Spires Of Iron

More than ninety minutes, that is how long it takes Kilo to hike over to Flandriel Gorge.

The deep gash in the land is not at all natural but was rather a result of a particularly vicious Swell attack that ended when the city of Flandriel collapsed into the wide scar across which streaks across the surface of Nari. Whether, the intent had been to achieve such an outcome or not no one but The Swell can know.

The Sergeant’s opinion is that it was intentional, and had always been the plan to make Flandriel collapse into the abyss created beneath. Much like he suspects the devastation did not reach the Innerworld from which The Swell are thought to have come.

Yes even that is not a certainty. And how could it be? It’s not like humanity has ventured through the tunnels created by their enemies in search of answers. If they could’ve gotten one of the drill transports to work then maybe things might’ve been different, but they hadn’t. Not for lack of trying however.

You see, in the early days of the conflict, mankind had set aside considerable resources, all found to have been wasted, in hopes of getting just one of the transports working. Yet, it seemed impossible. Not because they are damaged beyond repair or spent of fuel unknown and exotic upon arrival but rather due to them apparently only responding to Swell physiology.

To make matters worse, The Swell has to be alive it would seem to unlock and grant access. And while Swell have been captured, a small few it must be said, there has never been a successful attempt made at getting them to one of the potentially millions of transports which litter the surface of Nari.

As a result, hopes of achieving such a feat have long since been abandoned. Now the focus is on pushing the aggressive Innerworld species back. What that will achieve no one is quite sure. Much like it is not known what would follow thereafter. That is why, in part, Kilo, Oscar and November had been deployed on a mission to infiltrate through a prospective gateway, whatever that means, which is believed to lead to The Swell’s home region on the other side of Nari’s crust.

Command thinks if this is achieved that it would offer information and insight into how The Swell might be able to be pushed back, or better yet defeated altogether.

Seamus and Farrah both have doubts in regards to an outright defeat of The Swell however. Having fought on the frontlines since the beginning, there is no clearer sign of stalemate being the best possible outcome than the sheer number, unending it seems, of Swell which burst forth to partake in any combat situation larger than a skirmish, regardless of how far or wide it might be from where the bulk of their forces appear to have been engaged previously.

Kilo’s Corporal, the Sergeant thinks, put it best once.

It’s like The Swell are everywhere. Command must have thought so too for they are the ones who branded the invaders with the title of The Swell. What their real name might be, if they have one at all, is any human’s guess.

To be honest Seamus doesn’t rightly care. He’s tired and simply wants this war to end. It’s why he refused to follow orders, risking being court martialed if he survives, to save his brother.

“Awfully quiet don’t you think?” The Private says sounding about as on edge as any human possibly could without breaking into a mad inward chattering.

“You get used to it. It’s always quiet out in the areas where our cities used to be. It’s like The Swell did something, more than collapse them when they struck.” Is the reply from Farrah as she covers the rear of the three person squad who are stepping over scattered remains of single storey buildings, pipes and burgeoning plant file that has been allowed to grow unchecked.

“Did they?”

“No Private, they didn’t.”

“Least as far as we know they didn’t Sarge.”

Wishing he could argue but unable to Seamus admits, “True. But cut the chatter now. We might not be alone and we need to keep our eyes peeled in case…”

“Sergeant, what’s that?” The youngest member of the trio exclaims, pointing. Not that Seamus can see the youngsters’ outstretched arm bearing in mind he is behind Kilo’s CO.

Still, a quick sweeping glance soon takes care of that minor issue as Seamus’ eyes land on what Eben must be indicating toward, a discarded pack.

The Sergeant would recognise it anywhere, it belonged to Esmae.

She’d been a scientist before The Swell arrived and against GUN protocol insisted on carrying a satchel, worn over her shoulder, containing some equipment for the study of plant life. Kilo’s CO still recalls asking her about it and being informed that from her observations, as primitive as they were without a proper lab, it looked as though The Swell’s presence accelerated all forms of vegetative growth. Why, she couldn’t say. Much like she never explained why that appeared to worry her.

 Seamus, to this day, cannot imagine why that might be. However, it had been obvious that Esmae had, and would continue, to be unwilling to give reasons for her concerns.

The Sergeant, to be quite honest, had forgotten all about this until right now. Only laying eyes on that pack, discarded and sat on the ground had the memory resurfaced.

“It’s Esmae’s. Careful, it could be a trap. Watch where you step, there’s no way of knowing what The Swell might have lying in wait.”

Taking a deep breath as he moves closer, Seamus decides to order, “Farrah, Eben, hold off. I’ll recce. No need risking all our lives.”

Biting her tongue, part of Farrah thinks she should volunteer in place of Seamus. After all, he is Kilo’s CO. A good soldier; and she should know seeing as she has been in GUN since having joined at the tender age of nineteen. She’s in her thirties now.

Never willing to give more away about her age than the decade she is in, the woman with brown hair no long clinging to her skin due to sweat, largely because there is no plasma discharge to cook the air to an uncomfortable temperature, keeps her wits about her; ready for anything. Yet, her discomfort over the situation, with her CO going first could not be higher.

If Duncan was still alive and it was him surging forward she wouldn’t offer more than a shrug. He’d been a poor soldier. And no, this is not her speaking ill of the dead. This is Farrah speaking truth.

Seamus by comparison, though he would never admit it himself, might be on par with his older brother. She finds that all the more remarkable seeing as Seamus only entered the military because of The Swell, A-Day.

Under different circumstances she would’ve said his inclusion was for the best but she’d be lying if she said that as it took the near ruin of mankind for it to occur. Not something that sits well with her. Unlike her CO, her sergeant, Farrah is not tired, worn thin by the war. Maybe it’s because it isn’t her first, her most important definitely, but far from her most draining. She believes that is because combat, war, has become second nature to her. A routine slipped into, well performed and executed.

That is not to say she does not struggle, she does, they all do. It is just that she is used to the struggle in ways most aren’t; such as the draining nature of suffering and death. Tobin too is used to it like she is, and they had been squad mates once. That was a very long time ago though.

Shoving memories threatening to bubble to the fore out of her head, feeling now is not the time to wander through the avenues of her past, the Corporal forces her attention back to the present.

Seamus is growing ever closer to that discarded pack which could be…

Kilo’s CO reaches the pack without issue. Still, he doesn’t claim it immediately. Rather, he drops into a squat, swats some bugs away from his face and begins a careful study of the packs surroundings.

Bugs are one of the few things that can still be found in the wake of The Swell’s wrought devastation. All other animals it seems are either lost, having been swallowed up like the humans by such devastation, or have fled.

The Sergeant has never been capable of discerning which it might be, the most likely option, and so has come to admit that it might be a bit of both.

With his assessment of the packs surroundings complete and his conclusion being that there doesn’t seem to be a trap awaiting him, to claim his life, he stows his Draugr and reaches for the item with both hands. He might not if he had not felt its weight previously, but he has, and knows while both may not be entirely necessary to heft the weight, it would make things markedly easier. He cannot put a finger on exactly why and so continues to reach.

His fingertips pass over a section of the rough hemp satchels surface, with its frayed corners, threadbare patches and small moth eaten holes which somehow expose nothing of the packs contents, when there is sudden movement. Both the Sergeant and Farrah are alerted to it, Eben is covering the wider area surrounding them and so is not.

In the blink of an eye, with Seamus still retrieving his weapon, Farrah unleashes a long burst from her own Draugr.

A shriek, unmistakably Swell, is offered in swift reply. Yet, there is no stampede or surge of bodies as is the norm when Swell are involved. Rather, a single invader topples from out behind an overgrown stump wrapped in ivy.

The Sergeant, weapon back in hand and at his full height once more, looks toward Farrah who offers only a shrug.

A growl leaves Seamus’ mouth. It’s followed by a quick indication with his head. The Corporal snaps her fingers drawing Eben’s attention. His eyes, panicked and wide, had been locked on the Swell’s mass since the initial shots first rung; but with his blue eyes now on Kilo’s Corporal, the teenager is given directions to advance. He complies and alongside Seamus and Farrah closes in around The Swell.

The mass of armour remains motionless. That is until Farrah kicks it. For in response, the body turns revealing it is dead. Farrah spits, showing a snarl right after as she mutters, “If only they all went down so easy.”

She doesn’t need to say it. Seamus understands her insinuation well for if The Swell were so easy to eliminate then humanity would not be on the brink of extinction, their civilization in ruins. Alas they are. Though, these thoughts do not prevent him from studying the dead enemy specimen before them.

“Looks like The Swell had already been injured and was bleeding out.”

“Fuck, I gave it a quick death.” The dissatisfaction in Farrah’s tone could not be more evident if she tried, and no she isn’t trying.

These are her uncensored reactions. Not that the corporal ever tends to censor the words that come out of her mouth ever anyway.

Ignoring the outburst Kilo’s CO turns his attention back toward the pack.

“What are you thinking Sarge?”

“That where there is Swell and a pack which belonged to a member of Oscar there must be signs of where they went.”

No longer does the Sergeant think it necessary to recover the satchel. It is clear Oscar are not present. His only hope is that wherever they are they are still alive. He won’t go so far as to say well. That might be a bit of a stretch, too much to hope for. Much like saying safe would be, in his eyes.

“Spread out, we need to find a hint as to where they might’ve gone.” Is the last order Seamus gives before the trio fan out to cover the surrounding area in search of anything that could suggest where Oscar have gone. After all, there is no sign of bodies or blood.

Seven minutes of searching ends when Eben shouts, “Think I’ve found something over here.”

It takes no time at all for Farrah and Seamus to collapse upon the Private’s position, and while there has been no signs of anymore Swell activity that does not mean any of them have their weapons stowed.

Yet, instantly both older members of Kilo spot what Eben has alerted them too, footprints. Alas, they are evidently not those of Oscar but rather The Swell.

“What do you think Far?” The Sergeant says requesting the opinion of his more experienced squadmate.

Dropping to one knee, the brown haired woman takes a closer look at the footprints. Her eyes search and do not rest for more than a moment until her index and middle finger touch one of the tracks.

“Looks like they went that way…” The woman points with the tip of her dirt smeared index finger.

“…but doesn’t seem they were pursuing anyone though.”

“You thinking it must have been capture then?”

“Of Oscar, yes I am judging by these grooves.” The Corporal admits while pointing toward the rough twin trenches craved through the dirt and foliage.

“They are synonymous with a body being dragged.”

“The Swell got them? Didn’t think they took prisoners?” Eben blurts; his tone worried and fearful.

“Yeah, they do.” Seamus admits not wanting to elaborate further but fully capable of doing so if Eben were to push the issue. Thankfully, he does not. Fear has its benefits; it makes you reticent to ask questions sometimes and that can, contrary to popular belief, be beneficial.

Yeah sure, perhaps the benefit is more Seamus’ than his Private’s, but that is just how it goes sometimes.

Eben isn’t stupid however, he gets that there is something his Sergeant, his CO, does not want to say, to explain. Gulping silently the teenager hopes that it isn’t anything that might save his life he is knew. Surely his CO would tell him if it were.

He seems like a decent enough sort, the teenager thinks. Much like the Corporal does, and it is clear the pair have known each other for a while too. The way they are together, the familiarity in how they converse, is proof enough of that.

Breaking the uneasy silence that is hanging in the air around them, Seamus queries, “Think we can track them?”

Turning her head and angling it perfectly as she rises back to her full height, hazel eyes never leaving the Sergeant’s brown ones her response is, “Should be able to. But Shay we don’t know…”

“I know. But I need to try. Not just for Tobin but for Esmae and Xiang too. I can’t leave them here without being sure. You understand, right Far?”

The woman’s shoulders drops as a sigh escapes from between her barely parted lips. The reaction is followed by a flexing of her jaw and then the admittance, “I do. So let’s get going. We stay here much longer we’re likely to get some unwanted visitors, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.”

“Come on Private, we’re following the Corporal, best tracker there is you know.”

No argument given, Eben follows in the footsteps of his older squad mates.

Alas, the trio manage only a few hundred metres before coming under fire. It’s The Swell. It was only ever going to be The Swell. Thankfully, there is only a few of them. Not enough to present an unconquerable threat. It’s just as well seeing as they used several shatter grenades during their previous engagement.

“Private, keep laying down cover fire at your end. Corporal, put a frag in there. I want them driven out my way. Don’t worry; I have a bead on them.”

There is no chatter. Eben does as he’s been ordered, as does Farrah who tosses a simple fragmentation grenade right behind The Swell’s cover. It’s a perfect throw and sees the armoured forms hulk out and into view, wishing to avoid the stream of bullets being laid down by the private.

Smiling wide, Seamus lets loose, picking off the targets. If they shriek and cry he does not hear it. And the likelihood of him ever lessens when he is joined by Farrah.

In all the firefight lasts a couple minutes at most. Still, Kilo vigilantly checks the aftermath to ensure none of their foes can unleash a sneak attack of any kind. They can’t, The Swell are dead. Their bodies’ limp, lifeless and without blood spilling.

The lack of blood leaves Kilo’s CO having to resist the urge to react to a shudder which creeps up his spine. It doesn’t happen often but nevertheless now would not be right to react to, especially seeing as he is in charge of this squad now. That reminder, thought, seals the deal, the decision, more than anything previously might have, which had been professionalism.

He thinks that is why he refused to let the shudder manifest physically. Whether that is true or not, he cannot say.

“Tracks over here; looks like they went this way.” Is the announcement from the Corporal which ends any considerations which had been queued up in the Sergeants’ head.

Understandably, it’s almost certainly why Eben and Seamus fall in step behind her. The Sergeant having decided it best he covers the flank for his squad while Farrah leads with her tracking capabilities.

Mostly, he is does it because he thinks it best to protect the teenager as best as possible. He’s an inexperienced soldier after all. Though, would be lying if he didn’t admit he seriously dislikes not being the one at the front of the line. Honestly, he feels that is his place, even more so now he is in command of Kilo. Yet, Farrah is far more than capable at tracking and so there existed little other choice.

After all, you obviously cannot track from the back of a line. If you could then he would not have accepted this configuration, begrudgingly or otherwise.

Three additional near identical small-scale skirmishes, if they should be called that at all which Farrah feels they should not and would be better labelled tussles, plus a few miles of hiking end when the tracks do too.

Where Kilo are now is blanketed in vegetation too dense for traces of anything, even Swell, to have been left, if they continued on this way which they must have.

Still, they continue heading in the same direction and luckily soon find that the presence of tracks were not vital as just over the crest of a hill, which isn’t natural but the result of a massive drill transport sat at a precarious angle, Kilo discovers what can only be on old abandoned GUN outpost. The only issue is that it doesn’t look quite so abandoned anymore, though it clearly had been, with plasma weapon emplacements and fresh spires of iron protruding from the ground. The transports having joined those which already can be seen sprinkled liberally throughout the surrounding area, making Eben wonder if any section of Nari is not marred by these things.

Unlike the outpost, which has been largely reclaimed by vines, branches and leaves, the drills have remained clear. Only some, a select few really, of their metal shells having begun to show early signs of rust.

Until now, this very moment, Seamus had not thought to wonder as to why foliage does not grow around the hulking drills that carried The Swell from their Innerworld. Yet now he can think of little else, and as a result leaves him feeling uneasy. It’s a feeling which would have worsened, he suspects, if he were not back at the head of the advance, like he is.

There was no way he was going to allow anyone else to be as they descended the created hill toward the outpost which looks deserted.

As a veteran of this ‘war’ Seamus is fully aware that with The Swell looks are often deceiving, which is exactly why each member of Kilo has their Draugr raised and ready to open fire.

During the descent, Eben remains in the middle of the line with Farrah again taking up the rear.

Once they reach the outpost, the heavy gates of which have been peeled back as if they were not made of heavy armoured metal sheets, the line is no more. Rather, they are gathered loosely, so if any explosive were hurled their way it would not claim all of their lives in one fell swoop.

“If this is one of ours, then why are The Swell out here? They don’t take over our old installations, do they?”

The Private has a good point, The Swell do not. At least not according to anything that Farrah has seen during this war, since A-Day.

“I think we need to head inside. Only place Oscar can be.” Announces Kilo’s CO who makes no efforts to acknowledge the queries uttered by the newest member of his squad.

“Shay, is that wise? We don’t know what we might be walking into. There could be traps set by our own side.”

“What really?” The Private blurts startled, his blue eyes blinking rapidly in that way they always do when his fear begins to reach a too high of a level and leaves him feeling overwhelmed by events.

“We’ve come this far, I can’t give up now. If you want to hold back, radio command and ask for…”

“You’re not going in alone. And you know full well command, if they answer, will tell me to shove it.”

The Corporal has a point, they will, but he was hoping for once Farrah would take the out offered to her. He should’ve known better that isn’t her style, not at all. So knowing there is no other option he admits, “Then in we go. Be a first for all of us, won’t it?”

“Yeah, it will. Always wanted to see what The Swell get up to behind closed doors, out of sight of prying eyes.” A sneer slides across Farrah’s face, her brows lowers and furrows while her eyes turn steelier than usual.

This expression on the Corporal’s face, this is her game face. Well, it’s one of them; the most serious one in fact. The sort she only tends to don when shit is most definitely going to hit the fan.

“Run a check on gear and then we push.” Is the order uttered by the Sergeant who checks his Draugr, a full mag already slapped in place, and then waits.

As you might expect Eben is the last to show ready.

“On my count.” Kilo’s CO informs, raising his hand, three fingers of which are outstretched.

The digits count off at an even pace. One learned over the few short years of doing this sort of thing. Then when the last digit drops they push in.

Seamus is first. Farrah follows right after with Eben a couple seconds behind.

The interior of the outpost looks much like the exterior, overgrown, green, abandoned but with clear signs of recent activity being present.

Hand gestures are issued to demand the Corporal and Private fan out, they comply and within minutes the small interior is declared clear, save for a stairwell which descends.

“Where do you think it leads?”

“Basement, maybe but who knows.”

“Either way we have to check it.” Kilo’s CO adds right after his previous statement, with barely a pause between.

The trio say no more as they descend the steps partially scrubbed of foliage.

At the base of the concrete stairs they find a corridor woven thick with vines. Their presence makes the space feel all the more claustrophobic. None of them says a word as they push down the arrow straight corridor. That is until they come across a doorway.

“We should check it, make sure there isn’t…” Farrah trails off. Not that she needs to finish her statement as her CO agrees.

With a quick hand gesture they surround the doorway. A deep inward breath is taken and then the door is wrenched open. It doesn’t swing smoothly, dragging against the vines under foot. Yet, as soon as the door is wide Kilo regrets their actions for they are presented with an alcove into which is stuffed a body. Eben begins to choke and cannot help but turn away. Farrah and Seamus meanwhile stand with horrified looks on their faces.

“Is that…” Is all the Corporal manages before her sergeant informs, “Yeah, it’s Xiang alright.”

“What do you mean that’s Xiang? That doesn’t look human.”

“Eben’s right, Shay. That doesn’t look human.”

“Yeah, but we both know it’s him.”

Not wanting to admit as much the Corporal instead asks, “What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know…” Seamus admits defeated, a terrible weight sitting on his chest. “…but we have to keep going.”

With that the Sergeant takes one last look as the gory mess and then turns away. The last look was him paying silent respects to the twisted human face of Xiang, a now former member of Oscar.

Kilo find no more doorways along their route, which they are relieved about, but do step out of the confines of the corridor. Doing so brings them additional relief and thanks.

Sadly they find themselves in an equally vine choked room. An eerie feeling washes over the trio. Each of them resists the strong urge to shudder as they move deeper into the space. Yet, they pause when a bright light begins to flash.

It soon strikes Eben that the light isn’t blinking in the way you would expect something failing to be, but rather in a manner he can only think to call sinister. He can’t explain it but says not a word as he stays in step with his senior team members.

When they lay eyes on the surgical table with a body, still and lifeless, with a weird cylinder behind it, upright and pulsing with bright flashes, they exchange looks. All of them are wary, horrified, hesitant.

“What is that laid out on the…”

The Corporal gets no answer to her query. Rather, without a word Seamus edges forward. When he gets close enough and his eyes settle on the face he shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh.

“It’s Esmae; what’s left of her.”

In a blink Eben and Farrah join their Sergeant. Despair carved into their faces like it is their CO’s.

“What are those tubes in her?” The youngest member of Kilo asks.

“Shay, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I fucking hope not, but maybe.”

“What, what are you both thinking?”

With a roll of one shoulder, the best Seamus can do to fight off the urge to shudder uncontrollably, he skims round one end of the slab Esmae is laid out on and begins to examine the cylinder.

It takes considerable effort to ignore what is left of Esmae, the gruesome carcass splayed out naked and…

Against his better judgement, Seamus places his hand against the cylinder.

“It’s warm.”

“Shay, I’m not sure we should…”

Ignoring the warning because he feels he has to know, Kilo’s CO punches a button. The cylinder belches mist which sends the Sergeant into a coughing fit. But that is nothing compared to when the fog clears revealing the body of a Swell.

In a blink Seamus has his weapon levelled and ready to fire. Farrah follows suit. Eben on the other hand is too flabbergasted to do anything other than stand and stare, slack jawed. Yet, Seamus does not fire. Instead, the barrel of his weapon drops out of the blue, his shoulders following suit soon after. Farrah, about to ask why her CO has reacted in this way, never gets the chance because Seamus announces in a sullen tone of voice, “It’s Tobin.”

“What?” Is the exclamation that bursts from the Corporal’s lips.

“It can’t be. That’s a Swell. Your brother was human. Like us. Like…”

Suddenly it hits Farrah, sending her brain sideways.

“The sick bastards; they couldn’t have. No. No, we’ve got this all wrong.” The brunette begins to mutter.

“I don’t think we have Far. I wish we had but…”

“But what… What’s going on?” Eben, yet to reach the same conclusion his squadmate have, queries perplexed.

“It would explain why they’re so limitless.”

“What would?” The teenager urges to know for a second time.

“Eben…” Sergeant Seamus Ving says turning toward the youngest and newest member of Kilo so that he can look him in the eye as he explains, “…The Swell are converting us, into them.”

The young Private’s jaw almost hits the floor it drops so far. Though, he still manages to utter, “That can’t be possible…” His head shaking slowly from side to side as the words leave his mouth.

“What other explanation is there?”

Eben doesn’t know but it can’t be that The Swell are humans. There has to be another explanation. Maybe The Swell are experimenting in hopes of finding a clear physiological distinction which they can exploit or…

“Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!” The Corporal repeats a number of times. Each successive utterance more rage and venom filled than the last.

“We need to call this in. Command has to know about this.” Kilo’s CO suddenly blurts, his voice sounding distant.

He does not wait for a reply however and he activates his radio. For his efforts he is rewarded with nothing but static.

“Shit! The concrete is blocking the signal. We need to get back to…”

The ground begins to shudder and shake. Terrified, Eben looks all around like a startled animal.

He had hoped the movement was somehow him, but it isn’t. The entire room is shaking. Like all surviving humans he knows what that means. Terror grips him as he looks toward his CO.

“Swell, they’re boring through. We need to get out. NOW!”

The order issued coincides with an explosion of debris. Dust fills the air making it virtually impossible to see. The three members of Kilo start coughing, choking on the particles as they suck them down into their lungs because humans cannot help but instinctively breathe.

Mercifully, the spluttering does not override their individual survival instincts which push the trio in a retreat, heading back they way they came.

Now more than ever, as they stumble about with the shaking growing ever more violent, the corridor feels cramped and claustrophobic.

Somehow able to see even less than they could previously the members of Kilo are forced to resort to feeling their way down the corridor. Their fingers and open palms passing over thick leaves and vines as they go.

Continuing to choke, Seamus thinks this would be easier if not for the unlevel floor or if they were not in complete darkness. Regardless of what he would prefer he refuses to quit, to give up.

The rumbling in his ears is deafening now. He trips. Realising he has reached the stairs he drops to all fours and clambers up the steep steps. He cannot tell but hopes Eben and Farrah are close behind.

Suddenly he slips out of the stairwell and into the bright light of day. His eyes squint to narrow slits due to the sudden pain caused by daylight.

Still coughing the Sergeant turns. Eben and Farrah are right there with him. He feels some semblance of relief. Then clearing his throat but still spluttering he kills and then reactivates his radio link.

“Command, this is Kilo. Command, come in. Fuck! Come in. We’ve found something. Somebody!”

“Kilo, this is command.”

From the voice, Seamus is aware it isn’t the officer, whoever he had been. Though, he finds it difficult to hear properly over the roar of rocks being drilled by The Swell transport, wherever it might be. He would’ve expected it to have breached by now but it has not as yet. That leaves him feeling heavily concerned.

Who cares! Relay the discovery!

Snapping out of his daze, Kilo’s CO does exactly that while Farrah and Eben stand around him, offering what protection they can as they wait for The Swell to attack. It’s inevitable. All three of them know it.

“We found Oscar, they’re KIA. But it looks like…”

The ground moves. Just not in a way Seamus would’ve expected. He decides he has to be wrong. That his mind is playing tricks on him for there is no way the ground could be…

Suddenly the dirt, vines, concrete and rocks beneath his feet disappear. Turning to look at Eben and then Farrah, he finds they are wearing the expression he can imagine is plastered across his own face.

“The Swell they’re…” Is all the Sergeant manages before he and his team members drop down into the void beneath them.

The ground swallowing them up.