The next morning, Aranea stumbled upon Gin and the shaman furiously cleaning toilets together, which surprised her. Both were out of their gear, with Scarred One wearing undersized, tattered yellow overalls, and Gin putting on simple cargo pants. The young Wolfkin refused to elaborate on what had happened and simply apologized for causing such a mess in the restroom. The shaman shrugged.

"I've had my share of fixing and cleaning up after these ridiculous devices," she said, nodding at the toilets as she scrubbed the floor clean of drool, food, and other substances Aranea preferred not to know the origin of. The stench killed any desire she had to take a leak. "I bring my deepest apologies for joining that male in causing this ruckus. I never expected an outsider to last so long in the competition."

"So who won?" Aranea inquired.

"Alek is in the hospital, and I'm not. I suppose it makes me the winner," the shaman sighed, turning around. "Though in his wickedness he found a way to sour my victory."

Alek, huh?

"You didn't let the guys I had assigned to the cleaning duty off the hook?"

"No, they are in another wing, Leader," Scarred One said. "Why do Normies build so many waste pits when the outside exists? The sun evaporates the…"

"No," Aranea interrupted, unwilling to hear her train of thought.

Outside, Sonya assembled the first group for training. Aranea decided to address the lack of scouts immediately. The first choice was obvious. Warriors and males alike liked Tiny, and females often sought her out for advice. No one would resist her promotion, and perhaps it can even change the pack's perspective on the world. The cubs of the Crippled were shunned until the last few years, and today they fit in without any fuss, often reaching leadership roles. So let a weaker member lead and retain her position through earned loyalty. Who could be the second candidate? She had a hidden desire to promote Gin, but that might break the relationship, and the shaman won't stand for it. None of her warriors had proven themselves worthy of this honor yet. Except…

Aranea smirked. She knew just the person, and damn the traditions, it was her choice. Kate was right—she had no right to give up on the pack members. They were all fellow citizens in the end. The wolf hag contacted Sonya and explained her idea. Sonya approved of her candidates.

"Stage a test they can pass," she advised. "Your word is law, but there's no reason to irritate the traditionalists."

Leila had already gone to the hospital at the foot of the mountain range, and Aranea hurried there, not taking any transport and trusting in her limbs to carry her there faster. Her suit emitted identification codes, alerting allies and preventing a mine from blowing her up, while she enjoyed herself, navigating her path down by stabbing the rock and leaping from boulder to boulder, enjoying the returned vigor.

The military hospital, a gray stone slab, stood in the shade. Its third floor was still under construction, and several tents were scattered around the sturdy building. In them, the medical personnel tended to the wounded. Though no serious fighting happened at the moment, there were still sick people, ranging from the caravan hands of neutral traders to occasional captives. Agents dressed in black leather trench coats accompanied the latter group, arguing with the nurses. Spine mites, resulting in infection; twisted limbs during training; sunburns and strokes; and even injuries from the live ammunition—there was no shortage of troubles.

In the tent closer to the entrance, Aranea joined Janine and Martyshkina. The warlord responsible for the east sat naked inside, pus and blood seeping through her stitches while a pair of doctors tended to her.

"Mistresses." Aranea bowed.

"No ranks here." Janine waved her paw, obviously in a merry mood. She cracked her artificial jaw back into place and continued without static interference. "Got myself into a sandstorm. Will visit the maintenance crew later. I'm here to keep Marty company lest she try to avoid following the simplest instructions again."

"It's your fault," Martyshkina accused. "Know what a parasite is? It's an organism leeching off its host. To do so, it must keep its host alive. But no, you needed us to be in shape. You had to fix us. Some help that was; my back still hurts!" She frowned, receiving a heavy slap from her friend. "Now my head hurts too."

"Is it spinning?" a nurse asked.

"Nope."

"Then you're fine. Quit simulating."

"It is necessary." Aranea faced the unblinking gaze, refusing to be sorry. "We often operate in cities, buy stuff from Normies and such. Here are no old borders between us. We can't let little ones suffer if a spine mite leaps from us to them. The Normies don't have our immune systems. The age has changed, and we must adapt."

The warlord's maw opened, revealing fangs, and her fingers twitched, as if choking the unruly wolf hag into submission. She composed herself and grinned.

"Fair, I'll learn how to use a shower. Consider yourself off the hook. Now be on your way and forget you ever saw me so weak."

"She still can break you with a finger," Janine mused.

"A whole finger!" Martyshkina cried. "Weak! So feeble!"

"Sky, give me normal patients," muttered the nurse.

"I have a question." Aranea avoided clarifying whether Martyshkina was joking about the showers. Surely such an ancient creature would know how to use them, wouldn't they? "Any news about Valerye's whereabouts?"

"Chort was spotted behind the front lines. Our sister hunts him," Janine answered. "I wish Onyxia were still with us. She'd find him in a flash."

"Do you think he might be responsible for Anji's…"

"No, he's just a mercenary," Janine cut off Martyshkina's question. Her stare told Aranea to leave asking no more questions.

She found Leila inside a restricted wing of the hospital, in the area where medics performed minor operations. To keep the area sterile, nonessential personnel were barred from entry. Aranea stood in front of the glass window, waiting for Leila to finish her duties. The half-wyrm had left her armor in the barracks, and despite her claws, she remained useful, applying bandages with incredible speed, rubbing in medical gel, and administering injections. When requested, she also helped transport patients and restrained those who had suddenly woken up, preventing them from harming themselves. Aranea turned around, catching up on the faint scent of Olesya, and was puzzled to see two Wolfkins.

"Wolf hag?" Tiny said. She held a small bottle in her paws and wore regular clothes: brown pants and a vest of the same color.

A scout from Olesya's pack stood near her, yawning. Upon noticing the disapproval look, Velka bared her neck in submission and let go of tension at Aranea's nod.

"Tiny. Great, I was planning to find you. Head to the training area as soon as possible; I'll be joining you in under an hour. You and Leila are about to undergo a small trial." Aranea smiled, wondering how Tiny had sneaked up on her. She had heard Velka's footsteps and smelled her from afar, yet she had utterly failed to sense the smaller woman. A useful trick, and one she intended to learn. "Caught something?" She pointed at the bottle.

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"Since birth. It's my medicine." Tiny glanced down. "My bones become brittle without a constant dosage. Warlord Alpha regularly sends these pills to me. Command also provides me with a similar product for free, but these come straight from Iterna and are of superior quality. Plus, they're not sour."

"Why would Warlord Alpha do it?" Aranea asked. Everyone had the right to secrets; however, to her knowledge, Alpha was a violent murderer, barely capable of restraining her rage. Such a psychopath shouldn't be viewing Tiny with contempt. "Everyone knows she is a merciless butcher…"

"My… Alpha is not evil!" A flicker of anger flashed in Tiny's eyes, and the small warrior demonstrated a backbone, refusing to back down after her outburst. "She cured me! When no one bothered to congratulate me on my third birthday, she brought me sweets, and her pack took our entire group on a field trip. When I couldn't pass the warrior test, she gave me tips on the weak spots of an insectoid warrior!"

"You beat an insectoid warrior. Were with the Alpha Pack." Aranea processed the information. She patted Tiny on the shoulder. "No need to explain if you don't want it. I guess I shouldn't believe every piece of gossip."

"So much for my portrait, then." Velka scoffed. "Oh, back to drinking."

"Why in the Abyss's unholy depths are you not with your pack?" Aranea snapped at her. "While the enemies are afraid to try us now, no one knows what will happen tomorrow. Go and train your pack!"

"You think I don't know it?" Velka said. "Olesya has changed since Siri died. She was lax before, sure, but now she's utterly careless in her approach, much like Siri was. She trains newcomers herself, doesn't bother with the camp or giving us orders, doesn't even rely on us for anything, claws for any inquiry… And I started to believe she was truly different from the rest of our leaders." Velka stormed out of the hospital, accompanied by Tiny, who tried to calm her down.

Olesya changed? Aranea turned back to the window. Yes, her friend had grown more distant than before, which was not surprising, considering how busy they were and what had happened. She had seen Olesya in action; she was the same old self… She shoved the thoughts out of her mind.

A soldier complained about a searing stomach pain. Aranea could see that information written on a sheet of paper near his bed. It would be some time before the doctors could attend to him because his condition was not life-threatening. He had tried his best to hold on but groaned from pain, shaking despite taking painkillers. Apparently, he had swallowed a parasite during a patrol, and now the pest was busy building nests in his stomach. A regular case of not wearing mouth protection around these parts. He'll need surgery to extract the critters. Leila stopped near him and took his head. The same light shone from her eyes, engulfing the man as she ordered him not to feel pain until evening.

"What in the world are you pulling off?" Aranea entered the room, nodding in apology to the chief nurse. "You can't take people's feelings away without asking permission."

"He'll be fine." Leila dismissed her concerns, standing up as the man looked around in confusion. "Now nothing will bother him, and he can wait his turn with no discomfort."

"My stomach is fine…" the soldier said, touching his belly. "Lady, you've performed a miracle! Does it mean I'm healed?"

"No, you idiot!" Aranea shouted, calling a nurse closer. "Strap that one to his bed and ensure he'll stay until the operation. He temporarily lost the ability to feel pain."

She grabbed Leila by the hand, dragging her to the restroom. Normally, the half-wyrm far surpassed her in strength, but in her new armor, Aranea overpowered the attempts at resistance and pushed Leila's face toward a mirror on the wall.

"Look at yourself. How much do you know about life?" Aranea growled, desiring to bite the reckless woman.

"Not enough. It's why I'm always curious," Leila said, scrubbing dirt from her face.

"Think before you act. You can't just mess with someone's mind on a whim. What if you permanently damage them?"

"Impossible. I know better than anyone else. There would be no permanent damage unless I wanted it," Leila said calmly.

"How in the world can you even know that?!"

"Because I've lived with two imprints in my mind for over fifteen years." Noticing Aranea's confusion in the reflection, Leila explained, "Imprints are permanent commands or rules. One of the fancier abilities of us, wyrms. It can be almost anything, really. I was presented to the old demon at the age of ten. When he saw me, it enraged him. He lost his composure like never before or after. That night with Mom was just for pleasure, he yelled. She had no right to hide the pregnancy; they were going to have an official child after the marriage, not a bastard."

"The only bastard here is him," Aranea said.

"No arguing here. He looked at me and ordered me to cease breathing." The half-wyrm's eye twitched. "Naturally, I obeyed. Mom tried to stop, but the old demon's will was overwhelming. Thankfully, the ruckus attracted Wyrm Lord, who stopped it. Mom stayed with the old demon…"

"Spirits, why?!"

"No idea. Maybe she tried to change him. He wasn't so bad when she was around. Another of the wyrms' peculiar character traits. To keep me from harm, the uncle placed an imprint on me, forcing me to 'live,' so to speak. After Mom's death, it was more like a curse, since the old demon tried to toughen me up. Because my birth had supposedly 'disgraced' him and Mom or some shit, he wanted me to surpass him, to be more like him. That's why he kept me locked away all these years, to protect his 'honor.' As if you could take honor from someone lacking it. Now that I'm finally free of him, it no longer bothers me. I have so much to catch up on now!"

"And the second imprint?" Aranea asked, understanding the reason for Leila's unusual friendliness and lack of manners or fear.

"Oh, that. The old demon placed a second imprint on me when he trained me to be his enforcer. He said he had done the same in his youth. It made me return to him after the mission, no matter what." Leila took a breath, closing her eyes. "Anyway, back to the topic. The man was in pain, so I removed that element. For a little while! He feels better now and can wait his turn…"

Aranea slammed her paw into the wall near the mirror.

"Your father used his power on you. Why do you think he did it?" Aranea forced herself to be deadly calm. Kate was right—no shouting.

"Told you already. He needed me to be obedient after his need to see me dead failed. The freak enjoys watching others squirm," Leila hissed. "I hate him, but what does that have to do with us? I use my power…"

"To get a reaction," Aranea said. "You want to use your power so others would be indebted to you. Thank you. Praise you. Because you know better."

"Lies!"

"Really? Then why not inform others about the effects of your power? Why force yourself on people? Admit it, you also want to get a reaction out of people, only of a different kind. You also think you know better and have a right to decide for others." Aranea pressed her snout to Leila's ear. "Just like your father."

Leila broke free, slamming Aranea into a nearby wall with an unexpected surge of strength. She inhaled through her nose and mouth, grinding her teeth. Her eyes reddened with rage. Her pupils dilated as she tried to formulate words; her clawed hands cracked the stone with the wolf hag. Aranea steeled herself, refusing to blink or fight back. Words, not physical violence. Not after she started this confrontation.

"Never," Leila said, her fingers trembling. "Never dare to compare me to him. Want to hit me? Fine, go ahead, as if it'll hurt. Want to be pissed off at me. Feel free. But never, ever compare me to that scum! I never used anyone, never left anyone to die, or betrayed… I'm better than him!"

"Then prove it!" Aranea insisted. "Let others choose. Warn them about what you'll do. Don't act like him."

"If you saw a boy about to jump off a roof because he thought he could fly, wouldn't you stop him, even if he was angry or resisted?" Leila repeated these words like a mantra, uncertain.

"Are these Leila's words or Ivar's words?" Aranea asked, and the half-wyrm let her go, taking a step back. "It's how he justifies using his ability, correct?"

"My power is not evil. I use it to help people. Unlike the old demon, I don't make anyone feel terrible!" Leila pleaded desperately.

"It's fine to use your power," Aranea said, shocked by her own words. The voice was hers, but the statement came from a place deeper within. "You were born with it; how can it be evil? Don't be silly; it's an incredible boon in battle. But it is not okay to use it on our allies or civilians. Not unless they permit it. Maybe not even then. Consider the results. You used it on Kate, and her condition worsened. You used it on the soldier, and he almost left without surgery. These are the only two instances in which I was present! How can you be sure that you've hurt no one with your mind control? Use it, don't be afraid of it, accept it. No arguing here. But get consent first and, better yet, consult with a doctor if you do so in a hospital."

"You two are mating or something?" A toilet booth opened, and Janine Forty-Seventh walked out, adjusting her pants.

"No!" The two answered in unison.

The older wolf hag stomped to the exit, stopped to size up the crack, and rolled her eyes.

"That needs to be fixed. Can't let those filthy Normies consider us savages. We are of an enlightened breed. I'll check in the evening."

"Why are you here?" Aranea asked.

"Bladder problems."

Leila chuckled when the older wolf hag left and washed her face.

"Well, that was unexpected. I swear I only want what's best for people. But I'll think about your words. Can you go now? I have a wall to fix." She gestured at the damaged section. "And I have no clue how to do that. Not a mason."

"Can't do. You want to help? Great! I'm taking you up on the offer. There's a job for you. If you agree, I'll even patch up the wall."

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