Plague Raven crouched at the top of the mountain, turning her head to the left to have a better view of the road below. A caravan was moving on a tight road below, aiming to reach the lands of the Regulators. Or the Reclamation Army. It was hard to keep track of all the changes in the world, and frankly, Plague Raven could care less about all of this.

These traders were mad, coming in with only four vehicles. Plague Raven cared little for any reason why they dared venture through the lands of the Malformed. Rraghr had sent her to make an example out of these traders. What she cared for was an incoming slaughter.

The ground before the front vehicle exploded, unleashing a gigantic malformed, encased in natural bone armor. The jaws of his gator-like head spread wide, while two mighty arms grabbed the front of the vehicle, stopping it dead. A gunner at the top of the vehicle managed to fire just twice, both bullets ricocheted away from the bone armor of the being. The jaws closed on the man, snapping him and pulling the mounted machine gun away. A small fountain of blood poured from the opening in the car, before passengers inside closed the lid.

The Malformed poured from the cracks in the mountain, leaping the cars and hungrily reaching for the gunners, piercing them with their bone blades, choking them with their tentacles, biting at their helmets, bending the metal and cracking bones beneath. Countless arms reached for doors, tearing them away and allowing the malformed to lunge at people within.

Plague Raven gave a screech of annoyance, seeing how the last car in the convoy managed to move back, rolling over two malformed and leaving blood smears beneath its armored wheels. One of her soldiers jumped at the car, only to be shot down by the guard. The car stared to make a turn, smashing one more malformed against the stone slope of the mountain. This will not stand.

Her leather wings spread behind her back, and the leader of the raiding party leaped from the stones, flying down faster than any arrow could. She swooped from the mountain, grabbing the gunner with her clawed legs and jerking him free from the car, making it tremble in the process. The woman was secured by some belts and wore a primitive version of the exoskeleton. Equipment of a weakling. The strongest of today’s world had no need for such cheap tricks. Plague Raven proved this by tearing her away, the woman’s armor may be strong and her weapon sting, but the guard’s body is that of frail flesh and bone. A body of meat, it tore in two because of Plague Raven’s violent assault. The guard screamed weakly, and the malformed smiled, throwing her upper body upward and taking a bite out of the woman’s head with her beak. She felt the taste of metal and foul oil in her mouth, along with sweet blood and the hissing of electricity against her palate. Plague Raven bit all of this—bone, flesh, and metal—her enhanced stomach will digest everything.

Throwing aside the dead body, the malformed swooped down again, grabbing the upper part of the vehicle and throwing it against the stones. The car landed on the side, and the Plague Raven landed on it, turning her head to the side. Her hands found the door, the claws slid in along its edges, tearing the metal away. She jerked her head to the side, giving a gurgling croak of indignation at the shot coming from within. The bullet missed the mark, and Plague Raven thrust her claws within, piercing the armor of the screaming man.

He screamed in horror at her presence, but when her claws reached his flesh, he shouted from the utter pain. Plague Raven was angry, and her power followed her will, injecting the fool with poison that will prolong his suffering for a whole day, not allowing him to either die or lose his mind. At the day’s end, his back will snap, leaving him immobilized and eventually dead. Any fool who tries to eat him will share his fate.

Plague Raven jumped away from the car, allowing her troops to feast on the males inside and gather the females. They will be dragged back to the Junkyard, where Rraghr and his chosen warriors will breed new malformed.

"The overlord will be pleased." Thrash Cow, the bone-covered malformed, said coming to Plague Raven. A quick glance from her made him prostrate himself before her, "Ten females, not counting the…" He bit his tongue to the blood, stopping himself and earning another glance.

I taught him well. Plague Raven smugly thought. She noticed how a child was dragged from one of the cars. A female one. The males were generally butchered in place and fed upon. The females were dragged back to the hideout, where they could mature and serve as breeding mothers. But Plague Raven always liked to do something else with the kids. She gave an ear-piercing screech, forcing all the malformed away from the screaming girl, claiming her as her own prize.

Plague Raven closed on the girl, seeing her tears behind the lenses of her gas mask meant to protect the kid from the scorching heat. The malformed enjoyed her scream of terror at the sight of her mighty body. The kid darted away from her, and Plague Raven circled around her, making sure that kid will stumble into her. The kid fell and tried to crawl away, only to find Plague Raven behind her back.

"People noticed wolfkins' training area nearby," Thrash Cow crept forward, kicking away the malformed who brought the news, "Some four kilometers away from us. We went too f…" He stopped, feeling Plague Raven claw against his neck, "Your orders?"

Plague Raven fell in thought, putting one leg on the child, pinning her down, and allowing her claw to tap onto her forehead. Wolfkins. It’s been years since she last feasted on one. The last time they raided the village, one of their kind, a dirty, arrogant girl, managed to wound her! Plague Raven repaid this indignity by throwing the wolfkin’s kin to the death. Still…

She gave a screech and felt Thrash Cow tensing beneath her hand.

"But Rraghr will…" He screamed in pain, feeling her claw piercing his bones and injecting poison. Plague Raven didn’t want to kill him, so her claws injected less lethal venom, something to set his nerves ablaze and make him think twice before arguing with her ever again.

All around her, the malformed hurried to butcher the remaining traders, devouring women along with males. Rraghr sent her to make an example of those who dared to ignore the borders of his kingdom and bring fresh women. Plague Raven could care less for what he wants. He was a madman, pretending to be a war chief, obsessed with a delusion of grandeur. He wanted to reclaim Belaz and all that. Such pretty delusions.

Plague Raven only stuck with him because he brought pain and death everywhere, two things that she simply adored in this life. She let go of the child, allowing it to run. The kid ran a good thirty steps before turning and noticing that Plague Raven walked after her, always keeping the same distance of two steps between them. Horror appeared in the child’s eyes at the sight of the slowly approaching clawed hand. She darted even faster, and Plague Raven gave an approving croak, enjoying the game while keeping the same distance and bringing her claws closer, inch by inch.

The child ran across the road, leaving whatever kin she had to be butchered and devoured. She was in no danger… For the time while Plague Raven slowly moved her claws. When the claws reach her, when the child’s fear will reach its apogee, she will be injected with poison that will increase the sensitivity in her entire body, causing the kid to feel friction from the clothes like a whip hit. And then, and only then, will Plague Raven feast, accompanied by the most beautiful song in the world.

And after she finished her meal… They will go hunting.

****

"Here we are, commune of Saint Jeremia!" Virginia proudly pointed at the wall in the distance.

"Why in the world are they living here?" Svetlana asked, tugging at her lapels and removing the dust from her shoulders. When the group finished crossing the deadly sand, Virginia made a misstep, sending both her and the medic face down.

"According to what I have read," Aranea started, looking around herself while they walked toward the massive wall in the distance. She heard movements around them and had little doubt that they have been watched, "Jeremia was the name of the man who saved a small group during the Extinction. He then led them to a place with a device capable of producing water and taught them how to grow mushrooms underground. Over time, more and more people flocked here, and Jeremia spread his teaching of non-violence as his flock increased. He is long dead, and the locals are not shy about defending themselves, but people here like living away from the oppression of any other gang in the Ravaged Lands."

"All true," Virginia nodded eagerly, "Although, if ya ask me, the locals decided to stay here against all odds cause of all the Malformed in the mountains. Try to move a large group of people from here, and you will end up being swarmed, or many people will die amidst the sand. Meanwhile, a small, well-trained force can move in relatively safely to exchange goods."

"Or bleed the locals dry," Svetlana mumbled. She lifted a brow, noticing Aranea’s look, "Don’t look at me like that. You know how traders in the Ravaged Lands treat such remote settlements."

"Hah. Ignorance of youth." Virginia smirked, stomping forward.

Aranea was silent, walking toward the wall. It was a mix of bunker wall and makeshift addition to it, two turrets, thankfully not pointed at them, were installed on the section of the wall visible to the eye. So far, everything was just like the investigation bureau told them—the commune was located between two mountains. The "rear entrance," located in the south, looked small and barely protected, the road leading to it was dusty.

This look was deceiving. Aranea noticed traces of bullets on the ground, slightly covered by sand. Virginia, almost innocently, kicked the sand from one part of the road, pointing at the disabled mine beneath. The commune served as a safe haven for any weary travelers, thus most of its defenses were meant to be activated remotely. While the group ventured closer, Aranea saw an automatic artillery piece at the wall, if the reports were to be believed, the locals used it to fire at any malformed who dared to attack the trader’s caravan.

Aranea’s ears picked up a footstep behind them. She wanted to turn around, but a gesture from Virginia made her walk forward, toward the steel doors, keeping the commune safe from the outside world. A trembling air also indicated the presence of the energy shield that enveloped this small population center, keeping it safe even during the fiercest sandstorms.

"Heeey!" Virginia jumped at the edge of the power shield, waving her paw to the people at the top of the wall, "Guests have arrived! Can we come in!? Pretty please!"

"Shut your mouth, mutt," A voice said behind them, "And turn around."

Aranea followed the command, turning around and seeing an angry looking lean man. He was dressed in what looked to be the remains of the regulator’s power armor, lacking any cape or helmet. An eyepatch was placed across his eye while he pointed a pistol at Svetlana. Behind him stood four more people, all armed with SMGs, aiming their weapons at the group.

"I surrender!" Svetlana raised her paws up, and the man with an eyepatch raised his brow, moving his aim at Aranea, who folded her arms on her chest.

A shadow appeared behind Virginia, moving fast enough to sneak up on a normal human faster than he could see. Aranea saw a glint of steel moving toward her neck. She made no move, not wanting to start a fight, allowing Virginia to grab a hand of the unknown assaulter by the wrist, pulling it away from her neck.

"Hey! That’s not a proper way to treat your guests!" Virginia sniffed the small blade before her nose and threw the person behind her over her head. The wolf hag carefully landed the scared-looking overweight man before herself, putting the blade back into his sheath. Seeing this, one of the men armed with SMGs cursed, extending his arm and allowing a ball of flame to appear in his palm.

"Sorry, but I am not smoking," Aranea joked, "Thanks for the offer nonetheless."

"Please, just diffuse the situation!" Svetlana begged Aranea, "What’s the point in hurting the locals?"

"By the Ancient, who are they, Galaro!?" The fat man asked, stepping away from the smiling Virginia.

"They are the mutts, Thinner," The man with the eyepatch responded, a burning hatred became visible to the naked eye in his sole eye, "The mutant freaks and shock troopers of the Reclamation Army. The ones who defeated Regulators, killed Yasen, and ended Blaguna."

"Not mutants or freaks, but in the rest guilty as charged, although we had help." Virginia scratched behind her ear, and Aranea saw a flashbang slide into her paw from the sleeve.

"And now they come to take over this place as well and to butcher Malfiro." The fat man pressed a hand to his lips in fear. Galaro tensed at these words, a nervous tick appeared in the corner of his good eye. His finger on the trigger trembled.

"Not guilty of any of this," Aranea corrected Thinner coldly, "We came here at the request of trader Somelhaen. I swear that none of us have any intentions of spilling the blood of anyone in this commune, nor do we want to conquer this place," She gestured to Virginia to keep her cool and stepped forward, pressing her forehead against the pistol’s barrel and extending her arms forward, pressing her wrists together, "We only want to ensure that the trader and his crew are alive and to resolve the incident peacefully and in a civilized manner. If you're afraid of us, feel free to tie up my hands and keep me as a hostage."

Aranea fully meant what she said. She already gauged Galaro's abilities and was certain that she could dodge his shot if the man tries to kill her. If Aranea's dignity and pride are the price of entering safely, then so be it. Aranea saw no reason in keeping her pride at the cost of human lives. Their potential opponents were new breeds, all of them. Taking them down will endanger the commune.

Galaro licked his lips, pressing his pistol against her skin, before shaking his head and putting the weapon back into its holster with a visible effort.

"Call the abbot," He gestured to the guards to lower their weapons, "The abbot will judge if they are allowed to enter."