split into wicked looking grins. He didn’t know why they weren’t attacking the town but he knew they wouldn’t pull any punches now that they were being approached. Neither of them looked worried or wary. They just stepped up onto the stone dock and shouldered their hammers. They really were huge, towering over the humans. Who walked down the dock towards them. There wasn’t much room to maneuver on the dock. It was nearly fifteen feet wide, but the two hulking lizards seemed to take up all of it.

Mark noted their lack of fear. It told him they likely hadn’t seen the spike hammers before. There was an opportunity in that ignorance, and without hesitation Mark sprinted forward. Ten yards separated them when he made his move. The trogs only chuckled wetly and casually hefted their hammers. Watching the foolish human charging into his death. As he neared the pair he shot to the right, hoping to confuse them at the last second.

They didn’t respond, that clinched it for Mark. They didn’t see him as a threat at all. That thought firmly in mind he swung the spike hammer up over his head before bringing it down with all the might he could muster. The trog he targeted only raised its hammer to intercept the blow.

The shafts of their weapons collided with a crunch. The trog elite was far stronger than Mark, but the handle of his hammer was made of crude wood. He had also been using it to smash sleds and that had taken a toll. Mark wasn’t as strong as the trog, but he was still twice as strong as the human norm. On top of that, his spike hammer was made entirely from metal.

Consequently, it was the trog’s weapon that lost the contest and broke. Leaving the spike hammer to continue on its path toward its head. Where it connected with a crunch followed by a bang like a gunshot. The elite’s head exploded as the hammer impacted and the spike shot out the end. Splattering both Mark and the other elite with gore.

He blinked his eyes to clear away the blood. The metal iris of his left eye only smearing the gore across the lens, making it even harder to see. The kill had been too easy, he was still processing that he’d actually killed one of them when his world exploded into pain. He stumbled back, each step another jolt of pain until his motor skills fled him completely and he collapsed. Darkness closed in as he lost consciousness, the last thing he remembered was triggering his parasitic regeneration.

* * *

He opened his eye an unknown amount of time later. That confused him, why did only one eye open? Reaching up to feel his face he found the reason. His artificial eye had been broken. The casing around it was still intact, thankfully, but the lens itself was shattered. Having discovered the damage, he took stock of the rest of his body.

He hadn’t died, he knew that much because he wasn’t back in the shuttle. He felt very weak, and his body ached. Blinking to clear his vision he looked at himself. His prosthetic was functional but had several deep claw marks carved into it. There were also scars, raking across his skin in parallel lines. It looked, and felt, like he had been mauled by a tiger.

“You’re finally awake,” said a soft female voice from his blind side. He turned his head around to see Lilly sitting nearby. After seeing her he looked around, taking in his environment. He was laying on a straw matrass, in a small mud hut. It was similar to Bennie’s, except this one had shelves lining the walls. They were all covered with jars that were in turn filled with dried plants. He recognized one or two, including a faintly glowing jar of bioluminescent moss. This must be the medicine woman’s hut.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice coming out raspy.

“We don’t really know.” She said with a tired sigh. “After you killed the first trog the other one went crazy. He threw his hammer at you before flying into a rage and ripping into you like a rabid swamp rat.” She shivered as she spoke. It must have been traumatic to watch. “The elders managed to kill him while it was distracted, but we thought we’d lost you for sure.” after speaking she leaned over and helped him get a drink.

“That bad huh?” he rasped out, after swallowing the bitter liquid.

“Your body was ripped to shreds.” She said with another shudder. “The parasite was doing its best to heal you but it couldn’t keep up. Then your muscles started shrinking and your skin dried out. It looked like we were watching a corpse mummify in minutes instead of centuries. Once we realized you were alive, we fed you as much as we could. But…I’m afraid that there was permanent damage.”

With a thought Mark pulled up his interface and checked his attributes. After he visited the shop, he’d been sitting at,

Attributes (human standard = 6)

Strength = 12 Endurance = 13 Agility = 11 Mind = 12 (+12 Control implant) = (24 available)

When he pulled his screen up now, he felt his heart sink at what he saw.

Attributes (human standard = 6)

Strength = 11 Endurance = 11 Agility = 10 Mind = 12 (+12 Control implant) = (24 available)

He had lost a point from each attribute, actually losing two endurance. He wondered bitterly if it would have been better to just die. At least then he wouldn’t have lost any of his augmentations.

He dismissed that thought soon enough however. If he died, he would never see Terra or the Tinker again. Not to mention having to start over from the beginning, no, that would set him back weeks of hard work. He wasn’t willing to consider that, not for a few attribute points. Besides, he was still stronger than he had been on earth.

“Well, could be worse.” He said after he finished reading and Lilly had made him drink more of the bitter medicine. “Did anyone else get hurt? Has there been any more attacks? How long have I been out?” he fired off questions one after another. His voice growing stronger the more he used it.

“Calm down Mark,” Lilly said with a small smile. “To answer your questions in order; no, no and two days.” She refilled the cup from a pot on the table, and forced him to drink that one too. She wouldn’t answer any more of his questions until he had drained the entire pot.

“There, it won’t restore you to your former peak or anything but that medicine should get you back on your feet. I’d suggest not using the parasite again for at least a week. Otherwise, you might kill it, and I really don’t know what that would mean for you.”

That was a chilling thought, Mark had never considered. He didn’t have a week to sit around and wait though. If two days had already passed without incident than that might mean they had whittled down the enemy numbers. If that were the case than he needed to move now. He might be able to wrap up this quest today or at least go scouting and see what he still had to face. Lilly must have read the determination in his eye, because she sighed and shook her head.

“Do you have too? They’ve never come into the village. You have time to heal.” she asked, the worry in her eyes spoke of deeper feelings than Mark could unpack.

“I do. They might not be coming in now, but who knows how long that will last. Even if they don’t come in. If the villagers can’t go out to hunt this place is doomed anyway.” He was convincing himself as much as her with his words. Sleep dragged at his tired body, even after two days of it.

“At least let me get you cleaned up and feed you some real food, before you go off and get yourself killed.” She said helping him to sit up. “I’ll get you a guide to take you to the cave. here eat this, I’ll be back.” Putting a bowl of meat into his hands she turned and left the hut. Mark didn’t blame her for being short with him. He could tell she felt conflicted; on the one hand she didn’t want him to get killed, on the other she wanted her village to be safe.

A short time later, he stood outside her hut. Dressed in his jumpsuit that was more patch than anything at this point and waiting for the promised guide to show up. He did some light exercises while he waited, trying to get accustomed to his weakened state. Bernard and Lucy came over while he was waiting. The old man carried a spike hammer slung over one shoulder and one of the waterproof swamp rat sacks over the other.

“Hello mister,” Bernard said with a smile. “Glad to see you up and about again. I thought for sure you were a goner after…well, I’m glad to see you’re alright.” Mark shook hands with the old man. Who then handed him the spike hammer.

“Here you go lad. It’s the best one of the bunch. We don’t know what you can expect in the cave but this is the best weapon we have to send with you.” Then he took the bag off his shoulder and handed it over as well. “Sadly, your bag didn’t make it. We gathered up what we could and added some food. It’s mostly jerky we just made, but it will keep you fed. That harness your strange blade is sheathed in, came out completely unscathed. What leather is that made from? It reminds me of frog skin but is nearly indestructible. I wasn’t even able to cut… I mean, it’s nicely made.”

Bernard must have realized he was beginning to babble, because he cleared his throat and stepped back. Mark smiled, not elaborating on his, Tinker crafted, tutorial strengthened leather harness. He did thank the man for the food and the spike hammer though.

“You come to see me off too, Lucy?” He asked the youth, trying to change the subject. She was dressed in the same filthy boy’s clothes she always wore. She now also sported a short bow, with a quiver of arrows over one shoulder. She held it with familiarity, and Mark could tell this wasn’t the first time she’d carried it.

“No, mister. I’m your guide.” She said with that impish smile. “No one but grandpa knows this valley better than me. But he’s too old to trudge all the way over to the cave. So, I’m gunna take you.” she seemed very proud of herself as she spoke.

Mark looked over to Bernard for confirmation. He had a hard time believing the old man would risk his granddaughter on a trip to the enemies’ incursion sight. To his surprise however, Bernard nodded.

“She’s right,” he said, not looking happy about it. “Since so many of our young men got killed fighting those two big lizards, she really does know the valley better than anyone else.” He ruffled his granddaughter’s hair as he spoke, pride mixing with worry on his face. “She is a crack shot with that bow too, it might not have a draw weight high enough to down a trog. But if you get in a jam, she might be able to distract one or two of them long enough for you to get away.”

They talked for a few more minutes, Mark waiting for Lilly to come back out. He remembered that she had traveled the valley with the old medicine woman so he had hoped that she would be the one to take him. Eventually, he realized she wasn’t going to see him off, and he shrugged.

“Guess we should get going then Lu.” He said, hefting his gear onto his shoulders. It didn’t feel much heavier, but he had a feeling he would notice the difference soon enough. The girl nodded in agreement and they headed out.

“You bring my girl back safe; you hear.” The old man called out from behind him. “And bring yourself back safe too, we are working on a little gift for you. It would be a shame if you got killed and all our hard work went for nothing.” Mark smiled at the words but didn’t respond except with a wave as they left the village.

They passed the dock on their way out of town. The villagers had cleaned up the mess in the days Mark had been unconscious. There were now only two sleds sitting on the mud, where before it seemed like there had been one for every villager. It was hard to see how much these people were losing due to these trogs.

“So, Lu.” Mark said as they walked through the swamp. “I’ve never been to the cave before. I heard about it, the miners opened it up accidentally or something and now muddy water comes in from there. But, what’s in there? Also, where did the name trog come from?”

“I’ve only been into the cave one time.” She responded, seeming happy to answer the question. “Grandpa and the other elders grated it off way back when. But a few years ago, they had to do some work to the grate and had it opened up. I went inside then to have a look.” the way she said it led Mark to believe that she hadn’t had permission to go in.

“So, what did you see in there?” he prompted when she stopped talking.

“Not much honestly,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “There was a cave that went in for a while, then it started to slope down and the water completely blocked off the tunnel. I guess one of the old timers actually dove in and swam for a while. They said the tunnel goes back up and there is air further in. but when I tried, I couldn’t hold my breath long enough to make it that far.” Mark smiled; he could tell she took that failure as a personal insult. He just hoped she wouldn’t get him in trouble trying to bite off more than she could chew.

“How about the name?” he asked, still wanted to know.

“Oh, umm. I don’t really know. I think the old medicine woman used to call them that and it just stuck.” She scrunched her face up, trying to remember. Mark thought it was cute, but didn’t mention it. The trek to the cave was long but uneventful. It took them a little over six hours to walk the distance. He probably could have used his interface map to figure out the distance, but it didn’t really seem too important. What was important to him though, was that they hadn’t seen even one trog.

“It’s just up ahead,” Lucy said. “We will be there in just a minute or two.” She’d pulled her bow and had an arrow resting on the string. Mark pulled the Broken blade out and held it loosely in his hand. He had the javelins but he still lacked a proper ranged weapon. He vowed to take care of that as soon as he got back. His mark III was wonderful, but he planned to check the shop. There had to be something there that he couldn’t lose, or get stolen.

They had been moving closer and closer to a sheer cliff wall for some time now. It was a common place sight down in this valley, seeing as it was completely surrounded by them. This was the first time he had been this close, and it was awe inspiring. They really were nearly vertical walls made of solid stone.

“That is incredible.” He said looking upwards at the near white stone cliff face.

“What’s incredible mister?” asked Lucy with a frown. Looking around in confusion. “I don’t see anything but the Cliff wall. You can see that any old where, so what ya lookin at?”

“You were born in swamp rat valley weren’t you, Lucy?” he asked with a small smile.

“Yes, mister I was. What does that have to do with anything?” she frowned at him before moving her eyes back around to scan for trogs.

“Nothing really, I just think it’s pretty down here is all.” He said thinking how something so common place to this child that she didn’t even really see it, was so breathtakingly beautiful to him. It made him wonder, was there anything right in front of his eyes that was as beautiful as this, but he just couldn’t see it? he probably wouldn’t know until it was ripped away from him, like…

“That’s the cave there,” Lucy pointed at a rough hole at the base of the cliff just above the floor of the valley. “Grandpa said it was an underground river or something that they accidentally broke into. I don’t understand how that’s possible because there’s only the one tunnel…if it was a river wouldn’t it go from somewhere to somewhere else?” It was a good question. one that Mark didn’t have an answer for. So, instead of making a fool of himself he just shrugged.

“It looks like it goes upwards pretty steeply. I only see a trickle of water coming out though, how does that supply the whole valley. Also why isn’t this opening buried in mud?” he wasn’t really talking to Lucy, but he had spoken his thoughts aloud, so he wasn’t too surprised when she answered.

“Don’t know about most of that mister. But once a year or so muddy water comes flooding out of here like a waterfall. Matter of fact, it just happened this year, right before the trogs showed up.” That revelation sparked his interest. Were the trogs not actually invaders then? Had they instead been flushed down the river somehow and gotten stranded here? He didn’t know and it didn’t really matter.

“Ok Lucy, I’m heading in there. You can come if you want, but if you can’t hold your breath long enough, I’m going to have to leave you here. To watch my back, alright?” honestly, he didn’t want her to come along at all, but she was going no matter what he said anyway so might as well make it sound like his idea. That was Management 101.