The scythe flashed down.
There was no scream. The blow was unnaturally clean, a flicker of black obsidian that severed function and life in the same instant. Patrin's body crumpled to the stone floor, a puppet with its strings cut.
From his lifeless hand, the newly attuned geode rolled a few feet, coming to rest on the cavern floor. It blazed with a fierce, pure amethyst light, a beacon of triumph in a chamber of death. A symbol of their salvation, held in the hand of a dead man.
Borin let out a roar of pure, untamed rage. He slammed a mailed fist against the observation window, the thick crystal groaning under the impact.
"They killed him," the big warrior snarled, his voice a low growl of thunder. He turned, his eyes blazing, ready to smash the door and charge into the sea of waking monsters. "I'll tear them apart!"
"You will do nothing," Arthur's voice was like a splash of ice water.
He hadn't flinched. He hadn't looked away. His gaze was fixed on the cavern, his mind a whirlwind of cold calculation. Patrin's death was a finalized expense. A resource spent. The only thing that mattered now was the asset the engineer had purchased with his life.
"He is gone, Borin," Arthur said, his voice devoid of sympathy. "Your rage is a liability. It will get us both killed and make his sacrifice worthless."
"Sacrifice?" Borin spun on him, his face contorted with grief and fury. "You sent him to his death!"
"I sent him to do a job," Arthur corrected, his gaze unblinking. "He succeeded. Our mission is not over. It has just begun."
He pointed out the window. The hive was awake. The thousands of Sentinels were stirring, their purple fissures flaring to full, menacing brightness. But they were not swarming. They were moving with a strange, jerky precision, re-forming their ranks, turning to face the Heartstone as if receiving new orders. A low, harmonic hum filled the air, the sound of a network coming online.
Arthur's Sovereign's Gaze pierced the chaos, feeding him information.
[Hive Status: Rebooting...]
[Primary Directive: Re-establish Link with Heartstone Control Node]
[Secondary Directive: Secure Perimeter]
[Estimated Time to Full Combat Readiness: 5 Minutes]
They had a window. A small, insane window of opportunity while the hive was disoriented.
"The geode, Borin," Arthur said, his mind formulating a desperate, high-speed plan. "We are not leaving without it."
He looked at the big warrior. He saw the rage still simmering there, but beneath it, the lifetime of discipline was reasserting itself. Borin was a soldier. He followed orders.
"What is the plan, Commander?" Borin asked, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
"A diversion," Arthur said simply. "You are the loudest, most distracting thing in this entire mountain. I need you to draw their attention. Not to fight them all, but to create chaos. Use the sonic weakness. Keep them confused."
"And you?"
"I am smaller and faster," Arthur stated. "While you are their storm, I will be the thief in the wind. I will get the stone."
It was a suicidal plan, but it was the only one they had. Borin gave a single, grim nod.
He took a deep breath, hefted his axe, and smashed the seal on the observation post door. He burst out into the cavern like a beast uncaged.
"FOR AL'KHEM!" he roared, his voice a challenge to the entire hive.
He didn't charge into the thick of them. He ran along the cavern wall, slamming his axe against the stone with all his might. The resulting CLANG was a thunderclap that sent a wave of disorientation through the nearest dozen Sentinels. They staggered, their purple lights flickering.
That was the signal.
Arthur sprinted from the post, his movements low and swift. He was not a warrior, but he was a predator, and he knew how to move with purpose. The air was electric, the hum of the hive vibrating through the soles of his boots.
He ran towards the center of the cavern, towards Patrin's still form. The amethyst light of the geode was his only focus, a single point of salvation in a world of waking nightmares.
A Sentinel turned toward him, its scythe-limb raising. Before it could lock on, a thunderous CRASH echoed from the far wall as Borin smashed his axe into a crystalline formation, drawing the creature's attention.
Arthur reached the body. He did not allow himself to look at the old engineer's face. He focused only on the mission. He snatched the geode from the ground. It was warm, thrumming with a clean, potent energy, a stark contrast to the oppressive power of the Heartstone.
He had it.
"Borin! West wall!" he screamed, his voice raw. "Find another way out!"
He turned and ran, not back the way they came, but deeper, toward the side of the cavern he had noted from the observation post. There had to be other passages, other exits.
Borin, hearing the command, broke off his chaotic symphony of destruction and began a fighting retreat toward Arthur's position. He was a whirlwind of steel and fury, his axe a blur, shattering obsidian limbs and creating space with deafening sonic blows against the cavern itself. But he was being swarmed.
Dozens of Sentinels now converged on him, their movements becoming faster, more coordinated.
Arthur reached the west wall, frantically searching for any sign of an opening. He saw it—a hairline seam in the rock, almost identical to the one that had hidden the observation post. An emergency exit.
He threw his shoulder against it. It didn't budge. It was sealed tight.
Behind him, Borin roared in pain as a scythe caught his pauldron, tearing through the metal and gouging a deep wound in his shoulder. He staggered, but did not fall. He stood his ground, a lone warrior against an army, buying Arthur precious seconds.
Arthur slammed his body against the door again and again. The stone groaned. He could see Borin being overwhelmed, the purple lights closing in on him like a hungry tide. The big warrior's movements were slowing. His armor was dented and torn.
With a final, desperate heave, the door scraped open, revealing a dark, narrow passage.
Arthur turned back.
Borin was on one knee, his axe held in a defensive posture, but his strength was failing. A half-dozen Sentinels surrounded him, their scythes raised for the final, synchronized kill.
Arthur stood in the doorway of their only escape. In his left hand, he held the geode, the key to their city's survival. In front of him, his most loyal and powerful asset was about to be extinguished.
His cold, pragmatic mind screamed at him to run, to save the mission, to cut the acceptable loss.
But the Sovereign's Gaze showed him the tag above Borin's head, no longer suicidal, but a blaze of pure, unadulterated [LOYALTY].
For the first time since coming to this world, the politician's calculation faltered.