I stopped, tongue flicking out to taste the air, catching blood and salt and sickness. Like a wound left to fester. Exactly like that, actually. I followed the scent-taste, allowing myself to turn away from my pursuit of sound, pursuing taste instead.

Pursuing opportunity. It probably wouldn’t take long.

Luckily, they weren’t even that far apart; for a long while, I moved in the same direction as before, continuing to slither down the same large-tunnel that I had already followed. The sounds grew louder as I approached, and the scent-tastes grew with them.

Until, finally, they split. Blood and salt and sickness moved in tandem, twisting sharply towards a side-tunnel and tracing its way through the opening. I quickly abandoned the large-tunnel that had brought me so far; it could wait.

It didn’t take long for me to find the source of the scent-taste. The sources.

They lined up in a row, each of them giving off the scent-taste of blood and salt and sick, wearing the strange giant threads of ore-flesh, with bands wrapped around arms and legs - and then, from there, reaching towards and wrapping around the sleep-surfaces that they had claimed. Five Coreless, all sleeping.

Though these ones didn’t look as comfortable as the ones that my disciples used when we visited their many-nest; those, my disciples all but sank into, their heavy forms digging into the sleep-surface’s flesh, burrowing deep.

The Coreless didn’t sink into these. Didn’t burrow or dig, either.

I twined my way up one of the sleep-surfaces’ legs, quickly discovering that I was right. It wasn’t comfortable at all, the thing feeling closer to stone surface than sleep-surface. The Coreless beside me, sprawled across it, didn’t seem to agree.

He was definitely asleep, even if he made the occasional moan to try and pretend that he wasn’t. But I recognized that trick; it was a Coreless deception meant to ward off bad-things, noises made in their sleep to make their enemies think that they wouldn’t be caught unaware. One of the few parts of the Coreless’ designs that I thought was worth having.

Sleep could be dangerous, sometimes, even if the Coreless mostly hid away in their many-nests and behind barriers of black-water to do it.

And especially when they didn’t - like now. If I wanted to, I could have easily killed them.

Instead, I pulled myself a little higher, opened my jaws wide, and sank my fangs into flesh. [Life - Vitality] streamed between the two, and the Coreless began to stir.

Soon enough, his head began to lift, eyes meeting my own.

I gave him a hiss, tongue slipping out from between my fangs.

“M-m-m-monster!” he shouted, the sound terribly loud and completely incomprehensible, jumping back and slamming his head against the wall.

He must have been very excited to see me. Maybe some of these Coreless weren’t so faithless, after all.

He shouted in appreciation as I slithered towards the next sleeping Coreless, jaws opened wide. Behind me, the other Coreless’ ore-flesh clinked and clanked, as if they were trying desperately to follow, but couldn’t.

The constant sound of metal striking stone came to a halt, its sudden absence still managing to leave a ringing in David’s ears. The tunnel went silent, quiet enough that he could make out the sound of sloshing null-water within its bucket as it protested the trembling of his hands. He set it down before any could spill over the edge and onto his body; it might be a death sentence to get injured now, if the monster was strong enough.

Assuming that he had heard right.

David strained his ears, trying to hear past the ringing.

The guards, however, didn’t bother. They were already moving; even if it didn’t happen often, with the danger of the null-water doing a good job of keeping most monsters away, the mines were no stranger to sudden infestations. Each of them gathered up their spear, hands stretching around a shaft as tall as themselves. David could just barely see the xenlite underneath, the mana-receptive gem filled with a swirling gray. What was easier to see was the line of infused metal stretching from the xenlite embedded near its middle to its glowing speartip.

All in all, an odd choice for the often cramped confines of the mines, where normal spears could be unwieldy, difficult to move and unable to do much more than thrust forward.

But not quite so odd for these, with what they could do.

A quick flurry of commands went out. David ignored most of them, but there was at least one that he couldn’t - especially once his chains started rattling, and the lock holding him in place clicked free. Suddenly, he wasn’t quite so attached to the line of prisoners.

And, sadly, that wasn’t a good thing.

“You! You’re coming along with us!” his liberator commanded. Not that David felt very liberated. He’d rather have stayed chained to everyone else. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a vote.

With a huff and a rough jerk, David was pulled to his feet - but not too roughly. Not enough to be dangerous. The bucket of null-water, already more than half-full, was still in his hands. And, considering that was the reason that he was being brought along in the first place, it wouldn’t be leaving them.

David quickly found himself at the head of the group as they advanced in the scream’s direction, the overseer and four other guards following behind him - something that he deeply resented, even if he would have done the same. Putting a body between themselves and whatever monster they were heading towards. And also, he supposed, putting the person with the dangerous liquid and a possible motive to use it somewhere besides directly behind them.

The air started to whistle as they moved, a wind forming and pressing at David’s back. It wasn’t nearly enough to drown out the next scream, its direction more clear this time - it was coming from the infirmary, as much as it could be called one. More a small cavern with some beds than anything else. A place to put the prisoners that injured themselves.

Not a bad place, honestly. The beds were hard, but it was better than mining all day. Beyond the being-injured part, at least.

The wind picked up a little more, almost sending the distracted David stumbling. Only a quick reaction prevented the bucket of null-water from tipping over his feet - and that would have been the best outcome. If he had actually fallen, it could have landed somewhere much more dangerous.

Fucking enchantments, he fumed. Gonna get me killed.

And what was worse, the guards activating their armors’ enchantments meant that there was now no way out. He couldn’t even pretend that there was an option to throw null-water at them anymore. It would just fly back towards him; the cause might have been something that the null-water could absorb, but the shield of billowing wind that it created was real. Not enough to stop someone from rushing through it, even if it slowed them down tremendously, but more than enough to reflect some liquid. Even a liquid as dangerous as null-water.

Now more than ever, David regretted his attempt to steal from the White Towers’ stores of xenlite. It was a mistake.

He should have gone for their Skies-damned Core, instead.

Stupid fucking enchantments.

David sighed and steeled himself, hands gripping his bucket more tightly. Just a man and his bucket about to face down a monster. Monsters?

He hoped it wasn’t more than one. The guards would be able to handle whatever was left after David did his job, but he wanted to be alive to see that. And David didn’t have enough null-water for a large group.

Also, more monsters meant a larger chance that everyone in the infirmary was doomed to a terrible death. Which, he supposed, would be pretty awful to see.

But mostly, David just didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not so early in his life.

He was too poor to die.

Finally, wind whistling at his back, David turned the corner at the tunnel that opened up into the infirmary. It was quiet, beyond the wind.

Too quiet. No screams. No cries. Nothing loud enough to make out past the sharp whistles of wind near his ears.

The wind pushed at his back again, prodding him forward. He readied his bucket, taking one last reluctant step.