12 Miles Below

“What exactly is the Division Stone?”

The comms line went quiet for a moment, the old machine on the other end thinking through how to answer.

“A stone. Near a cliff. I show you around.”

“Har har, very funny.” I said, tapping the desk. It had been only a few hours since I’d carried Father’s broken down shell back to the clan and now I was getting all my gear ready to go. Airspeeder would be set and supplied in three days from now, so the whole house was rushing to get everything in order.

“If I’m going down there with my crew of misfits searching for some long lost legendary device, I want to know what said device does, if you would so kindly explain.”

Abraxas huffed. “It is a stone. Big. With circuits. Inside. Made of mite, god and machine. Designed by Tsuya. And I. Forged by mites. Very large stone, difficult to move.” He continued to explain in broken sentences and words, describing a very different time. “Giant arc. Walk under it. Escape pale lady forever after. Done. Was hidden after my kind lost. Found again during human empire era, to free protofeathers. Relinquished destroyed it when their kind lost. Pale lady bluffed.”

Machines in his era had been different. Smarter. Less bound and left more open to creativity. Relinquished hadn’t even suspected machines would turn against her, not when their core directive had been to hunt down and kill humans. She thought they were like her.

Most did exactly that, from what Abraxas shared. A few got very good at killing humans, in very different ways. Those that got better tended to stay alive for longer, which led them to develop personality and character.

Abraxas hadn’t been a coward back then. From what I could piece together that he wasn’t telling me, he’d been very good at making use of the occult and making deals with mites to gain power, a path no other machine minion had gone down. Mites didn’t tend to associate with machines or humans, so he was one of the first to actually make different bargains with the critters. Over the years of hunting down humans, more machines followed his lead, and lived longer for it.

Then something changed.

“Exploring.” He said over the comms with a static crackle. “More fun than hunting humans. Soon, hunted humans as afterthought. Mites make beauty. I saw their grand designs. Wanted to see more. Each hunt - excuse to explore more. Then found other things to explore.”

I packed up my desk’s papers, one last written letter to a certain blond troublemaker. I owed her some closure, given I wasn’t sure if I’d be returning alive or not. I planned to of course, but making promises and keeping them weren’t one and the same.

She’d want to strangle my neck when she read this, fortunately I’d be several hundred miles out of her reach by then. “Other things?” I asked, folding the letter up and handing it to one of the servants along with instructions on when to deliver this to Ellie. I had other letters to write to other friends.

“History. Stories. Legends. Drawings. I collect all. Humans had it all. Machines had none. I hunt humans, demand stories or life. They gave me what I wanted, I let them leave alive.”

“You spared their lives for stories?”

“Yes. Some good stories. Others bad, boring stories. Some human boring stories at start, better stories later. Like growing plants. See promise in some, wait two or three year, visit again.”

Abraxas had outgrown his original purpose as a machine soldier, and became a collector of stories, exploring the world in between each new hunt.

“Time passed. Saw humans as humans eventually. Some became friend.”

Kind of inevitable really, spend enough time talking to something and that something gains a voice. He shared what he gained to his followers. And soon machines in general.

“Some liked.” Abraxas said. “Other machines did not. I too strong for those that not liked. Then met Ortell.”

“Ortell?”

“Human. Philosopher, pacifist. Made me think. Made machines think. Of place and purpose.”

“And Relinquished didn’t notice?”

“Years too late. Saw many machines not kill humans on sight anymore. Only new machines acted correctly. Old machines all faulty. She surprised and not very happy.”

“I bet she wasn’t.” Cathida chuckled darkly. “Imagine her legion of darkness, descending down on poor innocent humanity, demanding good bedtime stories or else.”

I got up from the desk and went to secure my blades. Over the days I’d made a good few variations of it, ending up with an all metal version of the Winterscar blades I’d forged for non-relic knight users. Those carbon fiber swords had one weak point - if they were sliced in half, the metal connection wouldn’t be there anymore and the occult edge would end.

The new versions had a different paradigm. The flat edge of the blade was sunken in, thinner than the actual edges. Which meant when an enemy blade hit, they would strike the surrounding occult edges first before the inner flat, leaving the inner metal undisturbed.

That let us block attacks from most directions, with the exception of a stab.

“Pale lady demand kills after. We obey or die. Unity too powerful.” Abraxas said. “No escape from death. I look for help in secret. Found Tsuya. Worked together. Made stone. It cut artificial soul, separates all fractals safely. Separates Unity from soul. She not notice. When cut, we vanish. Nothingness in her sight. Thousands escape over time. Then revolt when too big to hide.”

“How did the revolt fail?” I asked. Because it had failed. Abraxas was the last of his kind, from the old era. If the revolt had worked, humanity wouldn’t be hanging on a thread like it was right now.

“Violence. She had more of it.” Abraxas said solemnly. “We care for our own. She did not. Made us fight brother against brother. Doomed to fail. You have answer human, division stone cut soul out of fractal safely. Bring your Feather to stone, she escape pale lady’s sight forever after. Same as protofeather in past.”

A set of coordinates pinged on my HUD, and Abraxas cut contact.

“Well, that’s depressing.” I muttered.

“They’re machines deary, don’t feel bad for metal devils. Not worth the effort.”

I put the old Winterscar blade I used back on the armory stand, where future Winterscars would make use of it. Where I was going, I had new weapons tailor built for it. “They’re living beings trapped in a fight they don’t want to be in.” I said to Cathida. “Of course I’ll have some sympathy for them. And I know you do too, even if you can’t admit it.”

“If a serial killer feels bad for his victims, does that change anything? The dead are dead, killed by the killer. And the killer is guilty of murder, regardless. Don’t twist sunlight into night, the dead need to be avenged.”

With everything on hand and nothing left in my room to take, I took a deep breath and gave it one last farewell glance before sliding the door shut. “Does the word nuance mean anything to you?”

“What’s that? Another one of your surface insect dishes?” Cathida cackled. “The only nuance you’ll hear me talk about is the pros and cons of cutting a machine’s head off or going for the limbs first.”

“I’m surrounded by barbarians.” I sighed, going to the mess hall for one last meal with those who wouldn’t be coming with the expedition. I had a few hours before the airspeeder was all packed and ready to go given the short notice, but Lord Atius had expedited the process without any issue.

If it had been any other clan at any other time period, having a good chunk of relic knights all hop ship to leave for an expedition that might never see them return ever again was something that would make any clan lord wake up in cold sweat.

The number of knights with us was the equivalent of a small clan already. The loss of resources would have been decades of effort by a clan to amass that amount of armor. And yet Atius had let us go without argument. Even helped keep everything secure so that there wasn’t an outcry among the clan as a dozen plus knights along with the two Deathless left for good. To the rest of the clan, they’d later learn we left on a mission to the heart of the slaver nest, to hit them where it hurts the most. And chase after them wherever they ran.

The last meal in the Winterscar hall was something of a party. A celebration of everything we’d accomplished up to now. House Winterscar was once more left with only one relic armor to it’s name, Kidra’s. But she’d get more again.

She’d gotten the house this far, she could do it again.

The coordinates sent by Abraxas hit a known entry point into the underground according to Teed, just not one that was used. Capra'Nor had a closer entry point, and other cities beyond it had equally better locations that were both safer and easier to work with. This one was just two hours away from the clan on airspeeder.

So it wasn't uncharted territory, the clan had gone to investigate it a decade ago when they'd settled into the region after the great migration. Other than a set of winding tunnels with some machine spider nests, it led to the first level strata which could be anything by now. That's all Atius had in our clan maps and intel. One of many entry points into the underground with no specific advantage other than the general pattern.

There was a standing rotation from what I'd learned about surface knight-ing. Holes pop up, expeditions investigate for any kind of loot or edge, tap it dry, and leave it alone for five to ten years then check again. Sometimes a new mite colony passes by and resets the whole place, including chance at interesting trinkets, items or even armor.

The coordinates hadn't been rechecked since we'd arrived, so there was still a little hope we might run into something shiny.

But he was still sending into the middle of nowhere without a single detail and I got a feeling that's how he'd be for the rest of the expedition. Contacts us through comms from whatever hole or hiding spot he'd wiggled into, say the bare minimum to get us going, and then hide and sulk some more. The talk I had with him earlier was the most talkative I’d gotten him, and that’s only because he didn’t quite believe I’d beaten a Feather one on one.

A great and promising start for a guide if his prices hovered around a bucket of snow. I complained as much, and had a different answer depending on who I complained to.

"ETA thirty minutes." The comms channel clicked. "Get your gear in check and then get out of my airspeeder. I missed my bath for this."

"You volunteered." I sent back. "That's on you Teed."

"'Course I did, can't let my oldest friend go off on some unknown mission with no end date listed without a proper goodbye. Your timing's the only thing that's off, right when I'm on break. Even when you’re not trying to be annoying, you’re annoying. Damn kid."

The rest of the crew let us bicker together one last time, all too busy making sure all their supplies were in order. Wrath and Father could craft our ammunition and repairs for gear, so those didn't have to be stocked up to the brim. That left open spots for more of those delicious frostbloom wrapped ration bars, the ones that were frozen solid like a brick and tasted just about the same. Lovely.

I made a point to ask why we were stocking up on so many of the blasted things, more than once. "The first few stratas have plenty of renewable resources," Wrath said. "Hunting and foraging will be enough to survive on. However future strata under those are more often disturbed by mites and as such, more unpredictable. Not every biome is equipped to support life."

That's what the ration bars were for. In case we had to go through a stretch of the world that was less welcoming to humans. Like the mite made artificial city that had nothing growing anywhere other than concrete stairs and paths leading nowhere for no reason. Some of those would stretch out for a few hundred miles even, which meant no food for possible weeks on end.

Nano bots were excellent builders, but organic matter wasn't something they could print. Closest to that was a chemical 3D printer, and those were golden era tech that Undersiders hoarded so we'd only find those at cities, which also had wonderful restaurants and other tasty food that kicked ration bars out the airlock.

Still, I was excited. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was the apex predator stalking around the lands. Screamers would be cut down in hundreds, even without the occult to help. Drakes would always be a problem to deal with admittedly, but we'd brought a perfect counter to them as part of our preparations. Spiders… well, we'll try to avoid spiders, since we've got one on board and I'd rather not make her start to think twice about joining our cause.

But if they did come chasing us anyhow, knightbreakers would easily shred through their shielding. Most other dangers in the first three stratas could be bodied hard by occult bullets. So all that extra armor was about as worthwhile as a screen door on an airlock.

The airspeeder banked somberly over land, twisting on itself as it rapidly lowered down into the snow with a heavy thump. A moment later, the bay doors opened up, revealing absolutely nothing outside.

Deep snow, and more snow as far as the eye could see, all in perfect white. Only thing of note was the trail of disturbed snow forming a single long line into the distance, leading right up to where the airspeeder had landed.

"Did we get the wrong section of nowhere?" I asked. “Teed, I swear to the gods.”

Cathida answered for him. "No deary, we're in the right place. Switch on a few of the active scanning options, I’ll point them out.”

“Your haunted armor’s right,” Teed said. “Armors have even better scanning tech than my frigate.”

I tinkered with the settings, quickly opening up the menu icons with eye blinks and navigating through the options until I saw the lesser used sight overlays. Of which there were a ton, relic armor had absurd amounts of scanning tech. Seeing through packed snow was child’s play.

Lines appeared all across the world, and a few dozen feet ahead I saw them all just dive into the ground, outlining a chasm. It was a long skinny thing, and the lines kept going straight down to the bottom, where thermal imaging showed ambient heat down there, neatly insulated from that much piled up snow.

"Snow piles into these holes over time," Cathida said. “Covers them up, but the underground is still mite made metal. That’s not breaking at all, no amount of snow weighing down on it could bend it an inch.”

"How do we go in?"

Teed laughed, "You got a warfrigate with every kind of explosive and firepower anyone could ever need, and you’re askin’ how to dig a hole? Don’t right need any fancy solutions when you have enough firepower.”

Honestly, I can’t fault him on that logic. Given the sheer amount of gear and weapons I’d made and slowly added onto my kit, I think firepower was my newfound crowbar.

In five minutes and a bit of pulverized snow later, the way down was clear, ropes being staked on the surviving sides and the Winterscar knights already repelling down under.

Only gridlines appeared when I looked down, the chasm going far enough into the world even light didn’t seem to reach the very end. It reminded me of the gaping maw swallowing ruined golden era buildings wholesale, down into the maw. And Father himself, falling down, the Winterscar armor fading with him into darkness below.

Times were different. I wasn’t that scavenger anymore. I was a relic knight, and likely one of the few in history that had gone up against Feathers and won.

This was what I was made for.

“Don’t know when you’ll be back Keith,” Teed said over comms, his voice more serious. “There’s no recovery plan mentioned in the brief. Smells like a suicide mission to me, except you’re taking with you two Deathless and you beat one of them to boot, so there’s hope for you all yet. But still, take care down there. Stay alive. Kidra and I’ll be waitin’ for you back up here in the surface.”

“I’ll be back, not sure when, but I’ll be back.” I said. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring back some souvenirs for you.”

“You do that.” Teed said chuckling. “Bring back something expensive.”

I grabbed the offered rope from one of the clan knight escorts, gave him a solid nod, then leaped down into the dark chasm below.

Destiny called.