The infiltration group moved quietly through the meadow. Nothing in sight hinted at a military operation—yet Keill walked forward with confidence.
She didn't quite look like herself, though.
The eccentric woman now bore curved horns, and her skin had taken on the ashen tone of the Depths. Lumos and Farha shared the same look.
Kellta hadn't needed the quick makeup job, but fake horns had been strapped to her head to replace the ones she'd broken off.
All of them wore tight black combat suits—eerily similar to the one the Butcher had worn when torturing Elion. Over them, they sported green jackets and thick black pants.
The real suits were made from the hide of Creatures of the Depths and reinforced with multiple protective layers, but Keill's machine couldn't synthesize those materials.
Not that it mattered. To notice the difference from the ones true Depth Dwellers wore, you'd have to inspect the fabric closely—and know exactly what to look for.
"It's nice to finally wear something halfway acceptable," Lumos mused. "Not that this is the epitome of style, but it's miles better than my last getup."
"Don't worry," Keill smirked. "I'll make you a suit just like last time—if we get out of this alive."
"I wouldn't settle for less," the sorcerer said, then paused, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. "Though I do find it strange you had my measurements from the last loop."
It was the only explanation. The disguise she'd made for Lumos fit far too perfectly to be coincidence—especially compared to Farha and Kellta's outfits, which were fine but noticeably less precise.
Keill's cheeks colored red faintly.
"I… thought I might need them," she admitted.
"For what? We weren't even supposed to remember each other," Lumos teased.
Keill turned sharply, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
"Hey! I'm not the only one. I'm sure you wrote a whole poem about me!"
The sorcerer raised an eyebrow.
"I sure did. And I think it's one of my best works," he said proudly.
Keill stared, caught between outrage and embarrassment, then broke into a soft giggle—the sound lighting something warm in Lumos's chest.
"I see… I don't know if I should be flattered or scared," she said.
"Whichever fits your mood," he shrugged.
Up ahead, the trees thinned. A faint shimmer hung in the air like a mirage. The group pressed forward until the border was within arm's reach.
"Once we're inside, don't say anything. Kellta, you know your part," Keill instructed.
The fire-wielding imp nodded. Lumos's rune—crafted for his short-term girlfriend—also translated the Dwellers of the Depths' language.
"Then let's go," Keill said, stepping aside to let Kellta take point.
The shimmer in the air collapsed, revealing a vast base—a functioning city of towering alloy domes and narrow streets lined with humanoid figures.
There were no turrets and technological marvels to defend the Earth God's secret base. The place was protected entirely by runic enchantments.
Lumos was impressed. The quality and efficiency of the design were remarkable—though how it was powered remained a mystery. As effective as it was, it would still require a considerable supply of souls to maintain, especially the cloaking field.
He was missing something for sure. Even for the Dwellers of the Depths, such a method of powering the enchantments seemed too cruel.
They entered the city with casual confidence, Kellta leading, her expression unreadable but her eyes drinking in every detail. It was clear she was amazed by the place.
Farha kept her head low, her hand twitching as if ready to pull a weapon from the void.
They stopped before a towering alloy structure—one of the weapon caches Keill had mentioned. Farha produced a round device from her ability and pressed it gently against the alloy surface while the others stood guard.
Blue light began to flicker faintly beneath Lumos's jacket, the lines cradling his chest and biceps had taken the tint of the sea when a man approached them.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in the Depths' tongue—the dialect had changed slightly in a thousand years, but it was close enough to Kellta's own to be understood.
"This is none of your business," she replied coldly, staring at the brown-haired imp in front of her.
"You're going to have to come with me," he said firmly. "No one's allowed near the weapon cache."
Kellta flicked a signal behind her back.
In an instant, Lumos lunged, pinning the man to the ground before he could shout. He was strong—strong enough to fight back against a First Finger—but Keill didn't give him the chance, knocking him out with a swift blow.
"Resume operations," she said cheerfully.
They toured the base, following Keill's mapped path and planting explosives. It took an hour—they had to take down a couple of nosy soldiers, but nothing too dangerous.
The group headed out, ready for the next stage of the plan.
***
Meanwhile…
Eshrod waited in position, leading what Keill had dubbed the 'Theater Kids.' She eyed the timer in her hand tensely. Two minutes until they made their move.
"You guys ready?" she asked.
Leonard grinned.
"As ready as we'll ever be," she said, giving a thumbs-up.
Talom nodded while Alphons and Hela tightened their grips on their swords. Hopefully they wouldn't need it, but things rarely went the way they were supposed to.
Alright, Eshrod. You've got this.
She put on a confident face like she always did.
"Alright then—let's give them the show of their lives!"
This whole time loop thing really took a blow at her mental state. She had been a victim of time shenanigans in the past; those were the darkest hours of her life… well, many hours. She wasn't too keen on repeating the same thing.
Eshrod wondered how Elion was doing. The little rascal had taken the full front of what something higher messing with time could do to someone. From experience, it wasn't exactly pleasant.
Even more so, considering his fragile mental state after the Class IV they'd fled from about a week ago.
Even with that fiasco he was the one who took the bigger hit.
Well, more time considering how the loop worked, but to her, it felt like only a week.
Poor guy, if it wasn't so fun teasing him, I might actually shed a tear.
'Psycho cook' did have a nice ring to it, though.
Shaking her head, the Gremlin focused.
They charged into a clearing. Ahead, the air shimmered faintly like a mirage. Eshrod's blackened fingers closed around a small puck-like device. She brought it to her mouth.
"We are the police!" she bellowed into it. "We suspect illegal drug manufacturing in this… totally secret base! Come out with your hands in the air! We have a warrant!"
Keill's idea. Ridiculous, yes—but Eshrod was always game for a little fun.
The device amplified her voice a thousandfold, the deafening roar making Joart's old crew clutch their ears in pain.
She lowered it.
"Alright, any second now…" she said.
"…Any second…" she added, tension building.
Shapes emerged from the shimmer.
Only one.
That's not what she told us…
The figure wore dark armor, shadows clinging to her form, a single horn jutting from her head. Her blade was black as night, her face hidden behind a mask.
The High Lord unsheathed her sword and approached with a calm demeanor.
"Vakren torash kel'dren var talar?" she said in a calm, deadly voice.
Eshrod tilted her head when she felt a wave of murderous intent crash onto her, nearly stopping her heart.
Fuck, we can't beat that!
"Run!" she shouted.
No one hesitated, turning and darting as fast as they could.
Eshrod suddenly felt a cold draft of air, sweat ran down her spine as death approached. The High Lord was still far away, but she could feel it.
After being in as many life-or-death situations as she had, she developed a sort of sixth sense for danger.
And now, she was about to die.
The Gremlin ducked as Leonard spun and hurled a bolt of lightning—something Zeus himself might envy—trying to intercept the assassin. She easily dodged it, but it forced her strike to miss Eshrod by a hair's breadth.
Is this what Elion's been fighting?!
The Gremlin barely had time to draw her blade before the onyx sword struck it, hurling her backwards. Farha's loaned weapon held, but only barely—it wouldn't survive a direct assault.
Eshrod cursed silently.
"Guys… now would be a good time…" she muttered, hoping for Keill's group to be done soon.
But nothing happened.
The next strike came for her neck—but Talom was there, his skin hardening like stone. The High Lord could easily cut stone though…
Ironman was slashed along the chest, leaving a deep wound on his hardened skin. The wound was not fatal, his ability was quite a potent one after all, but he would need immediate treatment.
Using the precious seconds Talom had brought her, Eshrod stood and took her stand.
"Thanks, big guy," she said as he fell.
Truthfully, she did not see any way to win against that monster. Even buying enough time for the others to finish their plan was far-fetched. The only way she saw was waiting for a miracle—and Eshrod was usually the one making those happen.
"Buy me three seconds!" she barked.
Leonard unleashed another lightning bolt, while Alphons charged with a crimson hue enveloping his sword. Hela dragged Talom clear.
She didn't have a combat-oriented ability and would only get in the way if she tried to fight.
Eshrod shut her only good eye and reached for the thread in her mind—the link Unlocked used to tap into their abilities.
The rough, mocking voice greeted, tainting her very thoughts.
"Back again, huh? What will you feed me this time?" it said. "Your eye was delicious, by the way, I thank you for that."
Yeah, yeah—shut up. I'm in a hurry.
"I can see that."
Take my left ear.
"Cheaper this time, aren't you? Not sure I can do much with that."
Eshrod gritted her teeth, seeing Leonard throw herself at the High Lord, a bloody scar running across her face.
My left pinky and ring finger too.
"…Alright. Just because you asked nicely."
Quick—give me your blessing, or whatever passes for it.
The echoes of fading laughter in her head disappeared as pain bloomed in her left hand and the side of her head.
Shit!
Skin, nerves, flesh, and bone dissolved into nothingness.
But then, something burned in her heart, roaring like a flame of darkness. Sinister energy permeated her whole being. Shadows thickened around her arms, the onyx scales completely devouring the light. The black in her dirty-blonde hair spread like ink.
Eshrod felt her legs becoming lighter, the muscles brimming with energy.
A shaky grin spread on her face.
Better…
Ahead, Alphons had lost his sword arm and was about to be beheaded while Leonard desperately tried to stop the High Lord from performing her gruesome execution.
Eshrod dashed, the reflection in her sword emanating dark shadows. She blocked the strike aimed at the young Unlocked's neck.
Something behind her eye grinned—something that wasn't her…