A Sinner's Eden

***Tirnanog, Mount Aerie***

***Etan***

“How is he doing?” I asked Conla while I eyed the hunters who were holding the line against the 'vermintide', as Magnus had called it. It was a disturbingly apt description to come up with for someone who had encountered the ratkin for the first time.

The sensor's ears twitched. “Disturbingly. I've never before seen ratkin hesitate to attack someone, aside from yourself, honoured elder.” She pursed her lips while she monitored my son in law through her superior senses. “Thooough… why is he laughing while he is fighting for his life? Is he mentally unstable?”

“You don't have to worry,” I assured her. “Thalia Tate screened him and gave him a pass. My son in law will be a boon to the clan.”

He better be… I wouldn’t want to have a second argument over him with my wife.

“If you say so, honoured elder,” Conla acquiesced. “We certainly need some positive news to make the rounds. My folk were a little distraught when this season's economic statistics were published. Last year, we lost about three hundred people, but we had only around one hundred births, while the number of fertile pairings dropped beneath three hundred. A few more bad decades like this one and the clan is done. We've been in a downwards spiral and people are beginning to notice.”

She interrupted to order the tanks who were holding the line to switch out with the rested reserve. “Switch positions if you get tired! Fight properly or I will mark you down in the mission report. Just because we have an elder looking over our shoulders today doesn't mean you can slack off in the second row!”

I didn't comment on Conla's outburst, figuring she would know best when to dress down her people. Having me at their backs was an assurance against being overrun by the ratkin, but not against a claw unfortunately finding a gap in someone's armour.

Life was cheap in Tirnanog and it reflected on how the people dealt with high death rates.

Losing people was unavoidable when the fauna constantly invaded our territory. Incursions like this one occurred daily and normally the various stratas dealt with most of them on their own.

My people were only called upon when there was a great risk of losing an unreasonable amount of civilians.

Conla returned to our original discussion, “His skillset is well rounded. The ratkin seem not much of a challenge. Once it gets known that Astra landed such a powerful match, people will start talking.”

“Hm.” I hummed in consent.

There was no point in publicly validating Conla's concerns, so I didn't call her out on her obvious attempt at drawing information out of me.

It was better if a subordinate felt comfortable with pointing out problems. Too many leaders had fallen into the trap of listening to yes-sayers who were too afraid to speak up. “Please tell me when the situation turns dangerous.”

“Playing babysitter?” Conla asked.

I sighed. “Yes. My wife would gut me if something happened to him. And I suppose Astra would never speak to me again.”

Conla looked slightly concerned. “The sensors from team seven reported that there is a larger variant with the swarm they are facing, which is why I had them retreat and sent Tulkas. Should we call them back to minimize risk?”

“I am babysitting him, but I am not going to guide his hand while he fights beasts which should be his match,” I clarified. “If there are two variants, you can warn me. He can deal with a single variant in close combat while a team assists from the rear.”

“Is it true that Astra is pregnant?” Conla switched topics yet again, apparently testing how far she could go with her questions.

I looked at her. “We are very informal with our highly accomplished hunters, but some things will only become public knowledge once the elders announce it.”

“Of course, honoured elder!” Conla was quick to turn the discussion back around. “Tulkas pulled the tank who was being overwhelmed out of the fire. Are you sure I shouldn't order them back? Having them retreat will cost us time, but it will be much safer to fight the ratkin with our combined force in the main tunnel.”

“There's no need,” I denied the suggestion. “The more witnesses to his capability, the better. As you said, the people need some positive news and he needs to establish himself as someone who can be relied upon as a leader.”

She clicked her tongue a few times, giving team seven the command to re-establish their formation and to support Tulkas from the rear. The sensors with team seven would have no problem translating the instructions.

The hunter code was a secret language taught only to sensors. It had been developed during the time of the clan wars and was frequently changed ever since.

In a world in which a properly reared sensor could pick up on called commands from hundreds of metres away, a language which the enemy couldn't understand was a necessity.

***Tirnanog, Mount Aerie***

***Magnus***

The ratkin shrieked as I stomped down on its head, silencing it forever. Then I flowed to the side and back, slicing open another one of the creatures. The ratkin weren't much of a challenge once I had gotten used to fighting them. They looked fearsome, but they were much too slow compared to me.

Once my mind managed to see past the claws and teeth, I also realized they came in different sizes, but so far only the human-sized versions warranted caution. They were the ones who would jump the opponent while all the little ones, the kids, would rip into the victim.

Fighting them had quickly turned into a rhythm.

One step forward, slice 'em up!

And retreat before the others could jump me!

Let them stumble over the corpses of their brethren.

And rinse repeat.

If things got dicey, I didn't hesitate to throw a lightning bolt to startle them.

Meanwhile, team seven had picked up their downed tank and was advancing behind me while finishing off the injured Ratkin on the floor. Occasionally, I let one or two of the creatures slip past me to give them something to do.

I saw it coming before it happened, but I was already too used to the grisly work to react in time.

A huge bastard of a rat came bounding down the tunnel. It was knocking over – and in some cases stepping on – its kin just to get to me. Muscles rippled all over its body, making it seem like the thing had eaten three bodybuilders for breakfast.

I readied the halberd, but the monster bounced sideways and pushed off the wall, making it impossible to swing the halberd at it with full power. The sudden change from mindless zerg-tactics to an opponent who acknowledged the existence of my weapon took me by surprise.

All I could do was to bring the halberd forward and awkwardly stab at the monster while it barrelled into me.

The halberd's pointed head bit into the ratkin's shoulder and was torn out upwards, mangling the beast. But it cared neither for the wound, nor the electric shock coursing through its body.

It grunted while a clawed hand closed over my face. Then it tried to pluck off my head like a ripe berry. Thankfully, the weave made this not as easy as the creature imagined it to be. Several thick cords of filament were connecting every part of my armour. A single filament was strong, but it could be torn. Several of them could hold the strongest of opponents.

My enemy realized this and tried to bash me into the ground while it pushed the halberd to the side.

I didn't let it.

Snarling, I closed my legs around its torso and fumbled for its face with one hand while I freed the short sword from my belt. We struggled for a moment before the ratkin used its spiked tail to batter my side, which the armour blocked barely. I still expected to greet some new bruises once I took off my carapace.

It was bizarre, but I could see everything through the flesh of the ratkin's hand thanks to my Second Sight. The beast was lit up like some network of oriental chi-pathways which coalesced in several cores all over its body.

This was no new development. I had noticed how some of the larger creatures looked different from the average animal I had hunted so far. But it was the first time I was getting close to something living that had cores.

Then the beast tried to bite me, but I trusted my armour and rammed my entire arm down its throat – an outcome it hadn't expected as it began choking on my fist. From then on, all its attention was on trying to dislodge me.

Its distraction finally allowed me to free the short sword from its sheath and I rammed the weapon in between the ratkin's ribs without hesitation. The blade had just enough reach to stab the largest mass of light inside the beast's chest.

The light, the core, winked out like it had never been and the ratkin froze as its eyes widened in a manner which was too close to a human's for comfort.

I chuckled and shoved my arm even deeper down its throat while I dug through the soft flesh inside it. My goal was one of the smaller cores which lay close to where a human would have his collarbone.

My fingers caressed a hard bulge while the monster shuddered and choked.

All of my attention was on the minute energy signals which coursed through the creature's body.

A feeling of anticipation slowly rose within me. My communication training with Astra might earn some unexpected results. Results which could be applied to other fields.

It was something I had been curious about ever since learning about the cores!

“Hold it!” After fighting his way through the smaller ratkin, one of team seven's tanks reached us and stabbed his broadsword into the mutant's eye, all the way to the brain.

All of a sudden, the monster relaxed and the energy coursing through its body went erratic.

I realized there was nothing more to gain from this experiment and cursed.

My fingers closed around the core and I ripped it out of the ratkin's throat. It was a small one, its function a total mystery to me. As I watched, the mechanical organ stopped moving despite me trying to replicate the electric signal which had instructed it to do its thing – whatever ‘it’ was.

The tank who had 'saved' me looked startled when he saw what I had been digging for.

“Why do ratkin have cores?” I asked. “Aren't they former humans?”

“How should I know?” the tank retorted. “Do they look like humans to you?”

Well, he had a point. Something had gone seriously wrong with the ratkin, making them more like the natural inhabitants – animals – of this world. I would have to ask Gaia about this at the next opportunity.

I dropped the core and allowed the tank to help me up while the other hunters dealt with the last ratkin. It looked like the monsters had depleted their numbers right when the largest decided to try its luck.

Seeing it was over, I re-sheathed my sword and picked up the halberd by using my foot to flip the weapon up into my hand.

We won – for the moment.

Just a few metres further ahead lay the entrance to the food depot which was in utter chaos.

I led the way inside and had to gag as foul air hit my nostrils like a brick.

One last ratkin, much smaller and only reaching my hips, charged me and I backhanded it.

The creature's head evaporated in a shower of blood and bone.

A sensor entered the large hall behind me and gagged before she retreated. “Those filthy creatures! They shat everywhere!”

She wasn't wrong. Whatever had been stored here was no longer edible. The ratkin had broken all the crates without actually eating the green and white roots which were stored inside. I recognized them as the same radish-like plants which were always used to top up the standard stew.

The Aerie had advanced their culture in several ways different from earth, but their culinary skills had shrivelled to a dried-out husk thanks to using only a very limited amount of ingredients in food preparation.

The smell was nauseating and I didn't even suffer the fate of enhanced olfactories.

Just how much must this stench impact someone who enjoyed the benefits of enhanced smell?

I scanned the hall with my Second Sight, but couldn't see any signs of life. “I see nothing with nightstalker vision.”

The second sensor braved the room while covering her nose and mouth. She looked around and tapped her spear onto the ground three times before she fled and reported from the outside. “No heartbeats. Airflow and echo suggest this is a dead end. No breach!”

“Conla says we should close the door and lock it, then return,” the sensor who had tried her luck first informed us.

I left the depot – also no longer able to stand it. Together with one of the tanks, we closed the heavy access door which sealed off the depot. A wheel and some gears levered a steel shaft into place which locked the door for good.

One of the tanks approached me and handed me the throwing spear which I had fired down the hallway earlier. “Thanks! I thought I was a goner when they piled on top of me. Can't say I looked forward to these monsters slowly nibbling through my armour.”

“No problem.” I returned the spear to my back. “It was fun, letting loose for once.”

“Fun!?” The tank opened the visor of his helmet and regarded me with an aghast expression. “You had your entire arm down that beast's throat to pluck out one of its cores. Are you trying to invent a new live-harvesting technique?”

I pursed my lips beneath my helmet before I realized he couldn't see my bemused expression. “Something like it.”

“Conla says she wants you back with the main party,” one of the sensors said. “Just go ahead. We will go slower and check the bodies, just to be sure they are all down for good.”

I looked around before I nodded. “If you think it's necessary? They all look dead to my nightstalker vision.”

I excused myself and jogged off.

Since I didn't know their protocols, I forewent a cheesy salute. So far, I hadn't seen any military protocol aside from Conla bowing to Etan when she introduced herself. Maybe it just wasn't their thing.

Team seven followed me at a slower pace, but they weren't overly diligent in checking all the corpses after I had pointed out that anything still living would be like a light-bulb to my vision.

Shortly afterwards, I reached the main tunnel where the other teams had mopped up the ratkin horde. To my great relief I couldn't make out any dead hunters, but a few tanks had retreated to the back and were nursing injuries.

Seeing Etan and Conla waiting for me, I joined up with them. “All done?”

I eyed the tunnel which was covered knee-high in ratkin corpses. They had done a lot of work while I was on my support mission.

“Not yet.” Conla motioned for her people. “Advance slowly. We have to find the breach.”

We proceeded down the tunnel until it widened into a wide hall with glowmoss on the ceiling and fertile soil on the ground. It was a field like any other – just underground.

Before the ratkin had vandalized it, it must have been meticulously pruned and taken care of. There was farming equipment lying all over the place, dropped where the farmers had abandoned their work.

My eyes fell on the other side of the hall, where the wall had collapsed and a group of ratkin were eyeing us. They were guarding a jagged rift, a dark hole which didn’t look like it belonged there.

Three variant ratkin were towering over the rest of their brethren. The biggest one had a humongous club and was sneering at us with drool running down its snout.

“Advance!” Conla ordered. “Scouts, fire at will.”

The tanks didn't charge their foe as I had seen in so many medieval movies but slowly walked towards the ratkin while keeping the formation. The scouts prepared their compound bows and pump-action crossbows but didn't fire yet. The ceiling was much too low to rely on ranged arching fire.

“Can I take a shot?” I asked and retrieved a throwing spear from my back – a new one. Sullivan had handed out the special poisoned variety today and I figured a used spear wouldn't have the same effectiveness.

Sullivan had advocated for poison on all of my equipment ever since he found out I had a high resistance to the most common toxins.

Conla looked at me as if judging the worth of allowing me to play around before she returned her attention to her subordinates. “Hunters, kneel!”

At once, all the people in front of us knelt, not even questioning the order.

I took a leaping step forward before I threw. My hand blurred as I put all the force I could muster into the throw.

The largest ratkin moved its club to block, but my projectile hammered through the organic material and the ratkin's torso before it buried itself in the wall behind the creature.

I clicked my tongue, figuring a single small wound would at most hinder a beast that large.

The monster regarded its destroyed club which had split down the middle before it stepped forward, pushing aside its kin. Right when I thought it would charge, it teetered and fell over like a felled tree.

“Holy heck,” I mumbled. “What did Sullivan put on those spears?”

Conla looked between me and the felled ratkin. “Why didn't you mention that you are a walking, human-sized ballista! Keep going!”

I readied another spear and took a shot at one of the remaining large ratkin, but my target wasn't so accommodating this time. The creature dodged and hissed, but I got some of the smaller ones. There was no way I could miss a group that was so tightly packed.

Etan cleared his throat. “Now, this is something to work on, Tulkas. You need speed and precision when it comes to ranged fights. Those throwing spears of yours might be nice to take out large, dumb targets, but they are a little too hefty when it comes to these middle-sized opponents.”

He hummed. “Maybe I should give a demonstration to remind everyone what an elder is capable of?”

Conla bowed her head. “It would be too kind of you to do some of our work for us.”

Etan nodded and pointed a finger as if aiming a gun. All filaments on his body went taut.

“Careful now.”

Two simultaneous twangs heralded a gust of explosive air. It was like someone had fired a high calibre sniping rifle with overcharged ammunition right next to my face.

At the same moment, two lines of destruction were carved through the grouped up ratkin.

One of the variants took Etan’s attack right to the chest and exploded, its arms flying left and right while the head hopped upwards.

The other was hit slightly off centre to the left of the hip. The explosion caused by the transferred kinetic energy tore off its leg and left the creature spinning to the side with a mewling howl. It had survived, but I had no illusions about it bleeding out sooner rather than later.

Etan frowned and looked at his finger before he mumbled, “That was supposed to hit the chest. Did Sullivan sneak me one of the copper flechettes again? He knows they don’t weigh enough…”

It took a moment before he looked at me, and I realized I was staring at him like some idiot.

“What are you waiting for! I still see eight more spears on your back!”

After four more spears, the remaining ratkin, now bar their leaders, had enough and retreated into their hole without further conflict.

“I thought they would charge us,” I commented.

“They have some sense of self-preservation remaining in them,” Conla explained. “There were less than forty left and we have ninety people here. With the ratkin, it's all about numbers. They have more than you? They charge. They have fewer? They retreat and multiply until they can test you again. I suppose the only reason they stayed for so long was because of the fields with all the food. They hoped to intimidate us and keep their conquered territory.”

She had the hunters advance and soon we stood at the jagged opening in the wall. It led into a tunnel which descended into the mountain at a steep angle.

While the sensors checked out the tunnel my attention was drawn to the huge ratkin.

It was still alive, if only barely.

I grinned, seeing another chance to further my studies.

While Etan and Conla were discussing how to proceed, I walked towards the seemingly lifeless body of the ratkin ogre. I drew my sword and stabbed it into the creature's spine, severing it, just to be on the safe side.

It didn't even twitch, but through my Second Sight, I noticed its heartbeat increasing.

With this, I was probably on a timer. I had to use my entire body to shoulder the ugly thing onto its back.

Then I hacked into its chest. Getting through the ribcage was gruesome work, especially with the chosen tool, but I was afraid that using the halberd would do too much damage.

Once the wound was sufficient, I went to my knees and dug in. This time, I aimed directly for the large core at the creature's centre.

When my fingers touched the beating, biomechanic organ I could feel the signals coursing through the monster's body. Earlier, I didn't have enough time to explore them, but now I could search for a pattern as I tasked as many sub-identities as possible to pay full attention.

It took me maybe a minute of rummaging through the ratkin's torso until it felt safe to proceed. Thankfully, the monster's resilience was enough to prevent it from biting the dust like my first test subject.

Once my sub-identities reintegrated it was like having an epiphany. There was no other way than to try, so I ripped the core out.

This time, I used several filaments in addition to my hand and snaked them into the core, touching where I had felt the monster's nervous system connect. It helped that this time it was one of the strange bio-mechanic pumps and I knew exactly what it was supposed to do.

The core stuttered, but once my filaments took over, the steady pumping motion returned.

I watched it for a good thirty seconds before I was sure it wouldn't just suddenly stop beating. Feeling a rush of excitement, I held the core aloft and did what I had promised myself to do if this insane experiment should work out.

“Look! It's moving! It's moving! It's alive! Mwahaha!”