Zoe hovered fifty feet above the battlefield, trying to catch her breath. Her whole body hurt. The fractured clavicle sent shooting pains through her shoulder with every movement. The concussion made the world tilt sickeningly at random intervals. And her Air Aetheric Energy was down to 22%.

  Not good. Really not good.

  She watched the Chimeric Menagerie crash into Sasha, watched Pablo get thrown back by that scorpion tail. Eden was burning through her own reserves at what had to be an unsustainable rate. They were paying for every percentage point of the creature's Health bar they battered away.

  We need to end this fast.

  Zoe gathered what power she could and dove, wind shrieking around her. As she closed the distance, she reached out with her power to try a Suffocating Bubble around the beast's head. The bubble formed in the air, but the bubble slid off like water off a duck. Some kind of innate resistance.

  Damn it!

  Zoe banked hard as the scorpion tail lashed at her. She wasn't fast enough. The stinger's edge caught her left leg, tearing through her jeans and drawing a line of fire across her calf.

  "Zoe!" Eden's voice crackled over the comm. "Your health—"

  "I’ll live! Focus on Sasha!" Zoe climbed higher, out of the tail's range. Her Health bar showed 51% now, but was continuing to tick down every couple of seconds. The wound wasn't deep, but it burned like acid. An unpleasant accompaniment to her other slowly mending injuries.

  She orbited, looking for an opening. A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision caught Zoe’s attention. She spun in mid-flight just as the air rippled and The Vivisectionist melted fully into visibility. The dungeon boss had bypassed the entire battle and was standing at the entrance to their fortress. Right where Rowan, Sam, and the rescued prisoners were sheltering.

  "Guys! The boss is going after the civies!"

  “Go!” Pablo shouted, even as Zoe was already accelerating toward the fortress.

  The Vivisectionist moved with a skittering, smooth gate that made his body seem almost motionless but propelled rapidly through the archway. Zoe was only a second behind him, but as she skimmed low over the crenelated wall, she saw that the situation had already gone to hell. Improvised spear in splinters, Rowan was crashing to the ground on his back.

  The Vivisectionist had the long fingers of one hand wrapped entirely around Sam’s throat and was lifting him off the ground Vader-style. His other arm was stretched out straight in Rowan’s direction, the hand shaped like a fist-sized sphere.

  Zoe had only met Sam a time or two, in passing. With his stocky frame, tanned complexion, brown eyes, and auburn hair, she hadn’t really thought he looked much like Mark. Yet in that moment of peril, all her eyes could see was Mark dangling in the dungeon boss’ grasp. Her heart ached at the imagined tableau, and she had to blink rapidly to banish the image of the boy with unruly ginger curls that her wounded psyche had superimposed over Sam.

  Tilting his head to the side, the boss examined Sam clinically, its black eyes showing no more emotion than a scientist examining bacteria through a microscope. Flowing like liquid metal, the sphere at the end of the boss’ outstretched arm transformed back into a spindly-fingered hand. When it spoke, its voice was perfectly calm, like it was dictating notes.

  "Analysis: Subject recently exposed to unknown extra-dimensional energy, approaching complete saturation. Detecting cellular and genetic flux. Tremendous transformation potential..." The creature trailed off as one of its fingers shifted into a syringe with a hair thin needle. "Curious. Further examination is desired."

  "No!" Zoe screamed. "Let him go!"

  Already diving toward the pair, but still too far away to use Gale, Zoe began gathering wind to try and knock the pair apart or at least distract the dungeon boss for a second longer. The Vivisectionist gestured almost casually toward her, and a cloud of surgical implements—scalpels, forceps, bone saws—appeared out of thin air all spinning through the air at her like thrown knives.

  Zoe banked hard, twisted, tried to dodge, but there were too many. A scalpel plunged into her right shoulder. Another grazed her thigh. A bone saw nicked her arm. Nothing immediately life-threatening, but each impact made her control waver and her flight path wobble. Zoe still sent a howling blast of wind toward the pair, but it only managed to send The Vivisectionist’s white coat flapping.

  The Roswellian monster didn't even look at her. The needle plunged into Sam's neck, and the man's eyes went wide. His struggles weakened, then ceased altogether. His body went limp in the alien's grasp. By the time she cleared the cloud of razor-sharp medical instruments, The Vivisectionist and Sam were both rippling out of sight.

  "Sam!" Back on his feet, Rowan lunged, but he was too slow.

  No. No, no, no! Zoe skidded to a landing on the courtyard ground, ignoring the pain as her injured leg almost gave out. She had to use a thin blast of wind from her open palm to keep herself from toppling over. Gripping Gale tight, Zoe focused on her Air Sense, pushing the power to its absolute limit.

  Please. Please let me feel them.

  Zoe held her breath as she rapidly sorted through the chaotic jumble of bodies all around her in the crowded courtyard.

  There!

  At the very edge of her awareness—a disturbance in the air, moving fast away from them. But she could track it for the moment. Barely. The Vivisectionist was headed toward the largest structure in the ruined village—probably his lair. Sam's unconscious body with him was being dragged along with the alien.

  “Not today. Not again,” Zoe growled as she pushed off the ground and flew after them, her vision blurring with pain and exhaustion. Her Air Aetheric Energy dropped below ten percent. Warning indicators flashed in her HUD. She didn't care.

  Behind her, she could hear the sounds of combat continuing—Pablo and Sasha still fighting the Menagerie, Eden trying to keep everyone alive. However, Zoe's entire focus had narrowed to that invisible disturbance in the air ahead of her, that barely-perceptible ripple that marked The Vivisectionist's passage.

  Hold on, Sam, she thought, teeth gritted against the pain as she pushed herself faster. I'm coming.

  ***

  Rowan rushed down the entrance ramp of the fortress as Zoe's white and silver form streaked away in pursuit. Beyond the walls of the mini-fortress Pablo, Sasha, and Eden were still locked in combat with the Chimeric Menagerie. The creature's bat-wings beat the air, dust and debris swirling as it prepared to launch back into the air.

  Sam needs help. They need help. Do something!

  Without his makeshift spear, Rowan felt briefly exposed and useless, until he remembered the other abilities he had unlocked. This was going to take some getting used to. Rowan barely understood his new powers but could feel thrumming just beneath his skin. He reached out with his Flora Control, searching for anything that could help.

  The jungle responded immediately to his call. A vine, as thick as his thigh, hung from one of the oversized ferns at the edge of the clearing. Rowan commanded it to move, and it obeyed with startling eagerness. The vine lashed out across the battlefield, serpentine and fast, wrapping around the Chimeric Menagerie's scorpion tail just as the appendage drew back for another strike at Pablo. The creature bleated in surprise and fury, yanking against the restraint. The vine held for three precious seconds—long enough.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Pablo seized the opening and lunged, a spear in his hands, driving the weapon deep into the monster's side. The shining blade punched through fur and muscle, so deep that its leaf-shaped point erupted out the other side of the creature's torso.

  Didn’t he have a sword before? Rowan wondered distantly.

  Pablo's face contorted with effort, visible even from a dozen yards away. With a pulse of power that Rowan somehow felt in his bones—a resonance like striking tuning fork—steel spikes erupted all over the Menagerie's body. Dozens of chrome points burst through fur and flesh and chitin, transforming the creature into a grotesque pincushion.

  The Chimeric Menagerie made a sound—part bleat, part roar, part shriek—that cut off with horrifying, gurgling abruptness. The creature slumped forward, its massive weight shaking the ground.

  Sasha stepped forward, warhammer raised high, and brought the hammer down on the beast's goat-like skull with brutal finality. Bone crumpled and the skull flattened. Black blood sprayed across the packed earth and splattered Sasha’s legs.

  For a heartbeat, nobody moved. Then glowing motes of energy—tiny lights in every color imaginable—drifted up from the Menagerie's corpse like released fireflies. They spiraled through the air and zipped into the each of them, Pablo, Sasha, Eden, and disconcertingly, into Rowan himself.

  The sensation was indescribable. Power flowing into him like water filling an empty vessel. A notification screen flickered into view unbidden reporting the Aetheric Energy and Nexus Power Points—## and ## respectively—he’d just received. Then it vanished again. Rowan forced himself to shove aside his confused questions to deliver the dire message he’d rushed beyond the walls to bring.

  "That gray alien looking monster snatched Sam! Zoe went after them!" Rowan shouted to the winded and injured Paladins, his voice cracking with urgency. He pointed toward the largest structure in the ruined encampment where Zoe could be seen landing at the entrance.

  "Of fucking course something else went wrong," Sasha panted, breathing hard and dripping with sweat and blood.

  "Let's move." Pablo ripped his spear free of the Menagerie's corpse with a wet schlick. As he brought the weapon around, metal rippled and flowed like mercury, the spear melting back into the shape of his longsword in seconds. "Armor's still recharging. Don't summon it until absolutely necessary."

  The team turned to follow Zoe, but Rowan's shout stopped them.

  "Wait!" He lurched forward, to join them. "I'm coming too. I want to help."

  "It's too dangerous." Eden’s armor vanished in a flash of blue light, revealing her exhausted face beneath. With all three Paladins now unarmored and in their street clothes, they looked far too human and fragile to be facing down alien monsters. "You're still just figuring out what's going on."

  "She's right," Pablo said, not unkindly but tone almost robotic. "Stay here and protect those people in the fort. That's important work too."

  "No offense, I know you guys are like superheroes or whatever, but fuck that." The words burst out of Rowan before he could second-guess them. "Sam's my friend. I'm going either with you or on my own."

  The Paladins exchanged glances. Eden was the first to relent, her grim expression shifting from Rowan to Pablo. "Better he's with us and we're all working together. We can't spare anyone to babysit him here."

  "Fine," Pablo said after a moment, his expression calculating. "But you keep up. We don't slow down for anyone."

  Pablo turned and took off at a sprint that looked effortless despite everything they'd just been through. The enhanced physiology the Nexus granted, Rowan was learning, was no joke. Sasha followed close behind despite her injuries. Eden brought up the rear, glancing back once to make sure Rowan was following.

  Rowan ran after them, his newly enhanced body responding better than it ever had before. His Stamina boost kept his breathing steady. His Might enhancement let him just barely keep pace. What would have been an exhausting sprint just hours ago felt merely challenging now.

  As they crossed the shattered remains of the encampment, Rowan got his first real look at what the battle had wrought. The crude huts and cages he'd been thrown in were demolished—crushed by massive bodies, torn apart by claws and hammers and blades. The surgical table where the goats had mutated their victims lay in splinters. Bodies of monsters littered the ground, gruesomely mutilated by the level of violence required to slay them.

  The encampment was also far larger than Rowan had first realized from within that cage. What he'd thought was just a clearing revealed itself as an entire village complex. Multiple structures. Dozens of cages. Work areas. Living spaces. This hadn't been a temporary camp—it was a settlement.

  "Delta keeps saying we're supposed to have a sixth member of the team," Eden began as they ran, her voice pitched to carry over the sound of their footfalls. "Pabs, maybe we should give him the—"

  "Absolutely not," Pablo cut her off.

  "Pabs, maybe she's—" Sasha tried.

  "Taking the Oath is life-altering," Pablo said firmly, not breaking stride or even breathing hard. "It will also inextricably link us all together. We can't just—"

  "Are you saying you don't trust him?" Eden asked.

  "Wait, are you guys talking about me?" Rowan gasped out.

  "Eden's suggesting that you take the Oath to become a Paladin of Power like us," Sasha explained over her shoulder.

  "I'm—"

  "It's nothing personal, Rowan," Pablo interrupted, still focused on the path ahead. "It’s just, you're someone we used to know in high school, and you've only worked with Eden for a few months. But that's only part of the point. We were forced by circumstances to jump in blind in order to stay alive. I'm not saying never. I'm saying not right this instant. Not if we can help it. As Paladins, we're supposed to protect people. After we get out of this, we can discuss it as a team, then give you all the facts and a chance we were denied to make an informed choice."

  Eden opened her mouth as if to pursue the matter further, but Rowan—being the subject of the debate—felt compelled to jump in.

  "Look, I'm with Pablo on this." The words came easier than expected. "My entire world's been turned upside-down already tonight—or today. If I don't need to take on any more crazy right now, that's fine by me. Let's just focus on getting Sam back."

  As Rowan finished, they'd caught up to Zoe, who had pushed into the large structure only to find it apparently empty. With frantic urgency, the petite blonde woman was tearing the place apart—overturning wicker furniture, ripping down animal hide tapestries, checking every corner with growing desperation. The room was furnished entirely in what Rowan could only describe as post-apocalyptic cannibal chic: furniture woven from what looked like giant, dried reeds, bones used as structural supports, hides tanned and stretched as decorations.

  Near the center of the room, directly in line with the entrance was what Rowan could only describe as a throne. A high-backed chair, bigger and more intricate than anything else in the space. It was constructed entirely of woven dried reeds with lots of bones for ornamentation and sat in an undoubtedly prominent position.

  "Where the hell did they go?" Zoe seethed, her hands trembling. "I know that bastard came in here. I felt him right up until he went through the door!"

  "Everyone start to—Wait, there's something..." Pablo trailed off and his eyes lost focus. After a moment, Pablo moved forward with purpose, his gaze fixed on the throne. With a powerful stomp kick, he toppled the wicker and bone seat to send it crashing onto its back. "...that doesn’t belong here."

  Beneath the throne was a circular metal hatch, its surface etched with a spiral pattern. It looked entirely out of place given the primitive aesthetic of everything else—clean edges, precise engineering, high-tech construction amid the cannibal Gilligan's Island vibe.

  Pablo held out his hand toward the hatch. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then there was an audible whirr of resisting motors as the spiral pattern on the door began to slowly iris open. Pablo's face contorted with effort as the mechanism ground to a halt less than half open. Then the spiral began to twist the opposite direction, closing itself. With a grunt, Pablo clenched his hand into a fist and yanked backward.

  Metal screamed in protest. The entire hatch—frame and all—ripped free from whatever structure it was attached to in the ground and shot upward. It punched through the thatched roof, disappearing beyond only to audibly crash somewhere in the distance a moment later. Beyond the ruined hatchway was a ladder descending through a smooth circular shaft. The white walls of the tunnel gleamed like plastic as unmistakably artificial light snapped to life, filling the tunnel.

  Rowan felt a sudden thrill of mingled excitement and dread. Is this the sort of thing becoming a Paladin could mean? Not just the power, but the casual use of it? Pablo had just ripped a metal hatch out of the ground and thrown it through a roof like it weighed nothing. Did I really just turn that down?

  But how could he possibly be ready to handle that responsibility? He'd only had these powers for a few hours. He barely understood what they did. The idea of committing to something permanent, something that "inextricably linked" him to these people...

  One problem at a time. Sam first.

  As the group began descending—Pablo first, then Sasha, then Eden—Rowan's eyes caught on a weapon rack near the door. Most of the weapons were crude clubs and stone hatchets, clearly scavenged or improvised. But one stood out: a proper spear with a metal point and a wooden haft that seemed to pulse with silent power in his mind.

  Rowan snatched it up. The moment his fingers closed around the wood, his Flora Control sang. The haft wasn't dead wood—it was still somehow alive, or close enough. He could feel it, like an extension of his own arm. The weapon thrummed with potential in his grip.

  Okay. Maybe I'm not completely useless after all.

  He descended into the tunnel after the others, the artificial light casting harsh shadows. Behind them, the jungle sounds faded. Ahead, somewhere in the depths of this alien structure, Sam was screaming.