Mitch sat down heavily on the cold stone floor, his body trembling with exhaustion. Sweat dripped from his brow and mixed with the grime streaking his face. His arms and knuckles were raw and swollen from hours of smashing the pods apart, and his breath came in labored gasps.

  The cavern that had housed the Farm was now filled with the faint crackle of fire and the moans of the freed prisoners who lay huddled together.

  It’s finally done. That was a lot of pods.

  Many of the released captives clutched the jars containing their souls like lifelines. The tendrils that connected their souls to their bodies pulsed faintly. Some dimmer than others. None of the jars had broken, even when dropped. He could only wonder how they were supposed to get the souls back into the bodies where they belonged.

  Agony’s Embrace felt raw from the constant healing he had to apply to himself to keep smashing the pods. He had burned through more flesh than he wanted to admit in his efforts. Throughout the entire process, he refused to use any more souls to free the prisoners. He’d also siphoned flesh from the dead when he thought no one was looking.

  Settlement Amount: 257 Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 79(-130) Flesh.

  Varak scuttled about with her brood and the other minions. Her children scrambled over the freed prisoners, bringing them scraps of found cloth and bits of food. A low fire burned nearby, roasting the chickens Varak and the minions had salvaged from the Warden’s hidden stash they had found in a box.

  The monster mother darted between the hundreds of wounded, her clawed hands glowing faintly as she patched torn flesh when allowed by the prisoners. As it turned out, Varak—an Abyssal Monster no less, and bound to Mitch—had an extremely rare flesh healing ability. It only sealed wounds, but it helped the freed Pod prisoners tremendously.

  “Bad...broken meat. But...I fix. Fixable! Varak fix.” Varak argued with a freed elf who refused her services.

  The prisoner, stronger than most, flinched away from the undercooked morsel of meat Varak’s children held out. “What—what are you?! A creature of the dark! Get away from me! Before I kill you!” the man yelled, his voice hoarse with fear.

  Varak tilted her head, her many eyes blinking in unison. “Friend. Friend Mitch,” she pointed a clawed hand at Mitch’s seated form. “Healer! Not...bite! Only seal. Seal good. Seal tight! Make fresh meat.” she clicked reassuringly, her brood chirping in agreement.

  But the elf backed away, clutching his jar tighter. “You think I’ll let you touch me?” he spat. “You’re Abyssal filth.” Varak hesitated, her glowing claws dimming. She blinked all of her eyes twice, clicking her mandibles in a slow, deliberate rhythm before withdrawing.

  Her brood chirped mournfully as they scuttled back to her side. “Fix meat...no. No fix,” she muttered softly, her gaze lowering.

  Mitch caught her expression and felt a pang of frustration. Not at her, but the prisoners. She was trying. Trying harder than most people he’d met.

  People.

  The elf backed away, clutching his jar tighter. Mitch sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. He could feel the growing tension in the air–the whisper and glares at Varak, her brood, and the other minions that tried to help.

  The freed prisoners were traumatized and angry. That meant they needed someone to blame. And it wasn’t long before the injured prisoner’s emotions boiled over.

  “Don’t let them near me!” a woman hissed, clutching her soul jar like her wallet. Her knuckles whitened around it as one of Varak’s brood approached, chirping softly with a piece of chicken.

  “Get away from me, you monster!” a man shouted, hurling a rock at the Abyssal child. The small creature dodged, skittering back towards its mother with a frightened yelp. The man scrambled to his feet, jar clutched tightly under one arm. “Kill it! Kill the Abyssal monster!”

  “And what about him? With the bugs! And the Shadowshroud!” a woman’s voice rose from the crowd, suspicious as she pointed at Mitch’s form. “He’s got their magic! He’s one of them, isn’t he? Abyssal filth masquerading as a savior! With a Scrapling no less!”

  Murmurs rippled through the group, uneasy whispers spreading. “Yeah, he used some Abyssal power to break those pods. It’s not right, I tell ya, unnatural,” another prisoner muttered. “What if he turns on us next? What if this is all just another trap?”

  There was no point in defending himself. No explanation would satisfy them. They were tired, hurt, and angry.

  Before Mitch could react, Sable’s voice rang out. “ENOUGH!” She stormed toward the man, eyes blazing with fury.

  The man flinched back from her but didn’t back down. “They’re monsters! Abyssal monsters! Kill them! Or I will!”

  Much of the watching crowd roared their approval.

  Sable didn’t stop until she was right in front of him. Her wires unfurled slightly in her palm. “You don’t have to like them,” she said, voice full of menace. “But these specific monsters are part of the reason you’re not still dying and being cut in one of those pods.”

  She jabbed a finger toward Mitch, who watched her anger with raised eyebrows. “You see him? He freed you. Beat the people that were keeping you here, in those fucking pods,” she pointed at Varak and the other minions. “THEY helped him. So if you even think about taking a swing at these monsters, you’ll answer to him. And I promise you,” she paused to look around the watching crowd, “he won’t be as nice as I am.”

  She scanned the crowd, her wired retracting. “That goes for all of you. These creatures are off-limits. You don’t have to trust them, but they helped save your asses. Show some fucking gratitude.”

  Mitch gave Sable a nod of approval, but she didn’t look back at him. Instead, she crouched beside one of Varak’s children and checked it for injuries.

  The prisoners exchanged uneasy looks. Their anger and fear was held in check by exhaustion. Sable’s words had doused the flames, but embers of doubt smoldered.

  He met their stares briefly before turning away. He didn’t have the energy to argue with them, nor the desire.

  Most of the prisoners held onto their jars tightly, their withered hands trembling. He didn’t know if they could survive long without their souls restored, but his gut told him the Warden would know.

  One step at a time, Mitch. You’ll figure it out.

  Hathgar lay on the floor near Mitch, tearing into a roasted chicken leg with gusto. He watched Varak as she worked, his approval clear but begrudgingly given. Hathgar had been the first to be healed by Varak after a heated persuasion from Mitch. The dwarf’s wounds had been sealed to scars, but he remained brutally thin and ragged.

  “Ye’ve saved them, lad. They might hate ya for it, for what…Skills I heard ya got, but that’s the way of it. But…an Abyssal creature playing nursemaid? Never thought I’d see the day,” Hathgar grumbled amusedly.

  Mitch watched Varak, who hummed a strange tune as she watched Sable stitch together a prisoner’s wound. “Hathgar, for fuck’s sake, take a look at what she’s doing. We need her, alright? Hell, we need every damn hand we can get.” he replied dryly.

  Hathgar’s sharp eyes flicked to Mitch’s sweating body. “You look like you’ve been punching stone walls for hours, and need a damned ale. Stars, what I would do with an ale right now. It wouldn’t be natural,” he said, his voice lighter than his expression. “Never thought I’d see you that stubborn over anything.”

  Mitch smirked faintly but didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at the jar pulsing faintly beside Hathgar. Its tendrils were weak but holding.

  Hathgar caught the glance, narrowing his eyes. “You’ll tell me what’s really going on, aye Mitch?” he asked, quieter this time.

  Mitch sighed. “Yes–just not now. We’ve got much bigger problems. Like how to get the hell out of here..get them out of here.”

  Hathgar snorted, tearing off another bite. “Whatever it is, Mitch, I’ve got ya. Bloody came down here and got my dwarven ass, didn’t ya? Aye, ya can damn well count on that. Just never thought I’d see the day I’d like an Abyssal critter. Feels like madness.”

  Galadrith’s voice hummed in Mitch’s mind. “You are breaking the chains of this place, Mitchell. Rest but a moment. Then continue. The job is not done.”

  Mitch exhaled slowly as Hathgar’s words settled between them. The dwarf stared at Mitch with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably.

  “Seriously, lad. Thank ye,” Hathgar said finally, his voice soft. “I don’t say that lightly. Ya saved my hide, and now I’ve got yours. Didn’t have ta—not down here, not through...this.” He gestured at the cavern around them.

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  “You’re my friend, Hathgar, even if you don’t like Rex,” Mitch replied with a faint grin. “Besides, you called us brothers in that dwarven bar—kind of had to save you after that..”

  Hathgar’s deep, low chuckle rumbled out, broken but warm. “Aye, brother,” he said, the word carrying weight. “Fair enough, though I reckon your mutt helped a bit.”

  As if summoned by the mention, Rex prowled into view. In his depleted form, the Shadowshroud dragged a body across the chamber. The tendrils connecting him to Mitch stretched thin and he could feel Rex’s weakness. His jagged teeth tore into the flesh, the sound of ripping echoing in the empty space. Rex would have to feast a lot to fully heal himself.

  Compared to all other Abyssal creatures, Shadowshrouds were well known for their fierce loyalty to their bonded wearer. Rex has skirted by most of the hate Varak and the other abyssal creatures received.

  Mitch’s grin faded, replaced by a weary expression as he watched Rex consume the fallen. The sight of the lifeless body–one of the prisoners he hadn’t been able to save–brought a wave of guilt. He had been too slow. Whether in escaping the Pit, or cracking their pod. It didn’t matter.

  Their soul had already been gone when he and Sable had arrived. Like countless others they had stacked into a pile off to the side.

  Hathgar followed Mitch’s gaze, his sharp eyes narrowing as he watched Rex work. The dwarf gnawed at the bones of his chicken leg, his expression somewhere between grim acceptance and dry amusement.

  “Twisted sense of dinner, though,” Hathgar muttered, shaking his head. “Suppose he protected ya right. Shadowshrouds are strong if fed. Same as that ghastly sword ya nicked off me and my clan,” Hathgar added to lighten the mood.

  “Nicked? What did he say? Mitchell, did you steal my vessel prior to my inhabitation? The small man is joking, yes?” Galadrith sounded aghast.

  Mitch didn’t respond to Hathgar’s comment or Galadrith. Instead, he picked up an empty jar lying nearby. One of the fallen’s jars. The weight of it felt wrong–far too heavy than what it should be.

  “Where do the souls go?” Mitch asked. “The ones that are…gone.”

  Hathgar paused, the usual joking tone replaced by a rare note of uncertainty. “Never thought I’d love to see souls in jars, lad. There are legends…but they all go to the same place.”

  Galadrith’s voice filled Mitch’s mind, steady and deliberate. “They go to the bottom. To the Abyss’s maw. For whatever the Abyss decides. Until they are extinguished.”

  The words sent a shiver down Mitch’s spine. He stared into the jar’s emptiness.

  The bottom. The Abyss’s maw, Mitch thought. It felt like a condemnation.

  “They deserve better than that…” Mitch murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

  Hathgar grunted, his voice rough with a strange kind of comfort. “Aye. They do. There are tales, ya know. Of a time when the Abyss weren’t here. Old tales, that. But ain’t no one can beat the Abyss. If that Masked Lord couldn’t... Bah, best to live your life as far away from the Abyss as possible. Long as ya can.” Hathgar waved his hand as he tossed the bone to Rex, who crunched on it in a single snap.

  Mitch set the jar down, its clunk against the stone barely audible over the fire. He watched Rex, who continued his grim feast with slow, deliberate bites.

  There will be answers–the Warden can give them.

  Hathgar rubbed his wild beard, and gestured with his chin. “How is it then, lad? The sword. Looks like it’s gotten some use. It really is something else, isn’t it?”

  Mitch ran a hand over Galadrith’s hilt. The sword glowed red and filled the space around him with a potent presence.

  “Something else, indeed. I am Galadrith, a magnificent specimen of unrivaled craftsmanship and formidable mastery. A blade so perfect that all should bow before my glory! Laud me across the world–nay, the realms.” Galadrith monologued to Mitch alone. Only the holder of a soul sword would hear the inhabitant, Mitch had learned.

  You’re lucky only I can hear you, man. Another soliloquy? Really? Mitch thought back.

  Mitch smiled faintly at Hathgar, shaking his head. “Incredible. Chatty,” he admitted. “His name is Galadrith. He’s insanely strong. I never thought it would be like this. Still getting used to it, honestly. Carrying such a strong weapon,”

  “Used to perfection? Impossible. I have much to teach, but that is outside the realm of possibility.” Galadrith interjected Mitch’s thoughts.

  Before Mitch or Hathgar could speak again, Sable appeared at their side. Her posture was tense. She glanced toward the Warden, who lay to the side, still gagged and bound beneath a swarm of bugs.

  “It’s time to get some answers from him,” she said, her voice sharp. Her different colored eyes burned with determination. She had been patient, moving among the freed prisoners, stitching wounds and offering support.

  Her focus had shifted. There was information she wanted uncovered. Mitch could feel her impatience through their Abyssal Bind.

  Mitch got to his feet, and Varak scuttled over with her brood trailing behind her. Over her shoulder, she gestured with three of her clawed hands toward a small group of Abyssal monster prisoners who she had freed from cells. She had deemed them loyal to Mitch, and now they followed her without Abyssal Bind applied to them.

  “For…Master,” Varak began, her voice clicking. “More creature.” She tilted her head as if awaiting approval, but Mitch sent a mental command before she could continue.

  Not now. Later. Please. You are doing a good job. We just need to do that…not here. Mitch’s eyes scanned around the freed people and then the monsters that awaited their binding.

  Varak hesitated, one eye swiveling toward Hathgar as the dwarf watched her. She gave the dwarf a faint nod, muttering under her breath. “Not now. Later. More…chicken, hmmm.” her brood cheered at the mention of more food.

  Mitch crouched down next to Varak as her brood scuttled around her. Her many eyes turned to him, mandibles clicking with what Mitch now recognized as nervousness. She had the glares, the whispers, rocks. It was hard to miss.

  “Master?” she asked quietly.

  Mitch reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder. The texture of her exoskeleton was rough and alien, but he didn’t pull away. “Varak,” he said firmly. “Listen to me. When we’re gone questioning the Warden, keep your distance. If any of them try something, don’t fight. Run. Hide if you have to. Take the brood and the others with you.”

  Her mandibles paused, her many eyes blinking in unison. “Run...hide…?” she repeated slowly, as though testing the words. Her brood let out soft chirps of protest, the sound echoing faintly in the cavern.

  He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’re too important to lose. Do you understand? This isn’t retreating. It’s surviving. For me. For them,” he gestured at her children and the other minions.

  Varak hesitated, her mandibles clicking faintly. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, “But…Varak not leave Mitch. Varak stay.”

  A pang struck Mitch’s chest. Her loyalty was unwavering, he could feel as much through their bond. “You’re not leaving me,” he assured her, his tone softening. “You’re keeping yourself and the brood safe. And the other Abyssals. For me. That’s an order.”

  She paused, then gave a small, reluctant nod. “For…Master,” she murmured, her voice tinged with determination. “Varak…obey. Run, hide, keep brood…and other creatures safe…for Mitch.”

  Mitch exhaled, relieved but not fully at ease. He straightened and looked around the dim cavern. The freed prisoners huddled in clusters, their gazes full of suspicion. He needed someone, or something, he could count on while he wasn’t here.

  Rex, listen up.

  The Shadowshroud acknowledged his words through their bond while he continued to tear into his meal from his shadowed corner.

  Keep watch while I’m gone, Mitch commanded. If anything happens–if anyone attacks Varak or the others–I want to know immediately. Alert me. Do not hurt anyone unless you have no choice.

  Rex let out a low snarl, a flick of understanding passing through Mitch. The Shadowshroud would obey.

  “Good, I’m counting on you, Rex.” Mitch said aloud.

  He turned back to Varak. “Rex will let me know if anything happens. You’re not alone. Just focus on keeping everyone safe.”

  Varak’s mandibles clicked in what Mitch could only interpret as agreement. “Master…smart. Shadow-dog…strong. All stay. Watch. Cook chicken,...maybe bug.” she said with a faint chirp of determination.

  Mitch straightened, and gave her one last look before turning back toward the Warden.

  “Can we question this fuck already?” Sable said sharply.

  With Rex watching over Varak and the brood, Mitch turned his focus to the next challenge—the Warden. Answers waited, and Mitch was done wasting time.

  He and Sable approached the Warden, leaving Hathgar to rest. The man lay alarmingly still as he was still bound by Sable’s wires. Bugs under Varak’s command crawled all over him, their legs holding him as they guarded like loyal sentinels.

  The Warden’s head snapped up as Mitch neared. His eyes were bloodshot and wild. His muffled grumble turned into a growl against the gag they had applied.

  Mitch felt something draw his attention. A pulse of energy from the back of the Farm. The key he wore from Mathilda dragged him further into the Warden’s Farm, but there was something else there as well.

  He ignored it for now. His attention was on the man before him.

  “Time to talk, Warden,” Mitch said with cold austerity.

  The gagged man grumbled again, his glare sharp as the bugs shifted around him. Their mandibles clicked in warning.

  Mitch crouched down to meet the Warden’s gaze. The faint flicker of power from the farthest recesses of the cavern was distracting, but he needed to focus. Whatever it was, it could wait for now.

  Focus, Mitch, damnit.

  Pushing, Mitch sent his distracted thoughts into Devoid. Like a locked box, his attention singled in on the Warden and Sable’s presence. Right now, he needed answers. And the Warden would give those answers. He would deal with the tugging sensation and Mathilda’s key afterwards. What he was willing to do to the Warden for those answers didn’t bother him. The man was a monster.

  Much better. You better not be leading me into a trap, Mathilda.

  He set down the empty jar next to the Warden’s head. It clinked sharply onto the ground. The soul that had inhabited it was gone. Wander would answer for that. After Mitch got what he wanted.

  Sable too.

  “And I’d suggest you start with the truth. For your own sake.”

  Mitch scooped the Warden’s dense body up, sending the Bugs scattering along the floor that had covered him.

  He began walking back towards the prison where the monsters were held.

  Rex, don’t forget. Watch.

  Rex’s low snarl echoed in Mitch’s mind, the bond laced with understanding. He would watch.