The bridge stank of scorched pavement, broken steel, and the peculiar sweetness of recent blood. Fog lay thick across the wreckage, low clouds wrapped tight around the dead like a burial shroud. Kade moved through the bodies, both skeletons and rodentia, examining each to make sure they were actually dead. The squads had already spread out and begun their work of scanning, salvaging, confirming kills. Gear clinked faintly in the silence, a rhythm only soldiers would find comforting.

  “Elara’s the worst injury, Lieutenant,” Stone called.

  Kade turned, eyes catching the shape of the mage slumped against the dented frame of a burned-out hatchback. Elara's head tilted slightly, and she breathed short but even breaths. Blood had soaked through her thigh, staining the pale fabric. Stone knelt beside her, one hand already on the shaft buried deep in the muscle.

  “This one’s barbed,” she said, placing her hand on Elara's shoulder. “You’re not going to like it.”

  Elara didn’t speak. She reached for a worn leather strap from her belt, folded it in half, and bit down. Her hand gripped the edge of the bumper, fingers curled tight until the knuckles whitened. Nodding at Stone, she looked resolved and braced for what was coming.

  Stone didn’t hesitate.

  She braced her palm against Elara’s thigh, positioned her grip low on the shaft, then gave it a sharp steady pull. The sound it made was worse than the sight. A grinding snap of metal shearing flesh, followed by a wet, tearing release that pulled something vital with it. Blood followed immediately, welling thick and fast.

  Elara didn’t scream. Her back arched, muscles locked, teeth grinding into the strap as she rode the pain through with nothing but grit. It wasn’t bravery for show. Just a choice not to let it slow her down.

  Kade came to a stop a few feet away. She didn’t speak or move closer. Just stood with her cutlass still in hand and let the moment unfold. Stone worked with focus, already discarding the arrow and pressing both hands to the wound.

  A pulse of gold light flared from Stone's palms, bright against the blood-slick fabric. It moved in straight lines with clean energy, hitting the wound like a command, not a question. Flesh pulled together with mechanical precision, the torn edge of muscle closing in tight intervals, like time stepping backward one frame at a time. Blood slowed, then stopped. Tissue knitted with visible efficiency, the magic working through the damage with the urgency of a field repair.

  Kade watched Elara breathe through it, jaw still tight, fingers loosening their death grip on the metal as the worst of the pain faded. When the light dimmed and the wound had closed enough for bandaging, Stone began wrapping the leg with smooth, practiced motions.

  “You’ll be sore for a couple of days,” she said, checking her work. “But you’ll keep the leg.”

  Elara exhaled and dropped the strap into her lap. Her voice came dry, ragged, but intact.

  “I really need to try not to use my leg to catch those next time.”

  Kade gave the bandage a last glance, then moved past them to the edge of the formation. Briggs was speaking low to one of his marines while Lawson directed a sweep through the wreckage. The squads had already resumed their work, checking bodies and clearing blind spots with the quiet focus of people who knew better than to assume a fight was finished just because the noise had stopped.

  “Status,” she called out. "I want to get this party moving."

  Lawson didn’t miss a beat. “Everything is actually dead. One marine with a minor shoulder wound. Field-dressed. He’ll keep moving. That Elara lady got the worst of it.”

  “Alright, scavenge fast. Five minutes. Then we’re off this bridge.”

  Briggs gave a wordless nod, adding nothing to the conversation, and turned back to his squad. The marines began working faster now, checking gear, weapons, any glint of coin or salvage worth packing. The rhythm of movement had shifted, with less tension in the joints but no loss in urgency.

  Kade’s attention drifted to Mireya. The researcher crouched low beside one of the armored skeletons, orb pulsing faintly near her shoulder. Her hands moved with delicate precision as she examined the bone fragments, as if she were logging samples instead of kneeling in the blood of soldiers who had just kept her alive. She muttered softly to herself, the cadence analytical and cool.

  Kade didn’t interrupt. She didn’t need to. Mireya was already filing the dead into data points.

  Instead, she looked back to Elara, who was now pushing herself upright against the battered car door. The mage’s face was pale, eyes sharp despite the tremor still in her fingers. Her casting hand rested against her thigh, not quite ready to lift again, but close.

  “You good?” Kade asked.

  Elara gave the smallest smile. “Good enough.”

  Kade stepped back, letting her gaze sweep the length of the bridge one more time. The fog hadn’t shifted. The air still tasted like iron. Whatever had set this trap might be gone. Or it might still be watching. The Simulation liked to leave edges sharp.

  Her grip tightened around the cutlass as she turned her attention back to Dr. Mireya.

  Mireya crouched near the edge of the wreckage, one knee planted on cracked pavement beside what remained of the crowned skeleton. The blackened ribs still smoked faintly from the last cut Kade had delivered. The floating orb at Mireya’s shoulder pulsed with slow, methodical light, recording every angle of the corpse while she muttered to herself and moved carefully, as if disturbing it too much might spoil the investigation.

  Kade watched her from a distance at first, weighing the woman’s posture and pace. Mireya didn’t seem shaken. Not in the usual sense. But there was tension there, buried beneath her composure. She wasn’t ignoring the danger. She just didn’t seem to place herself in it.

  The researcher shifted position, brushing aside a shard of spine to expose the war mage’s remaining vertebrae. Her fingers moved with care, pausing every so often as the orb shifted, casting small blue pulses across the bones. The glow didn’t seem decorative anymore. It moved when she moved, adjusting its light based on where she focused. It almost seemed alive itself.

  “Lieutenant,” Mireya said, without turning. “You may want to see this.”

  Kade glanced toward Lawson, who stood nearby watching her back. He gave a faint shrug that meant about what she was thinking. Probably important. Probably annoying.

  “You found something of interest, Doctor?”

  Mireya didn’t rise. She pointed instead, her tone even. “This isn’t just a tough patrol, or a coordinated spawn. Look at the lineup. A ranged attack with the gunslinger and archer. A caster-type glass cannon for heavy damage. Then the front line melee to tie us up to slow down the engagement of the ranged monsters. They weren’t just stacked for difficulty. They were built for encounter flow. You only see this kind of role structure in scripted dungeon encounters, where someone intentionally places every enemy. The only thing missing here was a healer-type monster for the class trinity of dungeon delving.”

  Lawson stepped up beside Kade, frowning like someone had handed him a puzzle box labeled for wizards only. “I'm not sure we understand what you're saying, Doctor.”

  “In a dungeon,” Mireya said, “this is the sort of ambush you’d expect right before triggering a boss event. A pressure encounter. Force players to commit resources, maybe spend cooldowns, then hit them hard once they’re off balance.”

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  “Charming,” Kade said. “And how often does that happen outside a dungeon?”

  Mireya finally stood, brushing debris from her gloves. “It doesn’t. Or didn’t. Dungeon monsters are normally part of an overall theme. Open-world creatures behave according to territory, threat response, or environmental triggers. Until now.”

  She turned to look directly at Kade, her brow furrowed but not alarmed.

  “The world event notification mentioned an increase in rare variant encounters. That part we expected. But if it’s also lifting behavior patterns from dungeon instances and pushing them into the open world, that changes things.”

  “This is just one data point. Could be random.” Lawson said.

  Mireya’s expression didn’t change. “It could. But this was structured. And the presence of a rare-class enemy confirms at least part of the event messaging.”

  Kade glanced down at the skeleton, then back to Mireya. “You’re not wrong. But we’ve already seen boss mechanics. Newport. Block Island. The Simulation used a similar structure, though it wasn't framed the same way. Coordinated attacks. Area denial. Hard phases. Not just bigger numbers.”

  Mireya tilted her head, with the same calculating light flickering in her eyes.

  “That’s new,” she said. “We hadn’t documented anything outside structured instances showing full boss sequencing.”

  “Well,” Kade said, folding her arms. “Now you have.”

  “If that’s true, then you're right. This is just one data point. However, it's a disturbing trend…”

  She didn’t finish the sentence. Just left it there, hanging like a tripwire.

  “Should we be worried?” Lawson asked.

  “I’d be more worried if it weren’t happening,” Mireya said. “Dungeons are where the Simulation appears to hide its best rewards. If it’s extending those mechanics out here, then we’re going to see increased magical items and resources.”

  Kade gave her a look. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

  Mireya glanced up from her orb, tone dry. “Well, if the world's going to keep trying to kill us, it might as well drop something worth picking up.”

  Kade snorted. “That’s one way to stay motivated.”

  Mireya stepped back from the corpse and made a final note in the air. The orb spun once, pulsed, then resumed its slow hover near her shoulder.

  “We really should get you both into a dungeon sometime. Valuable experience. Magic items. Tactical loot. The structure is brutal, but it teaches.”

  “Add it to our field trip list,” Kade said. “Right after everyone in Portland stops trying to eat itself and establishes a safe zone.”

  Before Mireya could reply, Briggs’s voice called from deeper in the fog.

  “Lieutenant! We’re done here.”

  Kade turned toward the sound.

  Briggs appeared out of the haze like a storm-worn figurehead, shoulders squared and expression somewhere between satisfaction and fatigue. His boots clunked against the broken pavement as he crossed toward Kade and Lawson, wiping bone dust from his axe with the tail of his coat. The squads behind him were already settling into that post-engagement rhythm, light conversation mingling with the scrape of metal and the occasional grunt from someone hauling gear out of a wrecked vehicle.

  “Area’s clear,” he said. “No second wave. Loot’s mostly trash. Standard junk. Blades rusted through and the armor’s so brittle I’m amazed it didn’t fall off during the charge.”

  He reached into the pack he'd placed at his feet and pulled free two wrapped objects.

  “But,” he added, offering them out, “we pulled a couple of exceptions.”

  Kade took the first item. The pistol of the gunslinger. It was a beautiful weapon with intricate engraving. The engraving was shallow but gorgeous, a stylized sea serpent coiled around the cylinder housing. The weight was good and balanced.

  She flipped it once in her hand, then checked the sight rail. If this was the gear dungeons dropped, maybe it was time to spend a little time exploring some of them. This was a sidearm meant to be used, and more gear like this would significantly increase the fighting power of the Horizon Talon crew.

  Lawson leaned in to study it. “That is a beautiful weapon. Reminds me of some of the artisan work from the Wild West."

  “That gunslinger carried it,” Briggs said. “Fought smart, too. This didn’t end up here by accident.”

  Kade didn’t answer. Her fingers closed around the grip and stayed there longer than necessary. Her cutlass did the job. However, it had limits. Range mattered, especially with the kinds of fights they’d been running into lately. The Simulation wasn’t just spawning sword fodder anymore.

  Stormcoil Serpent

  Quality: Epic

  Enchantments: Serpent's Mark, Burning Fang

  Description: A masterwork six-shot revolver forged in the old world and engraved with the image of a sea serpent coiled around its cylinder. Its dark metal frame has a subtle bluish sheen, and fine gears etched along the hammer and trigger hint at a steampunk design philosophy. The holster belt is deep brown leather tooled with wave crests and coral patterns, stitched with blue thread that faintly glows under moonlight. Every part of this weapon suggests precision, artistry, and intent. The kind of relic made for a marksman who expected to survive more than one fight.

  Serpent’s Mark: Deals 25% bonus damage to aquatic or water-aligned creatures.

  Burning Fang: Successful hits ignite the target, dealing fire damage over time for 10 seconds.

  "I think I might take this one," Kade said after a moment. "Any objections to that?"

  "You're the highest rank here, Ma'am. First right of refusal is yours." Briggs responded.

  "No concern from me. I think you could do with a ranged opener instead of running out ahead of everyone else to close with the enemy," Lawson said.

  Kade didn’t take the bait. Lawson’s ribbing bounced off as easily as the rest. She knew her way of fighting wasn’t textbook Marine coordination, and she didn’t care. Instead, she focused on fitting the new holster beneath her naval coat, adjusting the position until the draw lined up cleanly with her cutlass. The thigh strap took a moment to seat properly. After she tied it down, she practiced drawing the revolver a few times until everything was perfectly positioned.

  Briggs passed the second item to Lawson, though his eyes flicked back toward Kade as he spoke.

  “Pulled this off the caster. It fused to its skull. Had to pry it free with a prybar and half a prayer.”

  It was a crown. Or close enough. Coral strands wrapped into a loose circlet with fine strands of kelp woven between the ridges. The thing pulsed faintly in the light, breathing with some internal rhythm like a heart buried in stone.

  Kade stepped in, reached toward it, then stopped. She didn’t know what she expected to feel. There was no pain or heat, just a wrongness. That made her want to recoil from touching it. It wasn't hostile. Just… misaligned. Like the crown existed slightly out of sync with everything around it. Not evil. But not hers either.

  “Uh, anyone else get a weird feeling when trying to touch this?,” she asked.

  "Read the description. It looks like it is restricted to certain people," Briggs said.

  Crown of the Drowned Depths

  Quality: Rare

  Enchantments: Deepwell Reservoir, Undertow Recovery, Echoed Insight.

  Description: A circlet of dark coral twisted into a jagged crown, its surface slick with salt-stained luster and threaded with strands of blackened kelp. Faint pulses of blue-green light shimmer deep within its ridges, like distant bioluminescence seen through seawater. The crown is unnaturally cold to the touch and resists the grip of anyone who doesn’t share its affinity.

  Warning: Usable only by dark-aligned classes. Attempting to equip without proper affinity may result in arcane rejection or status debuffs.

  Deepwell Reservoir: Increases maximum mana by 15%. Undertow Recovery: Improves mana regeneration rate by 10%. Echoed Insight: Grants +2 Intelligence.

  "Well, that explains it. Makes this item useless for everyone on the Talon, doesn't it?" Kade asked.

  "Can't say for sure, but I think so," Lawson responded.

  Briggs placed the crown back in his pack. Then the three stood in silence for a moment. Each lost in their own thoughts.

  Behind them, Mireya had returned to her analysis, orb gliding at her shoulder as she moved with the same deliberate focus she’d shown earlier. She didn’t look up. Her hands hovered over another fractured ribcage, murmuring notations that only her recording sphere would understand. Stone worked nearby, crouched beside a wounded marine from Briggs’ squad, tightening the last strap on a field dressing. Neither seemed in a rush.

  Kade turned at the sound of approaching boots. A Marine emerged from the fog at a jog, one hand raised, the other holding something high in the air. Her steps slowed as she reached them, a faint grin playing across her face as she held out the object like an offering.

  “Lieutenant. Found this about twenty paces back,” she said, slightly winded. “Thought you’d want it.”

  Kade recognized the shape before the words even landed. Her tricorn hat. The brim had a tear, and a clean groove sliced along the upper edge at a sharp angle, as if it had been surgical. The bullet had skimmed through it. If the shooter had aimed a few inches to the left to miss her pauldron, it wouldn’t have just been a fashion casualty.

  “Looks like the universe was trying to tell you the hat’s out of style,” the Marine added.

  Kade took it without hesitation. Dusted it off with a flick of her wrist and slid it back onto her head with the same smooth motion she used to draw her weapon.

  “Not a chance,” she said, before giving a head-jerk motion toward Briggs to get everyone ready to move out.

  The Marine gave a half-smile, nodded, and peeled off toward Lawson’s squad.

  Briggs let out something between a grunt and a chuckle and turned toward the rest of the bridge.

  “All right, people,” he called, voice cutting through the quiet. “Form up. Same spacing. Two staggered columns. Let’s get back to marching before something else decides to make an entrance.”

  Lawson was already signaling, his squad falling in around him with practiced speed. Blades went back to belts, crossbows were checked, and gear cinched tight. Briggs' team followed suit, slipping into formation with no need for further instruction.

  Mireya drifted in behind the second squad, her orb bobbing quietly at her shoulder. Elara stayed close, her steps careful but steady now that the healing had set in. Stone brought up the rear, scanning the marines one last time for signs of missed injuries before falling into line.

  Kade watched them all reset for a moment before she stepped into position near the front of the column, adjusted the strap of her gun belt one last time, and rested her hand on the hilt of her cutlass.

  Now came the hard part. The cemetery waited.

  Tides of Ruin and The Grand Crusade. That’s ten chapters each, twenty chapters total waiting for you. Patreon also has an exclusive in-universe collection of short stories told by Marla, the waitress from the Explorer’s Inn in Starlight. They add a little extra depth to the world and offer a glimpse into what’s happening in other characters’ lives.