After introducing me to the team, Nyla wasted no time in starting the evacuation. We left my cell behind and I caught a whiff of fresh air for the first time in weeks. It wasn’t the imprisonment that had pained me most; it was the loss of what I’d just regained. The sun, the wind, the smell of anything other than stone wet with blood. And finally it was within my grasp again.

  I let the warm wind sooth me as I inhaled. The others looked at me as if I’d gone mad. They didn’t know the sort of pain that I did, only Nyla seemed to understand. A broken city sprawled out around us, not the same one we stepped into weeks ago, it had deteriorated even further. The struggles were much closer now than they had been then. Buildings that had once been tall now littered the ground and closed off streets, making navigating the maze of a city a dreadful chore. But the squad had information that was mostly up to date, and we didn’t find ourselves retreading the same path more than a few times.

  This had been a lively bazaar once. Colours of all kinds and smells of spices and food captured the hearts of the kids as we walked through it when we first arrived. It had felt like a nucleus of life then. None of that could be seen as we stepped through the rubble. None of the scents could be smelled. The only noise still flowing through the snaking streets was that of war.

  Gunfire crackled in the distance. I didn’t know what they were fighting, but I had a pretty good guess that it was some sort of scourge beasts. The whispered cultists wouldn’t take so many bullets to put down, even from the mundane weapons the military carried. Hell, even I felt the hair on my neck tingle when Nyla pointed hers at me.

  I glanced around at the others, they didn’t quite trust me yet and let me walk in the middle of the formation so that the soldiers could keep an eye on me at all times. I wore my armour again, along with all my weapons and clothes, save for the rifle. I didn’t want to scare the regular people by carrying a magical gun while all the others bore medieval weaponry.

  My clothes and armour all fit like a second skin, and I felt naked when I didn’t wear them in the cell. This was much better. It hadn’t struck me yet how used I’d grown to wearing the armour. It made me feel safe knowing I could activate skin stitching whenever I needed.

  The clothes also made me stick out from the others like a sore thumb. I looked like a militaristic mental ward escapee surrounded by a bunch of guards. They wore tactical vests and black military fatigues. All of them were blessed, save for a part of the group that consisted of civilian personnel. Scientists sent to measure the spread of the veil, doctors to help the wounded fighting back against the approaching scourge.

  I was the only Unsung in our merry band of soldiers and military personnel, the others were all whispers, save for Nyla who was obviously at minimum one rank higher than me.

  Samara and the others had told me that reaching the unsung stage was actually quite uncommon, I hadn’t expected it to be so bad that even military forces consisted mainly of whispered fighters. But it sure did explain why they so desperately needed a way to transport me.

  Only Nyla dared walk close to me. No doubt Daryl had told the others of my show of force. It made me cringe in embarrassment to have been disarmed so easily, but the others seemed more concerned with the ease of which I disarmed Daryl than how easily Nyla disarmed me.

  She kept blabbering about what celebrities did while I was gone, as if the world revolved around them. Every time I asked about the spread of corruption and the scourge she dodged the question masterfully.

  “Anyway,” she said and locked her fingers behind her back and bent forward to catch my eyes with hers. “What’s your deal? You live in France with that posh accent?”

  I grunted, but she didn’t stop staring. She wouldn’t take it for an answer.

  “My grandmother felt it more appropriate to send me there. To help me heal, she said.”

  “What from?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Come on! Don’t be like that,” she complained and threw her arms into the air with indignation. “We’re going to spend a lot of time together, might as well get to know one another.”

  I clicked my tongue. “But you already know, don’t you?”

  She stopped in her tracks and blinked as if shocked I would even suggest such a thing. When I didn’t break my stride she discarded the farce with a chuckle.

  “I mean, I do. But I’d prefer hearing it from you than reading about it in the stale intelligence reports. I mean we’ve got a bloody damn Kane walking among us! Brushing shoulders with celebrity and all that.”

  All around us, people jerked stiff. That got their attention. She hadn’t shared that part about me yet.

  I sighed. “There’s really not much to it. Before losing my parents we didn’t talk much, she didn’t like my dad very much, and for good reason, obviously. I moved in with her after the others… you know.”

  “And then she sent you to France. Didn’t get along, did you?”

  The circle around us grew tighter, even the scared shitless civilians listened in. I realized then that Nyla wasn’t asking to be a dick, she just wanted to help me fit in. I didn’t need their pity, but it couldn’t hurt either, even if I was happy enough just being back.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “She’s not a woman you get along with, not like family should be. She wanted a pawn to move, not a grieving child. I was never cut out to be her puppet. She’s got other less fucked up grandkids that can play that part.”

  “Oh yeah, then what are you?”

  In the distance, the veil shuddered. I noticed it even before Nyla and the groups scout, Quinn. But she wasn’t far behind in feeling it—or rather smelling it.

  “I am a grenade,” I said with a wicked smile and activated Burst.

  Pieces of the broken cement road cracked, and smattered onto those walking in the back. A banner bearing the name of an old shop flapped as I blitzed past. A gasp reached me even as I unsheathed my blade and slashed. The cold steel of my old sword cut through the air with a high pitched whistle.

  I couldn’t help enjoying the moment. Somehow this had become my normal state of being, the Cal who fights.

  I barely had time to see what I was cutting at before the blade met flesh. A crude amalgamation of magic and dog whimpered in response before it went silent forever more. I tuned in to the threads of the veil surrounding me. There were no more. The creature was a curious thing, and I tilted my head as I squatted next to it to get a better look.

  It most definitely looked like a dog. One with overgrown teeth that stuck out from its upper lip and curved menacingly.

  I liked dogs, and it hurt me to hear it whimper before death. But it was me or it, and I’d killed other people over the same dilemma, monster dogs wouldn’t weigh heavy on my conscience any time soon.

  “Damn, you really are quick! How’d you spot it?” Nyla ran up and asked.

  “None of your business,” I mumbled in response and pushed the body to its back with my foot. It flopped around lifelessly.

  “Tsk, no fun.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at her complaint, even as I looked at the dead monster. Its legs were malformed and twisted backward at the joint. Corruption had taken it.

  This was my first time seeing anything like it. In the Layered empire all we fought were people of some kind. There was a certain kind of security that came with fighting people, or at the very least humanoids. They moved like me, thought like me, planned like me. Dogs didn’t do any such thing, nor did other animals.

  The very thought of being attacked by a flock of murderous monster birds made me shiver.

  “You see things like this a lot?” I pointed at the dog with my sword.

  She nodded. “We call these ones fangs, for obvious reasons.”

  “Ooh, how creative.”

  “Whatever, Kane. There’s much worse things too. The reason we don’t use helicopters are the damn birds. Some are as large as cars, I shit you not.”

  My worst nightmare. The safety of Earth was slipping through our fingers.

  “Is it the same everywhere?”

  “Nah, it’s worse where corruption leaks. Some countries were hit worse than others, Turkey worst of all. Any idea as to why?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

  And I did, so I chuckled nervously and scratched my neck.

  “Is this what you’ve all been fighting?” I ask the others to escape the question. Nyla’s eyes lingered on me for a beat before moving to the others.

  Most shifted uncomfortably at my question, safe for a few. The scout, Quinn, among them, along with her a scientist and his assistant looked overjoyed at the question.

  Quinn looked quizzically at me. “How the hell did you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Notice before me. My blessing is made for this shit.”

  “Huh, weird…” I mutter.

  “The fuck’s weird?”

  “I thought I just told Nyla it was none of your damn business.”

  She raised her eyebrow at that and Nyla clutched her belly as she laughed. Even Daryl’s lips twitched in an attempt to smile before he managed to exert control over them.

  Quinn raised her chin and looked down her nose at me. She grabbed her hips and clicked her tongue. She was tall, much taller than me. “Funny guy, eh?”

  I shrugged. “I try.”

  “Good,” she said and smiled. “I like funny guys.”

  Without warning she stepped forward and gave me a heavy clap on the back and moved to join Nyla in the front. The formation started moving again.

  “Let the rest know if you notice anything next time,” Quinn hollered from the front.

  I rubbed my back. She had a heavy hand. It would leave a bruise, but I couldn’t hold it against her. The slap made me feel welcomed.

  The professor and his assistant scurried away from the safety of the group to walk with me in the middle of them all.

  “Curious sort, are they not?” He was an old man, his crown devoid of hair, but the rest he kept long. He wore small glasses and had a hunched back, one that you’d get from spending your days leaning over a small screen.

  I threw the dog one last glance. “They are. Never saw anything like it in the forgotten lands. Even the rats were normal.”

  He hummed. “There must have been plenty of good corruptible options around then. You see, corruption sticks to the best alternative it can. Here,” he said and waved at the city, “where everyone has already evacuated or …” he let the words linger before continuing. “It has no choice but to cling to animals.”

  It made sense. The Layered empire didn’t have the luxury of evacuation. They were caught between the Outsider and the Legions. Even in the end they’d chosen to defy the deities of their world, knowing the ruin it would bring.

  The assistant pushed his glasses up his nose. “What did you fight if not animals?”

  “People mostly. Dead ones, fused ones, crazed ones, fanatic ones. You’d be surprised at the variety, really. Oh, and a snake-person-monster.”

  His eyes lit up. “Zombies?!”

  “Uh, yeah. I guess. Though we called ’em stumblers. Because they couldn’t see and, well, they stumbled a lot.”

  Nyla scoffed in front. “And you give me crap for not being creative. That’s rich.”

  “Yeah well I wasn’t the first to see them, so the naming right went to someone else.”

  “Did they eat brains?” the assistant asked.

  I turned back to him. “No, not that I’m aware of.”

  “Then they weren’t zombies.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Is eating brains required for something to be a zombie?”

  His nostrils flared and he took a deep breath.

  “Shut up back there,” Quinn ordered. I was about to quip about a whisper ordering me around when I felt it too.

  The dog hadn’t been alone—far from it. There were hundreds. And they were approaching fast.

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