Riven was the first to wake up, his eyes fluttering awake as the morning light beamed in. He looked like he was awoken from something rather than his own will.
turned out it was a rock that woke him up. A stupid, sharp, evil little rock.
He groaned and rolled onto his back, staring up at the cracked ceiling. "Ughhh… How do I always get the worst sleep…" He murmured to himself.
Next to him, Eryndor was sprawled out like a zombie, and next to him, Liora was already sitting up, holding her knees close to her chest. Her eyes half-lidded as she watched the sunlight crawl through the building windows.
As for the two strangers, they were already awake, whispering to one another, and as for Shado…
Well, Shado was still in the same position as the night before. Sitting absolutely perfectly still with that rifle of his still in his lap.
Riven squinted his eyes, looking over at Shado. "Did you… even sleep?"
"No," Shado replied, his tone sounding absolutely exhausted.
"Did you at least blink?"
"Once or twice."
Eryndor suddenly sat up with a loud inhale. "I'm alive?"
"What kind of stupid dream did you have?" Riven muttered, sounding as if he was over everything already. He then stood up, stretching.
Shado stood, also stretching like someone who'd been in the same position for hours—which apparently, he had. "Hey Liora, will we be moving soon? I think right around now is a good time to do so."
Liora wiped the dust off her mask, and it seemed like she was blinking rapidly under her mask.
Y-yeah… she yawned, standing up, beginning to head closer to the rest of the group.
Riven then grabbed his speargun and slung it over his back. "No breakfast, I assume."
Shado and Liora nodded like they were in sync.
Eryndor made a soft noise of despair.
"We can eat once we close the gate," Liora added, adjusting her cloak as she looked at the strangers.
Eryndor pushed himself up with a sigh. "We're barely awake and were discussing battle plans or whatever already…"
"The more you complain, the worse it's gonna feel," Shado said, polishing his rifle.
"Whatever, only psychopaths skip breakfast."
"Then I guess that makes us all psychopaths," Riven said, standing near the entrance of the room with Shado.
Shado checked the barricades one last time, giving the shelves a slight push that was just enough to create a gap he could fit through.
"Well, the good news is that the street's empty. Bad news is that it's still a street." He whispered.
"Right, because that makes so much sense," Eryndor said, walking over now.
"It means we have to cross back into the open."
Liora went to the two strangers who had accompanied her earlier. It looked as if she was debriefing them on what was going to happen, but the two just looked on silently, nodding.
"Those two seem to trust Liora a lot," Eryndor muttered.
"She did save their lives, or so I assume; a little trust should be the least they could give her," Riven whispered back.
"That reminds me, how did you ever meet Liora, Shado?" Eryndor asked with curiosity.
"That's a story for another time. What matters right now is getting out of here."
"Agreed," Liora said, as the two strangers followed.
Riven leaned against the shelf next to the door. "So are we ever going to get those two names?"
"They told me to just call them op 1 and op 2."
"op 1 and op 2?" Eryndor added. "That's not going to help anyone in the heat of the moment. Besides, how can we even distinguish the two!?"
"Hey, keep your voice down, you idiot," Shado whispered angrily.
"Sorry, but seriously, how?"
"Easy, just distinguish their hair, or mask, or something. I'm sure you're capable enough to do that."
Eryndor sighed, turning to face the entrance.
"Well, I take it everyone's ready then?" Shado asked.
"Yeah", Riven said, cracking his neck.
"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," Eryndor whispered back, looking defeated.
Liora just nodded, and op 1 and op 2 did as well.
"Then let's move out." Shado quietly said, slinging his rifle over his back. He moved the shelves to reveal the entrance once again, this time, creating enough space so they all could fit through comfortably.
Liora put on her veil, stepping out first. "Will put an end to the Dominion's plan, once and for all.
"Right," The rest say in sync.
Shado pushed the shelves aside the rest of the way, and the group stepped out into the cold morning light. The dust of the street drifted in the air, less noticeable than it had been during the night. It was quiet, like always, almost insulting—too peaceful for all the chaos that had happened recently.
Riven adjusted the strap of his speargun. "Alright… another day in hell."
Eryndor groaned. "At least try to sound optimistic."
"I am, I'm optimistic, optimistic that we'll definitely die today."
"Wha- " Shado gave them both a shove forward. "Stop chatting and move already."
And with that, the group began navigating the streets, sticking close to the walls as they began to head towards the access point. Their steps grew fainter, eventually too quiet for anyone to hear as they left the building.
Meanwhile…
Above the ruined streets of the smolder, the world looked different. Almost calmer, that is, if you could ignore all the smoke that was rising from below and the panicked look on all of the nobles' faces.
Inside the realm's palace, where everything smelled like polished stone rather than the intense smell of gunpowder or soot.
Inside the place that lay in the center of the noble region, a messenger quickly entered the throne room where the lord was sitting.
"What's my status report?" A man in a red cloak stated, his voice demanding but calm.
"H-here it is, my lord." A messenger said, kneeling before the man as he handed over a collection of papers.
"What is of Commander Garrick?" The lord asked, skimming through the papers.
"W-we haven't heard from him since his withdrawal, my lord."
That damn Garrick… I knew he was on his wits' end, but that assault he launched was entirely pointless. The lord thought.
"S-should we try and locate him, my lord?"
"There's no need for that now, Garrick is smart, he'll be back soon enough."
The lord paused for a moment, lost in thought, but kept that intimidating aura that always hung around him. Part of it was because of that crimson cloak he wore, sure it was a classic noble look, but on him, it felt like he was coated by some unknown entity that always kept wraps around him. Another part of it was because of that nasty scar on his right eye. Long, rough, and the kind of mark that told his story before he had to even open his mouth.
"Gather the houses and the commanders at once. I think we'll have a nice chat about what to do moving forward."
"Y-yes, your highness, right away!" The skittish messenger said, quickly getting on his feet, then turning to run out of the throne room.
So, someone is trying to revolt against the very system that kept them alive? What fools...
After a few hours, many nobles and military commanders began entering the gates of the palace, and news of this event began to spread all over the sectors like wildfire.
This was the first time in years since the "incident" that all members of high-ranking families had met.
The hallways and surrounding area were all being guarded by soldiers, not leaving a single entrance or exit unguarded. nobles whispered to one another as they gathered and moved through the long marble corridors. It was obvious most of them had no clue why they were being summoned out of nowhere; half of them looked offended, the other half confused, like someone had dragged them out of bed without warning.
"The Glyph better give us a good reason to summon us here so abruptly," one noble said angrily under his breath.
"The Glyph…? He's the one who wanted us here…?" Another noble asked,
Some rumors spread through the nobles already, rumors of revolt and betrayal, adding fuel to the already growing fire.
"The lower sectors…revolting?"
"Don't make me laugh, the rats down there don't even have the intelligence to start such a thing." The man said, holding in his laughter.
"That can't be possible, can it?"
"I thought they weren't capable of organizing anything like that…"
The nobles whispering continued on as they entered the grand council chamber.
And yet, none of them even mentioned the Dominion. They didn't know that name. And they really didn't have an idea of what was happening. They were all just scrambling to make sense of all the rumors that were bouncing around.
Inside the council chamber, the lord stood near the long table, hands behind his back. That same aura lingered around him—the heavy, watchful presence that made everyone shut up the second they stepped inside. His scar caught the light, a pale slash across his eye that made him look like he'd been carved out of the same stone the palace was built from.
When the last few nobles funneled in, he finally spoke.
"You all are probably wondering why I've summoned you here so hastily."
"That's right! What's going on!? I have business that I need to tend to!" An angry noble yelled from within the crowd.
"No need to be so rash, I won't waste your oh so precious time…"The man walked towards the center of the room, his crimson cloak flowing just behind him.
"As you all should know by now, my name is Arthis Monderveil. The 34th great glyph."
The room began to settle, and everyone began to shift their attention to Arthis.
"Well then, let's begin." He said quietly.
He rested one hand on the edge of the table, tapping a finger once—barely audible.
"As many of you might have heard, something… unpleasant occurred in the southern sectors last night." His voice stayed smooth, unhurried. "An assault. Most likely A coordinated one, we presume..."
Murmurs erupted immediately. Arthis didn't raise his voice, didn't slam the table—he just looked, and the noise died off on its own.
"I chose not to alert you earlier because I wanted confirmed reports," he continued. "But now, I have them."
He slid the papers forward. Some of the nearby commanders leaned in, scanning the top sheets. A few of their faces turned pale.
"The southern wall was breached," Arthis said, tone flat. "Not destroyed, not overwhelmed— but breached. Intentionally."
"That's impossible," one noble snapped. "Nobody down there has the resources to—"
Arthis tilted his head slowly, and the noble shut up mid-sentence.
"I am aware of what you think the smolder is capable of," Arthis replied. "And I am telling you they managed far more than expected…"
He stepped around the table, folding his arms behind his back.
"Commander Garrick attempted a direct counterattack. Yet he failed."
Many people inside gasped uncontrollably.
"No, he is not dead," Arthis added, waving a hand dismissively. "He withdrew, and I expect him to return soon enough. But the fact remains—our lower sectors are unstable. And when something unstable begins to crack, it tends to spread."
A noble near the front swallowed quietly. "So… what are you suggesting, your highness?"
Arthis's eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in the way someone narrows their eyes at a problem that isn't as complicated as people pretend it is.
"What I am suggesting," he said, shaking his head slowly.
"Is that we decide—collectively—whether we will mobilize forces to stabilize the south…"
His pause stretched just long enough to tighten every pair of shoulders in the room.
"…or cut it off entirely."
That sent the chamber into another wave of whispers—shocked, frantic, and disbelieving.
"Cut it off!? You mean—"
"Seal the gates?"
"Block all trade? All access?"
"That would doom more than half the—"
Arthis raised a single hand again. Silencing the room instantly.
"If the south has become a liability," he said coolly, "then keeping it connected to the rest of the realm endangers us all as well."
He paced slowly toward the center of the room again, his cloak brushing across the marble.
"We can send troops, yes. We can attempt to regain order. But doing so risks further losses. And if whatever caused this breach spreads to the middle or upper sectors…He let the implication hang. The nobles didn't need it spelled out any further from this.
Arthis continued, "Of course, your houses will choose how much aid you are willing to commit. Soldiers, rations, supplies—whatever you deem appropriate. Of course, those who refuse will have their land documented and will mark your house for risk assessments."
A ripple of tension passed through the room—everyone understood what that meant.
"And if the combined support is insufficient." Arthis looked around the room, meeting eyes one by one.
"…then we seal the southern gates. Indefinitely."
The chamber fell dead silent. Even the air inside seemed to stop moving.
Arthis exhaled softly, controlled and calm.
"Now then... what is the verdict?"
Back in the smolder, the streets were turning darker the closer the group got to the access point. The underworks entrance wasn't exactly hidden—just ignored. A rusted metal hatch sat half-sunk into the ground near the side of a collapsed building. Most people wouldn't go near it unless they had a death wish.
"Great," Riven muttered as they approached. "Smells amazing already."
"It always smells like this," Shado said, kneeling beside the hatch. He brushed away some of the grime and checked the lock mechanism. "Give me a second."
Op 1 and op 2 stood on either side of Liora, watching every shadow like something might sprout teeth and jump out. Eryndor stood farther back, rubbing his arms like the air itself bothered him.
"This place gives me the creeps," Eryndor whispered.
"What, you scared of a little hatch?" Riven said sarcastically, crossing his arms.
"No, of course I'm not scared of some stupid hatch!"
Shado finally popped the mechanism free with a click. The hatch moaned as he pulled it open, sending a wave of stale metallic air to pour out.
"Fantastic," Riven said, taking a step back. "Smells like someone's bottled suffering."
"Grow up," Shado said, dropping down the ladder first. "It's just some pipes."
Liora went next, smooth and silent. Op 1 and op 2 followed without a word.
Eryndor looked at Riven. "If I fall and die, tell everyone I went out heroically."
"You'll die tripping over your own feet before you die heroically," Riven muttered, climbing after him.
By the time they all reached the bottom, the world above felt far away. The underworks stretched out in front of them—a maze of narrow tunnels, old utility lines, and dim lights that flickered like they were running on borrowed time.
Shado adjusted his rifle. "Stay close. If we're lucky, nothing down here has woken up yet."
Riven sighed. "Keyword, lucky," he said coldly. unsheathing his speargun.
The tunnel swallowed their footsteps as they moved deeper, the air growing colder. Whatever waited ahead—Dominion members, forgelings, or whatever chaos that lay ahead—it was all tied to this path.
And for better or worse, they were on it now.