Over the next few days, the first rat men came through the dimensional crack, the magical gate that separated their world from this labyrinth. It was a small forward scout, roughly one hundred rat men strong.
They were elite units, fairly geared from head to toe. Their metallurgy wasn't superior to the humans' own, but for the survivors right now, it might as well have been. They had no access to proper military equipment until Torin arrived.
Even with Torin's help constructing proper armor from scorpion carapaces, their equipment was still below their enemies.
But the question remained: how skilled would these rat men be compared to them?
If you couldn't win in the equipment department, you compensated with superior skills and tactics. It was a basic truth of warfare that Benny and the others understood well.
They'd posted a rotating watch at the dimensional crack. Eight people took shifts, excluding Torin, who'd been working constantly on their equipment. Now they were armed with scorpion armor and whatever else they could find that might help.
Senna, their scout, ran toward them with desperation in every step. She was grasping for air, her lungs burning from the sprint.
They waited patiently for her to speak, but they already knew. They'd felt it coming for days.
"They're here!" she gasped out, her voice cutting through the sanctuary.
Their faces went pale. This meant professionals had arrived. Not mutated rats, but trained soldiers.
Gustav asked the critical question. "How many?"
"About a hundred of them," Senna answered between breaths.
"And their equipment?"
"Professional. Military grade." Senna paused. "Some of them moved lighter on their feet though. Scout force, I think."
Her assessment was based on what she'd seen before retreating.
Gustav nodded, thinking. "Then let us plan before they find our sanctuary on the first floor."
They were currently at the second floor sanctuary. Only the five new recruits had made it here, which meant they weren't completely defenseless. At least they were all professionals in their field of adventure. Hopefully that would be enough.
The discussion was brief. They didn't have much time. Without eyes on the enemy's movements now that their scout had returned, they had to work with what they knew.
Torin spoke first. "As planned, we strike them first and buy ourselves time. I'll go warn the others on the first floor?"
"Exactly," Gustav said. "At least one of us needs to get down there and rally them for what's coming."
Ripler, meanwhile, was eager. He'd been waiting for a real fight. Were these rat men as skilled as he was, or were they just show and equipment? That's what excited him most. To crush the spirits of these monsters and prove his superiority.
Kael remained calm on the surface, but inside he was burning. A desire to kill and destroy consumed him. These rats hadn't killed his team directly, those horrors had happened on the deeper floors. But it didn't matter. His hatred for anything that wasn't human ran hot and deep.
Benny, despite his cowardly nature, remained calm. Something in his gut told him they could overcome this. The advantage the enemy had in equipment and numbers felt like a distant thing. He felt confident they would survive.
Greaves, the old adventurer and veteran, was practical. "Now all we can do is pray we survive this. You younglings better pray to your gods if you have them."
With that, they set out fully equipped, ready to strike first and use guerilla tactics. Hit and run. It was their only real advantage.
They arrived at the first floor after traversing the staircases and avoiding the monsters they encountered on the way down. Their hearts pounded with the adrenaline of what was to come.
"Senna, take the lead," Gustav whispered to her. "Find out where they are so we can strike."
"Alright, leader. I'm going now."
They watched her disappear into the darkness. Sweaty palms. Racing hearts. The unknown factors they might face brought nervous energy to every person there.
A few minutes passed before Senna returned. Her face was grim.
"Leader," she said, pausing as if the words were difficult. "The enemies have split. Only a few are guarding their rear position."
This could mean several things. Either the scouts had moved out to search for them, or they'd already found the sanctuary where the other survivors were sheltering.
Gustav's jaw tightened. Either way, they had to move fast. "Then we move with haste. First, we destroy their rear camp."
It was a simple plan, but it was all they had. Strike fast, hit hard, and hope it was enough.