Both men turned their heads slowly at his question. Their eyes were bleary and unfocussed, as if having only just woken up from a century long nap and their minds were still deciding whether perceiving reality was truly worth the bother. Alter did his best to give them an encouraging smile but his facial muscles didn’t have the desire to follow orders. He instead offered them a slightly twisted grimace, which in all fairness did manage to extract small smiles from the pair. Boozehound’s jaw worked silently before his voice cracked into life.

  “How to word this.” He began with uncertainty. “I walked into that place feeling like a … a prince? Or at least, something like that. But now.” His words trailed off as his eyes slid away to gaze mournfully at an empty corner of the room.

  “I feel like a tool. Disposable.” His words were spat out of his mouth with enough force and vitriol to rival that of a bullet’s impact.

  Alter winced at his words. While he would admit that the rate at which the man’s burgeoning faith had come to control his behaviour had concerned him. That didn’t mean he wanted him to come crashing back down in such spectacular fashion. Perhaps feeling the same way that he did, Riptide was quick to attempt to smother the flames.

  “Hey now. It’s clear to see that Kalaton’s use of the English language is odd at best. It's like it’s his second language and, just like us, he sometimes picks the wrong word. Given the fact that he’s a deity that exists between worlds and realities, I think we can cut him a little slack. We’re still special, we just need to readjust and reframe the picture a little.”

  There was a hopeful pause as Boozehound seemed to absorb his words, for a moment he was completely still before slowly nodding to himself. With a quiet but steady exhale, he once again raised his eyes to meet those of the others.

  “You’re right. I started thinking too highly of myself, I’m sorry.” He apologised.

  “There’s no need for that.” Alter interrupted him. “You’re a proud man, Marcus. Proud of who you are. Proud of what you do. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, it's just that sometimes it comes and bites you in the ass.”

  That got a sheepish grin out of the man. “Alright, alright, enough about me.” He chuckled.

  With a smile of his own and an appreciative nod over to Riptide, Alter commenced the discussion.

  “Let’s home in on what happened at the end to begin with. Completion equals replacement. There’s plenty of wild pathways we could run down with that statement, but let's stick to the simplest interpretation. We complete the objectives thrown at us, we eventually reach some sort of ‘job done’ state, we get sent home. I’m perfectly aware that there are some of us that don’t particularly like the idea of returning. But I’d argue there are more that do want to go back, and if the possibility exists then we need to gun for it as best we can.” He paused in order to both breathe and gauge the reactions of the others.

  “I think I’ve made it quite clear what my opinion on that matter is.” Riptide answered quietly. “But I’m not going to let my own selfishness hold everyone back. We’re obliged to do all we can, even if some of us don’t want to.”

  “Not to sound fatalistic but there’s plenty of other ways the word ‘replacement’ can be translated here, and certainly not all of them involve a return trip.” Boozehound cautioned.

  “A fair point, but for the sake of morale we should keep the focus away from some of the darker meanings of the word. Best case scenario, we tick all the boxes and Kalaton offers us a choice, stay or go. At which point each man makes their own decision. We’ve just got to get there first.”

  “You reacted pretty strongly to the idea that replacement could mean that another group of people could get dragged over here in our steads. Yet now you seem pretty certain that that is what you want to do.” Boozehound remarked to him with a raised eyebrow.

  Alter shrugged. “Like you said, it could mean plenty of things, just because the possibility exists doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.”

  “Fair enough. Is that what we’re going to tell the boys, then? That if we keep doing what Kalaton tells us then we all get to go home?”

  “We tell them that we believe that to be the case, but we stress the fact that we don’t know for certain. I think we need to be truthful here.” Alter spread his hands wide.

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  The other two mulled his words for a moment before both indicating their agreement.

  “Good, I was worried we wouldn’t be on the same page for this. As for what else we’ve been told, I don’t think there’s a huge amount to say beyond the fact that we were selected by sheer dumb chance. Do either of you have anything to add?” Alter finished, placing his hands back on the table.

  “I think that should be fine.” Riptide thought aloud. “Plus, we can always answer any questions people have as they come, there’s no need to overcomplicate things yet.”

  “It’s going to be a little awkward, but that’s just par for the course, mmm?” Boozehound agreed.

  “It’s settled then. Well, with all the rattling and banging coming from downstairs, I’d say that dinner is about to be served. We’ll deliver the news once everyone has a full stomach. Although I admit, I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  With murmured agreement the trio left the briefing room and made their way down the stairs to the dining hall where the majority of the squad had already gathered. Soon enough all but one were present, with Vangroover still being kept in his room for now. Tabitha was in her element, dashing in and out of the kitchen with plates laden with all manner of foods. By her own words, she had been suffering from extreme boredom while they had been gone, and that despite their absence, Morgan had still managed to ‘work her to a whisper’, whatever that meant. Despite his initial doubts about being able to eat, Alter found that once he’d struggled through the first few mouthfuls of beef stew, his appetite returned in full force. A trait shared by all as every morsel produced was devoured in an instant. Then, as the last of the plates were whisked away and each man sat nursing their newly filled mugs, Alter and the command team ushered everyone out of the room and back up to the perceived privacy of the briefing room.

  There they began to speak of both the revelations they had been given, and the conclusions they could draw from it. To their credit, all who listened did so without interruptions, although their expressions varied wildly as the conversation continued. When the call for any questions was given, there was a startling lack of takers. Alter instead looked out on a sea of expressions pensive and deep in thought. After a small period of awkward silence, Riptide made the suggestion that the group disband for the evening, with any further discussions to be had once everyone had had a chance to sleep on it. Walross was the first through the door. Alter could only catch a glimpse of the man’s expression, while he saw confusion there was also a nugget of hope on display. Pavejack followed almost immediately after, before Boats and Whim left at a more leisurely pace. The command team exchanged relieved glances that could’ve gone much worse, and they bought themselves some time to better settle their own heads. One by one they too vacated the room, each seeking their own spaces for the remainder of the day.

  Alter almost made it back to his room, however the idea of leaving their last squad member in the dark left a sour taste in his mouth. He found himself standing in front of the closed door to Vangroover’s room. No sound came from within, the doctor having left some time ago and the man himself seemed happy enough to comply with the order of bedrest. With slow motions, Alter brought his hand up and, praying that he wasn’t waking the man up, knocked on the door. A second of silence was broken by gentle rustling from within.

  “Yeah?” Vangroover called softly. “Come in.”

  That was not the response time of someone who had just woken up, Alter let out a relieved sigh before gently opening the door and slipping inside. Closing it again behind him, Alter looked around. The room was mostly similar to his own, only somewhat smaller in all dimensions. The windows looked down into the training yard, a much smaller fireplace was still able to bathe the room in a warm amber glow. The table and chairs had been taken over by Boozehound’s medical bag and various other healing supplies provided by the estate. Vangroover himself was propped up in bed with more pillows than Alter was comfortable observing. Vangroover’s eyes were half closed, but he could tell he was being watched intently, and with expectation.

  “How’s it going?” Alter asked, wanting to sound concerned but casual.

  Vangroover chucked quietly. “I’m well enough, I got back here, didn’t I?”

  Alter smiled thinly, the man’s voice had definitely changed after remaining silent while travelling. There was a scratchy, gravely tone to it now, one that reminded him of the static you heard when listening to an old record player. He didn’t sound pained, but it was clear to see from how subtly he spoke that he was nervous to try anything louder.

  “Very true.” Alter agreed as he found the one chair not buried under equipment and sat down heavily. “Have you been able to eat anything?”

  “Tabitha brought some soup up earlier, and I managed to get most of it down. It was a lot easier to stomach than the slop you were throwing at me on the road.” Vangroover gave a cheeky grin.

  “Hey, we were trying our best, okay? God, some people just don’t realise how good they’ve got it.” Alter responded dramatically with mock indignation.

  “Well, I couldn’t exactly protest, could I?” Vangroover started to laugh, but quickly choked it down and placed a protective hand around his bandage-covered neck. “There goes my career as a stand-up comedian.” He complained.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a better line of work. Or at least something more stable.” Alter offered.

  “Perhaps.” Vangroover looked him dead in the eye. “You typically keep to yourself in the evenings, which leads me to believe this isn’t just a check-in. Has something happened?”

  A little surprised by his sudden businesslike manner, Alter took a moment to collect himself before nodding. “Yeah. Some stuff happened today, let me fill you in.”