Ratcatcher stepped into the underground cellar. According to the village elder, these oval-shaped rooms served as hiding spots for escapees or those lucky ones the Underway planned to smuggle outside of the Desolation. Built a good three meters underground, the room’s rough walls were made of stone, held together by actual cement and a sheer miracle from being collapsed by the sand. The woman had nothing against the locals. They were working with what they had, but their shoddy masonry hardly deserved any praise.

Rows of wooden crates filled the cellar, filled with various trading goods the settlers brought from outside the Desolation and some medicine left here to preserve it from spoiling. She kind of admired the dedication of the locals. To think, someone willingly left the Desolation and came back, bringing supplies to its fellow. Few people would make such a sacrifice.

Augustus, Smar, and Elirob claimed this cellar for themselves. Augustus had chosen a narrow space on top of three crates as his sleeping ‘bed’, leaving more spacious room for the other two. Kayleen and Ratcatcher settled down in another cellar, ignoring offers of their guides to switch to more comfortable rooms.

“Elisa,” Augustus greeted her, hanging from a wall on his index fingers alone.

“What, you have spliced your DNA with a spider all of a sudden?” Ratcatcher joked, sitting down on a nearby crate. “I’d thought you’d be more worried about potential spies or about Kayleen and Smar shopping.”

“I am inclined to believe the elder’s words about spies.” Augustus lifted his body horizontally, using the wall for pull-ups. “As for our comrades, judging by your cheerful mood, I can trust Smar to keep Kayleen out of trouble. In troubling times, training can serve to clear your mind of worries and help with focus. And no, I have nothing from a spider in my veins. Observe.”

Ratcatcher looked at how he switched his fingers, grasping the uneven wall with a single pinky of his left arm. Undressed to his waist, Augustus’ muscles bulged beneath the skin as he swung his legs to the side, assuming another horizontal position. Letting go of a finger, Rho grabbed the wall with his other pinky, allowing the muscles in his other arm to seize.

“It’s a skill.” Ratcatcher finally understood.

He wasn’t a spider. Augustus grasped at each uneven surface on a wall, using even the slightest bulge to support his weight by straining the muscles in his body. He essentially scaled a wall without the use of any instruments, safe only for his incredible eyesight and knowledge of which parts of the wall could support him and which couldn’t.

“Yes, the one that I tried to teach all my students in vain.” Augustus jumped off the wall, landing gracefully next to her.

“Ah, so this is why you forced us to carry pots filled with water with our distal phalanges across that damned bridge!” Ratcatcher shook her head, holding a laugh. “Now that was an embarrassing sight.” She fell silent before continuing. “Speaking of embarrassing, you have called me to talk about my performance, right? Sorry about my hesitation in battle.”

Augustus sat next to her, cracking his fingers. For a bit, they sat in silence, inhaling the smells of slightly rotten fruits and meat.

“Have I ever told you about my first time scaling a mountain?” Augustus asked, craning his neck. Seeing her shake her head, he continued. “I was a young and stupid boy with a dream of climbing Mount Skyspire. Instead of going to a proper training, I watched some videos, grabbed hooks, ropes, and the rest of the gear, and thought myself a hot shit.” A painful smile flashed on his lips. “Didn’t go well. A hook slipped from a stone, sending me all the way down from a height of nearly eighty meters, tumbling down like a sack of shit across the sharp mountainside. My pelvis got turned to dust, both kneecaps jumped out of my legs, my ribcage… Well, I’ll spare you the details. When Uncle had found me, I had to spend a week in the emergency room and, later, three months in a recovery room, enduring Uncle’s endless jokes. Feeling humiliated, I admitted to Uncle that mountaineering must be my weak point. At the end of my recovery, he took me with himself on a training course.” Augustus looked at his hands. “And in a few years afterwards, I had climbed the mountain on my own. And a decade later, I repeated the feat, using just my fingertips and purposely disabling my legs with a special drug. That’s the crux of the issue, Elisa. You are stressing too much, thinking yourself unworthy because the situation didn’t go flawlessly.”

“It’s not…” She started talking, but Augustus cut her off.

“It is. Trust me, you are not the only one with an unhealthy obsession with the past. I called you to learn how you disposed of the bodies, and you started apologizing right off the bat. Elisa, this self-doubt of yours hinders your growth. Maybe in time you’ll become a cold-blooded murderer like me. Or not. Who cares, as long as your duty is done?” He pushed her with his shoulder. “Chin up.”

“Thanks,” Ratcatcher smiled back, easing her tension a bit and leaning back. “So, uh, why choose me for the mission out of all people? What, none of our group was available? Elina had way better grades than me and is one step away from becoming an A-class.”

“Because I can rely on you. That and Elina refused. Honeymoon and all that.” Augustus stood up. “Now, let’s sweat up a little before I hear the report.”

“Right here?” Ratcatcher jumped to her feet, taking off her belt. “I ain’t a rookie anymore, you know.”

Augustus only raised his fists to the level of his head, inviting her to make the first move. Ratcatcher let out an ear-piercing squeak to both deafen him and fake childish enthusiasm. She charged at him on all fours like a mad berserker. Noticing that his eyes were keeping watch on her hands, she wound her tail around a crate, using her own shriek to mask the sound of wood cracking.

Making a feint with her left hand, Ratcatcher brought the crate on the fellow explorator’s head, aiming to confuse him long enough to get behind him. Augustus never bought into this cheap move, throwing a single side-glance at her tail and grabbing the box with his fingers, sending it with all his might at her back. In a single fluid motion, Ratcatcher retreated to standing on two feet, allowing the crate to pass between them, and blocked a quick jab aimed at her nose with her palm. Her former mentor still had it in him! Even cushioned by her palm, the impact of his blow reverberated across her arm. Undaunted, she kicked the still flying crate, finding it stuck in place when Augustus moved his left tibia to redirect her attempt.

Not trying to compete with him in a contest of strength, Ratcatcher used the crate as a springboard to try to land a kick on Augustus’ chin, hoping to distract him long enough to get behind his back. His right palm met her left knee, the left hand grabbed Ratcatcher’s neck, sending her down like a comet.

Nope, not wanting any of that. Ratcatcher smirked, wrapping her tail around his left shoulder and tearing off his hand from her neck. Relaxing her whole body to the maximum and feeling her limbs go limp and her muscles metaphorically turn to liquid, Ratcatcher made one last gambit. Slipping from his grasp like a feather, she leaped to the right from her falling position, using her own tail to propel herself around Augustus, aiming to first grab him in a chokehold.

As she passed his shoulder, Augustus rammed her into the crates next to them, shattering a few and earning himself a punch in the side. Ratcatcher gasped, feeling the impact of his tackle reverberating in her bones along with the pain from Augustus’ elbow in her stomach. Making one last attempt to get the upper hand, she and he punched, stopping just short of each other’s chins after Augustus’ backpack fell on her head.

A moment passed, and Ratcatcher laughed, letting go of her opponent and feeling a sweat run down her back.

“Guess I became sweaty enough!” the explorator laughed happily. A clean hit! Back in their training halls, Augustus would usually just catch her in an arm-lock, slamming her face down onto mats. Well, what do you know? You really do get better with practice! Now, don’t get complacent, we have to drop him eventually!

Stepping back, she saw him put a picture of a nice-looking brown-haired man dressed in a business suit back into his backpack. “Who is the handsome? Is he single, by chance?”

“Just a dear friend from the diplomatic wing.” Seeing her confused look, Augustus sighed. “I worked as Colton’s bodyguard. Nothing of importance—really a mundane mission. Regardless, give me your report, and I must have a talk with the elder, fix this mess, and offer recumbence for our little…” He looked at three cracked crates, “fun.”

****

Ratcatcher was planning to lie down and have a nap when the door flung open and Kayleen stormed inside, carrying roasted cusack meat and clay jars that smelled of cheap booze. The Wolfkin’s fur gleamed in the dark, unmarred by the dust of her night’s adventurers. With a careless movement, Kayleen bit into her own shoulder, finding a medium-sized mite there.

“You forgot your dinner.” Mumbling through the mite’s remains, Kayleen threw meat and two jars to the explorator.

Her belly rumbled, and Ratcatcher sank her teeth into meat, enjoying over-spiced pleasure. Clearly, the food was cooked with a host of broken rules when it comes to hygiene and all that, but she couldn't care less about any of that. Planet knows, she ate far worse things back in the Scrapyard. And cheap alcohol helped her wash away the day’s fatigue.

Kayleen pushed herself into a space between two crates, barely fitting in, with her power armor resting behind her. Curling herself into a fetus position, the Wolfkin began licking her fingers, picking pieces of meat off her claws. Her amber eyes trailed every move of the other woman.

“Not a fan of killing, I gather?” The Wolfkin grumbled, pouring booze down her throat.

“Nope,” Ratcatcher admitted.

“You handled the job well enough. Keep it up.” Kayleen saluted her with a jar, uncorking it with her jaws rather than her fingers. Unbothered by the clay pieces, Kayleen poured the booze down her throat.

“Thanks. How is Smar? Nothing bad happened?”

“Bad? She caught two arrows! On her first try!” Kayleen’s laughter echoed against the walls. “The girl’s a natural. I just can’t figure her out. Each time I’m near her, my instincts are screaming to cut it and run. No idea what in the Abyss is going on.”

Ratcatcher felt how alcohol loosened her tongue a bit: “Say, have you ever had any regrets about doing some really awful mess in the past that you just can’t stop thinking of?”

“Who doesn’t?” The Wolfkin snorted. “You know how the Wolf Tribe runs? Strong dominate the weak, males are the bottom, and all that? Here is a funny one. Years ago, honored Dragena brought us a new wolf hag. A weird one named Annie, all soft and dreamy. I did the reasonable thing and beat the shit out of her, nearly breaking every bone in her body.” Kayleen gulped the rest of the alcohol from her jar. “So, a year or so ago, just as I was planning to dominate another weakling, this fool kicked my ass. Fair and square. And let me stay in charge on the condition that all dominations cease in our pack. Surprised, I asked what the Abyss and Annie admitted, straight to my snout, that I am more knowledgeable than her and the pack has need of me staying a leader. With Dragena’s death, guess who is my warlord now?”

“Annie,” Ratcatcher hiccuped, finishing the third jar. Deciding that she had enough, she put two more aside and concentrated on the meat. “And now you feel bad about beating her…”

“What? No! I would’ve done the same thing ten times over! No, it’s not she who’s the problem. It’s everyone else’s. Ya see, she banned all dominations in our pack, promotions aside, of course. No longer you can walk up to a male and make him broken,” Kayleen licked out the drink from her lips. She fell silent, a dark shape with bright amber eyes shining even through the darkness. When she spoke again, her voice became softer. “And we have gotten none weaker. Not one bit. So now I am thinking. All those whom I broke, all the bones I shattered, ears that I have bitten off, and eyes that popped beneath my fingers… Was there any sense in any of that? I’m not bothered by living the way I was taught; only the outcome of my actions bothers me. If dominations don’t make us stronger, the Abyss are they good for then? Oh, well, only Spirits know. As for me, I believe in Warlord Annie, even if she is slipping lately. So… I told you my story.” The Wolfkin’s amber eyes focused on the explorator, curious and demanding at the same time. “What’s your beef with the past?”

Ratcatcher hesitated. She rarely shared this part of her life with anyone. It felt… not just wrong, but shameful. When she first told it to Augustus, he only shook his shoulders, making no commentary and treating her in no way differently. Lada sent her to the counseling sessions, which helped numb the sense of guilt. And Artificer… The Elite just told her to live on.

Enough lingering in the past. Decided Ratcatcher, looking at the ceiling. Her team has a right to know what sort of person she is.

“It’s… It’s about my first kill. I was just a kid back then. My mother was still pregnant with my brother. It fell to me and Dad to find food.” The memories of that day—fear, horror, and the smell of blood—came together all at once, threatening to drown her. “We lived in the Scrapyard, a pile of trash near the city. Locals viewed us as monsters and… Well, it is what it is. One day, a hunter party came. One of their number, a woman about my current age, had spotted me and fired a shot that took away a tip of my shoulder.’” She patted herself on the fur coat. After the Scrapyard joined Iterna, doctors worked miracles on Ratcatcher’s ruined shoulder, restoring even her damaged bone and utterly eliminating any sign of the scar.

“It was a beam weapon and thus indirectly saved my hide by preventing the bleeding. I leaped into tunnels, and she followed. But unlike her, I knew my way around and got a drop of her, too afraid of accidentally leading the hunters to my family. I… I run a steel spike through her belly. She cried and screamed, thrashing in the dark of the narrow tunnel. The hunter begged me for help, to spare her life and help her reach a medical kit. I…” Ratcatcher licked her lips nervously. “I blocked the tunnel she was in and ran to find Dad, too afraid to come any closer. When we came back, the hunter was long dead.”

“And? I fail to see the problem,” Kayleen said after a long pause. “Is this it? For a moment, I mistook it for something serious. I thought maybe you ate someone or betrayed someone, but this?”

“I killed her, Kayleen!” Ratcatcher jumped to her feet, slashing a jar into pieces with her tail. “A person who begged for my help. No doubt she too had a family home, just like me.” She clenched her fists, feeling how the alcohol was fueling her rage. “It’s been eating me for a while. I had an obvious choice to make, the woman wasn’t a danger anymore. Anyone makes mistakes in their lives! Anyone! And instead of helping, I entombed her and run…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Who knows… Maybe she could’ve turned her life around and become like me. Ever since then I swore to be better, to treat any life better.”

A sound of moving crates snapped Ratcatcher out of her thoughts. Kayleen walked next to Ratcatcher, her head taller, the amber light of her eyes illuminating Ratcatcher’s face. The steel paw grabbed the explorator by the face, forcing eye contact between the two women.

“Iternians are weird,” Kayleen stated softly. “Why do you always assign the best qualities even to the worst scum? Your kill was legitimate, Ratcatcher, the bitch hunted down a freaking cub! If her death had shaped you into the caring person you are nowadays, I’d call this an absolute win. Fuck her and her future.”

Shouts of fear and the sound of running legs from the above ate away at Ratcatcher’s answer. She grabbed her belt, allowing the nanomachines to flow around her body, once more forming her trusted armor. Kayleen followed in her steps, leaping after the power armor. A single seam opened at the breastplate, allowing Kayleen to first push her legs inside, then her torso and arms, and finally put on the helmet. Grabbing their weapons, both women met Augustus at the stairs leading above.

“After me.” He put one hand on a saber’s hilt. “Let’s survey the situation.”