Greater Wyrm 5.8

[Diving]

— Ancalagon —

The race to the Second Dive’s endgame was on. Every party had its direction. Those leads for my assigned objective had come from the locals that each party had allied or interacted with.

The Fenrir party learned where to go from their new Glowpunk warband. How that warband had come about was really rather simple.

Hookwolf reveled in violence. It was why he’d joined up with the Dive so eagerly. But he wasn’t here for the pure and wholesome thrill of the fight, like the Dojo; he reveled in violence as a way to enforce his power on others.

Thus, the moment he’d had the chance, he’d gone the route of diplomacy by force and strength and conquest. He’d barged right into the Glowpunk camp, slaughtered their chieftain, and whipped the rest into a desperate frenzy.

He’d gotten the tribe behind him with a simple war cry, “C’MON, YOU SONS OF BITCHES, DO YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?!”

With that, he offered a hated, desperate, side-lined group of people — some of the worst off in the Zone — the chance to be more, to do something about their shit lots in life, and to go out in a blaze of glory with him at the head. The rest, it could be said, was history.

Similarly, New Wave and Faultline’s newly combined party — deciding to stick together after their fight — were led to the endgame by the Ghost Rats.

The Hoard and Undersiders were led by their MMVV-infected allies. Such guidance was still a necessity for the Hoard. They might’ve been the most familiar with the Sixth World from prior experience, but they didn’t know every secret of the Zone better than those who lived within it.

Lady’s party and their Saeder-Krupp employer were running the race based on reports Medusa received on the Hoard’s movements. They were hoping to cut them off, and the fact that they were being led to the endgame was just a bonus.

The MOX already knew something the others didn’t, having communed directly with a spirit of the Zone. I was purposefully keeping my eyes off them so the eventual reveal of their Fae knowledge wasn’t spoiled for the stream.

Finally, the Guild party was best off, since they had a bird’s eye view of the developing race. And Garou, having barely survived to escape Amy’s new magical wrath, had renewed his hunt for his prey, undoubtedly hoping to crash the endgame party.

In all, though, every remaining adventurer in the Dive was headed for Volklingin and the perpetual storm that engulfed it. It would be chaos. Glorious, adventuring chaos, as parties clashed and competed to be the last alive.

Technically, the MOX had already half-completed the Dive’s overarching objective, but that would do them little good until they laid physical eyes on what they’d learned and survived past that to extract from the Zone. They would have their work cut out for them there, and not just from the PvP they were running straight into; there was also the very literal PvE to consider, with the storm that raged all around the Dive’s final objective.

With the endgame rapidly approaching, I thought it was a good time to let the eliminated parties say their piece.

“Crystal,” I asked. “How do you feel that your killer has managed to escape his death for now?”

“Kinda bullshit…” Crystal put on a pout and grumble before breaking into a carefree smile. “Nah, it’s fine. Amy will get him next time. She almost had him, did you see~? Her spells were awesome!”

“They were certainly… something,” Carol said, looking constipated to admit that much. “I didn’t realize she was so magically inclined.”

“We’re proud of her, though,” Neil quickly cut in, reassuring.

“She’ll grow well from here,” I nodded. “Isis is a perfect guide to most all things spiritual and magical, and Amy is also rather close to my Belladonna, so if she needs a more mortal take on magic, she can come to her.”

“She… is?” Carol blinked. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“Amy can keep her own friends, Aunt Carol,” Crystal said, firm but gentle. “We don’t need to know every little thing about her life. It’s a good thing that she’s stretching her wings.”

“It is…” Carol sighed. “I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it, from both her and Victoria. I doubt they’ll remain in the nest now that the Dungeon is on the table…”

“And the rest of you?” I asked, turning to the Dive’s immediate viewing gallery. “How are you enjoying the show? Your time in the Dive itself? Are you looking forward to any clash to come?”

“I’ll admit to some bias, but I am cheering for Dragon and her party to win the day,” Armsmaster replied, nodding.

“They are easy to root for,” I chuckled.

“I am similarly biased,” Kaiser said. “As difficult as he can be, I am hoping Hookwolf and his party will be the ones who emerge victorious. With a warband at their backs, it’s not out of the question at all.”

“He assumed control of the fodder well,” Krieg agreed. “I can’t deny that he has a certain force of personality that makes it natural to follow him into battle.”

“Vista’s gonna rip him to fucking pieces,” Shadow Stalker taunted.

“Ehhh~? Shadow, are you actually rooting for one of our teammates? What has the world come to!” Clockblocker teased.

“Shut up, First Blood,” Shadow Stalker shot back. “She’s earned my respect. You didn’t earn a scrap.”

“We were up against the Director! And we were ambushed! It wasn’t a fair showing at all!” Kid Win insisted.

“Still, we should have been more prepared and alert,” Armsmaster said. “The Director’s ambush was well-executed, but if — for example — I decided to forgo my motorcycle and ride in the IFV with you, we might have stood a better chance at rallying. These are lessons we must learn, things we must do better next time.”

“Honestly, running into her first was just unlucky. I’m sure you would’ve put on a better showing against anyone else,” Dauntless consoled.

“We will,” Armsmaster nodded, determined. “Next time.”

“I’m not sure I’m all that eager to run back into the Dungeon at the next open chance,” Gallant admitted.

“Sucks to suck, coward,” Shadow Stalker snapped. “Go on, sit back and let the real adventurers grow.”

“Like you?” Gallant retorted.

“Duh. I’m getting back in there as soon as I can, even if I have to run solo,” Shadow Stalker declared.

“Diving the Dungeon without anyone to watch your back sounds like an exercise in frustration,” Crystal said, considering the idea.

“Maybe,” Shadow Stalker shrugged. “But it means there won’t be anyone to hold me back, either.”

Kid Win turned to Clockblocker, “If Gallant’s bowing out, you wanna get Aegis in on this and see if Vista will show us the ropes once the Dungeon officially opens?”

“Our noble, amazing, ungodly powerful Magical Girl Vista?” Clockblocker asked, theatrically swooning. “Oh, but would she even lower herself to dive with low-level peasants such as us~?”

“You’ll have your choice of how you challenge the Dungeon once it officially opens its doors,” I told them and everyone watching. “These ‘test’ dives are not the only template adventurers can follow. As Shadow Stalker says, you can dive alone, at your own risk. Or you can recreate parties of four such as the ones we’ve seen so far. Or if you are bold and coordinated enough, you can string several parties into a larger expeditionary force.

“Just be prepared for the Dungeon to return the favor and reply in kind. It will… match your energy, so to speak, whatever challenge you put to it coming right back at you.”

‘I’m genuinely having trouble containing myself after all this. I can hardly wait for those doors to open!’

‘I’m gonna get ahead of the curve: LFG to go material harvesting. Leave the capes to fight it out; we’ll be busy making ourselves rich.’

‘Dude, fuck cape gangs, we might end up with adventurer guilds soon enough!’

‘Call me crazy, but I think Shadow Stalker might be onto something. Solo’s the way to go, especially if the Dungeon’s gonna match that energy.’

‘We’ll see if you’re saying that the moment you run into dedicated PvPers.’

‘Nah, party teamwork all the way. Just gotta find people you trust for it.’

‘Oh, God, can party members backstab each other? I don’t see why they wouldn’t be able to with all Ancalagon preaches about choice in adventure… That adds a whole other layer to the Dungeon. I swear, it’s all sounding so… real.’

‘I know what you mean. It’s just, like… life, but fantastical. I suppose that’s all adventure really is, taking the chance to live to the fullest.’

I chuckled at the comments in chat, “That earnest weight of possibility — the complexities of well-lived life — is exactly what I’m after with my Dungeon. I want this Age to push itself — to live and die, betray and cooperate, fail and overcome, profit and lose, innovate and persist. I want growth, development, and an abundance of new experiences. I want, above anything else, the Turning of this Age, and I am honored to invite all of you to ride that Turning with me.”

“Until these doors officially open, however,” I continued. “We will content ourselves with this glimpse of all that is to come.

“The Fenrir party is on the warpath. What remains of New Wave and Faultline ride to the end, battered but not yet beaten. The Hoard and Undersiders are eager to win it all, no matter the opposition arrayed against them. The Guild and their Renraku allies circle the race from above, waiting for their best opportunity to slip in. Lady’s party and her SK employer come to challenge and crush the Hoard. Garou still stalks the shadows, continuing his Hunt. And the MOX, their advantage yet unknown, race to the finish line.”

“The end of the Second Dive draws near, and we bear witness to the start of adventure, a phenomenon that will only grow from here. So I wonder, I wonder~…” I hummed and grinned. “Who will emerge victorious from the first contested adventure of this newly Turning Age?”

IIIII

— Garou —

Heroes, heroes, heroes… And the villains, too. Capes, all of them… Garou would Hunt.

He would prove that their time at the top of the world was over, thanks to the coming of the Dragon and magic for everyone. He would prove it by humbling the capes as only one who’d known their oppressive boots could.

He could humble the capes now; he had the power. And so he would. It was as simple as that in his mind.

The Wild Huntsman agreed, “~It is the way of the wild, taking sustenance with a roar, a screech, a bellow, and bark. Your sustenance just so happens to come in the form of bringing apex predators to the level of prey, of leveling the natural order so it may rise anew.”

Garou raced through the wild of the Zone, following the trail of the prey he’d been forced to retreat from. He strides ate ground beneath him, sometimes on two legs, sometimes on four. The critters naturally knew to stay out of his way, shying away from the spiritual scent of a beast on the Hunt.

Unfortunately, he didn’t come across the prey he was tracking first; instead finding a convoy of metal — weapons, armor, and advanced tech.

That was fine. Some of the convoy were still flesh, and Garou could smell cape flesh among their numbers. He would wet his lips with the hot blood of those capes before he continued hunting his intended prey.

He slipped through the shadows, easily keeping up with the convoy. A head poked out of one of the convoy vehicles’ top hatches — small, blonde, and intently looking around with a scowl on her young face.

Vista, Garou realized. Still a cape. Still suitable prey. She was searching for him; he felt that realization as goosebumps on the back of his neck. Best to help her find him, then.

From between the trees, between the shadows of perception, Garou launched his ambush. He pounced, flying through the air at the convoy and the prey’s little head sticking out.

Space stretched and warped as Vista reacted. Garou powered through, fueling his ambushing leap with the Wild Huntsman’s magic. But the delay was enough for someone — something — else to interrupt his Hunt.

A man leaped back from the vehicle ahead of Vista’s, intercepting Garou mid-pounce. He was no cape, but he wasn’t a fellow cape-oppressed, either. Garou felt no kinship with the normal-looking monster, and he smelt no flesh upon his bones.

The metal monster masquerading as a man placed a hand on the katana at his waist. The martial artist in Garou started, interrupting the wild hunting he’d fallen into. He recognized the stance, the fluid and powerful grace, the transcendent skill.

This was a master, a true master; one to rival Bang-Sensei, Garou could see that from the monster’s movements alone.

By the time he realized that and tried to adjust his approach, falling back into the mindset of a martial artist, not a wild hunter, it was already too late.

The man somehow found his footing in mid-air and drew his blade with one smooth, awe-inspiring motion. Iaijutsu, masterfully done, the peak of skill combined with transhuman augmentation.

Garou didn’t even feel the cut that split him from waist to opposite shoulder.

As his world dissolved, his Dive over, Garou found he didn’t mind. Not after witnessing such mastery in motion, not after regrounding himself. He’d lost himself to the Hunt; it was a worthwhile dao, but not the only one he wished to pursue.

The masterful metal monster’s cut taught him something as he died to it: his wildness was an advantage, to be sure, one that would make him an ascendant cape-hunter, but it was also best tempered with discipline.

Garou blinked through ‘death’ and found himself back in the Dragon’s Tower with his sensei giving him a knowing, closed-eye smile, “What have you learned, my student?”

Skill, discipline, tempering, they still had their place. Garou nodded; he took the lesson well. Still, that didn’t mean he would give up on the Hunt.

“Sensei, I know what art I will create now, what art I will call my own…” Garou said. “You have your Water Stream; I shall have my Tempered Hunt.”

IIIII

— Ancalagon —

‘Oh… Oh, shit. Cyborg samurai is NO JOKE, is he?’

‘We all saw the damage Garou was doing. The SK Samurai took him out in a single cut.’

‘The NPCs can be just as dangerous as the players, it seems.’

‘That’s what Lady allied with…? As if her party wasn’t already terrifyingly competent enough!’

‘Looks like Medusa really didn’t play around with the support she brought to the table. Lady’s party really seems like the frontrunner to me. They’ve got futuristic armor and weapons, Lady’s leadership, Vista for hard-hitting area control, and the SK cyborgs to back ‘em all up, too.’

The combined Lady-SK convoy continued on after Garou’s ambush as if nothing had happened. That agent of chaos was out of the Dive — something of a surprise considering his showing so far. But sometimes, that was just how things went.

“Garou’s mistake was delving too deeply into the resonance he found with his totem,” Jenevelle commented. “He was losing himself until the samurai brought him back to his senses. Not quite a berserker, but certainly wild, and that affected his decision-making.”

“There is a lesson there,” Calamitas agreed. “One that our audience should learn just as well as Garou. Throwing oneself completely into the spiritual will change a soul. Not always for the worst, not always for the better. One must always be aware of the risks.”

I chuckled, “I’m sure many in our audience are taking notes. There will likely be a whole new wiki for Earth Bet to refer to after this Dive is over; we’ve certainly seen enough new information to spawn one.

“Who is it that tends to the current Cape Wiki? Valkyrie on PHO, no? If she wishes to make a similar one for adventure, I would ask that she contact the Adventurer Corps. We might be able to help her in that pursuit and make it something official, to boot.”

‘Hear that, @ Valkyrie? The Dragon’s giving you permission to do what you do best!’

‘I doubt she’ll pass up the chance.’

‘That sounds like a good thing in the making, right there. With how prominent the Dungeon is quickly becoming and how many sound like they’re going to jump straight into adventure, a central gathering place for information will be a Godsend (Dragon-send…?).’

“The Adventurer Corps will also offer information on the Dungeon and its adventures as part of its services,” Jenevelle said. “Along with the tutorial that all adventurers will be required to pass before they can begin.

“But it will be nice to have someone with experience gathering and presenting such information. Someone to maintain the archive. So yes, Valkyrie, I would ask that you and your team contact me; we can do something rather special together, I would think.”

‘Congrats, Valkyrie! You’re entering the big leagues!’

‘I don’t think anyone deserves the opportunity more. She works really, really hard on the Cape Wiki.’

‘Please, please, PLEASE make it a wikia and not a fandom page…!’

Finally, in chat, Valkyrie made herself known, ‘Hey, never! Professionals have standards! But yeah, I’m very much interested, Ancalagon, Jenevelle! I’ve already been workshopping unofficial pages (one for the Labyrinth of the First Dive and everything in it, and one more for the SOX that’s still under development); I’d love to make them official Corps resources!’

Jenevelle nodded at that chat message, “We’ll make it so.”

Content with that small but rather intriguing development — it would be a very handy tool for the Corps — I turned back to the stream and switched the view off the continuing convoy.

I chose my Hoard party to focus on next. The moment my eyes (and the eyes of the stream) were on them, Dharla and Belladonna turned their own eyes skyward, twinkling with amusement as they felt the subtle viewing magicks at work.

The Hoard’s convoy wasn’t nearly as hurried as they might’ve been if they knew what all was racing against them, but now that those two had noticed my eyes on them, they seemed determined to put on an interesting show — in conversation if not action.

“So, Princess Pyrite, what will you do when you win the day and earn your father’s praise?” Dharla asked.

Pyrite scoffed, “I always have Daddy’s praise! I only need to ask, and he’ll lavish me with attention as is right and proper!”

“He does spoil you,” Belladonna chortled. “But I would think this would offer an opportunity for a different brand of praise, no?”

Pyrite nodded sagely, “Earned praise does feel better. But I don’t think I have to worry about not getting it. We’ve already done a lot!”

“Yes, we’ve witnessed an astral storm, hunted for anomalies in its aftermath, added a fascinating bit of loot to your Hoard, hunted one SK force, vassalized another party in the Dive, and gained the lead on Ancalagon’s main objective that we now follow,” Dharla nodded.

Tagging in, Belladonna innocently wondered, “Ah, but is that enough to sate your Draconic ambitions?”

“Never!” Pyrite immediately denied. “I won’t be satisfied until we win this Dive, until we emerge with whatever we find of Feuerschwinge held victoriously overhead!”

Dharla chucked, “And there’s the determination we like to see from you, Princess. Lead us well, then. You are not just responsible for our party now, after all. You must look out for your vassals, too. Their performance will reflect upon you, as will their condition at the end of the Dive.”

Hearing that, Pyrite turned her attention onto the Undersiders, glaring with a fire in her eyes, “That’s right! You lot aren’t allowed to die until I say so! I’ve taken you under my wing, and if you let yourself fail or falter, it comes back on me!”

“We’ll do our best, I’m sure,” Regent drawled. “I don’t particularly want to taste death, even if it’s only simulated by the Dungeon.”

“Say…” Tattletale hesitated. “Does that protection extend outside the Dungeon, too…?”

“You are my Hoard’s vassals,” Pyrite scoffed as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “I’ve claimed you.”

“Oh, thank Dragon…” Tattletale exhaled in relief.

“Tats? What’s that about?” Grue asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Tattletale assured him. “For now, let’s just say it feels good to be under new management.”

“Hn,” Bitch grunted. “New pack stronger than old pack. Happy.”

“I don’t know if Ancalagon intended for one party to end up as another’s loot,” Belladonna noted, amusement in her voice.

“I mean…” Grue hesitated before making a leader’s decision based on Tattletale’s almost frantically encouraging nod. “If you’ll have us…?”

“I will!” Pyrite laughed, throwing her head back to the heavens. “I will have you! You’re mine, Undersiders! Part of my growing Authority and Hoard, now!”

“No matter what the future holds, the extra support right now is welcome,” Glory said. “We’re racing into the storm now. I don’t know what to expect when we get in there…”

In front of the Hoard’s convoy, the storm around Volklingin could be seen clearly now. It was ‘clouds’ of magic and chaotic metaplanar interference that reached to space, but only became visible when one entered the storm’s astral gravity.

A pillar of every color under the sun, and more still, roiling and churning constantly. Pink rammed against black, bursting into a fleeting vision of nebulous space. Yellow spiraled around neon green, vibrancy flowing from one into the other. Purple came apart in blues and reds that tore the very air from the sky at the edges of the storm.

It was almost conceptual turmoil, unsettled chaos that could never rest. And all of the remaining parties in the Second Dive were racing straight towards it.

I knew what awaited them within, to a degree, for it was history recreated by the Dungeon. But even my knowledge of astral phenomena could never be complete. Once the Dungeon had set this slice of the Sixth World in motion, it’d taken on a life of its own.

Glory not knowing what awaited them within the storm and Volklingin was telling. She had the most prior knowledge about the main objective I’d assigned to the Dive, having met Feuerschwinge for herself during the shadowrun where we’d first met in the last Age.

But that prior knowledge was relevant to Berlin, not the SOX. My SOX adventure this Dive was pulling from had been a solo affair, a matter of personal interest, so Glory couldn’t know how Feuerschwinge came into play here as opposed to how she’d encountered the diminished Great Dragon in Berlin. The truth of the situation would be just as much of a surprise to her as it was to everyone else.

For now, the storm of the Dive’s endgame drew closer and closer. The parties would have to delve deep into the astral force of nature to find out more.

Until they reached the edge of the storm, however, the race itself took precedence. The Hoard party had an easy time of it, but they wouldn’t get there first at their current pace.

That initial victory would go to Lady’s party and their SK allies, wishing to set the stage for their true targets’ arrival. But even if they got there first, they wouldn’t remain uncontested for very long at all.

IIIII

— Missy Biron, Vista —

Their convoy had reached the storm around Volklingin with little issue. The only event of note had been that Garou guy leaping at Missy from the shadows as they’d moved. And he’d been handily handled by Geralt, Medusa’s samurai and right-hand man-… err, cyborg.

Missy still felt anticipation rising in her bones; things could only pick up from here.

Part of that sensation might’ve been from standing at the edge of a storm like the one around Volklingin. It was a constant, deafening roar in her ears, her power’s senses, and her newfound magical senses, too.

She could already tell that the storm would make space extra malleable for her. It was also a confusing mess of [IMPOSSIBLE] stimulation, though.

At the edge of the storm, Missy could sense the other side and nothing in between. She could sense up become sideways and sideways become the smell of burning. She could sense space resistant to her manipulations, but also so eager to do something, anything nonsensical.

Her power was doing flips, and Zeus was laughing all the while.

“~AHAHAHAH!” The Sky-Father’s laugh was a booming thing, like thunder. “Do you and your Shard truly think you can wrangle such chaos so easily? ’Tis folly! I like it! A King of Space should be so BOLD!

“~So I ask you, Missy… Are you a King? Will you bend this spirited chaos to your will, or will you fall in your attempted usurpation? Can you defeat the will that drives this storm?”

Missy grumbled to herself and her totem, ‘Just frickin’ watch me…’

The others didn’t seem to carry the same spite Zeus had inspired in Missy. Medusa even seemed wary, the first Missy had seen such a weakness in the snakey corporate woman.

“Shall we set up an ambush here, then?” Medusa asked, pointedly not looking into the storm.

“You think they’ll just come to us?” Lady raised an incredulous brow.

“… No, I suppose they wouldn’t,” Medusa sighed. “If we want any hope of ambushing the ickle Dragon, we’ll have to delve deep. Yet, the moment we do, we’ll be at the whims of the astral, and that is no small issue.”

“We could prowl the edge, Madam,” Geralt, the SK Samurai, suggested. “We would just have to be aware that there is a good chance our foes will slip past us.”

“No, we’ll take the initiative here,” Lady declared. “We go in there, make it work, and fuck up everyone we find inside before they can make it to the center.”

“Thinking you can tame such a storm is foolhardy,” Medusa scoffed.

“Maybe,” Lady allowed. “But I’ll take my chances. We’ve got an advantage none of the others have, after all. We have Vista.”

Missy preened at the faith the Director was putting in her, “What’s a little storm before the King of Space?”

“Not queen? Not princess?” Xian teased.

“King,” Missy shot back resolutely.

Lady snorted a laugh, “Better be able to back up that title, then, Short-Space.”

Missy glared back in challenge, “Watch. Me.”

“Good,” Lady nodded. “Keep that fire. Militia, you’re watching her back. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lady,” Miss Militia agreed. “The storm will have to pry me off her.”

“Don’t tempt the astral like that,” Medusa warned.

“We’re going in, then, Sir?” Maia asked; she stretched before checking her railgun rifle. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to give us the overwatch we deserve.”

“Just keep those eyes peeled and stick close,” Lady ordered, glaring at Medusa. “That goes for all of us. You hired me for this, so you’ll obey my orders. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Medusa drawled, waving her hand dismissively. For some reason, Missy didn’t think she meant it…

Dismounting from the convoy, everyone grouped up and prepared to brave the storm. It was an intimidating thing, pure chaos stretching to the heavens and deep enough that Missy couldn’t glimpse the bottom. Licking wings of fire emerged from the edge like solar flares at every opening.

Still, they marched forward. It was at the last moment, an instant of clarity before chaos, that Missy sensed ‘guests’ coming in behind them.

“Incoming!” She shouted right as their party crossed the storm’s threshold. “Behind us! Hookwolf!”

She had just that moment to register Hookwolf and what looked like a whole warband racing at their backs. Then, they were in the storm. Magical winds whipped around them, obscuring both visual perception and the perception of Missy’s power. She lost track of the attack from the rear.

Lady was quick to organize the party in the obscured moment at the inward edge of the storm. They turned and hunkered down, trying their best to ignore the chaos biting at them from every angle.

The troopers had their guns up in moments. Miss Militia was just as quick, a futuristic grenade launcher shifting into her hands.

Any reasonable person would’ve hesitated before diving into the storm after them. Hookwolf was rarely (if ever) called reasonable. He didn’t hesitate, and soon enough, came leaping through the nigh-solid storm with his warband right behind.

They entered view about 100 meters to the party’s right, despite having come from right behind them, as the storm shifted space as easily as Missy did.

But then, there was Hookwolf, larger than Missy had ever seen him. He looked like he could’ve actually rival the late Lung right now. A beastly, devouring hunger radiated from his transformed body, something spiritual.

He’d awakened to a literally apocalyptic totem, Missy remembered then. Fenrir, the Norse Wolf of Ragnarok. And now, he looked the part, his power boosted to new heights by magic.

Behind him, the warband was made up of his party’s IFV and a dozen more local vehicles. Zone dwellers hung from them, Mad Max-style — hooting and hollering after the apocalypse beast leading them. They looked uniquely suited to weather a storm like this one.

Immediately, the warband opened fire upon Lady’s party. One of their vehicles was swept away by a storm-wing of fire, and still, they were undeterred. The only silver lining was their accuracy, leaving much to be desired.

The troopers, Miss Militia, and the range-equipped cyborgs from Saeder-Krupp’s side of things replied in kind, and much more effectively.

Miss Militia’s grenades took out another warband vehicle, setting it off in a fireball that really shouldn’t have been sparked, like something straight out of Hollywood. Missy felt the storm aiding and abetting all things fiery.

Maia sniped the driver out of another warband vehicle. Xian showed off his new bio-augmentation by picking off the madmen hanging off that car like they were targets in a gun range speed trial. Luiz controlled his tank drone to send an armor-piercing round at the IFV.

The rest of Hookwolf’s party scrambled out of the IFV before Luiz’s tank-drone shot it to pieces. Victor began firing back at the troopers with a similar level of skill. All of his shots pinged off their new armor, and then, Lady picked him off in return with two to the chest and one to the head.

Victor burst into a shower of gold before Othala could make him invulnerable. Rune threw herself and a piece of shielding debris in front of her friend before Othala could follow Victor into PvP gold.

Then, Hookwolf, still barrelling down upon his enemies, was upon them. The melee-focused SK cyborgs stepped up to meet and stall him. One was ripped apart instantly, flying metal becoming one with the surrounding storm.

Another two were thrown clear by the rampaging apocalypse wolf. A particularly vicious gust of magic swept up another when Hookwolf pinned them with his paw. The pinned cyborg… ceased to be, and for a moment, Hookwolf’s paw went the same way before it regenerated in growing blades.

Miss Militia launched another grenade to force Rune and Othala from their cover before turning to support the fight against Hookwolf. She shifted her grenade launcher for an anti-material rifle and shot it standing.

Hookwolf roared and laughed as more blades were blown clear of his body, “Give me all you’ve got, cunts! You won’t be able to stop the apocalypse! I-! AM-! INEVITABLE!”

Seeing that the cyborg weren’t making any progress against Hookwolf, that they were barely holding the line, Lady got Missy’s attention and gave her a nod: permission to let loose.

Missy nodded back and took a breath. She reached, driving her will against the storm for dominance. The storm roared back in her face, something definitively Draconic that made Missy’s knees shake.

“~Declare your right to rule, King of Space!” Zeus shouted from her soul. “This storm will recognize burgeoning Authority better than most!”

Still, she pushed and pushed until the storm gave up some modicum of control. She wrapped Hookwolf up in what little control she’d won.

“Hi, Inevitable, I’m Vista-,” She said.

She gave a mighty shove, forcing Hookwolf through space, deep into the storm and deeper still. She forced Hookwolf past the astral and into a metaplane that was drawn near by the storm, one of pure, violent fury.

That metaplane wasn’t the source of the storm, Missy sensed. It was just drawn so near by the storm’s independent conceptual fury, resonating. Missy took advantage of that proximity to throw Hookwolf straight into its depths; he became frozen in space, still visible but somehow so, so, so very distant.

“~You are no longer danger close,” Zeus told her; she could feel his excitement at what she had planned.

“-Let me show you some real world-ending firepower,” Missy finished.

Right in front of Hookwolf’s snout, Missy split an atom.

That metaplane of pure fury was explosively introduced to blinding, all-consuming nuclear fission — the instantenous shattering of a fundamental force and its immediate, devastating consequences.

There was a flash. An unraveling. An explosion of not just physical but conceptual destruction, too, cascading to even further fury thanks to the metaplane it took place in.

In the physical plane, the minor apocalypse Missy sparked was eerily silent. She still heard something Draconic behind, beneath, within, and all throughout the storm roar in approval, in raging regret, in triumphant, awesome witness.

With a few blinded blinks of the eye, the fight had paused. There was enough of a lull for Lady to turn to Missy with a rather questioning quirk of her eyebrow.

“You know, that nod I gave you absolutely did not mean permission to nuke him…”

“Frankly, Director?” Missy shrugged. “If it works, it works.”

IIIII

— Ancalagon —

Hookwolf appeared back in the tower, still transformed, though it was now fading. He blinked at his abrupt change in surroundings, not quite comprehending how quickly and absolutely he’d died.

‘… Welp, if there were any doubts about the Dungeon’s insurance policy, I doubt they hold any water now.’

‘I mean, yeah, if he can pull you back from a nuke, he can pull you back from anything.’

‘Can we talk about that for a moment?! Ya know, the NUKE that Vista just served Hookwolf like she was worried she’d never get the chance again???’

‘LOL, she made him eat that shit!’

‘What’s there to talk about? Vista goes crazy; this is known. Admittedly, I didn’t know she went THIS crazy…’

‘How the hell did no one know Vista was nuclear capable?’

‘If I were the PRT, the nuclear-powered tween wouldn’t be something I was readily advertising.’

‘Has she… always been able to do that? Or is it new? Or some magic? Either way, how hard has Vista been sandbagging?!’

“That nuclear capability,” I explained, chuckling. “Is a result of Vista’s Second Trigger. She witnessed my tower going up firsthand, and her power struggled to cope enough that it was pushed to evolve. What you see now is the result.

“There is a small curiosity of physics that you have to come to terms with to explain it: space is the fabric beneath most, if not all, of the physical universe. Natural laws and fundamental forces all bear a connection to space, and with Vista’s newly improved power, she can manipulate that connection as well as space itself.

“To split that atom that sparked it all, I imagine all she had to do was push enough space into the nucleus that the weak nuclear force gave up the ghost. Then, fission was the only result that could be expected.”

‘Oh… Oh, that’s horrifying.’

‘AWESOME! That’s our Nuclear/Magical Girl Vista!’

‘That kind of power could’ve fallen into worse hands. I trust Vista; she’s one of the good ones.’

‘Still, seeing it in action is a HELL of a thing.’

In the tower, Hookwolf was finally coming around to comprehension, “I was… nuked? By the pipsqueak?”

“Looks like it, Hookwolf,” Kaiser told him. “I would hope you learned a lesson from all of this, but-…”

“I learned that the girl is fucking strong,” Hookwolf grinned a grin of blades. “No complaints here. I like that the cunts had to resort to nuking me.”

Kaiser sighed, “Yes, that’s about what I expected from you.”

Back in the Dungeon, in the storm, the rest of the Fenrir party and their allied warband were cleaned up in short order. Rune and Othala fell to well-placed rifle shots from Lady, having been forced from cover by Miss Militia’s grenadier support.

The locals were cleaned up by the whole party, with the troopers and Miss Militia laying down accurate fire, the SK cyborgs working through their frustrations at being unable to touch Hookwolf, and Vista sitting back to control the field.

Lady’s party was undeniably victorious, taking only minor wounds thanks to their armor, allied support, and Vista’s sheer power. But it came at a cost.

Only momentum and determination would see someone through a storm like the one surrounding Volklingin. It’s magical winds churned and whirled in a cyclone, distorting space without those inside realizing it. The party had been forced far away from where they began during the time the fight took.

They were just about lost now. Lost to the mercy of the storm. Magic ripped open holes in the physical plane, with the astral leaking through in force. One of those holes washed over the party as they regrouped, and they found themselves on an infinite mound of defeated foes of all shapes and stripes, across all of history.

“… What the hell am I looking at?” Lady asked.

Vista answered, “It’s real and not, sir. An illusion with weight to it. I can break it.”

“Do it,” Lady nodded.

Vista was slightly wrong in her assessment, still a little too trusting in her power’s senses. The party wasn’t caught in an illusion; they were subsumed by the temporary realization of a distant metaplane through the thinned veil in the storm.

Vista’s assumption would serve them poorly as she tried to forcefully break the ‘illusion’ instead of pathing them a way out of it.

I kept the view of them in the corner of the stream and switched to the other parties approaching Volklingin and the storm. With little other choice in the matter, the other parties followed Lady’s lead without realizing it. They could only delve into the astral chaos.

Pyrite did so enthusiastically, leading the Hoard and Undersiders without fear. Her MMVV-infected allies begged off and stayed back.

The rest of New Wave and Faultline’s party dove in similarly, with their Ghost Rat guides utterly unwilling to risk their skins that far. They were understandably hesitant, but there really was no other choice if they wanted the chance to complete the Dive’s main objective.

The MOX, despite how wary they were about being caught in more spiritual fuckery, took the risk and drove into the storm.

The Guild party, meanwhile, landed at the point in the storm that Hookwolf and Lady’s parties had entered. They knew better what they were getting into, thanks to their Renraku guides who were sticking around for the chaos. But no one could be fully prepared for a spiritual storm.

Dismounting to brave the storm on foot, the Guild party entered expecting to find the parties they were following. They didn’t. They found chaos instead, just like all the others. A ghostly serpent slithered through the storm in front of them, heralding their entrance into that perpetually thinned veil.

“Right,” Mouse Protector nodded. “As much as I want to drop everything and wrangle that nope rope, what are we actually looking at here?”

Alina shook her head, “We think we know, but we really, really don’t. Renraku has no experience in the storm around Volklingin. We’ll have to navigate it by the seat of our pants.”

“I could fly up and try to get a better view,” Dragon offered.

“Absolutely not,” Narwhal rejected the idea. “Splitting up is the worst thing we can do here, even if you stay in line of sight. We’re sticking together.”

They pushed forward, through whipping winds and magical maladies that consumed the very air around them. Dragon tried something then. Unable to get a suicidal bird’s eye view of the storm, she raised her hand and lit a fire within it.

The Fire-Bringer gave her a beacon, something to conceptually guide humanity’s steps. Bit by bit, as the beacon burned, the storm was pushed back.

At the edges of the beacon’s protection, the storm raged against that which was cutting through it. It threw lightning at the disruption. Dragon was struck with a flash, a crack, and the echo of thunder.

She yelped and faltered, missing a step. Her suit was more than enough to weather the strike, though. It would’ve all but vaporized any of the others.

“Dragon!” Narwhal called out in worry.

“I-I’m fine!” Dragon called back. “Let me bear it! I’ll be the lightning rod; just follow me!”

The storm continued to throw lightning strikes at the disrupting, pacifying beacon. Dragon weathered all of them. They struck with fury and spiritual plasma, energized to chaotic heights. Burn marks appeared on Dragon’s suit, marring the glorious green armor. Dragon forged onward through all of it.

The storm, the will behind, beneath, within, and all throughout, recognized fledgling kin in her resistance. And so, with a grumble of thunder, it ceased its strikes to acknowledge Dragon as a… well, Dragon.

There was respect there. Respect and wariness and… a plea for recognition in return. I wasn’t sure if Dragon sensed it. The will behind, beneath, within, and all throughout the storm was high-level astral and spiritual fuckery. If Dragon sensed it, she would be one step closer to uncovering the truth…

At the very least, she was successfully guiding her party through the storm. Gleaning clues from the process was up to her.

‘I knew it! Dragon’s so cool she can tame lightning!’

‘Anyone else feel… INSPIRED when they look at the flame she’s holding?’

‘Magic shit, man. It’s, like, conceptual and shit, man. Go on, give in and let your shit be enlightened… maaaaan.’

I switched the stream’s focus to the combined New Wave and Faultline parties.

They were having a much rougher time of it, the storm all but bullying them. A wave of magic threw them all off their feet. When they stood again, they were somewhere else.

Another wave began to rise. Amy scrambled to the front of the pack to meet it. She called upon Isis for guidance. The experienced spiritual magician appeared in an embrace behind Amy. Together, they split the incoming wave.

‘Damn. Panacea really is shining with all this magic stuff.’

‘I’ll bet she’s enjoying the chance to prove she can do more than heal. I know I would.’

‘We really do shove her into a single box, don’t we? Like, she’s the healer, sure. But she can be so much more. I’m happy for her.’

They forged onward but saw little progress. The storm shifted once more, and the reason for the shift became clear a moment later.

Vista had finally figured out a way out of the temporarily realized metaplane her party was stuck in. The infinite mound of bodies vanished beneath their feet, and they flickered into view for New Wave and Faultline’s parties.

Then, unfortunately for the latter, it was on sight.

“Chill, chill, chill! Hey, we don’t have to fight like this!” Victoria shouted, dodging shots from the PRT troopers.

“Director Piggot! Is this necessary?!” Sarah called out.

“Nope,” Lady called back, popping the ‘p’. “But it’ll let me work through some old frustrations, so here we are. Sorry, not sorry, New Wave.”

‘… Based.’

‘She’s a bitch, but she’s honest about it.’

‘Lol! She’s probably tired of cleaning up Glory Girl’s messes most of all.’

One shot from Lady finally winged Victoria, catching her shield and sending her tumbling. Phoenix flames surged to replace the force field.

“You bitch! I should’ve known-!” Amy shouted, airing similar old frustrations.

Lady and her party didn’t let up the assault. Twinned bursts of gunfire took the nigh-helpless Newter and Gregor out of the fight. They disappeared in showers of gold.

“Fine!” Seeing negotiations were futile, Amy cast in an instant, channeling all of her frustration. “~Adula’s Moonblade!”

A shimmering sword of moonlight appeared in her hands, spiritually summoned forth. She swung it in a wide arc, unconcerned with skill.

The blade caught Maia and Xian across the chests of their armor before they could dive out of the way. Advanced combat armor was rent like paper. Vista made space for the troopers, but it was already too late for one.

Xian took another moment to fall, as if realizing he was cut, but he did fall. His new bio-augmentations kept him alive for another moment longer than he should’ve lived before Victoria and Sarah finished Amy’s job.

Phoenix flame and laser blasts shot toward the downed trooper, hitting at the same time. He burst into a shower of gold. Maia, having been thrown back but not actually wounded by Amy’s sword swing, pulled herself up into a sitting position and took aim at the biggest threat.

Instinctively, Amy shielded herself. Maia’s railgun round penetrated the magical shield, but tumbled off course. Amy stumbled for just a moment before surging back into action.

That moment was enough for Luiz to corner Mark and Sarah with his drones — a flier for the flier and the tank-drone for the grounded enemy.

Mark tried to flare his Sun totem to blind the drone’s systems, but a flechette-buckshot tank round made that attempt pointless. He burst into a shower of gold.

Sarah dodged the flying drone as it tracked her with bursts from its mounted minigun. She was quick, but not quicker than bullets and automated targeting systems. One burst caught her, breaking a shield and stitching a line up her body. She burst into a shower of gold.

‘Just goes to show how easily the PRT could deal with most capes if they were allowed to use lethal force.’

‘I mean, New Wave are heroes at the end of the day, so I wouldn’t advocate for lethal force in the real world’s cape game. But why don’t the worst villains get that kind of treatment?’

‘Unfortunately for us regular-ass people, it really is a game to most of them. That’s why I’m rooting for Lady to finally cut loose and humble the capes.’

Then, from New Wave, only Amy and Victoria remained. Lady took care of them personally, while her troopers and Miss Militia focused fire on Faultline and Labyrinth.

The latter two fell quickly, unable to muster a defense against overwhelming gunfire. They burst into paired showers of gold.

Victoria flew in on wings of fire to buy Amy time against Lady. She took a .50 caliber bullet to her shield and another to her chest. She choked, but the wound was already healing in renewing flames.

The second chest shot and the headshot that followed didn’t heal so easily. Lady kept her composure perfectly, even with a flying, flaming brick bearing down on her. Victoria burst into a shower of gold.

With the time Victoria had bought for her, Amy cast one last spell, giving all the essence she had left, “~Meteorite of Astel!”

Her spell pierced the storm to bring down stars from the void. Purple, starry meteorites fell with fury to match the storm’s chaos. Even the will behind, beneath, within, and all throughout was impressed.

‘Oh… Oh, damn.’

‘Skyfall! It’s beautiful.’

‘Never fuck with an angry not-so-White Mage.’

A quick, snappy shot from Lady caught Amy in the forehead. But it was already too late to stop the falling meteorites. Amy went out with a vindictive smirk on her face and a raised middle finger. She burst into a shower of gold.

For an instant, through the storm, the sky fell over the victorious party. Vista tried to hold it up, but Amy’s magic pierced straight through her power, and the meteors fell anyway.

Vista was the first to go, squawking in shock when her hold over space failed. One meteor hit her directly, and she burst into gold.

Miss Militia followed, along with an unlucky SK cyborg, leaving Medusa’s forces 5-strong. They weren’t hit directly, but the explosion of falling meteors was still too much to withstand.

Lady, the main target of the spell, demonstrated her uncanny and proven ability to survive the chaos of a battlefield. It wasn’t graceful. She didn’t dance between the falling stars. She ran and dove and scrambled her way clear, but she did escape in the end.

By the end of that chance encounter in the storm, New Wave and Faultline’s parties were wiped. Xian, Vista, and Miss Militia were eliminated from the other side.

The tower bore host to a surge of extractions, but truly, I only cared for Amy’s, especially after the show she’d put on.

She appeared standing, but quickly fell straight back, panting with exhaustion. Still, she would have the last word.

“… Worth.”

IIIII

— Dragon —

The storm around Volklingin was a vicious thing. Still, it… spoke to Dragon, some kind of kinship buried deep within.

“~I sense fire in this storm. Not my brand, nothing so inspiring and guiding…” The Fire-Bringer told her. “No, it is brought on furious wings, raging at the audacity of human advancement and driven mad by what that advancement has done to the natural world.”

Dragon understood. ‘That’s why we can cut through the storm like this. That fire raging against progress and its consequences is the antithesis of your inspiring flames.’

She got the impression that the Fire-Bringer gave her a proud nod in return. Much of magic’s undefinability was still beyond her easy comprehension, but there was some logic to it. Dragon was coming to find that she could wrap her head around the concept of connections and-… well, concepts.

Still, the fact that the storm was so spirited was a worrying one. It was — if Dragon tried to put it into words —… not alive, but no dead, either. There was something animate here; she just didn’t have the context on magic and the Sixth World to truly guess at what.

The lightning tribulations that had initially resisted their party’s progress had now faded, some sort of acknowledgment from the storm itself. Dragon still kept her Fire-Bringer’s flame lit and led the way deeper. As a result, they were a bubble of passing calm in the chaos.

“This is all… so fascinating,” Myrddin muttered in breathless awe, using the calm around them to observe the storm. “I doubt many have gotten to experience this sort of view.”

“No, it’s rather unprecedented from my understanding,” Shoto agreed, shaking his head. He and Alina were eying Dragon with calculating wariness now that they’d seen her even partially tame such a magical event.

“Shame we can’t stick around to really study it all,” Dragon said, shaking her head regretfully. “I’m struggling to hold up this flame as is.”

“Then we need to get to the eye of the storm as quickly as we can,” Narwhal insisted. “Don’t overtax yourself, Dragon.”

“That’s if this storm even has an eye,” Mouse Protector pointed out. “Might be chaos all the way through, ya know?”

“I doubt it,” Myrddin shook his head. “There’s a source to this, or at the very least, a place where the storm was set in motion.”

Alina and Shoto exchanged glances before nodding to each other and speaking in sync, “The crash site.”

“That does seem the most likely,” Myrddin nodded as well.

“I’m surprised we haven’t run into any of the other parties yet,” Narwhal said.

“Yeah, sorry to say this, Dragon, but this is getting kinda boring,” Mouse Protector smirked. “Why, I’m tempted to tempt fate~…”

“Please don’t-…” Shoto began to deadpan.

Mouse Protector cut him off, loudly declaring, “Man, we really have it easy here! It’s smooth sailing!”

“-tempt the astral,” Shoto finished, sending an utterly flat look Mouse Protector’s way.

“Sorry,” Mouse Protector giggled. “I couldn’t resist.”

She laughed… and the storm laughed with her.

Dragon was only able to get out a few words before shit hit the fan, “Oh… Oh, pooh.”

With an explosion — hungry, raging wings of astral fire — the bubble of calm Dragon and the Fire-Bringer had made burst. The inspiring flame Dragon carried was snuffed out, and the storm came rushing in.

Alina was quickest on her toes, throwing up some kind of prepared magical shield. It weathered the storm’s increased attention for a few moments, long enough for the party to glare at Mouse Protector.

“Err…” Mouse Protector shifted awkwardly. “Run for it?”

“Yes, that does seem prudent,” Myrddin gave a long-suffering sigh. He was the most used to Mouse Protector’s usual antics, having to share a city with her.

Alina’s shield began to crack under the weight of the storm. In a blink, Dragon swept her and Shoto under her arms to carry them.

Narwhal increased her crystal armor, the horn on her head beginning to shine with spiritual light. It wouldn’t cut through the storm like the Fire-Bringer’s flame had, but it would be enough of a beacon to keep them together.

Mouse Protector threw one of her power-marked teleport beacons forward. It was swept away to somewhere only the spirits would know.

“Don’t use that one,” Myrddin flatly told her.

Even in the tense situation, Mouse Protector could laugh, “Yeah, I’m not THAT suicidal! Guess we’re bookin’ it on foot!”

The cracks in Alina’s shield deepened and spread. The party began to move right before it shattered entirely. Fire, wild magic, and distortions in the physical plane rushed them, and something strange happened. The wave of chaos pushed them forward instead of crushing them completely.

Swept up in the wave, Mouse Protector whooped, “Now, THIS is pod-racing!”

Dragon held onto Alina and Shoto, Narwhal grabbed Myrddin’s hand, and they may or may not have left Mouse Protector to ride the wave alone. Somehow, she managed to surf the wave while the rest of them were swept along uncontrollably.

The riptide took an eternity and was over in an instant. The party was unceremoniously dumped into a space of eerie calm, as if the Fire-Bringer’s bubble had returned. Looking up, Dragon saw clear skies. Looking around, she saw an empty crater.

Most of the party was dumped on their asses. Mouse Protector, ironically, landed on her feet with the grace of a cat.

She was grinning, “Well, that was fun! Let’s do it again on our way out!”

Dragon… ignored her for sanity’s sake. She looked closer at their new surroundings, “I suppose we’ve found the eye of the storm.”

“We were brought here, more accurately,” Myrddin said.

“Looks like we’re the first, at least,” Narwhal shook her head as she stood. “And no, Mouse, I’m not going to thank you for that.”

Mouse Protector stuck her nose up and sniffed, “How ungrateful.”

“This…” Alina said as Dragon set her and Shoto down. “We have to be the first to see this since 2012…”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Myrddin pointed out. “A rather important piece to this scene seems to be missing. And if I’m not mistaken… those look to be perfectly preserved vehicle tracks.”

Dragon saw them, the tracks, as well as the spot where they must’ve stopped, dead center in the massive crater. There, the ashen imprint of a Dragon was burned into the ground. The Dragon who created it… was nowhere to be found.

“Someone… stole Feuerschwinge…?” Shoto slowly said, shocked by the pieces he was putting together.

Just as slowly, just as shocked, Alina nodded, “Right… out from under the whole Zone’s nose…”

“How?” Shoto asked. “Genuinely, how? Feuerschwinge was a Great Dragon, and not a small or docile one. Even if she was dead on impact — which I very much doubt — how did someone get her corpse out of the Zone through the Administrative Council’s containment?”

“Magic?” Mouse Protector shrugged.

“That doesn’t explain… anything…!” Alina whisper-shouted.

“There’s a more relevant question,” Dragon pointed out. “If Feuerschwinge is actually dead, or at the very least confirmed absent… what’s been maintaining the storm for all this time?”

They wouldn’t get the chance to answer or even ponder that question. A moment later, another party burst into the cratered eye of the storm, Pyrite shouting victoriously.

“First!”

Then, she noticed she was not, in fact, first, and a rather vicious pout appeared on her face.

She stomped her foot, making the ground shake, “Oh, bullshit! How did you get to the center of the storm so fast?!”

“We, uh, kinda asked?” Mouse Protector giggled.

Belladonna, emerging from the storm at Pyrite’s side, chuckled, “Considering how odd this storm is, that may have actually done it.”

“W-Whatever!” Pyrite quickly rallied her energy. “You might’ve gotten her first, but to win the Dive, we just have to make sure we’re the last to leave! Hoard, assemble!”

“That doesn’t actually mean anything, Princess,” Dharla calmly told her. “We don’t have nearly enough practice with your new vassals to pull off some kind of formation.”

“Just-! Just get them!” Pyrite stomped her foot again. “I’ve got dibs on Dragon! It’s only fitting!”

“Oh! Uhm…” Dragon honestly found herself somewhat flustered at Pyrite’s energetic attention. “Let’s have a good fight…?”

That seemed to be the right response from how Pyrite grinned, flexed, and exploded with an aura of gold, “That’s the Draconic spirit! We’ll make a real one out of you yet! Just like me!”

Seeing conflict was inevitable, Myrddin took the initiative to step forward and bow to Belladonna, “Archmage, I would be honored if you would grant me this duel.”

“Respectful but still bold enough to ask,” Belladonna nodded magnanimously. “Good. Very well, I shall give you pointers, Initiate.”

“Guess that leaves the rest of us duking it out,” Mouse Protector said, stretching. “C’mon, Undersiders, show us you can play in the big leagues.”

“… Fuck,” Tattletale muttered. “Dharla and Glory will be fine, but even with the numbers advantage, I still feel like we’re outclassed here.”

“That’s because you have enough sense to recognize experience,” Narwhal drawled. “Mouse Protector might be a menace… but she’s also a menace.”

“Hmm,” Shoto hummed. “Ignoring the history and whatever else is at play here, stealing Medusa’s kills right out from under her is a good way to put egg on Saeder-Krupp’s face. Though there might still be another way to do the same…”

For now, the mystery of Feuerschwinge and the storm fell to the back of Dragon’s mind. Pyrite was in front of her, at least half a true Dragon, while Dragon herself was only playing at the title…

“~Do not be so hasty to assume yourself unworthy, Dragon. You have the spark within you, and not just mine. That is recognized, recognized by your opponent and recognized by… a will that lingers behind, beneath, within, and all throughout…” The Fire-Bringer whispered encouragement in her soul. “And if you still doubt your worth as a Dragon… now is your chance to earn it.”

Nodding to herself, fortifying herself, Dragon set her feet. Across from her, Pyrite did the same.

The storm saw the standoff, and with a wing of fire breaking the calm eye to wave between them, it signaled for the duel between prospective Dragons… to begin.

IIIII

— Ancalagon —

I wasn’t expecting this, the duel for recognition between fledgling Dragons: my daughter and the only soul with the potential to become one in this newly Turning Age.

The storm signaled it to begin. Dragon shot towards Pyrite on thruster wings; Pyrite returned the favor on wings of gilded aura.

They collided with a roar, not a bang. Pyrite’s fist stopped dead against Dragon’s metal scales, and her claws stopped dead on Pyrite’s Draconic aura.

For a moment, they hung like that — pushing, pushing, pushing against each other. It was a contest of strength and will, burgeoning Nature and Authority. It was a clash that neither was willing to back down from. It was a duel and more, a meeting that would decide the first true Dragon of the newly Turning Age.

‘I can’t help but feel there’s more going on here that we can’t easily see…’

‘More than the most hype fight of the Second Dive so far??’

‘Gotta root for the home team. C’mon, Dragon! Show the little fledgling that Earth Bet can stand with the best of them!’

“It is a clash of potential,” I told the stream. “They fight to prove themselves, internally and externally. Both rise to the occasion as true fledgling Dragons, but when the dust clears, it will be impossible not to acknowledge the victor as having taken another step down that path.”

“’Tis a momentous duel,” I nodded, proud of both Dragon and Pyrite and proud to witness them take another step into their own power. “Pyrite has the advantage of my blood in her veins and some experience grasping true Draconic Nature already, but Dragon is not out of the running. She is coming into her fledgling Nature quickly, especially since she first saw a true Dragon to model herself after.

“Pyrite is a Dragon of Inheritence and Invested Gravity; she is bound to ascend to the true heights of her Nature eventually. The only question is whether that ‘eventually’ will be today or another day down the line.

“Dragon, meanwhile, is a special case. She had the spark of a true Dragon within her even before I Turned this Age; that spark simply didn’t have what it needed to thrive. Now, it is nurtured — growing in truth. Dragon is one of Inspiration and Progress, a Fire-Bringer to match her totem.

“This duel is not an ultimate decider of which of them is worthy of Draconic Nature. It is recognition that they both are, and friendly competition to give whichever emerges victorious a wing up.”

Calamitas snorted, “She thinks she has victory secured, but I can see that the whelp has her work cut out for her, still.”

Meanwhile, the rest of their respective parties engaged each other as well. Myrddin began with spells, as best he could muster. It was clear to me that he’d spent the night before the Dive — all the free time he’d had since his awakening — practicing.

He was lacking in theory without a true teacher other than his Scholar totem, but he made up for it with passion and prodigious talent.

A spiritual tome of lore appeared in front of him, its pages flipping with life of their own. It was his medium, his focus. The tome settled on one page, and Myrddin raised his hands. Between them, a classic fireball spun itself into existence.

Belladonna let him cast, treating the duel as a teaching moment instead of something truly hostile. At the last moment, the fireball set to race toward her, she made a beckoning gesture with her hand.

The fireball left Myrddin’s control and almost eagerly went over to Belladonna’s side. Myrddin jumped with shock at the sensation of the usurped spell, and Belladonna enlightened him to his mistakes.

“Few contracts with a spirit are absolute,” She said. “They can often be usurped by another mage, another contractor, if they know what they are doing. You commanded this fire sprite to do your bidding here; I appealed to it with an offer to burn as it sees fit.”

“I see…” Myrddin considered, genuinely engaging with Belladonna’s lesson. “And that offer was more appealing than the command I gave it?”

“It was,” Belladonna nodded. “As you can see. A mage must recognize their spirits for what they are and meet them on common ground. Fire, for example, is difficult to outright command but relatively easy to direct. Do you understand the difference?”

“I believe I do,” Myrddin said. “Thank you for the lesson, Archmage.”

“Good,” Belladonna dismissed the fireball with a thought and release of the spiritual contract. “Now, try again. Another spell, if you would.”

‘Take notes, take notes!’

‘Anyone else want to see a pure magical theory stream from Belladonna now?’

‘She’s a freak, but there’s no denying she’s good at what she does.’

The rest of both parties engaged each other half-heartedly. There was little real hostility to motivate them to all-out violence. They were much more enthralled by the other two fights on the field.

Bitch whistled and sent her transformed dogs on the attack. Mouse Protector just laughed and genuinely began to play keep-away with the pups, treating herself as the ball they could never quite reach.

“Over here, puppies!” She called, teleporting to one of her power-marked beacons.

She teleported again as they raced at her, “Over here, now!”

Again and again, Bitch’s dogs scrambled after her. Soon enough, their tails were wagging, and they were panting with excitement. Bitch very much looked like she wanted to join them.

Seeing that interaction, Tattletale turned to Narwhal, “So… truce, kinda? We don’t really need to fight each other until the main fight is decided, do we?”

Narwhal, having prepped herself by enhancing her crystal armor and hovering dangerously, shrugged and relaxed, “No, I suppose not. It’s probably better this way for now. I don’t want to miss a moment of Dragon’s duel.”

“Oh, thank God…” Grue let tension drain out of his posture.

Glory shrugged, “Pyrite is the one who really wants to win this all. Dharla, Belladonna, and I are just along for her ride, really.”

“Then, depending on the result of the fight, would you be interested in an… arrangement?” Alina asked. “Renraku only cares about ruining Saeder-Krupp’s day. I do believe your lot may be able to help with that…”

‘Can’t blame ‘em. Who would want to miss out on this action?’

‘Dragon vs. Pyrite is definitely the main show.’

‘… My money’s on Dragon. I want to believe.’

As the rest of their parties honestly came to an odd truce, Dragon and Pyrite stayed fully invested in their duel. They finally broke the clash, throwing themselves away from the other.

Mere moments later, another clash began. Pyrite reared her head back, gathering breath in her chest. Dragon saw the motion and matched it, her suit’s maw opening to reveal the barrel of an energy weapon.

With twinned roars, Draconic breath met between them. One side was gilded gold; the other was vibrant green. Gold fire and green plasma exploded from the clash, thrown clear by the energetic meeting of Draconic breath. The storm roared in approval.

Everything but them faded in the center of the crater, right over the imprint Feuerschwinge had left.

Draconic breath competed for dominance. Green plasma flared into the shadow of Dragon’s suit. Golden fire flared as wings and fists and claws that beat upon their foe. As with the physical clash, neither came out cleanly on top.

It was amusing to me that Dragon and Pyrite were instinctively making their duel so formal. A test of physical strength, and a test of a Dragon’s most quintessential weapon. They were setting each other’s stage, and honestly, being polite about it by Draconic standards.

The clash of breath ended in another stalemate. Pyrite began to circle Dragon, glaring with a new respect in her eyes. Dragon didn’t begin to circle the other way, instead taking to a hover on thruster wings.

Pyrite scoffed, “I can fly, too, Dragon!”

“I never thought you couldn’t,” Dragon politely replied.

“Dammit, get angry! Where’s your fire?!”

“I think I just proved it’s the same as yours.”

“… True. Whatever! Prepare yourself! I won’t hold back!”

“Neither will I.”

Pyrite threw herself at the hovering Dragon. Wings of gold spread from her back, and that same gold reached down her arm to gild her fist with claws. She struck with a boom that shook the storm almost silent.

Holding strong against the charge, Dragon hovered a bit closer, ‘stepping’ into Pyrite’s space. She met Pyrite face to face, with an arm raised so Pyrite’s claws couldn’t reach her. With her other arm, she reached to grapple and use her suit’s size against the diminutive Pyrite.

Pyrite squawked as she was grabbed and thrown over Dragon’s shoulder. She recovered quickly, pushing off against thin air to reverse her course. Dragon batted away her second strike, hovering backward to make space.

While Pyrite excelled in close combat, Dragon’s strengths were more suited for range. Panels slid open on the knuckles of her suit, revealing green laser claws that sliced through the air at Pyrite.

My darling daughter, as she was prone to doing, tried to charge straight through the issue. Dragon’s lasers pierced her aura in several places, scorching the skin beneath. And then, Dragon simply kept up the space between them, not letting Pyrite close again.

Her lasers — her claws — picked Pyrite apart, steadily wearing down her aura and striking true against flesh. Pyrite roared in frustration, spitting another torrent of Draconic breath.

The golden flames splashed over Dragon’s armored scales. Green metal began to glow gold, but never enough to melt into slag.

Pyrite called upon her half-mantled mastery of Gravity to give all of her movements more mass and momentum. It took another moment for her to accelerate to her new potential, but once she was moving, she never stopped.

The new speed overwhelmed Dragon at first. She took a blow from golden claws on her suit’s chest. They ripped jagged wounds into the armor there and sent Dragon shooting toward the ground from the force.

Dragon tumbled when she fell, showcasing more agility than a purely technological suit of her size should’ve been able to. But since awakening, Dragon was her suit, technological advancement steadily integrating into her very spirit via the Fire-Bringer. She moved unnaturally as if it was only natural, the peak of innovation at her digitally Draconic fingertips.

‘By all known laws of aviation…’

From her tumble, she sprang backward. Her suit’s maw opened once more, shooting forth a ball of green plasma. It burst on Pyrite’s aura and disrupted the Gravity-assisted speed she was maintaining.

As soon as Pyrite slowed and stumbled in mid-air, Dragon opened up with her laser claws again, burning gilded chunks out of aura and flesh. Pyrite roared in pain and flared her faltering Draconic aura.

Fear and awe struck everyone nearby, the weight of a Dragon’s powerful, predatory Nature. It reached through the stream, even, striking the distant audience in the same way.

But it had no effect on Dragon. She would not yield to Pyrite’s declaration of Draconic Nature. In fact, for the first time — likely ever — Dragon harnessed her own burgeoning Nature and sent a roar right back at Pyrite from her suit’s speakers.

It was a shaky thing, that first roar. Even then, it carried Dragon’s replying declaration of Draconic Nature. They were the same, her and Pyrite, and Dragon was finally recognizing and using that fact.

Pyrite startled, not expecting her roar to be returned. That moment of hesitation was enough for Dragon to attack in a frenzy.

Laser claws ripped through Pyrite’s aura. Launched containment foam burned upon contact with Pyrite, but hindered her movements for valuable moments that Dragon could capitalize on. An exotic, shard-like missile emerged from Dragon’s back, arcing at Pyrite with deadly, shattering intent.

The missile sent Pyrite spiraling out of the sky with shards embedded in her flesh. She lashed out on instinct, expecting Dragon to follow up. Her burst of aura consumed the space around her, but failed to find its mark with Dragon still maintaining her distance, sticking to her most effective range.

Pyrite scrambled to sit up in the aftermath of her aura burst, looking desperately for her foe. When she found Dragon again, Pyrite also found herself staring down the green-glowing barrel of Draconic plasma breath.

Pyrite had just enough time to sag in defeat and disappointment in herself, “Oh, man… GGs, Dragon.”

Dragon’s plasma breath was unleashed without anything from Pyrite to stand against it. The beam washed over Pyrite. She was consumed completely. She burst into a shower of gold, not her own aura but the PvP kind.

‘Wow… I was really expecting Pyrite to win that one.’

‘That’s our Dragon!’

‘Deadly Draconic Cinnamon Roll!’

A moment later, Pyrite appeared beside me in the tower, still sitting on her ass and now pouting rather dramatically, “… Dammit. Dammit all!”

“What was your mistake there, whelp?” Calamitas asked, her tone harsh but intending to teach.

“I don’t know! I’m stronger!” Pyrite snapped.

“In pure strength and in your best fighting style, yes,” I agreed. “But Dragon saw that and pointedly didn’t engage you where you’re strongest.”

Pyrite deflated slightly, her disappointment returning to the fore, “… My mistake was not stopping to think. I got too caught up in the heat of the fight, especially after seeing us stalemate in the first two clashes.”

“Indeed,” I nodded. “You failed to use your wits. We’ll have to continue to work on that. But for now, take the lesson well, Pyrite. And know that I am still proud of you.”

“R-Really…?” Pyrite asked, her tone shaky and hopeful.

“You are young yet. Even if you did not win the duel, you showcased yourself well. Your strength truly is something to be proud of. Making it the only thing you’re proud of is where you falter, and that can be changed as you get more and more chances to use your wits. Truthfully, what you need most at this point in your life is experience. Thankfully, the Dungeon will offer that to you just as much as any other,” I told her.

Pushing herself to her feet, Pyrite came over to lean, rest, and recharge herself against my side, “Thanks, Daddy.”

“Sire?” Jenevelle quietly asked me. “Is that why you created the Dungeon in the first place? For Pyrite’s sake?”

I ruffled Pyrite’s hair, causing her to lean further into me, and shot Jenevelle a twinkling glance, “Who could say?”

Back within the Dungeon and the eye of the storm, the Dive was not yet over. Dragon had emerged victorious from her duel with Pyrite, and that victory calmed the half-hearted fights around them. Pyrite’s competitive spirit was the only real reason they had to fight, after all.

Now, in the aftermath, the slight tension between both parties was unwinding. The Guild party could even conceivably ally with the Hoard and Undersider parties to achieve a shared victory in the Dive. With Belladonna and Myrddin’s lesson masquerading as a duel and Mouse Protector still happily playing with Bitch’s dogs, that did seem to be the way things were going.

A new development would push things farther along that path. The Guild party and combined Hoard party had had a straight shot into the eye of the storm; Lady’s party had taken a much more contested path, and what was left of them were only arriving now.

That arrival didn’t immediately spiral into more action and violence, but there was certainly still tension in the air.

‘Here we go…!’

‘Gotta be the last fight of the Dive, right? This one’s for all the marbles?’

‘After seeing what Dragon did to Pyrite, I don’t think Lady has much of a chance.’

“Guild,” Lady tensely greeted, her troopers at her back.

“Director,” Narwhal returned the greeting, only for Lady to correct her.

“Lady, while I’m in the field.”

“Lady, then. Can we resolve this peacefully, or are you here to win?”

Lady grinned at her leading counterpart, “I’ve come too far to give up now.”

At the same time, a similarly tense meeting was taking place between the parties’ respective megacorporate allies.

“Medusa,” Shoto gave a tense nod.

“Oh, joy,” Medusa drawled. “I should’ve expected that Renraku wouldn’t be able to resist interfering in things that aren’t at all their business. Shoto. Alina. Where is the Dragon’s Daughter?”

“Oooh~…” Alina grinned and taunted. “You’re too late to claim her, I’m afraid. That honor has been taken by our ally here. But… we might be willing to hand over credit to you for a price. I know how valuable such an achievement on your record would be…”

Medusa scoffed, “No, I’ll let you claim the Daughter’s death. We’ll see how you like the heat that will undoubtedly come with it. After all, you don’t have a Great Dragon at your back to weather the consequences.”

Alina scowled, seeing Medusa call her bluff like that, “… Fine. Be difficult like that. We’ll just make sure you don’t make it out of the storm and write the narrative to our liking anyway.”

“Speaking of narratives,” Medusa chortled, unconcerned by the threat. “What is actually going on here? The crash site is… not what I was expecting, and all of these shadowrunning teams in the Zone today seem to have the same objective…”

“You don’t know?” Shoto smirked slightly. “Ancalagon hired all of them. Yes, even yours, Medusa.”

“And I subverted my dear Lady from him,” Medusa waved. “Her original job is of no larger consequence. What of the rest? Where is Feuerschwinge?”

Alina let out a huff of honest air, “That’s frustrating us, too. Someone, it seems, has stolen a march on both of our corps.”

“Unfortunate,” Medusa frowned. “That might actually be the most troublesome thing about my report on this whole mess.”

“Likewise,” Shoto nodded.

A thought came to Medusa, “Where, then, is the storm coming from-?”

“I can answer that.”

Watching the situation develop, I couldn’t help the belly laugh that escaped me. The last party in the Dive had finally arrived at the endgame. The MOX, unmolested and untroubled so far in their relatively uneventful Dive except in matters of Spirit, walked into the eye of the storm.

“Who?” Medusa huffed. “Goodness, how many teams did Ancalagon hire on?! This is getting slightly ridiculous!”

Psykos, leading her party, ignored Medusa to glance at the imprint of Feuerschwinge. She nodded as if confirming something. The MOX’s Dive might’ve been uneventful for the most part, but they were unique in having had the chance to speak directly to a spirit of the Zone. They had the clearest view of the truth lurking in the local astral.

“You ask where is Feuerschwinge, what is the storm?” Psykos addressed the other parties in the eye of the storm rather than the locals. “According to… that Fae… she’s still here. She is the storm.”

All around them, the storm chortled at the recognition at long last. Then, the storm — Feuerschwinge — roared.

“Ah, that would do it,” Belladonna nodded, finally having all the pieces to put together the puzzle. “When she fell here, her spirit was burned into the astral. I imagine it has also become rather toxic, some terrible half-life after death.”

Glory spoke up to add yet another piece to the puzzle, “Uh… She didn’t die here. I don’t completely know how she got there, but I met her in Berlin during the same run I first met Ancalagon. She was being experimented on by some madman who wanted to kill all of the Dragons; Ancalagon and I set her free in the end, but I don’t know what happened to her after that.”

“She’s alive elsewhere…” Tattletale slowly said. “And dead here. How can she be both…? Oh, magic bullshit. Yeah, that tracks. She really is the storm. She’s just also… not.”

“Anyone else’s head hurt hearing that?” Regent asked.

Mouse Protector eagerly shot her hand up in agreement, “Oh! Me, too! Me, too!”

‘Yeah, magical, conceptual, spiritual fuckery sounds about right to end this.’

‘Am I the only one who thinks that DOES kinda make sense? It’s like a weird astral projection, right?’

“The details don’t matter, just that we know them,” Lady shook her head, looking at the issue pragmatically. “And now that we’ve all completed the main objective… the winner will be decided by who leaves alive.”

The tension in the eye of the storm ramped up at her words. Then, it exploded when she continued.

“Maia, Luiz… merc ‘em. We’re winning this thing.”

‘Oh, damn. That’s cold. Cold-fucking-blooded.’

‘She’s a bitch, but I can’t say I hate that.’

‘Lady’s playing to win; simple as that.’

“Wha-?!” The MOX party, completely untested in PvP so far, was eliminated almost instantly.

Maia took a knee and picked them off in quick succession before they could truly react. All four of the MOX adventurers burst into showers of gold with only a sad little cry to herald their passing “[No more D A T A…?]”

“Oh, fuck!” The Undersiders were next, targeted by Luiz and his one-man squad of drones.

His air-support drone rained down a hail of minigun fire. His tank sent armor-piercing rounds into Bitch’s dogs. His walker drone cleaned up the stragglers with well-aimed autocannon fire.

In moments, all four of the Undersiders had burst into showers of gold.

Lady joined in by targeting the Guild party. She pitched a grenade and sniped it out of mid-air between Mouse Protector and Myrddin. Mouse Protector was quick enough to teleport away from the detonation of fragmentation. Myrddin couldn’t raise a magical shield in time. He burst into a shower of gold.

Medusa and the remaining SK cyborgs were almost as quick on the draw as Lady and her troopers, just as ready for violence to break out. They targeted the Hoard party, looking to claim that prize for the exec mistress.

With a song and a circle drawn with her hands, Dharla dropped a small moon on the range-focused cyborgs. They were smashed to metal gore upon impact. Glory surged forward to meet the close-quarters cyborgs, the SK Samurai leading that charge.

Even against similarly chromed foes, Glory was death on two legs and with two black chrome arms. She slid under the SK Samurai’s initial cut and sprang up to tear through one of the cyborgs behind him. She punched the barrel of her pistol into the head of another and pulled the trigger to blow it smooth off.

Then, the Samurai was upon her again, making himself the sword that cut her rampage short. Black chrome met sharpened steel. Quick as a blink they clashed twice. At their level of lethality and skill, two clashes were all that it took for Glory to find her advantage.

As abruptly as it began, their duel paused. Glory’s clawed hand was embedded in the Samurai’s heart. He gave her a single nod of respect between warriors, killers, monsters as he dropped dead.

Alina, having prepared a spell that never saw use, unleashed a wave of earth at Medusa. A shark spirit emerged from the earthen wave. Medusa would’ve escaped, would’ve woven around the spell as only a snake could… if Belladonna didn’t join the attack with a spell of her own, piggybacking on Alina’s temporarily contracted spirit to trap Medusa’s feet in the ground beneath her.

Medusa got off a brief hiss of horror as she realized she was trapped. Alina’s shark swallowed the executive whole.

Narwhal eliminated Maia and Luiz with spiral-horn-shaped crystal shards while they were distracted with their own kills. The two troopers burst into showers of gold.

Laser claws lanced out of Dragon’s suit as she reacted to Lady’s betrayal and the sudden chaos that followed. From one hand, they picked apart the last two SK cyborgs; from the other hand, they burned a fatal hole in Lady’s armor.

Lady didn’t immediately burst into a shower of gold. She stubbornly persisted just long enough for Dragon to approach and confront her.

The frown in her voice was audible through her suit, “Director, that wasn’t very nice.”

Lady flipped up her helmet to shoot Dragon a blood-stained grin, “All’s fair in adventure and war.”

A moment later, she burst into a shower of gold.

In less than a minute, only Dragon, Narwhal, Mouse Protector, Dharla, Belladonna, and Glory remained. Dragon let out a sigh and asked the Hoard party.

“Are you going to betray us now, too?”

Glory shrugged in reply, “Like I said, Pyrite was the one who really cared about winning. I think we’ll bow out and let you have this one, Dragon.”

After a moment of thought, Dragon shook her head, “… No, you all made it this far, too. We’ll combine what’s left of our parties and win this together.”

Seeing that decision, I cut in, my voice booming into the Dungeon and heard by the stream, “I believe congratulations are in order, then. Well done, well played, well adventured, all!

“Technically, the Guild and Hoard parties are our combined victors of the Second Dive… but considering Dragon’s sportsmanship and her personal victory over Pyrite… I think it’s fair to call this a Draconic Victory.”

The stream’s chat exploded into a flurry of similar messages.

‘GG!’

‘GZ!’

‘Total. Cinnamon. Roll. Victory!’

I took the liberty of extracting the victorious combined party after declaring them so, putting an end to the Dungeon’s exceedingly eventful Second Dive.

They burst not into a shower of PvP gold, but into brilliant motes of golden experience, captured in the equally golden light of the sun finally shining through Feuerschwinge’s storm.

IIIII

[AN: I feel like the end might be a bit rushed here, but honestly, this chapter alone is 14k words and the rest of the Dive has also had more than enough time in the spotlight. It’s been fun, but by now, I just really, really want it done.

Next chapter will be the end of arc interlude and Dragon-level dive I promised (likely with some smut I have planned, too), but I envision it being different enough from the Second Dive to give us a sort of breather. After that, we’re going to be stepping back from the Dungeon until the official opening (dealing with the Second Dive’s fallout, the Dragonslayers, Cauldron/worldwide reactions, etc.).

I’m not nearly done with this story yet, but when I am, the Dead End will be next up on my muse’s agenda. Look forward to that ;]