The klaxons hadn’t stopped. If anything, they were louder now, echoing off the walls in steady, screaming pulses as they ran toward the docks. The sound had worked its way under Kade’s skin, vibrating in her jaw, syncing up with the beat of her heart like a countdown.

  She didn’t look back.

  The corridor pitched again with the sound of metal warping under stress. Lights flickered above, casting red strobes across the cracked flooring. A buckled bulkhead blocked most of the passage ahead, bent inward by some unseen impact. She dipped low, motioned the others forward, and moved through fast.

  Webb came next, still holding Holt’s pike pole in a tight grip. The others followed in a loose formation, quick and quiet, every move punctuated by the blaring of the klaxons. Myers, Briggs, Mercer, Stone. Lawson brought up the rear, the unconscious weight of Captain Voss slung over one shoulder.

  Into the Widow's Web

  Quest Update! Out of the frying pan and into the fire. You've snatched Captain Voss from the clutches of Naomi Darkmoor but now you're in an exploding military base currently doubling as a tomb to be people who messed with artifacts that they shouldn't have.

  Difficulty: Impossible

  Completion Conditions: Return Captain Voss to the Horizon Talon and escape the destruction of the base with your ship intact.

  Ship Rewards: 20,000 Gold, Return of Captain Voss, Two Magic Items

  Individual Rewards: 50 Gold, Experience, One Epic Magic Item, Two Magic Items

  Well, that wasn’t snarky at all, Kade thought, eyes narrowing as the quest screen blinked out just as fast as it appeared.

  It didn’t stop her from running, but it made her heart drop a gear. That update wasn’t just a change in priority. It was confirmation. Someone had built this place with pre-crash Simulation artifacts and whatever they were trying to control had fought back hard.

  The base was coming apart beneath their feet, and now it wasn’t just about getting out alive. They had to reach the ship. Get clear of the cave system. Which meant the entire mooring structure could collapse, and the Horizon Talon might already be compromised.

  It said nothing about SMC survivors. No side-objectives. No rescue paths. No contingency. Either no one was left, or the Simulation didn’t think they mattered anymore.

  "Don’t stop," she said. "Not until we’re off this rock."

  A mechanical shriek cut through the hallway.

  One of the base’s constructs dropped from a ventilation shaft above, arms twitching, its movement jerky and uneven. Scorching marred the plating across its chest, and one leg dragged with a sparking limp. Sensors lit up. It charged.

  Webb stepped forward and launched Holt's pike like he had thrown it a hundred times before. The shaft struck home just under the optical cluster, driving the bot back into the wall with a metal crunch. Myers was already moving. He closed the gap with a quick jab of his short sword, twisted once, and the construct dropped.

  "Nice throw," Kade said as they passed the downed construct.

  Webb yanked the weapon free. "Would’ve been cleaner if Holt’d done it."

  Kade didn’t answer. The silence that followed said enough.

  The corridor narrowed, walls blackened by old fire. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes somewhere up ahead, painting the air in a haze. A fresh tremor rolled through the floor. Dust shook loose from the ceiling panels.

  "That one felt close," Stone said.

  "Take the stairs are just ahead. Push through." Lawson called from the back of the pack.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner, coming face to face with two constructs moving fast up the corridor.

  Both were tall and humanoid, built from mismatched plating that looked scavenged rather than forged, and neither carried a visible weapon. Their arms ended in blunt reinforced grips, not claws or blades. Instead of the combat models Kade had grown used to seeing, these appeared to be some kind of repurposed labor frames.

  "Close quarters only," she snapped. "Aim for knees or neck plates."

  The lead construct lunged forward with a single, powerful step that cracked the tile beneath its feet.

  Briggs was already moving. His axe hit just under the left knee joint, tearing through servos with a metallic snap. The construct buckled, staggered, and dropped hard into Mercer’s waiting trap. She swung wide with a salvaged pipe, driving it into the side of its head with a satisfying snap of ceramic optics.

  The second construct moved slower. It reached for Stone, who fell back as Webb intercepted, pike pole braced like a vaulting spear. He jammed it into the construct’s hip plate and shoved hard, twisting until something gave.

  The construct spasmed, staggered, then crumpled sideways.

  Myers stepped up behind it and buried his blade into the base of the neck housing. The machine jerked once, then fell still.

  Webb held his position a moment longer, the pike pole steady in his grip.

  "Rear status?" Kade asked, calling over her shoulder as the group once again resumed their mad dash toward the docks.

  "All clear," Lawson answered.

  This corridor sloped downward. Power conduits hung from the ceiling like exposed veins. Warning lights still strobed. The klaxons had shifted pitch now, looping into a higher register, like the system knew it was running out of time.

  They reached the final blast door. It had jammed open just enough for them to squeeze through. What waited beyond wasn’t just a plaza. It was a grave.

  The dome overhead had partially collapsed. Light filtered in through broken glass and twisted beams, throwing hard shadows across the open expanse. Craters and scorch marks covered the ground. Blown barricades lay scattered. Emplacement mounts had been slagged where they stood.

  The gate Lawson had described stood at the center of it all. Or what was left of it.

  Two jagged arcs jutted upward from the cracked floor like broken horns. Faint runes flickered along their edges, dim and uneven. Something tore free the top third of the ring, and its pieces shattered across the plaza like shattered bones. Whatever had broken it left no burn pattern, no impact site. Just ruin.

  Kade slowed almost unconsciously as she witnessed the sheer amount of destruction for herself. She wanted to stop, just for a second, but this wasn't the time for investigations.

  She hadn’t come this way. She only had Lawson’s report, but it hadn’t captured the weight of what she was seeing now.

  There were bodies. Burned, broken, half-buried in rubble. Too many to stop for. Lawson had already gathered the tags from anyone he could find. It wasn’t her job to mourn them here. Not now.

  They crossed the plaza at a hard pace, boots striking scorched concrete as the klaxons continued to scream above them. Time was running out.

  The moment they cleared the plaza, the noise changed.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Klaxons still screamed overhead, but now the sound echoed wider, reverberating off steel support struts and shattered bulkheads in long, jagged loops. They were in an open stretch of the base, maybe a transport corridor or loading zone once. It was hard to tell through the fire and falling ceiling.

  She kept the group tight but moving, navigating between collapsed service trucks, half-melted crates, and broken defense turrets now fused to the floor. The walls bled sparks and flame, systems rupturing in ways they were never designed to. Someone had gutted this place with more than just ordinance.

  A section of the floor groaned ahead, loud enough to cut through the alarms.

  "Watch out!," Kade called.

  Too late. The stone floor groaned again, then buckled. The ground tore open with a grinding shriek, dragging half a squad of pirates into the dark below. One screamed once before vanishing into smoke and dust. It was the same bastard who had shoved Cam during the Magnus fight.

  Briggs skidded to a stop, breathing hard. "That karma, or bad footing?"

  "Both," Mercer muttered.

  The rest of the group adjusted, cutting a path along the more stable side of the floor. Stone didn’t look down, just locked her mouth into a frown. She didn’t need to look down to know what she would find. The fall had done its job.

  Kade moved past her to check the trailing line. Lawson still carried Voss, shifting his grip but never stopping. Webb flanked the edge of the gap, steady despite the chaos. The pike pole he carried now looked more like a standard than a weapon, Holt’s last mark still burning under the grime.

  Ahead, the corridor opened into the docking bay.

  The Horizon Talon sat moored to the last section of surviving dock, sails partially rigged, her hull groaning in the rising heat. Lines were already being hauled in by the deck crew, sails beginning to unfurl. Sparks of wind magic crackled faintly from the forecastle, where the Stormmage stood ready, arms lifted in preparation.

  But the Widow’s Grin was gone. Someone had slashed or burned through the mooring ropes at the empty dock where she'd been tied, leaving blackened, smoking stubs. A few packs and pieces of gear lay discarded near the berth, half-trampled in the rush to leave.

  Of course, Naomi made it out. Kade's blood boiled for a moment before fading. They had more immediate problems to address before considering revenge.

  So Naomi had found a crew somewhere in the base. They hadn’t seen them, hadn’t engaged, but someone had helped her get that ship off the dock and into open water. That meant more survivors than they’d counted. Or more enemies.

  She’d have to deal with it later.

  "Eyes up," Kade called. "Naomi’s gone. We’re not."

  The squad crossed the dock at full sprint, boots thundering on old wood and uneven stone as chunks of the cavern ceiling collapsed behind them. One of the outer columns gave way with a groan and dropped in a cloud of stone dust, wiping out an old crane platform as it fell.

  The Talon’s gangplank was already lowering when they arrived.

  Bishop stood at the top, bracing the rope pulley with one hand as the deck crew worked to secure lines and prep sails.

  "You cut it close," he said as Kade reached him. "The Widow's Grin left in a hurry about ten minutes ago. The skeleton crew we had left wasn't enough to engage them."

  "We'll worry about that later," she replied, not slowing.

  Lawson moved past with Voss still draped over his shoulder, heading below. Stone followed close behind.

  "Start casting off," Kade ordered. "Now. We're out of time."

  The crew threw the lines free. Cleats slipped loose with sharp snaps as the crew moved at breakneck speed. The Stormmage shouted from the forecastle, voice lost under the roar of collapsing stone. Wind kicked up around the masts, enough to ripple the sails even before they fully caught the spell.

  The cave trembled again. Cracks spidered across the overhead rock. A boulder the size of a longboat slammed into the dock they had just left. Bishop looked to Kade, face pale under the growing destruction.

  "We won’t make it through the tunnel," he said. "It’s narrowing by the second."

  "We don’t have to make it through clean," Kade said. "Just alive."

  The first gust of conjured wind hit the sails, snapping the canvas into motion as the ship surged forward. Wood creaked under the strain, ropes groaned, and the deck lurched as the Talon turned toward the tunnel mouth, its narrowing walls already shedding chunks of stone into the channel.

  The sails snapped full, thunder cracking overhead as the Stormmage poured another burst of wind into the rigging. The Horizon Talon surged forward, her hull groaning under the sudden momentum. Water churned at her sides, whitecaps forming inside the narrow cavern as the ship angled into the tunnel’s mouth.

  Kade kept one hand on the rail, the other directing the crew. "Brace the foremast. Port side, trim two lines. Get that canvas under control or it’ll drag us sideways."

  The deck crew scrambled into motion. Bishop stood at the quarterdeck, relaying orders cleanly across the chaos. The remaining pirates clung to the main rail or kept to the outer walkways, doing their best to look small and out of the way.

  Briggs had taken up a position near the stern, barking at anyone too slow to move. His axe hung loose at his side, but his presence was enough to keep order. Myers lingered by the starboard ratlines, one hand on a rope, the other on absolutely nothing useful, mumbling about how everything smelled like moldy salt and death.

  "Feels like the entire mountain’s falling in. Real scenic getaway, boss."

  Webb was forward, pike pole braced against a crossbeam as he steadied a splintered support rig. Sweat soaked through his shirt, but he never looked away from the water ahead.

  Mercer moved low along the port rail, eyes locked toward the crumbling ceiling. The crossbow was gone. She carried a rigging hook now, all focus and grit.

  Behind them, the dock erupted.

  Flame and splinters tore upward as the base’s self destruct charges continued to cook off. Debris whirled through the air in smoking arcs. The sound rolled down the tunnel like a scream. A shockwave chased them into the narrowing channel, close enough that the sails caught it and shuddered.

  "Faster," Kade snapped. "Get us out before we’re part of the sea floor."

  The Stormmage raised both hands and shoved. Wind howled across the deck. The Talon surged again, keel scraping shallow as the ship entered the tunnel.

  Stone walls pressed close on either side, too narrow for comfort. Water frothed at the base. Overhead, rusted support frames groaned, warped by fire and falling debris. Kade’s gaze jumped skyward as one of the ceiling cranes shifted.

  "Cargo crane on the starboard side is coming loose," Mercer shouted.

  The massive frame slid along its twisted track. Wind from the Stormmage caught under its frame. The stress was too much. Metal shrieked, then gave way. The crane dropped.

  It missed the deck, but not entirely.

  The jutting beam at the Talon’s bow caught the edge of the falling arm. Wood cracked with a sickening snap, and the beam tore free in a spray of splinters, crashing into the water below.

  The ship pitched downward at the bow, if only for a moment.

  Pirates shouted. Myers grabbed a loose rope and yanked it taut before it could whip across the deck. Webb braced with both feet and held the forward rigging in place. Briggs cursed but didn’t move. He was already watching for the next threat.

  "Check the bow," Kade yelled. "Report damage. Midline crew, hold fast. Riggers, stay at your posts. If you fall overboard, swim hard and yell loud."

  Bishop kept his voice steady behind her.

  "We’re through in twenty seconds."

  It felt longer. The tunnel vibrated with the sound of collapse. Stone cracked and peeled away from the walls. Each impact echoed like a cannon blast. The wind drove them forward. The sails bulged. The rigging strained. Magic thickened the air until it buzzed against her skin.

  Light flared ahead. The exit.

  The Talon cleared the tunnel with feet to spare, the broken beam still trailing splinters as they shot into open sea. The sails caught the natural wind, and the ship surged out into the broad waters of Block Island Bay.

  Behind them, the cave gave out entirely.

  The roar was deafening. The tidal rush of shattered stone sealed the tunnel as the entire cliffside above the hidden dock buckled and fell inward. A plume of dust and seawater rose high into the sky, the last mark of the bay’s secret harbor.

  Silence followed, broken only by the waves and the Simulation quest notification.

  Into the Widow's Web

  Quest Completion! You’ve escaped a collapsing military base, survived experimental constructs, dodged cannon fire from opportunistic pirates, and brought Captain Voss back in one piece. The Horizon Talon is still seaworthy. Barely. Naomi Darkmoor escaped again because of course she did, but we’ll call this one a win.

  Difficulty: Impossible

  Completion Conditions: Success

  Ship Rewards: 20,000 Gold, Return of Captain Voss, Coldlock Provisions Locker, and Wayfinder's Wake Lantern

  Individual Rewards: 50 Gold, Experience, Stormbinder's Greatcoat, Leather Officer's Trousers, Leather Tricorn hat

  Kade stood at the rail, watching the cloud fade into the horizon. Her hands clenched, then relaxed.

  "Damage report, all stations. Check for wounded. Get someone on the splintered bow."

  Briggs moved first, already barking orders as he crossed the deck. Myers peeled away from the rail with a two-fingered salute that leaned more toward sarcasm than protocol. Mercer climbed halfway up the mid-mast for a clearer view of the damage, moving with the deliberate focus that came after too many close calls. Webb stayed at the forward rigging until another sailor came up to relieve him, then slipped into the shadows near the port stairs, quiet and steady.

  Kade turned to Bishop, brushing a streak of soot from her sleeve.

  "Think we've seen the last of Naomi and the Widow’s Grin?"

  He didn’t smile, just lifted one brow like the answer should’ve been obvious.

  "Nope, not even for a second." Bishop replied before continuing. "Next time, I get to blow up the base after we leave."

  There wasn’t laughter, exactly, but the tension on the deck finally cracked a notch. The deck, for the first time in what felt like hours, stopped vibrating under their boots.

  The Horizon Talon was still afloat. The sails were up, the Stormmage had wind to spare, and there was an open sea ahead.

  It wasn’t safety in their new reality under the Simulation. Not yet. But it was movement, it was distance, and it was theirs.

  But if you want to read the final chapter along with the opening chapters of Book Two early, they’re already available over on Patreon.