"With the latest attack by our formal rulers, I wish to cast a blessing. Six Altaerrie, five from America and one from the United Kingdom, had fallen. Among them were three of our brave Militia, who bravely defended the southern wall from our attackers.

  The Aristocracy continued to press against our walls. The Unity crusaders marched against our city, the last beacon of Mother's touch left in Nevali. Time and time again, they attacked, and we survived. With overwhelming might, they rained their shells against our beautiful city, and our warriors defeated them each time.

  As we know, it has come at significant cost. As Princess Assiaya lays flowers on the six caskets as a gesture of thank you for their bravery, let the deity Willrin guide Logia so their souls can lay to rest. We thank the Altaerrie for coming to our aid, with their might and courage, defending the last hope of our world against this new darkness that the Unity unleashed across Alagore. " - Tempass Finnea, Temple of Brevia

  April 12th, 2068 (Military Calendar)

  Salva Underground, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie

  Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

  *****

  Captain Mathew Ryder eyed an Astralis soldier guarding the Salva generator room’s stairway entrance. Moss coated the stone walls, vines hanging from the ceiling, pre-cut for passage.

  "Worst stairway ever," Wallace grumbled.

  "I don’t know," Gonzales replied. "I found it comfy."

  "Because you’re half my size, Shrimp," Wallace shot back.

  "Maybe you should take the hint," Gonzales quipped, earning a few chuckles. He noticed Natilite, the Templar, clutching her arms. "What about you, Wings? You seem rattled."

  "I am a Valkyrie. We prefer open skies," she said.

  "This must feel like torture," Wallace said.

  Natilite’s uneasy glance at Wallace betrayed her discomfort. Ryder remembered their first meeting—her in an underground cell, stripped, chained, joints broken to block her healing powers. Despite her strength in Comanche, these tunnels clearly unearthed old wounds. "Enough tunnel talk," he snapped, shooting Wallace a warning look.

  The team took the hint and moved toward the generator room doors. As Natilite approached, Ryder gently grabbed her arm. "If you’re not combat-ready, you can stay back. No one will judge."

  "No," Natilite said firmly. "You’ll need a swordswoman against those monsters."

  "After last time," Ford added, "I’m glad to have a melee specialist."

  "How many was it?" Barrios asked. "A hundred dropped from the ceiling?"

  "We all know what happened," Barrett said, refocusing the team. "Game faces on. Close quarters—final weapon check."

  "Exactly," Natilite agreed.

  The Salva generator room’s vast chamber awed Comanche. Stone pillars lined the walls and studded the space, a rapid river slicing through, its chill fogging the soldiers’ Atlas-variant visors but not piercing their suits. Engineers—military, civilian, and militiamen—worked amid recent goblin attack reports, some standing guard. A squad of twelve Astralis soldiers, armed with P52 submachine guns and tagged A/3B/1AIBCT, 1st AID, secured the hydro-generator room. Trained for combat in Luna’s lava tubes and Martian craters, they protected the dwarven engineers.

  The engineering team—a mix of US and Japanese Army personnel, Salva locals, and NASA experts—worked on the ancient hydro-generator, dormant for over a century, per Ryder’s briefing.

  Ford whistled. "Impressive."

  "Your people don’t harness electricity from water?" Fraeya asked. "Allsari had a generator at our waterfall."

  "We do," Ford replied. "Just not underground."

  "Fascinating," Fraeya said.

  Scattered around were wounded soldiers and engineers—US troops, Salva civilians, and a Vagahm dwarf—receiving medical care. Comanche wore Itlian-Atlas battlesuits, designed for space but adapted for extreme environments. Though not ideal for subterranean warfare, they countered goblin poison, acid magic, and poor ventilation. The tight battlespace favored P52s for all except Wallace, who wielded an M338 machine gun with a robotic third arm; Barrios, carrying a scutum shield; and Natilite, equipped with an energy shield and sword.

  Ryder watched Sergeant First Class Gregory Barrett inspect P52s—compact top fed weapons built for close combat. As other Minutemen teams—Viking, Razorfist, and Vanguard—descended the stairway, Ryder approached the makeshift command post. His HUD identified First Lieutenant Norris, flanked by two NCOs studying paper maps.

  Dozens of wounded, including two Vagahm dwarves, were being treated by medics, assisted by two non-magical Temple Maidens.

  "Nat," Ryder said, "why are Temple Maidens here? It’s dangerous."

  "Remember male and female roles?" Natilite replied. "Temple women support armies—singing, chanting, boosting morale, or, like now, healing."

  Ryder admired the bravery behind her logic. These women risked their lives to bolster the troops. Natilite’s fingers brushed her sword hilt, grounding herself against the cavern’s oppressive depth, her eyes resolute.

  "Lieutenant, sitrep," Ryder said to Norris.

  "Sir, we’ve been collecting wounded for an hour," Norris replied.

  Ryder noticed Gonzales and Fraeya tending to the injured while King and Natilite joined him. "What happened?"

  "Not entirely sure, sir," Norris said. "Radio’s spotty underground. From what I gather, Vagahm engineers broke into a goblin-occupied cavern during one of their digs. We lost contact with the excavators soon after."

  Gunfire echoed through the tunnels. Across the river, two Astralis soldiers dragged goblin corpses into a pile. "Were you attacked?" Ryder asked.

  "Twice," Norris said. "Orders are to hold here and, if necessary, collapse the tunnel."

  Ryder understood Colonel Hackett’s logic. If goblins seized the generator room, they’d access the city’s underbelly, unleashing chaos. Unlike the disciplined Aristocracy, goblins slaughtered indiscriminately.

  "Vanguard will reinforce your defense," Ryder said. "We’ll funnel survivors to you."

  Turning to his XO and Templar, he asked, "Thoughts?"

  "Tight quarters," King said. "We need to watch our fire."

  "Agreed," Ryder said. "Wings?"

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  "A lone goblin’s no threat," Natilite said. "Their strength is numbers—swarming."

  "Then we’ve got the edge," King said. "They’ll be funneled."

  "Don’t get cocky," Natilite warned. "Each Horde adapts to its enemy. Their weapons vary."

  "Understood," Ryder said. "Barrios, scutum up front. Wallace, take point. Natilite, stay close behind. Everyone else, fall in."

  "What about Fraeya?" King asked. "Her magic could help."

  Ryder paused, unsure of alien tech or tunnel integrity. "Fraeya, can you use geomancy here?"

  "Yes," she replied, "but it could collapse the tunnels. Hydromancy’s better for countering acid magic, if I keep spells light."

  "Stick to that," Ryder ordered.

  The three Minutemen teams briefed quickly. Vanguard guarded the rear while Comanche, Viking, and Razorfist swept forward to reclaim tunnels, rescue survivors, or, if needed, collapse them. Viking had a new Nagal swordsman, and Razorfist a Wood Elf marksman—recruits inspired by Comanche’s success with natives, which Ryder had endorsed to Colonel Hackett.

  "Comanche," King said, "watch your fire, stay tight. Helmets sealed. Wings, Fraeya, report any gear issues."

  Natilite and Fraeya nodded, securing their helmets and oxygen tanks. Extra padding kept them warm.

  The teams navigated the old Salva tunnels, reaching a checkpoint guarded by American soldiers clearing goblin corpses and supercars. Bullet casings littered the floor, hinting at the firefight’s intensity.

  The tunnel’s ancient frames and pillars impressed Comanche. Broken crystal torches lined the walls, replaced by Army Engineer stick lights.

  "Reminds you of Mexico, huh?" King said.

  Ryder grimaced, recalling cartel tunnels in Mexico and Arizona—claustrophobic, booby-trapped deathtraps where collapse loomed. In Chihuahua, they’d freed caged migrants from an underground warehouse, branded like cattle. That horror drove him to become an officer.

  Fraeya had described goblins as pure evil, not unlike cartels. Ryder found this grimly ironic—the same problems, different world.

  "Why’d you bring that up?" Ryder said.

  He froze as .45 gunfire rang out—Barrios and Ford. "What’s happening?"

  "Standby," Barrios replied. After more shots, he added, "Two goblins down. Path secure."

  Comanche pressed on, passing the tiny, green corpses. Dark blood oozed from bullet holes; one had human skin caught in its teeth—a detail Ryder ignored.

  The tunnel widened, allowing near shoulder-to-shoulder movement. The goblin bodies showed blisters, black blood seeping out. Natilite’s breath hitched briefly at the tunnel’s narrowing ahead, but she gripped her sword tighter, wings pressed close to avoid the walls. Ahead, a raging battle echoed.

  "In tight spaces," Fraeya warned, "poison fog concentrates."

  "Check your seals," King ordered. "No leaks."

  "Watch your zones," Barrett added. "No friendly fire."

  Comanche entered a massive cavern filled with towering construction equipment and dirt piles. A metal platform spanned a crevasse splitting the chamber.

  Dozens of American soldiers, militias, and Vagahm engineers fought hundreds of goblins, joined by corrupted wood elves, nekos, and luperca—savages pouring through a wall breach.

  Astralis forces split into three groups: one near Comanche, defending the wounded; another guarding the damaged generator and railing bridge; and a third across the crevasse.

  Barrios led with his scutum, absorbing a crossbow bolt and an exploding pebble releasing purple gas. The Atlas suits held against the poison. Ford and Forest fired at ceiling-bound hostiles, while Natilite joined the front, slicing goblins near the wounded. Wallace charged to the river, laying suppressive fire with Gonzales aiding the injured.

  "Cover me!" Wallace roared, his M338 thinning the horde at the breach.

  Goblins dropped from the ceiling, overwhelming soldiers in a frenzied swarm. Survivors hunkered behind corpse barricades. Ryder’s HUD blared a poison alert as Yong’s IFF pinged from Charlie Company. A hulking luperca loomed before him, blood drooling, boils popping across its crude armor.

  As he aimed, Natilite beheaded it, then turned to face goblins behind her. Ryder gunned down three with his P52, earning a thumbs-up from her—a gesture she’d adopted.

  Arrows tipped with gas or explosives rained down. Natilite charged with her shield, cutting through hostiles, letting Ryder reach Captain Yong.

  "You’re a sight for sore eyes," Yong said.

  "How bad?" Ryder asked.

  "We arrived to a few goblins," Yong explained. "Vagahm dwarves breached a cavern full of them. They swarmed before we could react."

  Ryder saw a neko Maiden and a soldier attacked on the other end of this cavern. The soldier fell, ammo spent, as goblins tore at the Maiden. King and Barrios picked off the horde, saving them.

  Shamans spread poison and haze, one melting a soldier’s suit with acid. Fraeya’s ice spike killed the shaman, her water spell washing away the acid. Another shaman attacked Fraeya, but she countered with hydromancy.

  The Itlian-Atlas suits saved Comanche from the toxic air. King carried the wounded Maiden and soldier to safety.

  "We’ll burn through ammo soon," King warned.

  "We need to seal that breach," Ryder said. "Nat, Eger, Ford, Fraeya—with me. Rommel, cover us."

  Ryder’s team advanced, but King held back. The horde darkened the cavern by destroying lights, but night vision revealed the goblins’ aggression unabated—they saw in the dark.

  "How?" Ford asked.

  "Like night vision," Fraeya said. "They’re adaptive."

  "Eger, point. Wings, cover his six," Ryder ordered.

  Wallace led, firing bursts across the bridge. Natilite guarded his rear, her shield and sword felling foes. Barrios added his scutum’s protection. Ryder and Ford targeted ceiling and railing climbers, Fraeya trailing.

  Goblins charged with spears and electroprobes. Wallace’s M338 cut through them, Comanche picking off stragglers. Luperca and goblins flanked from below, but Natilite hovered over the crevasse, eliminating them.

  "Fraeya, frag and seal the breach," Ryder said.

  "It’ll take time," she replied.

  Ryder’s team focused fire on the breach. Natilite cleared a path for Fraeya, Ford, and Forest, her sword flashing through goblins despite the tunnel’s smothering weight. She stifled a shudder, her wings steady, carving space for the grenades that shredded hostiles. Fraeya’s staff accelerated her magic, closing the breach as goblins reemerged.

  Wallace unleashed his M338, buying time. A crossbow bolt exploded on his shoulder, spreading acid. Barrios sealed the armor breach, and Gonzales neutralized the acid, injecting antivirals.

  "Status?" Gonzales asked.

  "Light burns," Wallace said. "Smells bad."

  "We’ll flush your suit," Gonzales said. Barrios fetched a spare tank and purified the contaminated air.

  "Operational?" King asked.

  "We acted fast," Gonzales said. "He should head back."

  "Hell no," Wallace growled. "Just need a minute."

  "Take a few," Ryder said. "Barrett, Forest—ammo check. See if Astralis can spare any. We move in five."

  The last goblins fled or died. The cavern was reclaimed, though at heavy cost. Ryder checked on Natilite and Fraeya, inspecting their gear.

  "You okay? Dizzy?" he asked.

  "The mask’s uncomfortable, but it works," Fraeya said.

  "My immunity’s strong, and the mask helps," Natilite added.

  "Get checked by Marcos," Ryder said.

  Comanche resupplied. Radio chatter confirmed Viking cleared a tunnel, Razorfist recaptured a cavern, and Vanguard saw no action—suggesting this breach was the horde’s focus.

  Ryder approached Yong. "How far to the main evac group?"

  "Quarter klick down the main path," Yong said. "We tried holding, but the horde overwhelmed us."

  "You did good. We’ll investigate."

  Comanche entered the main tunnel, encountering goblin groups and a massive hobgoblin. Slow but durable, it fell, its corpse clogging the path.

  Ammunition dwindled as battles raged ahead. Comanche found the drilling team in a small chamber, dwarves fighting behind barricades with melee weapons, supported by a few American soldiers.

  Comanche flanked the horde, Fraeya icing the ground to slow them. Natilite chased stragglers, with Forest and Barrios mopping up. The chamber secured, Ryder approached a dwarf.

  "Lord Ryder," Thrain said, "I’ve never been happier to see humans."

  "Lord, huh?" Ryder chuckled. "No longer a false one?"

  Thrain laughed, yanking his axe from a luperca. "Not today, my Lord."

  "Where’s Commander Gratom?" Ryder asked.

  "Supervising drilling," Thrain said. "Haven’t seen him since the attack."

  "Gather your people; we’ll escort you back."

  "We’re too close to breaching the next tunnel," Thrain said.

  Ryder understood. A breakthrough could flank the enemy, shifting the siege. Seeing Natilite’s exhaustion, he addressed the team’s confusion.

  "Change of plans," Ryder said. "Thrain says they’re near a breach to flank the enemy."

  Comanche pressed through the toxic tunnels, finding ambushed corpses. Ford admired the dwarves’ craftsmanship, prompting Barrett to recall cartel tunnels in Arizona—underground railroads for trafficking.

  "Always about slavery with you," Forest teased Higgins.

  "Opposing evil’s never wrong," Higgins said.

  "Didn’t Lincoln bend the Constitution?" Gonzales asked.

  "Does that mean we appease aliens with slavery?" Higgins pressed.

  "I can hear you," Fraeya said.

  "Sorry," Higgins said.

  "Enough," Ryder snapped. "Charlie, I get it. It’s not simple."

  Higgins’ words gnawed at Ryder. He agreed in principle—slavery was indefensible. Had he not met Assiaya at Kallem’s Palace, or if she’d hidden her identity, he might’ve sided fully with the Airman. But he had to bridge cultural gaps for his daughter’s sake, despite potential backlash.

  A scream halted them. Natilite thrashed, a goblin on her back stabbing at her wings. Fraeya froze its axe. Clanking signaled a new horde. King and Barrett formed a defense as Ford and Gonzales restrained Natilite. Ryder shot the goblin dead.

  "She’s okay," Gonzales said. "Just exhausted." Natilite shook her head sharply, as if casting off the tunnel’s grip, and stood tall, sword ready. "I fight on," she said quietly.

  "Comanche, advance," Ryder ordered.

  Ammo dwindled as Viking emerged from a side tunnel, confirming the network was cleared.

  "Thought you were done," Murphy said.

  "Not today," Ryder replied. "Fraeya says we’ve breached."

  "Take the honor," Murphy said.

  Comanche navigated the slick, shadowed breach, flashlights cutting the dark. A glow ahead sparked hope, and excitement surged. Fraeya sank to her knees in relief, Natilite’s wings flared wide, shaking off the tunnel’s grip, and the team roared in triumph. Sunlight bathed the Yuplenia Mountains’ forested ridges. Below, an enemy camp lay exposed, its lone airship fleeing without escort.

  "Arrogant fools," Barrios spat.

  "No guard," Ford muttered.

  Ryder’s grin sharpened. "Darnad, I’m no noble, but I’m Comanche."

  "Meaning?" Gratom pressed.

  "Watch and learn…"