The shield station occupied a natural plateau that had been further smoothed by engineers. From the outside, it resembled a rectangular building surrounded by stone walls and defensive perimeters. Several trenches and bunkers dotted the northern clearing, and far away, the air itself trembled as a result of the ever-active force shield. The gates leading inside were on the eastern side of the facility, near the only road. From there, Aranea could see several sentry towers on the mountain's rim with their projectors currently turned off.

As the truck drew nearer to the station's entrance, several drones flew from the walls and scanned the vehicle before the massive gates opened. Aranea and her pack jumped out and were greeted by two familiar faces.

One was Sergeant Alek, back in action and wearing a sand-colored camouflage uniform. Underneath it, he sported a lighter model of power armor used by Normies during reconnaissance missions. All signs of rejection of his artificial skin and implants had disappeared, and his biological flesh had seamlessly merged with the implants. Droplets of sweat glistened in the light of his lenses, often forming small trickles that disappeared under his collar.

To his right, gifting him a slight relief of shadow, stood Lieutenant Marveni Ursico, clad in the black carapace of a combat suit that Aranea had seen back in Fort Uglo. The upper part of the suit, where a head should have been, was open, exposing the man's shoulders and neck. A strange, transparent substance covered his face and neck, and black wires burrowed into his temples, connecting him to the suit. Not a single drop of sweat marked his face, yet the bright color of his skin had vanished, turning pale. Aranea worried whether the man had fainted when he smiled broadly and raised a hand in salute.

"Wolf Hag, glad to see we're still kicking." He bared his neck, and Aranea stood at attention. She put on her helmet and saluted both men, using a gesture common among Normie troops. In response, Alek tried to bare his throat as well.

"Don't mock our tradition," Scarred One grumbled. "Ask yourself, how am I supposed to bite you without ripping out your lower jaw when your head is so low? Higher. Put it higher. No, not like that. Do you want to twist your neck or something?" She shook her head in disgust. "Barbarian."

"I'm sure he means well," Aranea said, tapping at her belt. The shaman got the cue and bowed to the sergeant in apology. "Lieutenant Ursico, Wolf Hag Aranea is here to serve!"

"At ease, Wolf Hag." Ursico's legs bent backwards, shifting the suit's weight to let him appear more casual. "There was a… promotion of sorts for you at the request of a certain someone." His eyes found Leila. "You now have the same authority as me. Congratulations on more busywork and better pay."

By the Blessed Mother's decisions and the state's law, Wolfkins of the Wolf Tribe were located at the very bottom of the command structure's totem pole, unless they were willing to abandon traditions. Exceptions happened, of course. The Siege of Houstad was one such exception, when the Wolf Tribe took over the defense. But under normal circumstances, even the warlords bowed to the captains and strategists of the Third. For a mere young idiot such as her to be equal to a lieutenant was strange.

Is it one of Murzaliev's plots? Or His Excellency's way of rewarding loyalty?

"Command honors me with their decision," Aranea answered, removing the helmet. "Yet I have no formal military training suited to guide your men. Organizing logistics, placing defenses, and leading non-Wolfkins are foreign to me. I'm better suited to breaking through stuff. I would prefer you to remain in charge. Of course, all credit is yours."

"Never been one to care about promotions," Ursico shrugged. His suit echoed the movement with a low whine of motors. "Let's go inside before our brave yet stubborn sergeant boils out here like an egg." His large hand gestured, inviting the gathering to follow.

Three more oval mechanical suits rested behind the front gates. Their pilots prepared to stand at attention, but Ursico waved at them to continue relaxing. Two drone carriers, long armored vehicles traversing on caterpillar tracks, waited to release their UAVs, visible through the open hulls. People staffed the place, and at each step, Aranea encountered either soldiers in power armor on patrol or engineers in exoskeletons accompanied by mechanical drones carrying tools. A group of workers cursed as they installed anti-aircraft guns.

"Pardon the mess, we're just settling in here." Ursico nodded at the suits and the pilots hesitating to leave them. At last, two men and a woman leapt out, landing on shaky legs. "With so many New Breeds popping up among the Resistance forces, Command decided we should switch from tanks to X-015 suits. It takes quite a while to adjust to them in addition to further complications." He pointed at the wires in his temples. "To us, the clarity given by the system is amazing. To have omnidirectional vision, to hear everything… It's addictive and stressful for an organism. Not everyone can handle it, and a return to the limits of one's body is a serious rebound, so I take care in the trainings."

"We call them deliverers," hushed Alek. "Cause when you see these beauties working in narrow spaces at the optimal distance... boy, do they pack a punch."

"The male will remain silent while the leaders speak. Show utmost respect to your superior," growled Scarred One.

"We'll need to find a way to loosen you up…" The shaman crossed the distance to the walking Alek in five steps, appearing in front of her in the blink of an eye. Even Aranea could only see a blur of her movements. For Normies, it must have appeared as teleportation. "Hey, the offer still stands," Alek continued with brazen unabashedness, raising his hands in peace. "Join me in a drinking contest. Want to prove how tough you are? Let's test you."

"Savage." Scarred One sized up the man, planning to discipline him through biting.

"Shaman. Will you bring shame to our pack by refusing a challenge?" Aranea asked, breaking up the fight from happening.

"My apologies, Wolf Hag." Scarred One suddenly became embarrassed. "I can't accept the challenge in good conscience. While my inevitable victory is never in doubt, it's customary among Normies for the loser to pay for every contestant."

And how do you know about it, I wonder? A fiery youth?

"Shamans do not receive tokens for our services. Should I lose, which is impossible, I have nothing to pay with."

"Sergeant. Since you're in such high spirits, you'll stay on patrol until evening. Show the shaman our surroundings, including the planted mines and prepared ambushes. I expect you to cover the entire perimeter by evening." Ursico smiled pleasantly. "You'll also represent our regiment during an evening challenge. It means you'll pay for both of you, regardless of the outcome. I wish you the best of luck, and I have full confidence in your ability to recoup any monetary losses you may incur during the competition." He slapped the man's back with a finger. "Also, the name of our mobile armor is X-015. I'm sure you'll remember it after you clean all the toilets tomorrow."

Ursico led Aranea to the barracks built for the Wolfkins in the east wing of the building.

"You will be sharing the room with Normies, members of Alek's recon unit, and other troops." He pointed at the distance between beds assigned for each kind. "Don't worry, we tried to give you a certain amount of personal space, so don't worry about swinging an arm during sleep and smashing a head. Won't be happening."

Aranea thanked him and ordered the pack to settle in. Scarred One and Alek left on their mission, and the lieutenant took Aranea under the arm, with surprising numbness. She expected his chunk of metal to stomp around, crashing into things, but it adjusted to the corridors, shifting its parts and never hindering the pilot. Together they went to see the thing they must protect.

Situated right at the complex's center, a large mechanism, resembling a metallic flower, stood in a three-story tall hall, shocking the eye with the abundance of space given to it. At its base, it appeared to be a thick metal pillar four meters wide. On top of that was a round antenna that hid most of the ceiling. The device hummed, singing its 'tune' and creating a force field around Chokepoint A.

"This is it,' Ursico said. "The technicians assured me that the necessary coverage can be provided only from this location. Build it any lower, or to the side, and the mountains will interfere with the spread."

"Have there been any attacks on our positions here?" Aranea asked, taking a stroll around the generator. Stairs led to a round, metal platform encircling its middle. On the platform stood several terminals, with a single woman attending to them. She gave a thumbs-up, confirming that it was safe to go up.

"Just some minor artillery fire. It stopped once the Resistance confirmed that they were causing us zero problems. The rebels do not dare face us head-on; no surprise here. Even our scout parties stopped facing opposition when heading north. Captain Osero doesn't like it, and the warlord agrees," explained the lieutenant.

On the second floor, several metal walkways ran around the corners, used both for maintenance and for guards to stand upon in solemn silence, watching the shield generator.

"Anyway, one last thing you should know. Warn your people not to smoke inside." Ursico pointed to the small dots on the ceiling. "Our engineers, in their infinite wisdom, rejected the standardized fire extinguishing system and installed a powder-type fire suppression model. One of my idiots already tried to have a brief cigarette here when it showered him in it. Now he and two others are in the hospital with minerals filling their lungs. The damn FST stops any fire dead, but let the Spirits have mercy upon you if you are present during the process without a helmet. With this, our tour is finished, and if you don't have further questions, I must attend to my training."

"Thank you for the hospitality." An idea came into her mind. "Say, do you need any help in adjusting to melee? My troops are tough."

"Gladly take any volunteer. Just tell them not to hold any punches."

For the rest of the day, she was busy assigning tasks to her pack and organizing patrols around the area. Despite having three thousand soldiers stationed here, she considered them undermanned. The only New Breeds present were those of her pack. Aranea sparred with Ursico's combat armor team and was satisfied with their performance, although they were slightly too slow, and even the males easily ducked under the swings.

Sonya spent her daytime finding a training area and decided on a small canyon near the eastern mountain range. Martyshkina's pack was using it, so it was fitting enough for Janine's troops as well. Leila left for the hospital to tend to the wounded. Aranea felt guilty, understanding that deep down she was glad about the half-wyrm's absence. The woman scared her. Aranea had had enough of people getting into her head and wanted no one to experience it ever again.

When the sun set and night blanketed the desolate land, Aranea retreated into her private room. She put on her helmet, calling her friends. The display blinked, showing Kaleb dozing on his bed. He tried to curl and stopped halfway at the pang of pain in his missing leg. What surprised her was the headphones on his ears. Her enhanced hearing picked up on the soothing music playing through them. She smiled and planned to disconnect when the camera was turned to Kate, widening Aranea's eyes.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Surprise! Bet you didn't expect to see this," Kate said, brimming with energy. She was still lying on her bed with a couple of popped blood vessels in her eyes, probably from nightmares. Yet she had a fresh set of arms. Four thin metal needles arched from behind her back, mimicking insectoid legs. Orange and connected to a jacket, they bent at joints so Kate could move and sit with her back to the pillows. "Not bad, eh?"

"How?!" Aranea asked.

"It's all thanks to Sly! Can you imagine? He brought the reports I asked for today and also gifted it!" Kate shouted, glanced at Kaleb, and lowered her voice. "They connect to my spine using sensors. Sly said it was a prototype of something. Poor fella, he labored so hard putting it on me, but now I can do stuff like this."

Two of Kate's metal legs leaned toward the table. They ignored the glasses and plate, navigating their way to the water pitcher. The legs slid to the sides of the pitcher, lifted it, turned it, and poured cold water into a glass. Kate stuck out her tongue in the effort, and her brow became wet with sweat as she focused on placing the pitcher back down and carefully picking up the glass. She brought the glass to her lips and drank, placing it back and exhaling, satisfied and relieved.

"Pretty cool, eh?" the scout asked. "We never value what we have. Being able to drink on your own does wonders for your self-esteem, though I still need to rely on Kaleb to eat, unless I want to cover my blankets in food."

Kate glanced at the food leftovers and licked her lips, twitching a leg. She resumed the sitting position, using her prosthetic limbs to reach for scattered photos on the floor.

"Kate, if you want to eat, just shout to a nurse. Don't worry about waking Kaleb; he can sleep through an explosion," Aranea offered.

"No," Kate said with a guilty expression. "You have no idea how worn out he gets watching over me during a day. Besides, I'm always hungry. The doc says my body is growing. Not sure what's happening, but somehow, I do not freak over additional muscle." She smiled and whispered. "I've decided. If he still wants to share a path with me, I won't push him away this time. We'll become soulmates, I'll remove my scars, change, and become a better person. Not just for him, but because I want to."

Using her metal hands, Kate picked up papers and brought them to the bed, causing the half-breed to smile. Sure, her friend wasn't back at her prime, but there was a newfound dedication and steely determination in her eyes. She had finally decided to accept herself for who she was and move on.

Maybe if she can do it, so can you. The familiar voice whispered inside her head, bringing a tingle of fear. It was impossible. She was imagining things. No way it could be her. A hallucination from stress, that's all.

"Anyway, here's the deal." The metal limbs rose up, bringing the photos into view. Yasen. Blaguna. A tremble ran through the arm as Kate held that photo, accompanied by a glint of panic in her look. Next came Chort. Then the blonde with the scythe and the cyborg. "First is Yasen. He wields a power of kinetic manipulation. By this, I mean he sends out blasts of kinetic force from his body and can create impassable barriers around himself. He thinks he's hot shit, but I think we can all agree there's something off about him. The Investigation Bureau suspects him of being a coward. He often engages in battle when the odds are in his favor or when he is accompanied by stronger allies.

"Next is Blaguna. A clear New Breed, capable of handling a Wolfkin in combat with her bare hands. She has the ability to emit matter-consuming mist… and she is crazy. Really, really mad. Not in the way that she might spare you on a whiff if you engage her in an unexpected conversation, but rather she'll murder you in the most agonizing way possible. Kill her from afar the first chance you get and don't waste a thought on her. After her we have Chort. This one is weird. We usually know the true nature of our enemies, but he is a mystery despite his fame…"

"Fame?" Aranea pricked her ears. She had never heard a single thing about him until she met him in the battle over the convoy.

"Yeah." Kate tossed Blaguna's photo aside. "He's a well-known mercenary in the Ravaged Lands. When he kills someone, he always makes sure to leave a mark indicating it to be his doing. Obsessed with making a legacy for himself, he has killed Normies, Mutants, Malformed, every kind of New Breed, and recently even Wolfkins… The only ones whom he has never had the chance to take on so far are wyrms and skinwalkers. Not mad, not overly cruel, he often stopped his employers from committing atrocities and forced them to surrender to spare their lives and his. Never broke a contract and often contributed to charities. So his current behavior is unusual. Despite all of this, we have no idea about his power. Some claim he can transform into a monster. Others say that he is simply a New Breed possessing physical aptitudes on par with the warlords. That we saw. And a few claims he can summon a horde of monsters. Reports are inconclusive, but Ivar marked him as a potential source of the greenies."

Another one of his blunders. Aranea wanted to say it but then remembered Blaguna's words in the city. Maybe, for once, the blue bastard wasn't wrong.

"This leaves us with Jekaterina Glawish, leader of the Soultakers. Lemme wet my throat." Kate let go of the photos and poured some water into the glass. "The Soultakers Tribe was originally founded on the belief that there are two kinds of people. Worthy and unworthy. The worthy are citizens. They serve in the military, rule, and so on. The unworthy ones are slaves who do all the manual labor. Almost all their upper class, priests, and government were made of women; they distrusted men for some reasons." Kate chuckled, watching Kaleb with gentle eyes. "Sort of like us, I guess."

"We were never slavers," said Aranea. "Whatever our flaws may be, we never sank to such depravity."

"Sure. The strange thing is, whenever our agents captured a high-ranking female officer, she simply died."

"How so? Was it because of torture or suicide? A poison pill?"

"Nothing of the sort. Their hearts simply stopped beating after they comprehended their capture. The Investigation Bureau speculates it might be a mental block or training. Anyway, since we were not at war until recently, we stopped our attempts, but the lower-rank grunts, both men and women, were healthy, albeit not cooperative prior to release."

"Release?" Aranea inquired.

"I know what you're implying, but no. Scorpio documented everything; no one was murdered. Anyway, back to Jekaterina. Born as an unworthy one. At around six years old, taken as a sacrifice. Three times the priests extracted her every organ, and each time she regrew her insides, shrieking in pain. Confused, they sentenced her to the mines, where she and her brother spent the next twelve years, until one day they stumbled upon a long-lost bunker from the Old World. Rumor has it that she found her scythe, the Reaper of Lies, there. Armed with weapons and gear, the slaves staged an uprising and escaped. Their elected leader was apparently getting worried that Jekaterina might usurp his position and contacted the priesthood. Together, they staged an ambush. But it didn't end as they expected. By the end of the day, Jekaterina sat atop a pile of corpses. The next day, she marched to the Soultakers' capital and conquered it."

"I guess the butchery that followed for those who wronged her was spectacular."

"That's what everyone thought, I suppose. But she merely imprisoned the priests and left their families alone. Then she abolished the caste system and since then has stayed in power for thirty years, slowly eroding the barriers between men and women. However, she is not very good at governing…"

"How so?"

"Iterna offered her a vassalage. You know their contract isn't binding. Zero reason for a small nation to reject. No, Ari, her talent lies in war. She is an extremely dangerous opponent; her forces are competent, and Jekaterina leads from the front. If you encounter her, run or surrender. These are exact instructions from Captain Scorpio, by the way. She can't be killed, not by us anyway, and she's easily around warlord level."

"And the last one?" Aranea pointed at the cyborg.

"No clue. The Bento Tribe is weird, too distant, and we never exchanged diplomats or prisoners. We have little information about him; it's a miracle we even have a photo and not a sketch. His name is Tlaltzin Bento," Kate answered. "I'll try to dig up any information about him."

"He rescued us, so his tribe can't be that bad," Aranea said.

"Yeah, and those tin cans who had massacred the civilians tell us otherwise. Don't judge a group by an individual."

"Same to you, sour ass."

"Hey! I'm a happy ass now, thank you very much. Now I need you to do me a solid."

"Hm?"

"Call the wyrm-spawn here. We need to have a chit-chat."

"Why? Kate, after what she did to you…"

"That's precisely why I need to talk to her!" Kate snarled and calmed herself, taking deep breaths. "Listen, there's no true foul between me and her. For years, I've been living in fear of using my secondary power, thinking it to be a curse. And she uses her left and right. Someone needs to explain to her why messing with the heads of others is bad."

Aranea was about to point out that Leila was older than either of them. But then she nodded, accepting Kate's decision. Leila's power scared her to death. Someone needed to rein her in, and if that could be done without violence, then she was willing to try.

She searched around the barracks, but Leila was nowhere to be found. Several pack members already snored, and the rest were still outside, either on patrol or… Aranea had an epiphany and dashed to a small area to the north. Secured from any sudden assault from below by a bar located there, and since no one in their right mind would travel long distances to reach the main camp, the bar also welcomed regulars.

Though over a hundred people were present, it remained surprisingly clean. Ten tables were woefully insufficient to accommodate such a large gathering, so some bright mind dragged a couple of couches from somewhere, squeezing them closer to the wooden walls. The mixed crowd did their best to steer clear of the center of the room as Sergeant Alek tried his hardest to out-drink Scarred One to the crowd's cheering. Most supported Alek, but besides the Wolfkins, pilots of the mechanical suits and engineers were vehemently pro-shaman.

Tiny and Gin nestled on a couch in the corner, arguing with three members of the work team.

"That's the best beer I have ever tasted in my life!" Gin insisted, adamant in his conviction.

"It's not bad. Cognac is better, but I enjoy the beverage," Tiny, dressed in a T-shirt and pants, supported him. She noticed Aranea and prepared to stand.

The wolf hag waved her to relax.

"This?" A burly man laughed, hugging Gin. "My friend, it's piss! No offense, bartender, you have a heart of gold and charge just as much for your dirty waters, but they don't even warm my heart!"

"None taken," hissed the bar owner through his teeth and snapped his fingers. "Hey, girl! Bring our friend over here our exceptional drink from the back room. Free of charge! Let's see how he likes my beer afterwards!"

Tiny clenched her fists, looking at the contest between the shaman and the soldier. As the two picked up the pace, the number of empty cans and glasses at their feet gradually increased. Neither seemed to be bothered with the bread on the table. Swaying slightly, they focused on making their opponent fall first.

Aranea found Leila sitting on a chair next to the counter. She sipped orange juice, still wearing her armor. Her helmet dangled from her waist, and she had folded her wings so as not to bother anyone. Aranea pushed through a group of people, took Leila by the shoulder, and prompted her to turn around.

"Greetings, Wolf Hag. Care to join me?" She pointed at a bottle of juice. A cheering roar announcing that the pair had made it through another round of thirty shots brought a smile to her face. "The sergeant is cheating. There is something with his stomach—a tool letting him drink alcohol without getting drunk. The predicament is, he is up against a person with a far larger stomach. If the shaman can hold out…"

The girl carried three cups to the work team near Gin. Rather than drinking, they gifted it to him, congratulating the Wolf Tribe on rescuing their comrades, and the owner grabbed his head, tugging at his hair in a strange display of desperation.

"Wait! To our best, I have better drinks!"

"No need, your stuff is awesome!"

"I need you to follow me," Aranea explained the situation, and Leila nodded, gathering herself. She dropped tokens for juice just as a cough gripped Gin, and Tiny led him away. Instead of heading for the barracks, Gin and Tiny ventured out to gaze at the night sky.

"You know, I think the workers were right about the local beer." Aranea heard Gin whisper into Tiny's ear.

Aranea let Leila use her room for a long-distance call and, out of curiosity, mounted her helmet, listening and watching the discussion between the two.

"Umm… Hi there, Kate. You look like a spider today." The half-wyrm stretched her wings. "What are we going to talk about?"

"No idea. This whole 'talking things out' thing is a bit uncommon to me. Let's start from the very beginning." Kate grinned, amused by the spider comparison. "I'll tell you about my childhood, you share yours, and we'll figure out where we can go from there. I was born to…"

Aranea turned off the private communication, satisfied that neither of them planned to murder the other. Not now, at least. She found a spare bed and lay down.

"Tilden, Blaguna, Yasen, Academician, Green," Aranea whispered, trying to sleep. However, dreams refused to come.

Mom, Dad. She thought, not bothering to remove her armor. Sorry for not speaking to you for so long. I'm fine. A bit scared, to be honest, but I'll be fine.

She tried to close her eyes, but an odd sensation kept her awake. It was as if she were trying to deny giving a promised confession. The half-breed took a deep breath and continued speaking to herself.

I just don't see how I can change my Tribe. I'm afraid that more members of my pack will die. Terrified that I'll lose all my friends and be alone again. I'm dreading that someone will mess with my mind and won't leave it unchanged this time. I worry about losing control and hurting my troops. Mom, Dad… Are you happy where you are right now? Can you forgive me for what I have done to you? There was no answer, but then again, she never expected one. Some things couldn't be fixed or forgiven.

She turned to the other side. Nevertheless, she would take one small step after another, hoping that one day she could bring about a positive change and atone for her sins. Aranea curled into a ball and fell asleep.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.