"Fuck, Lucius, I thought yours was supposed to be straightforward," Cole said, his voice a ragged gasp.

  He was slumped in the co-pilot seat of the "Shadowflame," every muscle in his body screaming in protest.

  Lucius’s left arm hung useless at his side, the chrome corroded and flaking from where the black lightning had struck. "Talking to a heavily wounded war hero like that? Have some respect."

  "War hero? You tried to ride lightning straight into its mouth."

  "It was a classic vector approach."

  "You missed and hit the swamp face-first."

  "Reconnaissance by impact. Learned the ground was solid."

  Cole gestured to the pulsing Wyrm core filling the cabin with crackling energy. "Just absorb the damn thing already. Your arm looks like it went through a blender made of rust."

  "This doesn't repair emotional damage," Lucius protested, wincing as he shifted. "Did you see that thing's attack? Fire that freezes? Ice that burns? My brain is still trying to process how that works. I think I have philosophical trauma."

  "'Philosophical trauma' isn't a real thing."

  "It is now. I'm pioneering it. Along with 'temporal whiplash' from aging fifty years in two seconds."

  "Your hair did go gray for a moment there."

  "Distinguished gray or elderly gray?"

  "Corpse gray."

  Lucius ran his good hand through his hair, and a small shower of ash fell out. He stared at it on his palm. "Huh. That's still happening."

  "You should probably stop touching it."

  They traded a look. The absolute absurdity of the situation hanging in the air. They were a few weeks into a journey that had already cost them a fortune in gear and nearly their lives, and there was still another monster to go.

  The tension snapped. They both started laughing. It was a wet, ugly sound, born of pain and the chemical high of cheating the reaper. Cole reached across the console. He gripped Lucius’s uninjured shoulder.

  "You know," Lucius said, "for someone who barely knows me, you're pretty good at keeping me alive."

  "Someone has to. You're clearly not qualified for the job."

  "I'm extremely qualified. I'm just selective about when I apply my survival skills."

  "Selective. Right… Is that what we're calling that kamikaze charge?"

  "That was art."

  "That was suicide with extra steps."

  In the cockpit, Lia watched the interaction on her monitor, a small smile on her face.

  "Are they... becoming friends?" Lia asked, slightly incredulous.

  Senna glanced up. "Looks like it. Shared trauma does that apparently. Though I'm not sure 'friends' is the right word when one of them keeps trying to get the other killed through sheer recklessness."

  "Which one?"

  "Yes."

  "Should we be concerned?"

  "Probably. Cole's tactical precision plus Lucius's unpredictability?" Senna shook her head. "We're either going to become legends or cautionary tales."

  "No in-between?"

  "Not with these two."

  Lucius took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he began to focus. "Alright, time for the magic trick." He placed his right hand over the core, his voice dropping to a low rumble that seemed to resonate with the storm outside.

  "To the King of Chaos, the Lord of the Storm—"

  "You pray like you're negotiating a business deal," Cole interrupted.

  Lucius opened one eye, annoyed. "Better than whispering like you're afraid to wake someone up."

  "At least I show proper reverence."

  "At least mine knows I exist beyond polite suggestions."

  "Your god probably has you on a watch list."

  "For excellence."

  "For property damage."

  They both were exhausted beyond measure but somehow found energy for one more exchange.

  "Next time," Cole said, "we're hunting something nice and simple. Like a regular bear."

  "A regular bear?" Lucius snorted. "With our luck, it'll turn out to be a Sequence Two Dream Bear that attacks through nightmares."

  "Don't jinx it."

  "Too late. I can feel the universe taking notes." Lucius gestured at his corroded arm. "See? Fresh annotation."

  Cole glanced at the ash still falling from Lucius's hair. "Maybe stop giving it ideas."

  Cole shook his head but couldn't suppress a small smile. Despite everything—the near-death experiences, the insanity, the bone-deep weariness— he had to admit that Lucius made even the worst situations somehow bearable. Maybe it was the relentless optimism disguised as sarcasm, or maybe it was just nice to have someone else who understood what it meant to push beyond human limits and survive.

  "Hey," Cole said after a moment. "That final strike, channeling everything through your daggers... that was actually impressive."

  "Was that a compliment? From Cole? Quick, someone check if reality is still stable."

  "Forget I said anything."

  "Too late. I'm having it engraved on a plaque. 'Cole said I was impressive.' Date, time, witness signature."

  "I take it back."

  "No refunds on compliments."

  "You can't just declare that."

  "Watch me." Lucius's grin faded as he felt the Wyrm core pulsing insistently. "But first, time to finish this prayer."

  "By all means, continue your hostile takeover of heaven's customer service."

  "Thank you, I will." Lucius closed his eyes again, refocusing on the prayer. His voice grew stronger, more commanding. “To the King of Chaos, the Lord of the Storm!” Lucius intoned. “I offer this core, torn from the heart of a worthy tempest! A tribute of beautiful violence, paid for in blood and lightning! Witness this victory, and revel in the chaos yet to come!”

  The vehicle’s interior lights flickered violently. The air crackled with a sudden, intense charge, and for a moment, the vehicle was plunged into the heart of a miniature thunderstorm. Cole watched in awe as blue-white lightning arced from the Wyrm core, flowing into Lucius. His wounds cauterized instantly, the corroded chrome on his arm flaking away as new, pristine metal reformed underneath. The process was a violent, convulsive reforging. His body arched in pain and ecstasy as the divine energy tore through him, healing and empowering him in equal measure.

  When the light faded, he was whole. Not a scratch on him, his armor repaired, his core fully recharged. Even the exhaustion was gone, replaced by a manic, electric energy.

  “What a prick” Lucius was now out of his trance, his voice full of a strange mixture of reverence and annoyance.

  “Bad experience with your favorite deity?” Lia asked.

  “He was giving me a golf clap,” Lucius grumbled. “A slow, condescending, divine golf clap. Like he was mildly amused by the whole damn thing. The bastard.” He shook his head, the annoyance fading. “Oh well. One down, one to go.”

  “Hey, Lucius,” Cole cut in. “Now that you are all healed up and everything, you think you could honor our part of the deal? You know, considering I saved your ass.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Lucius rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, you made your point, princess. I guess.”

  He opened the vehicle’s hatch and leapt out, his descent a controlled, crackling fall that was more lightning than gravity. Though not a full Sequence Four with all its innate powers, Cole could see a decent increase in his speed and control since the core’s absorption.

  From the relative safety of the vehicle, Cole and Lia watched the external camera feeds Senna had pulled up on the main display. On the screen, different versions of Lucius descended upon the massive, smoking corpse of the Voltaic Wyrm. It was like watching a hyper-efficient, supernatural butchering crew get to work.

  “Alright, you magnificent bastards, you heard the rookie!” the real Lucius commanded his clones. “We need the good stuff! I want the primary frill crystals, the heart-sheath, and about fifty of the larger scales! The rest is just meat!”

  Lucius’s clones quickly went to work. Two of them used The Eye and The Hurricane daggers to make precise, initial cuts, while the others channeled focused, razor-thin arcs of lightning that acted as plasma torches, slicing through the Wyrm’s incredibly dense hide. They moved with a brutal, synchronized efficiency, carving up the 200-foot serpent and harvesting only the most valuable, portable pieces. They worked in silence, the team dismantling a god-like creature with the practiced air of factory workers on an assembly line.

  “Huh.” Cole watched a clone use a controlled lightning charge to pop one of the Wyrm’s massive, railway-spike teeth from its jaw. “I gotta admit, that’s impressive.”

  “It’s the best way to process a kill of this size,” Senna’s voice noted. “Minimizes time on the ground and exposure to whatever is out there trying to kill us. His method is crude, but the underlying logic is sound.”

  Within minutes, the clones were returning, their arms laden with iridescent scales the size of dinner plates, jagged crystals that pulsed with contained lightning, and other, less identifiable organs that steamed in the cool air. They stowed the parts in the vehicle’s shielded cargo bay.

  “So, what’s next then?” Cole asked, the adrenaline finally starting to wear off, leaving a deep, bone-weary ache in its place. “Continue hunting for Senna’s monster? What’s its name again?”

  "They call it the Lacemaker of Agony, and no, not yet," Senna replied. "We're low on med supplies and food. If we push now, we'll be running on empty before we even find it."

  “Lacemaker of Agony?”

  "It's called that because it uses monowire to shred enemies apart while amplifying their pain," Senna explained. "Think razor floss that makes paper cuts feel like limb removal."

  Cole blinked. "Why is this the first I'm hearing about this? When were you planning to mention the pain-amplifying wire monster I'll be helping you fight?"

  "I mentioned it," Senna pointed out. "In the briefing doc. Page seven."

  "Nobody reads page seven, Senna," Lucius called out from where he was directing his clones. "Page one is mission overview. Page two is what can kill us. Page seven is where you hide the 'oh by the way, this will be horrifying' details."

  "Maybe you should read more thoroughly then."

  "Maybe you should lead with 'the monster tortures you to death with serrated wire,'" Lucius shot back. “Cole’s the one who has to fight it alongside you."

  Senna's voice remained dry. "I'm very aware of that. Which is why I want him well-fed and properly equipped before we hunt it."

  "Appreciate the consideration," Cole muttered. "Really feeling valued here."

  "You are valued," Lia chimed in. "We need someone to test if the wires are still active."

  "Hilarious."

  Lucius finally dismissed his last clone with a wave, the construct flickering and dissolving into static. "It's a little funny. Besides, you've got those fancy mirror legs now. Just reflect the pain back at it."

  "The legs don't work like that."

  "Have you tried?"

  "Pain isn't light, Lucius."

  “According to quantum physics, anything can be anything if you're creative enough."

  "You just made that up."

  "Prove I didn't."

  Senna's voice cut through their banter. "If you two are done discussing theoretical physics, we should get moving. The Bone Hounds will be back soon."

  "Also, I would kill for a beer," Lia cut in, her voice thick with exhaustion. "A real one, not the recycled piss they sell in the ration packs. There's a town not too far from here where we can resupply."

  Cole's head snapped up. "Wait—a town? Out here? In the Wastes?"

  "Not just any town," Senna's voice carried weight. "Cinderhaven."

  "That supposed to mean something to me?" Cole asked.

  Lucius whistled low. "You really don't know? Cinderhaven's a legend. Built inside the corpse of a Sequence One rift-beast."

  "Inside a—" Cole stopped himself. "You know what, of course it is. Why would anything out here be normal?"

  "Yeah. Remember Zhang Wei? The Collective Absolute who died in the Third Rift War?" Lia explained. "Well, the Sequence One rift-beast they killed to achieve that ascension is out here, about a few hours away. Its corpse is so massive and reality-warped that it created its own stable ecosystem."

  "People live inside a dead god-monster," Cole said flatly. "Somehow that's both the worst and most practical thing I've heard today."

  "Live, work, drink, fight," Senna said. "It's also the best place to sell monster parts within five hundred miles. The bone marrow markets alone—"

  "Bone marrow markets," Cole repeated flatly. "Let me guess—high demand, limited supply?"

  "You got it! Cinderhaven has its own economy," Lucius said, already starting the vehicle's engines. The machine roared to life with a sound like grinding metal and screaming souls. "Last time I was there, I saw someone selling bottled nightmares. Literal nightmares. In jars."

  "I would ask how, but I have a feeling I don’t want to find out."

  "Smart choice. One broke in the market while I was there. Two people went into comas."

  "And naturally, you want to go back."

  "Best beer in the Wastes," Lia said firmly. "The brewmaster uses water filtered through the creature's petrified heart. Gives it a unique mineral profile."

  "Sounds like something that will either kill you or make you immortal."

  "The whole Wastes region is contaminated," Senna pointed out. "At least in Cinderhaven, the contamination gets you drunk."

  The vehicle lurched into motion, flying over the battlefield. Cole watched the devastation recede through the rear cameras—the massive scorch mark where the Wyrm had died, the glassed swamp, the few remaining Bone Hounds already creeping back to investigate.

  "So," Cole said after a few minutes of relative quiet, "anything else I should know about Cinderhaven? Besides the nightmare jars and corpse-filtered beer?"

  "Don't touch the walls," Lucius warned. "They still have nerve endings. Well, sort of. It's more like... psychic nerve echoes? The creature's been dead for decades, but parts of it still remember being alive."

  "Even more nightmare fuel. Fun."

  Senna looked at Cole. "Those nerve clusters are worth a fortune to the right buyers. Neural enhancers, psychic amplifiers, memory extracts. People pay insane money to experience what it was like being a Sequence One entity."

  "Let me guess… most of them go insane?"

  "Most," Lia confirmed. "The survivors say it's transcendent."

  "Hard pass."

  "Your loss," Lucius added. "Oh, and avoid the Marrow District after dark. That's where the real monsters shop."

  "Real monsters as opposed to...?"

  "Us," Senna stated simply. "We're tourists compared to what lives in the deep sections. Things that were drawn to the corpse, feeding off its residual energy. Some of them used to be human."

  "I am guessing that used to be isn’t a metaphor here."

  "The creature's blood has mutagenic properties. Some people thought drinking it would grant them power. They were right, technically. They got power. They also got tentacles, extra mouths, and a taste for human flesh."

  Cole slumped in his seat. “Can’t wait to hang up my coat.”

  "Look at it this way," Lucius’s grin was audible. "After what we just survived, how bad could a bar run by mutants really be?"

  "You just jinxed us again."

  "I prefer to think of it as setting expectations."

  The fog was thickening as they drove, taking on an oily, iridescent quality that reminded Cole of the Wyrm's scales.

  "How long until we get there?" Cole asked.

  "Two hours if we're lucky," Lia checked her instruments. "Three if we hit a toxic storm."

  "Right, I keep forgetting about those. Because normal weather would be too easy."

  "Oh, you haven't experienced one yet," Senna's voice held with what sounded suspiciously like anticipation. "The atmospheric disturbance from the creature's death creates localized phenomena. Acid rain, electromagnetic cyclones, gravity inversions..."

  "The gravity inversions are particularly fun," Lucius added. "You fall upward for a bit. Really puts hair on your chest. Or removes it. Depends on the concentration."

  "I'm starting to miss Forge-City."

  "No you're not," Senna said. "In Forge-City things weren’t half as exciting. Out here, you're getting adventure every day."

  "That’s a nice way to phrase being likely to die horribly on a daily basis."

  "Adventure, horrible death—it's all about perspective," Lucius said.

  "That sounds like something you read on a motivational poster."

  "It was actually graffiti in a Cinderhaven bathroom. Right next to 'For a good time, don't call anyone, you'll die.'"

  "You wrote that didn’t you?"

  "Honestly it grows on you," Lia interrupted. "Like a fungus. Or a parasite. Or a fungal parasite."

  "Tell me there's at least decent food there." Cole was trying to focus on something positive.

  "Define decent," Senna replied.

  "Edible. Won't kill me. Preferably originated from something with a normal number of legs."

  "Two out of three isn't bad," Lucius said. "There's this bbq spot in the Sternum Plaza that does amazing things with processed protein. You don't ask what kind of protein, but it tastes like beef if you add enough sauce."

  "Let me guess. Sternum Plaza is another body part reference?"

  “Got it in one," Lia continued. "The districts all follow the anatomy theme. You've got the Skull Settlements up top, the Ribcage Markets in the middle, the Marrow Districts in the deep parts, and the Spine Highway connecting them all. It sounds morbid, but it actually helps with navigation."

  "What kind of desperate situation makes someone look at a giant dead monster and think 'home sweet home'?"

  "Desperate people make desperate choices," Senna didn’t look up from her controls. "The corpse provides shelter from the Wastes, the bones filter some of the radiation, and the residual energy keeps most predators away. For all its weirdness, it's the safest settlement in the area."

  "We have very different definitions of safe."

  "My definition of safe is 'less likely to die than yesterday,'" Senna said. "By that metric, Cinderhaven is practically paradise."

  Through the thickening fog, Cole began to make out something massive ahead. At first, he thought it was a mountain range emerging from the toxic mist. Then his brain started processing the scale.

  "So I am guessing that would be…"

  "Welcome to Cinderhaven," Lucius’s voice held genuine awe despite having seen it before. "Population: whoever survived yesterday."

  The settlement of Cinderhaven was carved from death itself.

  "How big was this thing when it was alive?" Cole whispered.

  "Big enough that its death created a permanent weather system," Lia's voice was quiet. "They say when Zhang Wei killed it, the impact could be felt on the other side of the continent."

  The vehicle began its approach to what looked like an enormous wound in the creature's side, now converted into a gateway. Cole could see tiny figures moving around the entrance, dwarfed by the scale of the corpse they called home.

  "Still want that beer?" Lia asked.

  Cole looked at the nightmare made real before them, thought about everything they'd just survived, and everything still ahead.

  "Yeah," he finally managed. "I think I'm going to need several."

  ?? Mud Wizard Bob ??

  The dirtiest wizard alive.

  Jonny the Man.

  Teleported mid-soak into a completely scuffed System initiation—right in front of his golden retriever.

  Exploding pus-grenades.

  Drunken magical thugs.

  The power to control… mud.

  What to Expect:

  - Progression fantasy — Zero to Hero (slow burn)

  - Real character growth

  - Action, absurdity, and adventure

  - Background British humour

  - Overpowered Dog Knight companion ??

  Chapters release Monday–Friday.