THE VOICE BELONGED to no one other than Whiskey. Just as the door opened and they fell back in disarray, Whiskey entered their part of the corridor.

  "Yeah... can you say the same?" Zan said, smiling at Whiskey while gulping down chunks of air, letting her know of their hard work.

  "Oh, yeah. Lots to talk about. Long day, I've had. Sorry for being gone for so long," she spoke. "Well! I thought I would come in to lend you guys a hand." Pointing to the door, she said, "Shall we?"

  "We're both beat. We can explore the room--" he said, but needing to stop to take in another gigantic breath before slowly exhaling. "That room we're just going to poke around in..."

  "Alright, sounds good, I will wait for you to take lead," she said, already bored with their huffing and puffing, or so it had to seem to him, looking at Whiskey with a sense of wonder for how she could do all she did and take it all in stride while they baffooned over themselves like drunk clowns.

  Coming upon the doorway once he and Jiehong were ready, he did not need any System notification to see the entryway was infested with Poison Needle fae. "Shet-above-a-met, there has to be at least four Poison Needle fae-constructs, here. What the heck!"

  This was when MAC droned off in their ears, "Rangers! Extreme caution is advised. Four Poison Needle fae-constructs to a single door is highly unusual and denote the possible presence of a fae-network. Tread with extreme caution going forward."

  Not letting his team becoming rattled, he said, "Great! So, we still don't have any water-magic to handle them, so we will need fire... again. Whiskey. Jie and I are all out. Can you help?"

  "Sure," she said, taking from her pack a torch and quickly snapping it to flame with a magically formed spark from her hand. "I just hold the flame against the side-- shoot! Almost knicked me! Wait, little bloody-wunker did, look, I'm bleeding!"

  "You're thinking with your old mind. It's used to seeing only one Poison Needle to a door. When you were running your torch over one fae, you forgot about the others, and they took their opportunity," Jiehong said, summing up the situation. "MAC? What risk is there just from a scratch?"

  "The risk factor involved with a small, skin-deep scratch would depend on many factors. Such as the maturity of the Poison Needle, how deep the scratch is, and whether its poisons have been augmented by external substances. Observing the Poison Needle fae through your headset, Zan, I can see these fae look similar to the fae-constructs you have previously encountered. I do not believe you have much to worry about. Moving forward, however, I would look into the purchase of poison antidotes. Moving deeper into the complex, it is highly advised to keep a number of elementary medicative substances on hand," MAC explained.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  While MAC talked, Whiskey was already back at targeting the Poison Needles. The torch carefully stood waiting by the side of each Needle nest, waiting for the moment to strike, and douse the Needle in flame once it took the bait and launched its gross splinter toward her finger, waiting patiently just outside its hole. Movement! It struck and this time she was ready for it! The needle came, her finger moved, and the flame smashed the needle, melting the tip with alarming grace. Plop, moments later, its withered body gooped to the floor destroyed.

  Whiskey repeated the process for the final three Needles. It took longer than anyone would have liked, but what could any of them do? Help her with their own torches? He didn't like that idea. Same energy as having too many cooks around the firepit. Clashing limbs and personalities in a high-stress situation, no thanks!

  "Done! Done! And, yeah, done. Fecking finally, done," Whiskey commented as each Needle fae fell to the ground, broken.

  Goop... all gray and slimy. With a weird smell not unlike that of a heavily rusted anchor. Gross, he thought as he upturned his nose.

  "Let's get into the room proper and see if we can't find that damaged core or lever or button or whatever it is that--"

  Speaking as one through his headset, Screen Master MAC blared at he and his team, [WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! Fae-Construct Network Detected. Extreme Caution Advised!"]

  "Network? What is this, MAC? I thought you said 'networks' or mutual defense systems, whatever it is you called it earlier, were extremely rare. Why is it we are getting a notification for a network, now?" he asked, exasperated at the turn of events.

  "Answer: although fae-construct networks are rare and something I considered unlikely to be within the bunker space, I was wrong. Why I was wrong was merely the result of data. I based my remarks upon the scant data I still held. I apologize for giving an inaccurate assessment of the situation. Unfortunately, unexpected encounters like these are simply part of your job. Do not become so reliant on my observations and knowledge as a Screen Master you forsake your own critical faculties." MAC said.

  He really could have done without MAC's snide criticism. He, Zan, reliant on him? In what universe?! He and his team had done everything which led to this moment. Without them, MAC, here, would still be inactivated and deep in the forest, stuck in that other bunker, the hub which they should really revisit sometime, he realized. Seriously, why was it like this? You ask for clarification and then they blame you for asking a question, making it seem like you don't know what you're doing or you're being dense or something! He remembered it was like this back in their town, too...

  "Understood, Screen Master, over-and-out," he settled on saying instead of a rejoinder.

  Looking to his team, he asked, "Shall we leave and catch these things another time?"

  "I think that would be best," Jie said. "Zan and I are not in fighting shape. And you're hardly any better, I bet, Whiskey. You've been doing things in town and must not be up to face down a horde of fae-creatures."

  Whiskey shrugged. "I could fight if you guys need me, too," she said.

  For a second, he considered letting Whiskey join the fight. Then he remembered just how tired he was and thought against it: "No. We leave. There is still plenty of time left in the day. Let's pullback, rest, recover, then return in the evening."

  He made his decision and began the walk back to the entry-exit. Whiskey had a confused look on her face, but he dismissed it thinking it was simply her way of expressing disagreement. Walking outside, he reflected on a different reason why Whiskey looked confused: it was nighttime.

  His mouth hung open like a lousy lobster trap. "Wait... what?!"