Manifest Fantasy

Armstrong Base, Grenden Plains

November 29, 2024

Henry stepped out of his quarters, putting on a jacket as the chill of the air nipped at his skin. The base was quiet this morning, most of the personnel probably still recovering from the Thanksgiving feast they’d shared with the Sonarans. It had been an interesting experience, blending traditions like that. The Sonarans had been fascinated by the history of the holiday, and in turn, they’d shared some of their own customs. The food had been a trip too – Henry never imagined having gravy made from the local herbs and spices.

The food ran out surprisingly quickly – in high demand by both the base personnel and the various diplomatic and scholarly staff from the numerous Sonarans who had participated. And now, it was back to basics. Henry entered the relatively empty mess hall and grabbed a plate of French toast and bacon, pairing it with a cup of coffee. He took a seat alone at one of the tables, digging into his meal as he pored over the mission briefing on his tablet. The Gatebuilder site, with its strange readings and potential for advanced technology, had been on his mind since the moment he woke up.

He noticed movement in his peripheral vision, someone approaching him. He looked up and felt his heart flutter a bit upon recognizing her vibrant purple eyes. Sera slid into the seat across from him, setting her tray down on the table with a clatter.

Henry blinked in surprise at the mountain of food she’d managed to pile onto the tray. “Uh, hungry?” he asked, eyeing the stack of pancakes, the mound of scrambled eggs, and the generous helping of bacon and sausage.

She picked up a strip of bacon and analyzed it. “I must confess, the composition of this dish is rather puzzling. But the server was quite adamant that this constituted a ‘classic American breakfast.’ I suppose it would be remiss of me not to at least try it.”

She took a tentative bite of the strip, eyes widening at the crunch and the burst of flavor. “Oh, this is quite delightful. What was this called again?”

Henry chuckled. “That’s bacon. And those,” he pointed to the sausages, “are sausages. The fluffy things are pancakes – great with butter and syrup. And the yellow stuff is scrambled eggs.”

“Well I must say, this is quite the feast,” Sera remarked. “I’m surprised a military force offers such luxuries. Typically, such a bountiful meal would be reserved for the most special of occasions, or the tables of the nobility.”

“Yeah, that’s mostly just us. We get special treatment since we’re, y’know.” Henry said, gesturing to the base outside. “The brass likes to make sure we’re well-fed. Keeps morale up when we’re far from home.”

Sera furrowed her brow, glancing out the window toward the swirling portal. “But surely, with the gateway so close at hand, you could return to your homeland with ease?”

Henry smiled, leaning back casually. “Well, yeah, but imagine the stories we’d miss out on here, the adventures. But if you’re asking for an invite,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “I’m afraid we’ll have to stick with going out in Eldralore for the time being.”

“An invitation to your world?” Sera gave an interested smile. “My, Captain, how forthright of you. Yet, you speak truly. There remain many stories yet to unfold here. And on that note…”

She trailed off, her gaze drifting towards the window again, but this time with a more distant look. “The Gatebuilders. Some claimed they were gods – the Baranthurians, too, appeared to hold them in such a light. To have the privilege of uncovering their secrets… it’s an opportunity I scarcely dreamed possible.”

Henry nodded. Sera seemed like the type to chase after tall tales and elusive legends, so it was surprising to hear her apparent passion for discovery. “Didn’t realize you were so into ancient history. Thought you were more about the thrill of the fight, the glory of the win.”

“Ah, but therein lies the true glory, my dear Captain,” she declared, voice ringing with conviction. “For what greater challenge could there be than to unravel a mystery than has confounded the ages? What greater triumph than to stand where gods once stood and to behold with my own eyes the marvels they wrought? Wouldn’t you agree, Captain?”

Henry smirked. It’s what got him excited about the Manifest Project in the first place. He never expected to see magic in the final frontier, but it was so far an enjoyable experience nonetheless. “Well, I’m of the firm belief that there’s only one true God, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in finding more about the Gatebuilders. We’ve got a saying where we’re from: ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’, and I bet my ass it ain’t any different with these guys.”

Sera canted her head, looking pensive. “The idea of a singular, all-powerful God… the concept is not wholly unfamiliar to the followers of our own gods. Sola, Lunara, Khayo, Ordos, and the others – many of their adherents hold that they are but aspects of a greater power. Could it be, perhaps, that this higher being and your God are the same entity?”

It sounded strange, but it made sense in a way. Angels were important figures on Earth, and given what Kelmithus had mentioned about a divine Man, it was likely that some knowledge and history might have been lost during the Gaerran dark ages. Or, they might truly be gods, beings alternative to angels but created for similar purposes. He couldn’t hope to guess how God might’ve set up a different universe, so he simply shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

Sera nodded. “Yes, perhaps. But I do see the wisdom in your saying. When I first bore witness to the power of your weapons, I thought, surely this must be some arcane art, some spell of unimaginable might. Imagine my surprise when I learned that these technologies were the work of man, devoid of magic. To see them rend flesh and shatter bone from distances beyond the reach of any bow and with the force of higher-tiered magic… it was a sight that defied all I knew of combat. Truly, I see what that saying means.”

Henry grinned and finished off his coffee. “But then you saw how we maintained them, how we talked about the underlying science behind them, and realized it wasn’t magic, but technology. Advanced technology.”

“Indeed, not much more conceptually different from some of the Dwarven endeavors I’ve heard about, or the products coming in from the Arthi continent,” Sera agreed. “And it makes me wonder… what must the Gatebuilder’s capabilities have been like? We have little knowledge of them outside of scant mentions in Baranthurian records and what we can see outside their impenetrable structures.”

Henry whistled lowly. “Yeah, we know they’re able to cross worlds in an instant – our being here is proof of that. I bet they’ve got a whole lot more game-changers up their sleeves. Stuff that could rewrite everything we think we know.”

“That we might be the first to lay eyes on it in thousands of years…” her voice trailed off. “It is a thrilling prospect – one that sets the very blood afire with anticipation, does it not?”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Henry agreed, standing up and stretching. “But we won’t find out by sitting around here. We’ve got one last review, and then it’s off to the races.”

Sera stood as well, grabbing her tray. “Indeed. Lead the way, Captain. Adventure awaits.”

They bussed their trays and headed out. As they walked, he tried doing the math on how a slim girl like Sera could’ve possibly managed to finish that mountain of food so easily. Did magic burn off a lot of calories or something?

They arrived at the briefing tent to find the rest of Alpha Team assembled and Kelmithus seated. A tall brunette woman with glasses stood at the front, flanked by a large screen displaying a map of the Grenden Forest. She recently joined their ranks, a Senior Intelligence Analyst who they had come to know as Captain Lara Sinclair. “Captain Donnager, Lady Seraphine. Good, you’re right on time,” she said briskly. “Let’s get started.”

“You all know your mission – investigate the Gatebuilder Excavation Site and secure any valuable intel, artifacts, what have you. Now, let’s get into the specifics.” She pointed to the map, indicating a marker within the Grenden Forest. “The site – designated GB-2 – is located here, wedged inside of a spur near the southernmost mountain. It’s 35 miles west from home, sweet home, near the end of the Grenden Neutral Zone. We’ve identified a likely entry point in this clearing, at the end of a Baranthurian road.”

She showed a set of images depicting the site itself. “Drone feeds – here are the latest snaps. As you can see, thermal and IR scans haven’t picked up any signs of life or activity. In fact, the region appears to be cooler than expected, averaging 10 degrees Fahrenheit below the surrounding regions. Synthetic aperture radar has been unable to map the Gatebuilder structures themselves, so you’ll have to map out the facility once you get there.”

She continued, swapping to an image of charts. “Now, let’s discuss the current situation. MASINT confirms highly anomalous EMF readings emanating from the site. The frequencies range from 5,000 to 10,000 milligauss, with intermittent spikes to 15,000. These readings are consistent with signatures we’ve associated with high concentrations of magical energy. Given these readings and information provided by our contacts within the Adventurers Guild and Eldralore Knight Order, we can expect the presence of significant threats – Tier 6 and higher. We’re looking at a variety of hostile creatures, most of which you’ve already encountered: goblins, fenwyrms, Rillifanes, and what have you.”

“Milligauss?” Sera asked. “I recall the term during our Hardale quest,” she said, turning to Henry. “Is that how you’re measuring mana?”

Sinclair nodded. “It’s not a direct measurement, but rather a way to quantify the electromagnetic fields that seem to correlate with high concentrations of magical energy. The Hardale readings barely exceeded 5,000 milligauss. The readings here are almost three times as powerful.”

She pressed a button, highlighting the designated route in red. “You’ll be taking this route through the forest – likely the same one the Baranthurians themselves used. It’ll take you right past the research facility you recently explored, where Zulu-9, our QRF, is stationed. Comms will likely falter near the site. If comms are compromised, use flares – we’ll look out for them on the Reaper. Red for immediate QRF, green for technical support, blue for aerial intervention. We’ve got Apache support on standby for CAS, callsign Thunder 1-2. Mark targets with smoke. You’ll likely be in close enough proximity to the Apache for comms, but it might be a bit choppy. Based on what we know about Gatebuilder engineering, their structures are nearly invincible. Still, Dr. Lamarr and the other research staff have petitioned me to request that you keep any possible damage to a minimum.”

She swapped to the next slide, which outlined their Rules of Engagement. “That brings me here. ROE are as follows: Minimize collateral damage to the site and artifacts, but you are authorized to engage as necessary. If you encounter artifacts, document their location and characteristics, and recover them if it is safe to do so. If you find an artifact that’s too dangerous to handle, mark its location for EOD to address later. Questions?”

“No ma’am,” Henry said, shaking his head.

Sera raised her hand. “What is a Cue Are Eff?”

“Quick Reaction Force,” Sinclair explained. “They’re your backup if you need help engaging a target or need extraction. Anything else?”

Sera seemed satisfied with the answer and shook her head.

“Good,” Sinclair said, turning to face the others. “Personally, I’d want to be out there sifting through that alien goldmine, but you know how it is. Good luck out there. Dismissed.”

Henry and the rest of Alpha Team filed out of the tent. “Alright, you heard the Captain,” he announced. “Gear up and let’s get moving. I want wheels up in 15.”

The preparations were rather quick, feeling no different other than the fact that they now carried Holding Bags each packed with various potions and over double the amount of ammo and equipment they could previously carry. On top of that, it weighed less than what they used to lug around. Henry couldn’t help but marvel at the bag as he packed it. It was like having a portable armory at his fingertips, everything he needed right there in a compact package.

But damn if it wasn’t trippy to actually use the thing. Every time he reached in, his brain kept expecting his arm to just keep going, to disappear into that impossible space. It was like that magic trick with the top hats and the rabbits, except instead of a fluffy bunny, he was pulling out enough firepower to level a small village.

He’d gotten a bit more used to it since their trip to Red Sail, but the vertigo still hit him every time he looked inside and saw that endless expanse. He’d heard stories of astronauts on extended missions getting used to the zero-g environment and having their cognitive senses jumbled accordingly. If their experiences could cause the abrupt dropping of objects, how might the Holding Bag’s physics-defying characteristics screw over his senses?

Well, trippy or not, he couldn’t deny the utility of the thing. Being able to carry all that gear without feeling like a pack mule was a game-changer. Shouldering the bag, he made his way over to the waiting MRAPs. The rest of the team was already there, chatting it up with the Sonarans as they conducted final checks. He climbed into the lead vehicle, settling into the CROWS control seat while Sera slid into the seat beside him. In the second MRAP, Dr. Anderson, Kelmithus, Isaac, and Ryan were similarly getting situated, stowing their gear and preparing for departure.

They pulled out of Armstrong Base, rolling through the Grenden Plains. Amidst the silence, Henry found himself gazing at the Gatebuilder towers in the distance. He tried to picture what the Gatebuilders might’ve looked like, based on the little they knew. Were they humans, like themselves and most of Gaerra? Or something completely alien, beyond anything they could imagine?

He wondered what hid within the confines of their structures. Surely they didn’t seal away a galaxy-ending parasite for research purposes, right? It spooked him to think about what they might find, but hey, that’s what they signed up for. They weren’t quite doing this for shits and giggles, but in the cosmic scheme of things, they might as well be.

“I must say,” Sera said suddenly, her voice cutting through his thoughts, “your proceedings are rather… convoluted. Every ordinance arrayed so meticulously – I’ve not seen anything like it within the Guild, where the unforeseen is oft embraced. A remarkable sight.”

Henry glanced back at her. “Oh? How are things done with the Guild?”

Sera leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “We have our own procedures, of course. The Guild maintains various guidelines and codes, as do the knightly orders. Yet, they encompass not the breadth of what you seem to have.”

Henry nodded. “Yeah, we’ve had a lot of time to get to where we are now. It might seem a bit extra, y’know, but it helps keep things from descending into chaos when the shit hits the fan.”

Sera paused, tilting her head. “When the…oh, truly, that would entail considerable disorder.”

Henry laughed. “Yeah, it’s just a saying we have back home. It means when things go wrong, and believe me, if there’s something that can go wrong, it will go wrong. And when it does, we’ve got all the protocols and structure to fall back on.”

“Then, by whom are these decisions made? Who is it that dictates each person’s role?”

Henry tapped his chest. “That would be me, but there’s other people above me. There’s a chain of command, with Captain Sinclair in the intelligence department and General Harding above her, and so on up the line. Keeps everyone uh, accountable.”

Sera was quiet for a moment, seeming to mull this over. Then, almost hesitantly, she asked, "Should someone – a Sonaran, perhaps – wish to join your party, what path would they tread?”

Henry raised an eyebrow, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Why? You thinking of signing up?”

A soft, somewhat uncertain laugh followed from Sera. “Might be I’m considering. But truly, I’m just curious. It’s so different from anything I’ve known.”

Henry gave the question some serious consideration. It wasn’t as if they didn’t have contingencies in place if such an occasion ever arose, but they didn’t think it’d happen so soon. “Well, it’d be a process. For one, you’d have to get used to following orders, even if you don’t always agree with them.”

He glanced at Sera, locking eyes with her. “I know you’ve expressed some uh, reservations about me leading the team, given our difference in Tiers. And I get it. As an adventurer, rank and experience are everything. But the same goes for us, and since Alpha Team is first and foremost a US military unit – adventurer party second – our chain of command takes precedence.”

Sera frowned slightly, even if she did understand the reasoning. “So, should I join your group, my Tier notwithstanding, I’d still be expected to… defer to your leadership?”

Henry nodded. “Yup.”

He could see Sera processing this. It was clear she was used to being in control of things, but despite that, she did show serious interest. Before she could come up with a response, their line to Armstrong Base lit up.

“Overwatch to Alpha Team, do you copy?”

Henry pressed the PTT button on his helmet. “Alpha Team here. We copy, Overwatch. Go ahead.”

“Be advised, Overwatch has ISR assets reporting visual on a civilian caravan one klick west of your current position, moving towards your vicinity. Assessment suggests it’s a local merchant caravan, escorted by adventurers. Sending visual feed. How copy?”

“Solid copy, Overwatch,” Henry acknowledged, analyzing the intel provided to him. He saw five wagons, escorted by a group of around ten adventurers. “Proceeding with caution. Any intel on cargo or affiliations? Over.”

There was a brief pause before the response came through. “Negative, Alpha Team. No actionable intel on cargo or affiliations at this time. Recommend visual confirmation. Over.”

Henry rubbed his chin. There was only one major player to the immediate west – the Nobian Empire. Were these guys Sonaran merchants returning from a journey, or was this how the Nobians conducted their infiltration? “Acknowledged, Overwatch. We’ll give you a heads up.”

“Acknowledged, Alpha Team. Overwatch maintains surveillance support. Advise if you require assistance. Overwatch out.”

Henry turned to face the MRAP behind them, looking out the back window. “Y’all get that?”

“Loud and clear, Cap,” Isaac responded. “What’s the play?”

“We’ll make contact, but keep it brief,” Henry decided. “Owens, find us a good spot to pull over. Kel, you’re with me and Sera; we’ll be making the approach.”

As Ron pulled over, Henry and Sera exited the vehicle. Linking up with Kelmithus, they walked towards the approaching caravan and stood in the center of the narrow dirt road. As the caravan drew closer, Henry could make out more details, confirming the data he’d received from Overwatch.

“Tier 5 adventurers, predominantly,” Kelmithus pointed out.

Henry gave their gear a cursory look-over. He probably couldn’t have told from a first glance, but he could see how Kelmithus knew. Their gear looked like basic stuff out of Steelforged – nothing at all like the fancy products from higher-end shops like Mithrilforged.

The lead wagon slowed to a stop, a distance of about a basketball court away from them, with sounds that fell somewhere between a hiss and a neigh coming from the dradaks. The driver eyed them warily, his eyes growing wide at the sight of the MRAPs. A door in the lead wagon opened up as a well-dressed merchant stepped out of it. Taking one of the adventurers, he approached Henry.

“Hail, travelers,” he called out with a slightly apprehensive – almost inquisitive – voice. “What ventures lead you hither?”

Henry stepped forward, offering a wave. “Just passing through,” he said with a smile. “Saw your caravan and thought we’d check in, make sure everything’s alright.”

The man’s wariness seemed to ease a bit, although this was more likely due to the presence of Sera and Kelmithus than it was to his friendliness. “Ah, your concern warms the heart. Truth be told, our journey’s been none too gently of late.”

The adventurer he brought with him, a tall, lean man with a sword at his hip, stepped forward. “By the heavens,” he breathed, “Lady Seraphine and Archmage Kelmithus, an honor it is to stand amidst such company.” He gave a slight bow.

Sera smiled, inclining her head in acknowledgment. “The honor is ours, good sir. But do tell, what troubles have befallen your caravan?”

The merchant whispered to the adventurer. If Henry had to guess, he probably said something along the lines of, ‘Do you know who they are?’ After conferring with the adventurer, the merchant relaxed a bit more and explained, “Our paths were bound for Hactis, a Nobian city to the west. Prosperous trade awaited, weeks in the making. Yet, not a day past did we encounter our plight.”

Henry exchanged a glance with Sera. “What do you mean?”

The merchant’s demeanor became slightly distressed as he recounted his experiences. “A fog descended upon us… unbidden! We were beset by a sudden chill, then a dense fog enveloped us. And the clamor… by heavens, striking were the sounds we heard – colder than the chill itself.”

The adventurer nodded grimly. “Aye, ‘twas like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Howls, screeches, unsoundly shrieks of a creature in torment. And through the fog was there a massive beast, though only its shadow we’ve seen.”

Henry frowned. A mysterious fog, anomalous temperature readings… it didn’t sound good. “Did you get a good look at it?” he asked.

The merchant shook his head. “Nay, nothing seen; the fog swallowed all vision. Yet, from the shadow it cast, vast beyond reckoning, it might well have been a beast of legends, a Tier 10 dragon, I daresay. Such as the one spoken of lately, the target of the latest Campaign!”

The adventurer held up a hand. “Aye, Tier 10 might be stretching the tale. More like Tier 8 or 9, I’d wager.” He turned back to Henry, “But make no mistake, even at that, it’s a formidable beast.”

“And then what happened?” Kelmithus asked.

The merchant sighed. “We bid a swift retreat, that’s the truth of it. The entire caravan turned on its heels, making for the opposite direction with due haste. Bound for Hactis by the longer route do we now find ourselves, all in the name of sidestepping any shadow of that menace.”

He continued, “Unnatural is the touch of ice there. A darkness, a foulness resides in whatever place that creature has laid claim to. Whatever you’re looking for, ‘tis not worth the risk.”

“We appreciate the warning,” Henry said, “but our quest is important.”

The merchant looked at them for a long moment, then exhaled heavily. “Your minds seem set, then. But heed this plea: venture carefully. Should that fog-bound beast find you, think not of valor. Instead, choose flight. Survival is the greater part of valor here.”

Henry appreciated the man’s concern. “We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the information, and good luck on your journey to Hactis.”

The merchant offered a weary smile in return. “Luck be with you too, on your path. May the gods grant you their favor.”

After the merchant left to board his wagon, Henry turned to Sera and Kelmithus. “Facing our first dragon, huh? Sounds fun.”

Kelmithus smiled. “An exciting prospect indeed, but no more exciting than what we might discover after slaying the beast.”

Henry led Sera and Kelmithus back to the MRAPs, allowing the caravan to pass through on the road. Climbing back into his vehicle, Henry updated Armstrong. “Overwatch, Alpha Team. We’ve made contact with the caravan. They reported encountering Tier 8 or 9 fauna in the fog, possibly a dragon. Advise updating mission parameters and threat assessment. Over.”

“Overwatch copies, Alpha Team,” came the response. “ISR confirms increased electromagnetic interference in your AO. Threat level updated. Recommend proceeding with extreme caution. Thunder 1-2 is on standby for immediate support if needed. Over.”

“Copy, Overwatch. Alpha Team out.”

As they continued their journey, the narrow dirt road merged into a wider, decrepit Baranthurian road. The ancient asphalt – or whatever they used – still held together. What sort of techniques they used to compact and pave them must’ve been incredibly advanced. Was it possible that they learned some insights from the Gatebuilders? Maybe. After all, it was what they wanted to do as well.

The silhouette of a tower in the distance came into view, its angular form juxtaposing the jagged edges of the surrounding mountains. The deeper they ventured into the forest, the closer the tower got, and the more the temperature seemed to drop. It was gradual at first, barely noticeable, but as they pressed on, the change became more pronounced.

Henry rubbed his finger against the window, wiping at a thin layer of condensation to peer out into the forest. That’s when he noticed the fog, which – as far as he could tell – appeared out of nowhere. Initially, he could make out the shapes of trees and the winding path ahead for half a mile, the visibility dimming but still discernible. Just a few minutes later, the fog thickened rapidly. It swallowed the landscape in a gray blanket until he could scarcely see beyond the hood of the MRAP, visibility dropping to less than 100 meters.

As the fog intensified, so too did the magical energy in the area. Henry glanced at the readings on the EMF meter beside him, watching as the numbers climbed steadily higher.

“Be advised,” he reported over local comms, “EMF readings are up to 10,000 milligauss. Expect potential interference with long-range comms.”

“Copy that, Cap,” Isaac’s voice crackled back, the signal still holding strong between the two MRAPs. “We’re seeing the same on our end. Overwatch, do you copy?”

There was no response from Overwatch, as expected. He continued to scan the forest through the CROWS, the thermal imaging struggling against the dense fog. No threats popped up as they approached the clearing, but Henry managed to catch wind of something peculiar. The condensation on the windows grew worse, frost beginning to spread across the glass. At the same time, the fog thickened, as if tied to the dropping temperature.

As if? What if it was? Henry recalled what he knew about fog formation. Fog was essentially a cloud at ground level, formed when water vapor condensed into liquid water droplets in the air. This usually happens when the air cools to its dew point, which could be triggered by a variety of factors – mixing of different air masses, cooling of the ground and ambient air, or even an increase in humidity. For all intents and purposes, all of these could be brought upon through the use of magic. And if magic could cause it, couldn’t it also reverse it?

“Kelmithus,” he called out over their comms as the MRAPs slowed down, “You can control temperature, right? Is that how you’re able to make fireballs?”

“Indeed so,” Kelmithus responded. “Have you a plan?”

He didn’t know much about magic, and the dossiers certainly didn’t cover anything like this, but he needed this hail mary to work. “Can you manipulate the temperature of a specific area, like the width of the road around our vehicles?”

Kelmithus paused for a moment. “I – Yes, I can try. What would you have me do?”

There wasn’t enough time to calculate or run simulations. He’d have to stick with the basic principles. “Let’s uh, let’s start with room temperature – 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Raise the temperature outside to room temperature, but gradually; 5 degrees per minute. If that’s too precise for you to gauge, just do it as consistently as you can.”

“Understood,” Kelmithus confirmed, followed by the sound of a hatch popping. “I shall begin now.”

Henry then turned to Sera and addressed her. “Sera, once Kelmithus starts raising the temperature, I need you to use your wind magic to help disperse the fog.” He helped open the roof hatch on their MRAP, the freezing air outside seeping in. “Gentle, just enough to help the warmer air mix with the colder air. Oh, and keep your helmet on. Might be uncomfortable for your ears, but it’s better than going deaf.”

“Very well.” Sera positioned herself under the hatch and readied herself. “I await your signal.”

Henry gave the order, and the two Sonarans began their work. He could feel the chill slowly recede as the air around them got warmer. Kelmithus didn’t have a thermometer to work with, but the result was as gradual and consistent as he could expect from simple intuition. Simultaneously, Sera created a soft breeze that swirled around the clearing. The circulation looked like it was working. The warm air from Kelmithus’ efforts mixed with the cooler, fog-laden air, gradually thinning the mist.

However, there remained the possibility that this fog was present for a reason, and that whatever created the fog wouldn’t be too happy about it suddenly disappearing. “Owens, Hayes, keep circling ‘round the clearing.”

Henry kept a close eye on his display. The fog was still thick, but he could clearly see the treeline at the edges of the clearing now, and the entrance to the Gatebuilder structure. He allowed himself a small smile. It was working. The plan, unconventional as it was, was actually working. Scientific knowledge to enhance magic… who would have thought?

But the smile quickly faded as a guttural rumble cut through the dissipating fog, a sound far more terrifying than what he’d seen come from T-Rexes in a theater. It wasn’t natural. Well, maybe for this world it was, but it didn’t sound real at all.

“Contact,” Henry reported. “Unknown contact at the treeline, southeast from the entrance.”

Another rumble echoed through the clearing, closer this time. Henry could feel the vibrations through the chassis of the MRAP.

“There!” Sera shouted, “South, by our path in!”

Henry swung the CROWS toward their ingress point – the Baranthurian road that led to the clearing. He strained to see through the mist. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, a shadow flickered between the trees. It was serpentine and massive, a bit over two stories tall and somewhere between an Olympic-size swimming pool and a commercial airliner in length.

“Unknown hostile, engaging!” Henry called out, aligning the targeting on his CROWS with the creature’s midsection.

He opened fire, sending .50 cal rounds and grenades toward the treeline. Most of the rounds ricocheted off its scales, but a few found their mark, drawing spurts of dark blood. The grenades did their work in chipping away at the scales, but he didn’t think they were enough. They might as well be shooting at a tank with a BB gun.

The creature recoiled, a screech of pain and anger that almost drowned out the sounds of gunfire and explosions. Judging from the relatively minor damage they’d inflicted, it was probably more out of anger. With a speed that defied its size, it whipped around and headed straight for his MRAP.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit!” Ron called out, jerking the wheel in an attempt to avoid the strike.

The tail grazed the side of their vehicle, the force of the impact sending a shudder throughout the MRAP. Henry held on to Sera’s leg, keeping her grounded.

“It’s a Lindwyrm!” Sera shouted. “A Sentinel Lindwyrm!”

This was the first time he ever heard genuine concern in her voice. Sentinel Lindwyrm… Henry gritted his teeth. This was a Tier 9 monster. Even between the TOW missiles and the Switchblade 600 sitting in its mounted launch tube, he wasn’t sure if that was something they could handle.

“Doc,” Henry said over the comms, “Send up a blue flare. I repeat, blue flare.”

“On it!” Dr. Anderson replied.

Through the CROWS feed, Henry saw a door open, followed by a hand aiming a flare gun into the air. His order materialized as the flare rocketed skyward, a brilliant blue streak against the gray clouds.

The Lindwyrm, meanwhile, seemed to be changing its tactics. It gave up on trying to slam into the MRAPs and instead retreated back to the treeline, raising its two frontal limbs. The fog began to swirl, coalescing into small objects shimmering around its head. Was it… casting a spell?

The fog dissipated even faster, allowing Henry to land more hits on the thing. Removing the fog should’ve been a good thing, but something didn’t seem right. Suddenly, a barrage of icicles emerged from the treeline, launching towards the vehicles with incredible speed.

The MRAPs swerved, but there were too many, coming too fast. Sera managed to deflect one away from herself, but it damaged the switchblade mount. Looking outside, Henry watched as several icicles slammed into Ryan’s MRAP, the impacts resonating through the vehicle’s frame. He could see the aftermath of the attack. Kelmithus’ instinctive defensive magic seemed to have kept him unharmed, but the vehicle itself, not so much. The armor held, but barely, deep dents forming in the crumpled metal. One of the icicles had hit the window on Isaac’s side, blinding his left.

“We’re hit!” Ryan reported. “No casualties, but vision on our left is compromised!”

“Fuck,” Henry swore under his breath. The Lindwyrm was adapting, using its magic to attack from a distance. Another hit like that could disable Ryan’s MRAP. They needed to end this as soon as possible. Luckily, the attack didn’t come without downsides. In siphoning the nearby water to form the icicles, the Lindwyrm was now clearly visible through the trees.

“Hayes, status on the TOW?” he asked as he laid down some suppressive fire on the Lindwyrm. The rounds and grenades didn’t do much, but at least they drew attention away from Ryan’s damaged MRAP.

“Need a line of sight! We gotta draw it closer to the clearing!”

How were they gonna do that? The creature was smart enough to use the trees for cover, but like all predators, it had to go after its prey eventually. He needed to bait it out. An idea formed in his mind. It was risky, but they couldn’t just sit around and take another hit waiting for the Apache to get here.

“Owens, I need you to drive toward the treeline. Get as close as you can, then slow down.”

“Uh, repeat that last?” Ron asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

“We need to lure the Lindwyrm out for a clear shot. Slow down near the treeline to bait it out, then floor it. Once it’s clear of the trees, Hayes can take the shot. Sera, once it jumps at us, I’ll need you to hit it with a spell – anything and everything you’ve got.”

There was a moment of silence as Ron rested his forearms on the steering wheel. “Copy that. I hope you know what you’re doing, dude.”

“Eloquently said, Lieutenant,” Sera agreed.

“Yeah, you and me both,” Henry sighed. “Execute.”

Ron gunned the engine, the MRAP lurching forward with a roar. They sped towards the treeline, positioning themselves directly ahead of Ryan’s MRAP, Ron angling the vehicle for a quick getaway. Henry could see the Lindwyrm shifting in the trees, preparing to attack.

They were closing the distance rapidly. 50 meters. 30 meters. 20 meters.

“Steady,” Henry said.

More of the surrounding fog began condensing into icicles, the beast rearing back as if readying itself for a pounce.

“Go!” Henry shouted as the monster lunged forward.

Ron slammed his foot on the gas, wrenching the wheel and causing the MRAP to swerve violently away from the treeline. At the same moment, Henry opened fire on its head while Sera unleashed a bolt of lightning at it.

The beast recoiled, its icicle attack going wide and shattering harmlessly against the trees and the ground. It let out a roar, no doubt pissed off at Henry’s MRAP. Overtaken by its emotion, it charged out of the trees with terrifying speed. It was frightening, but also heartening – this was exactly what Henry wanted to see.

“Hayes, now!” he yelled over the comms.

“Yup,” Ryan responded. “TOW away!”