Two weeks of trudging through the Hellzone had hardened our large group. The survivors no longer huddled together at every sound, no longer flinched when corrupted beasts emerged from the wastes. They'd learned to fight back.

  I watched Mallie demonstrate proper bow grip to three other children. Her freckled face stayed focused as she adjusted their stances. The weapons we'd taken from Qordos had served us well: crude swords, spears, even a few crossbows. When those weren't enough, I crafted more using Assembly and materials from my Depository.

  "Corrupted boar, north ridge!" The warning call came from one of our scouts.

  My mechanical body pivoted, joints whirring. Through empty eye sockets, I spotted the creature: twice the size of a normal boar, its hide crackling with unnatural energy. Before I could move, five of the former prisoners had already formed a sort of defensive line, weapons ready.

  They worked together quite roughly, with two with spears frantically keeping the beast at bay while the others attempted to flank it. Despite this, the former slaves' persistence paid off and the boar died quickly. Pride swelled in my chest as I watched them strip the carcass for useful parts.

  "We're getting better at this," Harke said, appearing beside me. "Though I wish we didn't have to."

  I sent my thoughts to him through Mind Speech.

  Hellzone. Gives no choice. Fight or die. At least. They can defend themselves. Better.

  Each day brought new threats. Packs of those dog-rat hybrids. Swarms of corrupted bats. Even a bear-like creature with too many limbs. But we adapted. The survivors learned to watch each other's backs, to move as units rather than individuals.

  My mechanical body needed constant maintenance. The harsh terrain wore down joints, snapped cables. Each night I repaired myself, using Assembly to reshape metal and reinforce weak points. The work kept my mind off darker thoughts, like why these lands felt so familiar, or why the word "Primordial" haunted my broken memories.

  "No Eyes!" A child's voice pulled me from my repairs. One of the younger boys, Derek, ran up, holding out a twisted piece of metal. "Found this. Thought you might need it."

  I accepted his offering through Mind Speech. Thank you. He didn't run away like before, just nodded and rejoined his friends.

  The changes were subtle but real. Many survivors still avoided me, but others had begun to accept my presence. They'd seen me fight alongside them, protect them. Monster or not, I was part of their group now.

  A week ago, we'd faced our largest threat, a horde of those dog-creatures, at least thirty strong. The battle lasted mere minutes but felt like hours. Two of our number died and were five injured, but we prevailed. I helped dig the graves myself, my mechanical arms working tirelessly while others spoke prayers I couldn't voice.

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  Now we moved as a hardened unit. Scouts ranging ahead and behind. Fighters protecting our flanks. Even the children had roles, gathering useful materials or helping tend to injuries. We were no longer escaped slaves fleeing through hostile territory.

  We were survivors.

  Through my non-existent eyes, I watched two of our members, a married couple from Weath, rest against a fallen tree trunk. The husband sighed, running a hand through his dirt-streaked hair.

  "Shame we can't get any experience from all this fighting," he said. "Being a Farmer class is useful back home, but here?" He shook his head.

  His wife nodded. "At least the children are gaining levels. System's more generous with them."

  I shifted my gears, the motion drawing their attention. They didn't flinch anymore; it was progress. My thoughts drifted to Mallie, who'd just reached level 5 after our last skirmish with a pack of corrupted wolves. The System had presented her with class options, and I'd expected her to choose Hunter. It seemed a natural fit; less combat-focused, more about tracking and survival.

  But she'd picked Archer instead.

  Why that choice? I asked her through Mind Speech. Thought you didn't want. To be warrior.

  Mallie adjusted the bow I'd made her, her freckled face serious. "I don't like fighting. Not after..." She glanced at the other children, remembering Tommy. "But these people need protecting. Need to get home safe. An Archer can do that better than a Hunter."

  Her green eyes met where mine should have been. "I can help more people survive this way. That's what matters."

  And War Academy? I asked. Will you still go?

  She shrugged, checking her bowstring. "Don't know yet. Got to get everyone home first."

  The determination in her made me smile, a warm lump forming in my throat.

  The attacks grew less frequent as we pressed on. First the larger beasts stopped appearing, then even the corrupted rats became scarce. Soon we found ourselves trudging through an endless expanse of gray dirt and lifeless soil. The featureless plain stretched to the horizon, broken only by our ragged line of travelers.

  Days passed. The dirt turned to thick mud that clung to boots and slowed our progress. I watched the group's spirits sink lower with each struggling step. Even Mallie's usual determination wavered as we slogged through the muck.

  The sameness of it all wore on everyone. No monsters to fight meant no distractions from the monotony. Conversations died. Songs fell silent. The children stopped playing their makeshift games.

  I kept my mechanical body moving, though the mud threatened to seize up my joints. Every few hours I had to stop and clear the worst of it from my gears. The survivors passed me without comment, their eyes fixed on the ground.

  "Look!" A child's shrill voice pierced the gloom. "Look, look!"

  I turned my head, weapons ready, but there was no threat. One of the younger boys pointed frantically at something near his feet.

  A tuft of grass poked through the gray mud. Not the sickly, twisted vegetation of the Hellzone, but real grass. Vibrant green stems swayed in the breeze.

  Nothing natural grew in the Hellzone. Nothing truly alive could take root in its corrupted soil.

  The realization hit the group like a wave. We had made it. We had escaped.

  Cheers erupted around me. People fell to their knees, touching the grass with trembling fingers. Others embraced, tears streaming down their faces. Some simply stood there, overwhelmed by the sight of something so simple as a living plant.

  Harke dropped his medical bag and sat heavily in the mud, shoulders shaking as he wept. Mallie hugged her bow to her chest, grinning through her tears.

  We had survived the Lodrik Hellzone. Against all odds, we had made it back to the lands of humanity.