That evening passed peacefully. Once they felt they had worked hard enough on their Sigils, they all decided to take the rest of the day off and try to relax and rest up. Even the night was fine. There were no more signs of violent skirmishes anywhere, no flashing lights or distant booms that spoke of savage battle. Even the Safe Zone was mostly left alone.

A nice little feast awaited them that night. Clark had taken charge of meal preparations, and though the others needed an adjustment period, he had seemingly taken over like a force of nature and cooked several great dishes even with their comparatively meagre supplies. That was, after he had complained vociferously about the deplorable state of their food stores.

Nevertheless, Rory found himself tremendously enjoying the meal. There was actual spaghetti now, with meatballs and marinara sauce. Salami sandwiches, garlic bread, and some plain salad made from April’s fresh produce—the only thing Clark had “professionally” approved—made up the rest of their feast. Once Rory’s stomach started to get uncomfortably full, he swallowed a glass of lemonade and called it good.

Despite the events of the day before, Rory slept well that night. It felt as though they’d made great strides in their Sigil development department. He was going to have to find out if it was safe to go out tomorrow, at which point, they could continue making progress towards getting their business established.

The next morning was going fine too, what with a nice, professionally-made breakfast of eggs and pancake and maple syrup, before the Wraiths appeared.

“What is it now?” Rory found himself muttering.

He shouldn’t have begrudged their arrival right off the bat. For all he knew, they might have important information for him to consider or a message that needed his attention. It was just that, after the last debacle with the Homeworlders, his trust was of short supply at the moment.

Rory frowned when he saw there was another Wraith and Ghoul pair standing by the gate. Some of the others were standing too close. Threateningly close. Apparently, Rory wasn’t the only one with doubts.

“Hello,” Rory said, feeling nothing of the cheer in his voice. “What brings you here this fine morning?”

“We have a message from our master,” the Wraith said.

“Spill.”

“We have nothing to spill.”

“… I meant, tell me the message you have.”

It was the Ghoul who stepped forward and decided to speak. “Some of our scouts have discovered a new domain that holds some human survivors.”

“More of them?” Ned asked. He turned to Rory with sceptical eyes. “How do we know this isn’t another trap?”

“We don’t.” Rory sighed. He gestured at the monsters to continue. “Let’s hear the rest.”

“It is not a trap,” the Wraith said.

The Ghoul didn’t nod or corroborate his Wraith partner. Instead, he replied directly to Rory. “At the park, there is a new dungeon populated by monsters, though these are of a different kind than the ones you have faced so far.”

“Different how?”

“They are monstrous, but they are borne from this world rather than coming from a different one. They do not have the same instincts and intentions as the ones you have fought so far.”

“And the survivors?” Viv asked. “Are they trapped in the dungeon? Are the monsters keeping them there? Are they killing them? Give us more details.”

“I am afraid we do not have more knowledge,” the Wraith said. “Our scout returned with grievous wounds and was unable to tell us anything beyond what we have stated. We may send more down there, if you so desire, but the Wraith Lord does not expect the outcome to be any different from before. Therefore, it may be best if you inspected the area instead.”

“Do you have any proof this isn’t all hogwash?”

The Wraith and the Ghoul looked at each other. Rory frowned at them. He wished there was some way to tell what was going on in their heads. Even after obtaining his Sigils of Learning, it seemed the creatures hadn’t learned how to display emotions. Or maybe that was a physiological limitation they couldn’t simply unlearn.

“We do not have proof of our statement,” the Wraith said. “However, we do have proof we are who we say who we are. Would that suffice?”

Rory sighed. “Well, if you’re not some Djinn in disguise or doing their bidding for some reason, I think that’s going to be the best we can do. Let’s hear it, then. What secret about the Wraith Lord are you going to tell us?”

“The police officer, Alves, was a man with a very low, growly voice. Brave to the end, but always ready to give all of himself for the sake of others.”

“What?” Viv shook her head. “Why are you telling us that?”

“When we caught him, he screamed for us to let him go, for us to spare him and not hurt him. I believe he was suffering under our combined Lifedrain auras, thus slowly dying. However, once he had settled down into his new circumstances, he quickly recovered his mental faculties. The first thing he said afterwards was that he hoped that his life would suffice so that those he had left behind wouldn’t be put in danger.”

Rory swallowed. That wasn’t what he had been expecting to hear. Alves’s death still didn’t sit well with him, and hearing the Wraiths report of what he had gone through only made his heart twist further. He’d been brave, dutiful, loyal, and helpful to a fault in the tiny amount of time Rory had known him, but this…

This made him sound like a hero.

“We did not know how much he meant to your kind. His capture brought down your wrath, and your invasion caused us great pain. Our streets were damaged, our homes frozen over, our sense of peace and calm turned into roiling turmoil.”

“You were stealing people’s lives,” Trish said. “You’re lucky we didn’t kill you all.”

“Those of us who died never received any proper funerals,” the Ghoul said. “The Wraith Lord does not believe in such things, and he is not one to care for such customs. He believed they are Homeworlder foolishness. We know better. We understand now how important it is to respect the memories of the fallen and the departed. It is, after all, the least that anyone can do.”

The Wraith spoke next, leaving them no room to properly consider the Ghoul’s words or deal with the feelings that arose from them. “It is only recently that we realized how… different we are, both from you Homeworlders and from other Otherworlders. We are neither. We sit in a strange place where we are Homeworlders and Otherworlders both.”

Now Rory’s heart was beginning to race. “What do you mean?”

“Do you now believe that we are who we say we are?” the Ghoul asked.

Rory had to think for a second before the question made sense. “I… yes, I believe you. I need answers, though. What do you mean you’re both Homeworlder and Otherworlder at the same time?”

“Rory, we don’t have time for that,” Viv said. “If they’re right, we should head out. With the proper precautions, of course.”

Rory swallowed. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

They prepared their party, and Rory tried to redirect his thoughts into more productive channels. What he needed right then was some more knowledge about what they might be facing in the new dungeon under the park, but that was impossible. He was going to have to make the best judgement with what he knew.

It was best if they had a mix of new people trying to get some experience and the older, more experienced people acting as backup. To that end, Rory decided to take Evelyn, Dez, and Miles with him, along with Lucy and another newcomer called Ferdous.

Some of the others needed to perform a different task—that of finding out exactly where they could find the parts they needed to fix the jeep. To that end, Ned, Harlow, and Viv decided to head out on foot. Rory didn’t like that they didn’t have a good vehicle for quick getaways, but Viv’s teleportation powers would come in handy as a makeshift replacement. Ned could fly around on his Burnwing appendages, of course.

Before they left, Rory decided to carry out some insurance. He called Talvic and reported that he was heading out once more into unknown territory, and was still afraid this could be a trap. As such, if he didn’t call the dwarf minelord in a couple of hours, he was to send whatever help he could.

“You are quite insane, you understand that?” Talvic had said, clearly frustrated. “You beg far more of me than we had outlined in our deal!”

“I know,” Rory said. “And I appreciate it. It was thanks to you that Arelland got to us in time. I’ll make it up to you however I can when I can. You trust me, right?”

“I trust you to get yourself killed without my help, yes.”

Rory laughed. “Thanks, Talvic. Talk to you later.”

He cut off the call to the minelord’s grumbles.

Their destination wasn’t that far from the palace. They simply had to travel for a while to the north until the buildings around them grew sparse.

Rory wasn’t sure he believed what he saw when the Hillhard Town Park finally came into view.

“What in the world happened here?” Lucy asked.

Rory had no answer. The ground on the park had been rent and torn up as though giant earthworms had travelled through and turned everything inside out. Fissures crisscrossed the entire area, ranging in size from small cracks to gorges that could swallow cars easily. Stray mounds of earth were piled all over the place haphazardly. Some trees were completely upended so that their branches were lost underneath the ground and their roots waved in the air.

“Anyone know where the entrance to this might be?” Dez asked. “It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been to the park.”

“It’s a dungeon now,” Evelyn said, looking around over the whole area. “So the entrance probably shifted. Makes sense too. Look at the way the earth’s been ruptured. That clearly means they don’t want anyone traipsing on top.”

They. Rory wondered if it was the Otherworlders their liaisons had mentioned who had done this. He imagined dungeons as a series of tunnels and the like within the earth itself, which didn’t necessarily require that everything above the dungeon had to be destroyed. But if the creators wanted everyone to take the path that led within…

“You don’t think we can just jump down through the cracks?” Lucy asked. “How deep can they be?”

“No idea,” Rory said. “But some of us aren’t great at jumping.”

Dez grinned at him. “Don’t worry, man. I’ll carry you.”

Rory only shook his head. They eventually stopped the pickup truck around near the actual gate to the park, which had been destroyed. No surprise there. But they made an interesting discovery—there was a large hole right in front of the gate, the bottom of which was only a few feet deep. Apparently, the ones who had taken over the park clearly wanted visitors to go through.

“There we go,” Evelyn said. “Our vaunted entrance.”

They formed up into two parties. Miles would remain behind with Ferdous to protect the pickup, in case something came along to try and destroy it. The rest of them would jump in and explore, hopefully finding out wherever it was the survivors were hiding.

The biggest problem was if it was a trap or not. They had no way of verifying. All they could do was remain vigilant and wary. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst, and all that.

If Rory really thought about it, he could see just how easily they were walking into certain death. The Homeworlders who might have been here could have been observing them from far too many hiding points, could be lying in ambush deeper within the dungeon they might have already explored, in which case, they’d be holding all the advantage. For all Rory knew, there might be a trap with a Sigil that cause an immediate explosion, like a mine or something.

Worrying about it incessantly wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Rory held out his staff as they jumped into the hole and trudged farther in. Caution and wariness were their greatest allies here. Besides, they had been training all day yesterday. They were stronger now. The Homeworlders would be in for a rude awakening if they decided to show up.

Best of all, Lucy had the Sigil of Extinguishing. If anything at all came at them with Sigil powers activated, she could wipe them out without trouble.

Rory had activated his Sigil of Barricading Blizzard in his staff, causing the hollow sockets of the metal skull to glow with eerie blue light. He held off from firing the blizzard just yet. All they needed was illumination to see in the dark.

“Which way?” Evelyn asked.

Rory wasn’t sure. The little room they’d entered into was low and opened up into two corridors leading in different directions. Thankfully, shining a light into the left one revealed that it was a dead end not too far off.

As such, they picked the right. Rory tried to pay attention to the senses he had other than sight. He could hear faint slithering from somewhere, as well light, windy moans and what sounded like the drip of water. There was a damp, earth smell, which was to be expected, and also the faint smell as if of something rotting. He grimaced. There was no telling what the survivors’ condition was.

Everyone else was tense too. Evelyn’s shoulders were hunched over, Dez’s veins stood out where his skin was exposed, and Lucy twitched at everything with even the minutest of stimuli.

“What’s that?” she asked after they rounded a corner, voice hushed.

“What?” Dez asked. His Chthonic Inferno flared on his fist. “Where?”

“There. Up ahead and to the left.”

Rory followed her gaze and found something strange. It looked like a thick vine, easily as wide as a boa constrictor, covered with dry leaves. Strangest thing was that it was moving, lazily undulating this way and that.

“A plant thing…” Evelyn almost audibly swallowed. “We’ve seen those before.”

She was right. They had seen it before. They had even fought one before. The monster the thick vine belonged to started moving, the whole dungeon beginning to shake. Rory swallowed too, holding his staff ready as he saw the others preparing to use their various Sigils.

Their first obstacle had presented itself. The Wilder turned around and faced them.