Siren, clutching his head tightly, tried to stand up, leaning on the body of a huge ant. He still heard the residual white noise in his ears, trying to drown out the pain by gritting his teeth. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose, indicating that the psychic attack had hit him harder than he expected.
"Damn... looks like the plan worked," he thought, turning around to look at the cluttered bodies, each the size of a car.
With a focused gaze, he saw fragments of dead ether emanating in a thin veil from the ants' bodies, corroding their flesh. It was common for the residual granules in the infected bodies to overheat, turning into a dangerous gas. Seeing the reaction passing through the corpses, Siren didn't hesitate and ran toward the platform.
Staying here was too dangerous. Finding Mearin kneeling, Siren tried to lift him.
"Come on, old man! No time for idleness!"
Siren understood that the senior mage had overstrained his synchrony channels. They were probably clogged with the surrounding dead ether, causing him to lose consciousness.
"Damn, we're like rats on a powder keg here!"
Unfortunately, Siren had no chance to let him rest. Soon, the gaseous form of dead ether in the ants' bodies would cause a "delay" before exploding. Most likely, it would trigger a chain reaction, blowing everything up here.
Perhaps Siren could have run away alone, leaving the Mage to his fate. But for some reason, he didn't want to do that. Dropping everything unnecessary, Siren laid unconscious Mearin on himself, grabbing his staff. The heavy burden of the old man slowed him down considerably, but he didn't give up, moving into the nearest passage.
"Damn! Damn! Damn!"
He clearly saw the ether weakly pulsing in the sprawled ant bodies, finding no escape. Probably, it wouldn't take more than five minutes before the first of them started to compress under pressure. Moving as fast as possible into one of the tunnels, Siren didn't stop, continuing forward.
Something inside told him to abandon the old man and run, but either due to emotional spikes or just stupidity, he refused to listen to common sense. At one point, he heard a very loud bang behind him, as if dynamite had exploded at the end of the tunnel.
But following the first, as in a chain reaction, came other bangs. Dust rained from the ceiling, and the entire anthill trembled from the explosions. Probably, the chain of explosions triggered the detonation of traps in nearby walls, shaking the labyrinth. Siren couldn't cover his ears because he had to carry Mearin.
The deafening crashes rolling underground in waves flooded his mind, and he heard only residual noise. Fortunately, he managed to shelter deep in one of the tunnels where the ether blast didn't reach. He specifically looked for the "cleanest" area during retreat — and it helped him. Otherwise, being in the same trap cluster, they wouldn't have survived.
When the explosions finally ceased, Siren realized the senior mage had come to.
"Awake at last?" he asked.
Mearin's face was pale as a canvas, while large drops of sweat ran down his forehead.
"What happened?" the old man croaked.
"I pulled you out," Siren replied shortly, looking at him.
Though Mearin regained consciousness, he still couldn't move. With a weak voice, he said:
"Ha, looks like your scheme worked, kid."
Siren just silently nodded, not delving into details. He still didn't know what had happened to the ants, though he had guesses. The strange currents in their bodies were undoubtedly dead ether — confirmed by the explosion that occurred after their deaths. But the main mystery remained unsolved.
"Old man, is there a formula… to control the dead?" Siren suddenly asked.
Mearin frowned, still recovering from the overload of synchrony channels.
"You think someone controlled them?" the old mage replied, answering question with question.
"These creatures looked too battered. Besides, there was no blood or other fluids. More like puppets stuffed with ore. I don't know if it's possible, but these were clearly walking dead."
Mearin still frowned, speechless.
At that moment, someone's ugly laughter echoed down the tunnel.
Turning around, Siren noticed strange ether whirlwinds sliding through the air.
"Oh, such observance! I didn't think you could be so attentive~" — a voice approached from the single passage, accompanied by mocking laughter.
"What..? How..?" Siren said in genuine surprise, eyes wide open, looking at the approaching figure.
A thin, angular face was covered with barely noticeable freckles. Eyes behind glasses had a dirty yellowish tint, and the perpetually weak smile turned into a predatory grin. But what caught the eye most was a pair of shaggy ears suddenly grown on the crown of the head.
Despite obvious changes in the face, this was definitely the same person Siren remembered.
"Lance..?" he blurted out.
The man thought dead unexpectedly appeared before him, as if he had never died.
"Don't call me by name, rat, I can kill for that~" the mage smiled slyly as before.
"How is that possible? Evaline said your heart failed!" Mearin suddenly interrupted, also stunned by the dead man's appearance.
"Ah~ you mean my death? How unfortunate you're so naive~ But I must thank you for it — thanks to you, I got a new toy~"
With a slippery tone and a creepy smile, Lance waved his hand, slightly touching a stream of ether. At that moment, a black-haired female medic with empty eyes appeared from around the corner.
"Evaline!" Mearin shouted, looking at his pupil. Noticing her expressionless gaze and pale face, the senior mage shifted his gaze to Lance.
"What did you do to her?! Answer me immediately!"
Suddenly Lance burst into loud laughter, clutching his stomach.
"Ha, you really are an old idiot," he finally said, gripping the girl by the shoulders.
Siren saw a thin chain of ether moving away from the girl's neck, apparently controlling her.
"It was you who abandoned your team, not me. Your research is more important than your dear pupil? Well, no matter — rest assured, I'll take good care of her instead of you~"
Smiling disgustingly, Lance leaned right into her face, biting her earlobe.
"You bastard!" the enraged Mearin shouted but immediately fell silent, apparently receiving a painful backlash from the clogged channels.
"Quiet, quiet, old man. I don't want you to shut down from shock either~ To be honest, we need you alive," Lance said, looking straight at Mearin.
"Only… I didn't expect this kid to pull you out," his yellow eyes narrowed behind the lenses, scrutinizing Siren.
He didn't move, listening to their conversation. In fact, he understood nothing of what was happening. Everything happening before him went beyond common sense.
"Should I take that as a compliment? By the way, I must say — I never expected to see you again. Alive, no less. Tell me how you did it? I really liked your trick," Siren replied, hiding tension behind a shadow of interest.
Lance only smirked and clenched a thin wand in his hand. Ether in his palm twisted slightly, and the tip confidently aimed directly at Siren. Even with his special vision, he understood — there was no way to dodge a direct hit.
"Very skillful. But your bluff won't work on me. Don't try to fool me, slave. Take the old man — and go," Lance's words sounded with clear contempt and cold mockery.
Siren gritted his teeth, again left with no choice. Getting up, he cautiously lifted the immobilized Mearin onto himself.
It was clear the senior mage wanted to say something, but the overload backlash didn't let him utter a word. Usually, with blocked synchrony channels, ether users risked shock — or even death. But in Mearin's case, everything looked different. He was paralyzed, but Siren clearly saw the dead ether around him breaking down — forcibly venting out as if the mage's body itself rejected it.
"What are you standing for? Move forward!" Lance shouted from behind, still leaning on the girl. Hearing his disgusting voice, Siren momentarily regretted not running away, abandoning Mearin before the explosion.