The broken constructs zoomed in and out of focus of her right eye, the left being forced closed under a liberal seeping of dark blood that poured down from a gash just above her eye.

Breath came quick and hot from within her, her jaw dropped, her sharp teeth showing, as she sought to regain control of herself. The shield lay on the floor besides her, and her left hand was propped against her knee, the right hand still holding on uselessly to her flail.

"You have made remarkable progress, Gad," Instructor Ves said, slithering into view with his dark silver scales shimmering under the bright white ceiling light.

Instead of answering, Gad continued to stare at the broken constructs strewn around her, and beyond, at the mass of beast constructs that encircled them all. It was a mass of beasts that she was supposed to have held the aggro of, but instead, the closest sapient shaped construct now faced her with its empty, shattered expression, half its face missing, its body crushed under a massive, clawed paw. This particular construct was meant to represent a party leader…

"Don't be discouraged," the nileop told her, squeezing her shoulder. "You've got the basics of your affinity down, and you've done incredibly well in doing so as fast as you have. Now, we let the Brightnight beat the growth into you. As always, there is no teacher that can compare to live combat."

Even as he spoke, the beyond expensive constructs began to put themselves back together. The sapients morphed into a silver liquid that bubbled and pooled together, and she eyed the broken party leader as it melted and gathered in a smooth, molten pool in order to reform itself.

She wanted to believe her instructor. She wanted to trust herself, believing in the fruits of her hard work both in the Controllers Hall, and from the dungeons they had spent weeks in… However, unlike these machines, if she let her party down in that jungle, there would be no putting them back together in order for her to try again.

There was no room for failure when it came to tanking, and she feared that she wasn't ready for the challenges coming for them in that jungle.

*********

The snack machines hummed in the silent communal area. Usually, the place would be abuzz with excited, albeit exhausted, chatter as parties mingled and enjoyed a bit of down time before bed. However, tonight, everyone had turned in early in preparation for their descent into the town the Scimitar had arrived at, and the dungeon entrances that stood at its core.

The lights were off, but the walls were awash with yellow lights from the settlement beyond, which was built right on the Labyrinth wall itself in order to facilitate all the delving and economic activity that surrounded the Brightnight. Red and green popped against the yellow glimmer once in a while, as an endless procession of cargo ships continued to ferry harvested and gathered goods from the jungle domain and into a chaos of giant haul ships that surrounded the Scimitar, ready to bring the wealth of the jungle elsewhere, anywhere, as the goods were distributed and passed around by a million guilds and corporations on their way to the Nexus never pausing industrial might and never ceasing consuming maw.

But Kur didn't care for the light and aethership show, and instead sat far from the window, his back facing it, his hands clasped together over the table as he waited. His eyes stared out empty across the expanse of yellow lit table before him, and though one might have mistook him for having zoned out, it was quite the contrary.

He had received the notification, as well as the transfer of authority in the afternoon, and hadn't been able to focus on anything else until now. It was a good thing that everything was ready for their departure, and that this distraction didn't cost him. But this was something that needed to be addressed before they made for the sweltering, thick and lush confines of that dark jungle.

Problem was, how did one even address something such as this?

"You called?"

Startled, he turned around to find Mul heading his way. Kur gulped a half-formed sentence, then nodded, and motioned for the brawler to take a seat opposite him.

Silence stretched in between them, punctuated only by the humming of the snack and drinks machines at the back of the room. A burst of green and red, then bright gold, pink and rainbow lit up the room as one of the haul ships hovering over the jungle town flared its engines, ready for departure.

The brawler sighed, his shoulders dropping.

"Look, Kur, we don't have to make a big deal out of this," he told his party leader. But his tone was soft, gentle, and unblocked by his suppressor. "It is what it is, and you are the right choice for it. The only choice."

Kur passed a hand over his growing, pale blond hair. He had liked the idea of growing it out. Having seen the look across the 2NET's multi-faceted social media, he thought that it might give him more of that dependable, noble leader sort of look, but now, a small part of him wondered if he should've gone to the ship's barber to trim it short again, as Nar had.

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"Besides, you know we need this," the brawler continued. "Next time the Pile comes crashing down, it's better for you to release me, than to wait for that emergency release again. Maybe you could just throw me at the enemy while the rest of you run for…"

Kur slammed his fist on the table, and it sounded as though one of the giant haul ships had collided against the Scimitar.

"That is not funny," Kur breathed through his clenched teeth, his face wrathful in that bright, golden and pink light. "I would never do that! And I… I…"

His eyes glimmered, and Mul grimaced. He stared out at the agglomerate of haul ships outside for a moment, then took a deep breath.

"It is what it is, man. Berserkers are dangerous," Mul whispered. "The suppressor will be easing back at random times during combat from now on, to give me the chance to keep mastering my rage, and things will get better… But this is my life. This is who I am, and this is what enables my freedom and my future in the Nexus. I won't give up combat, ever. And rather than have the control in the hands of the faculty, the guild, or some faceless authority back in the Nexus, I rather know that it's safe in your hands, where it will be… Respected, and cared for."

"I won't…"

"You will use it, Kur," Mul said, his tone leaving no room for denial. "And that's why I gave it to you, and not to Cen. She would rather die than unleash me, but not you… No. You are a leader, a great leader, and you know that sometimes, things just need to be done. No matter how hard they are."

Kur stared into those deep red neon pupils, their glow even brighter in that glare of the slow-moving haul ship's enormous lift engines. Was he still the kind of leader that could achieve something like that? Was he still great? His new ring still said otherwise.

"Is that what you want me to do?" Kur asked him. "Use it, rather than just keep it safe?"

"They come together. And yes, that's exactly what I want you to do," the brawler said. "When all else fails, when Gad cannot stop the damage, and if Nar is not there to save the day… If someone is about to die, I want you to remember that you still have me. I want you to have me be the party's last recourse, our emergency measure, our last weapon. And yes, when you do release my suppressor, I want you to point me in the direction of the enemy, and then get the fuck away from me, as I could turn on you all just as easily. And if we survive, you can come back later to see if there's anything left of me."

"Mul…"

The brawler shook his head. "There's no point in sugarcoating it, as they say. And while I fully plan on controlling this rage someday soon, someone must always hold this… This leash around my neck. Maybe one day it will be someone else, someone special, but for now, I can think of no one better than you, Kur. So please, will you do this for me?"

Kur's teeth screamed from how hard he pressed his jaw, his heart shaking for the exposed, vulnerable brawler's plea for help. No, for someone trusted to be the one to hold control over his very thoughts and personality. His actions. His behavior… His whole being.

"I will keep it safe," Kur vowed, pushing the words past his tightened throat. "And I will use it if we need it. But only if there's no other choice."

Mul sighed, his shoulder hunching, and for a moment. "Thank you. That means everything to me."

"And to me, that you would trust me this much," Kur replied, his voice strangled.

Mul snorted.

"I trust you with my life already! What's this in comparison?" he asked the tall, buff altei. Then he grinned. "By the way, I think the hair suits you. It does have a certain "hey, I'm important! Do as I say!" kind of look to it."

A chocked laugh startled its way past his lips.

"Thanks! You too!" Kur said, eyeing the growing layer of thick, dark silver hair now covering Mul's previously bald scalp, and which was now lit up in gold, pink and the colors of the raging rainbow as the haul ship gained altitude.

"I know," Mul said, wiggling his eyebrows at him. "Anyways, we should go to sleep now, yeah? I'd like to have a proper rest in a proper bed before we jump into a sweltering and bug infested tent for the next fucking four months."

Kur chuckled at that. "Yeah. Me too I guess."

A silent look was exchanged between the two of them, and that was that. Kur would for now hold the control of Mul's red suppressor, and the matter was settled.

"By the way, is Nar back yet?" he asked the brawler, as they left the bright common area behind. It was almost eleven PM already, and they were departing at 6AM in the morning.

Mul shook his head, grimacing. "Not yet. Fuck, I hope that woman lets him have a proper sleep tonight."

Meaning, hopefully he won't return covered in bruises and bleeding out as usual, and have to get up in the middle of the night to heal from those things slicing him open… Kur thought, gritting his teeth. He told Nar that he didn't have to be so quiet and worried about waking them up when he got up to wash off the blood before it soaked into his blanket and mattress, but Nar was stubborn. And the thought of him keeping in his pain, as well as going through the extra trouble of being quiet, ignited something ugly in him.

But Gad had made it abundantly clear that she had spoken with Nar, and that they should all respect his wishes and back off. At least for now. But as the party leader, as family, was he doing the right thing in not stopping that madness? That torture that didn't stop to even allow him to sleep and rest properly? Hadn't Nar suffered enough already in his life?

"Nar hasn't given up yet," Gad had told him. "He just doesn't know it. So let him get the strength he needs, and let us all focus on doing the same."

He passed a hand over his face as they approached their party room.

Just as Mul entrusted him to release his suppressor if the need arose, because he was a realist, so too he wondered if maybe it was them who had to give up, and to help Nar in doing the same. They couldn't be sure if it had truly been a god that had made promises to Nar or not, and they couldn't know for sure that if It actually was a god, if It hadn't just been toying with him either. Back then, they were all just sinners after all, and the gods had been more than cruel enough throughout their Climb… Furthermore, if it was forbidden to go back down into the B-Nex, then what were they even going to do? Fight against the whole of Creation for it?

He sighed.

There was never a moment's rest for a party leader.

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