B2 - Chapter 3: Under the Black Wall (Patreon)

The portal snapped shut behind him with a whoosh of air. He found himself in the familiar tunnels of the Black Wall. The interior structure of the wall was uniform in makeup, though its tunnels made a dizzying array of arteries that shifted and turned daily. Drones and nanobots modulated the placement of the tunnels on a 24-hour cycle, making it impossible to know exactly where he was in relation to their base. Fortunately, the map they had procured earlier that morning gave his team a snapshot that they could lean on to find the rendezvous point and meet up with them. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.

Voices echoed down the tunnel minutes later, frantic, a tinge of terror underlying their tones.

“Did he make it out?” That was Klein, Terraform’s agent. “Did he message you? Anyone? Did he send a message?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Alan said.

“You think or you know?”

“I’m not sure. His message was confusing.”

“Oh God,” Klein said, panic rising in his voice. “Oh God, if he’s been captured or worse—”

Terry turned the corner, coming into view. He held his hands up in a welcoming gesture. 

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,” he shouted with dramatic flair.

Most of the group startled at his sudden appearance, though Tania merely glowered, narrowing her eyes.

“You asshole,” she said.

He chuckled lightly, walking towards them. 

“How’d you get out?” Alan asked. “Seemed like Tinker had you dead to rights.”

Terry waged an internal battle. How much to tell them, he wondered. It had been close—far closer than he cared to admit. But did it do them any good to shake their confidence? He decided to hedge his bets.

“Tinker had a spatial-locking Artifact in his suit, but I was able to use the arrival of my father and his company to distract Tinker long enough to get some distance. Then that SPC representative, Paragon, showed up. They were all arguing about Tinker’s presence on the field, and that’s when I made a move.”

Tania crossed her arms. “That was far too close, Terry.”

Alan nodded in agreement, casting a dark look towards Klein. 

“If this fool had just followed the damn coordinates—”

“You try perfectly zeroing in on coordinates without any sort of map or technology,” Klein fired back.

“Enough,” Terry said, cutting across their bickering. “This isn’t the place for this. We did it. We slipped Tinker’s net. We’ve got Klein. Let’s get back to base and get ready to travel to the Market.”

The group reluctantly agreed, following Terry as he took the lead.

“Alan, you got that map?”

“Yeah, here it is, Terry.” He handed over the map, and Terry led the way.

Under any other circumstances, Terry could have simply portaled back to their makeshift base, deep in the wall’s foundation. But with Tinker on the hunt, he didn’t dare. An S-Ranker of Tinker’s caliber, with his understanding of Traveler magic, could theoretically trace their portal usage. It wouldn’t be long before Terry and his team found themselves raided by Council soldiers. To be as cautious as possible, they had to walk back the old-fashioned way. This decision wasn’t without its own dangers; after all, the wall served as the battlefront between East and West Topeka.

After glancing at the map, Terry surmised they were maybe thirty minutes away from the base—a couple of miles at a careful pace. They kept their chatter to a minimum, especially after Tania told Klein, not so politely, to shut his trap after another bout of complaints. In the ensuing silence, they heard the sounds echoing up the tunnel before the other group heard them.

Terry immediately reached for his portal magic. Though it wasn’t restricted within the wall, he had discovered that the ever-shifting patterns of the tunnels and the weird resonance of its material made travel a bit more difficult than out in the open. He considered ordering them back the way they came, but before he could, a voice echoed towards them.

“Hello there?” It was a question, not exactly unfriendly, and the moment to flee had passed. 

A group of five men and women turned the corner a moment later. Terry sent a quick series of messages to Klein, Alan, Peter, and Tania before speaking out loud. “Hey there.”

The leader of the group stopped about fifty feet away at the other end of the tunnel. “East or West?” he asked.

Terry tried for a disarming smile. “Neutral party,” he replied. “Just passing through, hoping for some loot.”

The other man hesitated, glancing back towards his party before replying, “Same here. Any luck today?”

Terry shrugged with a chagrined look. “Nah, slow day today. You?”

“Eh, so-so,” the man replied. He took a step forward, his hands held casually at his side—a bit too casually. His eyes flicked, going slightly unfocused for the briefest moment. If Terry had been any less on guard, he might not have noticed it at all. 

A System message, Terry realized. The man was possibly calling for backup, or worse, informing Tinker of their location. He had known the moment they’d come into view that they weren’t a delving party and certainly weren’t neutral. Though they hid it well, underneath the facade, they carried the trappings of Council-equipped soldiers and were moving in a group of five—standard numbers for a Council raiding party. Of course, Terry’s group also numbered five, but that was intentional, to make them look like East Topekans. He got the impression this man and his group hadn’t realized what their numbers said about them.

Terry sent another system message to Klein.

[Terry]: When I give you the signal, close off the tunnel in front of us.

[Klein]: It’s a composite material. I’m not even sure if I can.

[Terry]: Just do it, on my go.

He sent a message to Alan, who had their tech jammer. It was a cereal box toy compared to Tinker, but it had a good shot of shutting down standard radios and minor Artifacts.

[Terry]: Ready?

[Alan]: Ready.

Terry let his senses range forward, slowly, relying upon his Mask Signature talent to hide his intentions. There had been a moment or two of silence, both teams beginning to fidget nervously. Terry broke that silence, even as his aura ranged over the other group. “How about this?” he asked. “We’ll cede the tunnel, head back the way we came. You guys have the right of way.”

The leader narrowed his eyes in confusion. Terry was already backing up, but the man burst out, “We don’t mind just passing by. Just keep your auras inert, and we’ll do the same. Ships in the night.”

Terry gave him a charming smile, even as they backed up another step. “We don’t mind detouring. Just give us a few minutes’ head start.” The team backed up some more.

The man abandoned subterfuge, his hand flicking to his belt.

Terry knew what it was right away. And he was faster. “Klein, Alan, now!” he shouted. 

“Non-lethal ordinance for the Chameleon!” the leader shouted as his finger reached for the Artifact on his hip. “Tinker wants him alive!”

Before the man could activate the spatial-locking Artifact—even before Alan could trigger his own tech jammer—the edges of the wall tunnel liquefied, forming a barrier in front of them, blocking off their line of sight. As much as Klein complained, he was good at his craft.

His portal burst into existence a split second before the man’s Artifact activated, throwing  aweb over his senses, trying to smother the portal that he had punched through space. If he had tried to reach deep into the wall, cutting through the miles that led back to their base, the Artifact might have succeeded in cutting off their escape. But he had created a short portal, only a couple of hundred feet away. Tania didn’t need any prompting. She was the first through the portal, and the others took her lead. Terry followed up the group, and as he burst through, he could hear the frantic shouting and commands from the East Topekan team just down the hall. Judging by the way those sounds echoed, they were running toward where Terry and them had been a moment before—which just so happened to be the opposite direction of where they were now.

“They bought it,” he said quietly to the others. “Klein, how long will that wall hold?”

“I can hold it indefinitely,” Klein replied, “if we stay nearby. Otherwise, it will start dissipating. The wall is fighting me, even now.”

“Okay, let it go. We’ve got the map, and they don’t know which way we went. Let’s get a move on, quietly.”

The portal Terry had created hadn’t led away from the group but had actually passed through to the other side, behind the corner the East Topekans had first rounded. The wall that Klein had created would make the East Topekan team think they were fleeing back the way they had originally come.

They were home free now.

***

They passed through half a dozen more portals to throw off any potential trail. The last mile they walked on foot, deeper into the wall, practically into the subsoil that marked where the wall ended and the actual earth began. A quarter mile out from their base of operations, Terry spotted the first sensor and deactivated it with the code of the day. They passed a dozen more sensors on their way; he deactivated and then reactivated each in turn.

The final deterrent was a wall designed to look like any other within the interior of the black wall. To anyone unaware, it would appear as if they had reached a dead end. Normally, Terry would have portaled them through the ten feet of solid stone and metal, but with Klein at their side, it only took a simple flex of his aura and a few minutes to smooth the surface back over, recreating the illusion.

When they emerged on the other side of the portal, a long hallway stretched before them, with rooms branching off to the left and the right—their makeshift bedrooms. At the end of the hallway, the space opened into a great room, sunken into the earth. They had had to destroy an automaton to claim their makeshift lair. At first, it had seemed strange to Terry and the others. The Black Wall was riddled with dangers at every corner: mini-dungeons, boss fights, control points, and more. The SPC had gone all out, utilizing a team of Artificers and Elementalists to gamify control of the interior of the wall.

Their lair location was perfect, deep down in the earth, away from most of the fighting, and too far from both West and East Topeka to serve any strategic value. They were like moles, burrowed to the very edges of the warzone. They only came up for air to gather supplies or, in some cases, make contact with third party agents like Klein.

As they walked down the hallway, flashes of light illuminated the great room in the distance, evidence of Sol and Tristan working hard to get the man into the D ranks. They had linked up with Sol early in their tenure in Topeka. Terry had been a bit surprised to receive a System message from the man, and at first, he had wondered if he could trust Sol. But after a couple of days of messaging back and forth, Terry realized that the man who could turn light into a fire that eclipsed a nuclear blast, had mostly lost the fire inside his chest. The candle that was his spirit had seemed to gutter out. Though Sol was passionate about taking back his city, in the six weeks they had been working together, he had never once left their makeshift lair.

In private, Tania had urged Terry to utilize the S-ranker, to level the playing field, so to speak. But to Terry’s eyes, Sol seemed not quite a broken man, but one teetering on the edge of oblivion. If he pushed too hard, Terry feared the man might fall into the abyss forever. So he was happy that the former leader of Topeka had an outlet, a way to make himself feel useful. As he tutored Tristan, stepping into Flore’s shoes, and provided them with strategic advice on dealing with the council, it seemed he had found a purpose once more.

As the group filtered into the great room, he noticed Sol and Tristan sitting around a table, a small candle lit in front of them. Sol was in the middle of a lecture but paused when he saw their arrival.

“Ah, our intrepid heroes,” he said cheerfully. “And this must be Terraform’s man. Klein, was it?”

Klein stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. “Are y-you Sol? As in Sol, le-leader of the Knights of Sol?” he stammered.

Sol’s face dropped, his eye twitching briefly before a forced smile found its way onto his face. “The very same, my boy, the very same. Though the Knights of Sol are dead.”

Terry put a hand on Klein’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze—a subtle hint to steer the conversation elsewhere. “We ran into a snag,” Terry said, trying to change the subject. “Tinker himself took to the field.”

Sol’s eyes went wide. Tristan gasped. “Tinker came himself?” Sol asked, incredulous.

“There’s no way,” Tristan added. “He’d bring the whole SPC down on his head.”

“Oh, there’s a way,” Tania replied glibly. “The fucker showed up in his power armor and everything.”

“He what?” Sol exclaimed. “How did you escape?”

“Terry’s father showed up with about a hundred ghouls, distracted Tinker while we fled,” Alan said with a smirk, then added, “And Terry punched a hole through space. We met up inside the wall.”

The concern on Sol’s face grew as Alan spoke, a look of horror lodging there. “No, no, no,” he stammered. “That’s not possible. He’s put a tracker on you. He’s probably on his way now!”

Sol burst to his feet, looking around wildly. “We have to go. Don’t pack anything, just go!”

Terry bit his lip, looking around the group subtly before strolling down the stairs toward the world-famous S-Ranker. “Sol, it’s okay,” he said calmly. “I got away cleanly.”

“You can’t know that,” Sol barked. “Artificers have their tricks, Terry, and Tinker’s the trickiest of them all.”

Over Sol’s shoulder, Terry saw Tristan glance toward his new mentor with a concerned look. Behind him, he heard Klein begin to panic. “Maybe he’s right,” the man stammered. “It did seem like we got away a little bit too easily, didn’t it?”

“What?” Tania asked incredulously. “No, not at all. We barely made it by the skin of our fucking teeth. Sol, calm down.” She whirled on Klein. “And newbie, stop aggravating him!”

Sol’s breathing became audible, filling the great room as if he were struggling to pull in breath—the beginnings of a panic attack. Terry had realized what this was after the first time. He had suggested Sol take to the surface with them and the man had nearly ashed the entire room—and them with it. Since then, they’d been much more circumspect when talking about the war or their raids up top.

But now, it seemed Sol was on the verge of another attack. The lighting in the room flickered, then dimmed eerily. The candle sitting on the table began to melt rapidly, the flame drawing higher and higher, angling unnaturally toward Sol’s body, absorbing through his skin—deep into his core.

Looks of panic began to form among the others. Tania and Terry locked eyes, and she nodded her head toward Sol urgently. 

He approached the S-Ranker, holding his hands out in a calming gesture. “Sol, it’s gonna be okay. No one’s coming for us.”

“How do you know, Terry? How do you know?”

“We covered our tracks, Sol. We scanned ourselves with the sniffer Artifact, took half a dozen portals—even walked the last mile. There’s no way they tracked us, okay?”

Sol’s eyes scanned the corners of the room, flicking toward the shadows as if Tinker himself were going to walk into the light from behind the table. Tristan, picking up on Terry’s cues, walked around the chair and put a hand on Sol’s shoulder. The man flinched, then turned to see his new apprentice, concern in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Sol,” Tristan said quietly, as if speaking to a spooked horse. “We’re okay.”

Sol heaved in a deep breath, then let it out. The crazed look in his eye dimmed and sense seemed to return. When he glanced over at the larger group, he saw their concern directed toward him, realizing that he had been scaring everyone else just as much as he had been scaring himself.

“I’m okay,” he said softly. “I’m okay. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, Sol,” Terry said, trying to keep his voice calm. “We understand your concern, but we’re safe here.”

Sol nodded absentmindedly, resting a hand on the table. He looked weary, his skin pallid, the bones almost peeking out from beneath his clothes. His hair was tinted white, not from old age—since S-Rankers practically didn’t age—but from anxiety, stress, and terror.

Over a year in Necroton’s dungeon had done a number on him.

It pained Terry to see a once-great man reduced to a shell of himself, jumping at every shadow, every thump, every suggestion of conflict or capture. But he had to remind himself to be patient. No one knew Topeka better than Sol, and if he could recover his nerve, he would be their greatest weapon in reclaiming the city.

But first, they needed to get him some mental health help. Someone to talk to—maybe even a trained Hypnotist.

And Terry knew just the place to hire someone of that caliber.

“Now that Klein’s here,” he said to the group. “It’s time to return to the Market. We each have our reasons for heading back and I’m not comfortable leaving anyone here by themselves. Pack what you’ll need and be ready to go.

“We head for the Market in twenty minutes.”