Marisol had never seen snow before. She’d heard about it in other parts of the continent, but hailing from a desert town where even precipitation was dangerously low, she’d never come in contact with the fluffy white puffs people called ‘snowflakes’.

  Children ran out onto the streets in thick wool coats and earmuffs, building snowmen in the back alleys. Clothing shops stopped selling loose and thin summer wear for more elegant, cold-proofing garments. The ice cream she liked eating so, much in Familia or in any of the candy houses around the city stopped being an enjoyable snack—she hated what Reina and Helena called ‘brain freeze’, and it completely ruined the ice cream experience for her.

  She’d just have to survive the winter months and grab another bite afterwards.

  It’d been three months since she lost to Rhizocapala again. Seven months since she first arrived at the Whirlpool City. Ten months since she set off from her desert town. It was a cold winter's morning when three pebbles soared over the roof of the Highwind Inn to hit Maria, Reina, and Marisol on the forehead. The truth was, all of them could've dodged or blocked or sent the pebble flying back if they wanted, but they were too preoccupied with training to care about such cheap provocation.

  Maria had been nothing but a strict teacher. She couldn't fight as long as Claudia didn't permit her, but with her household's resources, there were more than enough Highwind Dolls to go around sparring with. Reina and Marisol had been doing nothing but trying to survive against ten Highwind Dolls set at maximum power all at once, every single day for an entire month.

  Suffice it to say, they were already weary and haggard first thing in the morning, and trying to read Maria's giant ‘advice’ notes between dodges was a nigh-impossible task.

  Solid advice. Reina had a habit of relying on her scorpion tail for dealing with every attack, and that made both her defense and offense too straightforward. Until she could figure out what her Art was—and considering her class was based on Eurypteria, who’d never been observed using hers before, and there was also no record of a Mutant-Class water scorpion ever existing—she had to practice making herself more mobile. When five dolls were surrounding her, she couldn't just stand her ground and fight all of them off at the same time. She had to put herself in a position where she could single them out one by one and actually eliminate them from the fight.

  Easier said than done, of course.

  … Much, much, easier said than done. Marisol's biggest weakness was still stamina—using all of her mutations and techniques and activating her Art on top of that drained her incredibly quickly, so her focus the past month was longevity. Durability. The ability to not trip on her glaives whenever she was tired, because while she may not be able to sink with her gravity harness on, a bug could most certainly stab out her heart while she was busy getting up.

  Now, the difference in quality between what Reina got for advice and what Marisol got for advice felt pretty personal, but what felt personal was Victor sneaking up on all three of them and whacking them over the head with his cane. One, two, three—just like that. The old man was in tip-top form today. They crumpled like sacks of buckwheat, and then he disabled the rest of the dolls with a single snap of a finger.

  “Don't ignore my pebbles,” Victor grumbled, kicking Marisol in the thigh as she tried to crawl onto her glaives. “It’s time. Lighthouse Seven is calling for all of you, and that includes you, Maria. Don’t worry, they ain’t—” He dodged Maria throwing her notebook at his head. “Making you sit in the infirmary for this one. Even if you can’t dive in your condition, you can still make those fast eyes of yours useful.”

  Maria scowled, scribbling on the snowy roof with her finger.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Victor shrugged, turning to leave all of them behind. “The Depth Five Reclamation Mission is commencing tomorrow. We’ll have one last strategy meeting with all involved members present.”

  As always, the conference room atop Lighthouse Seven was all cold steel and reinforced glass. It certainly wasn’t a warm place to be in, especially during the winter, but nobody who was here wanted to stay here for long—except maybe for Andres, who seemed like a permanent fixture in Lighthouse Seven.

  Marisol stepped in alongside Reina and Maria, the echoes of their boots bouncing off the walls. Around the long table in the centre of the room, the core of the city leadership were already sat in waiting: Andres, Hugo, Claudia, and the First Lighthouse Imperator. Victor and a few dozen high-ranking Imperators were standing along the glass walls as well. Three seats were left empty around the table, so Reina and Maria each took their favourite chairs—but then Marisol was left with the chair at the end of the table, facing Andres on the other end directly.

  To this day, she still had no idea why she got a seat while Victor was forced to stand, but knowing the old man’s personality, maybe Andres just didn’t want to make him comfortable.

  “Sit,” Andres said, his tone brooking no argument.

  While she practically jumped into her chair out of fright, half a dozen Imperators stepped forward and rolled a bunch of maps, charts, and reports across the table. As usual, none of the Lighthouse Imperators bothered picking them up, but she scanned each of them over once for her Archive to memorise all the important information.

  “... Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin,” Andres said, placing both hands on the table as he leaned forward with a stern, steady one-eyed gaze. “Good news: Depth Four is secured. It took us the better part of two months to stabilise it between the barnacles and crustaceans that keep swimming up to disrupt our forces, but now, attacks on the southernmost front have slowed to a near-complete halt. Well done to everyone.”

  Nobody clapped. And Marisol knew they had Depth Four secured—she’d been diving down periodically to help with exterminating the Giant-Class bugs—so the news didn’t exactly come as a surprise.

  They weren’t gathered here to celebrate.

  Andres gestured to the maps scattered around the table. For her ease of reading, the Archive projected a patched-together map of Depth Four in its entirety. Thick, dark lines marked the jagged canyon pathways, with tiny wooden watchtower models scattered across key chokepoints. “We’ve established watchtowers and reinforced our choke points with new outposts. Resupplying between Depth Four and Depth Five is now possible, so we’ll be moving ahead with the Depth Five Reclamation Mission tomorrow morning. Here’s what we know about Depth Five based on our investigations the past two months.”

  To make a point, Andres tossed out a stack of blank white papers, and everyone grimaced where they were.

  “Nothing,” Andres said, almost too casually. “The mist is too thick for any of our drones and observation constructs to return any meaningful information. We’ll be diving almost completely in the dark, but the one thing we know is this: based on Maria and Reina’s reports from two months ago, Rhizocapala and Eurypteria are, indeed, working with each other. At the very least, they’re not trying to kill each other on sight. Even though it’s unprecedented, we must assume they’ve teamed up and are waiting for us down in Depth Five.”

  “What about Kalakos?” Claudia asked.

  Hugo leaning forward in his chair. “Still in Depth Seven as far as we can tell,” he said. “Her aura signal has basically remained unchanged the past two months. The moment she moves, we’d know, and she hasn’t moved. We shouldn’t have to worry about her in Depth Five.”

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  “But even without Kalakos or Marculata, this dive to reclaim Depth Five will still be critically dangerous,” Andres said plainly, lips thinning. “Since there’s going to be two Insect Gods—and considering the fact that Rhizocapala appears to be far stronger than when we last fought him twelve years ago, even if he hasn’t gone up a rank—we’re sparing no effort reclaiming Depth Five. who’s capable of diving will descend tomorrow.”

  Marisol blinked. Andres wasn’t done.

  “For starters: Marisol, Reina, Hugo, and Claudia. The four of you will be the vanguards against Eurypteria, the anti-personnel Water Scorpion God,” he began, looking at all four of them in sequence before nodding at the Imperators standing around them. “The preparations are complete. Eurypteria is anti-army like Rhizocapala. She’s prone to getting distracted by artillery and distant bombardment, so while the vanguards engage her in melee, the rest of the Imperators and Guards will barrage her with everything we have from afar.”

  “I’m assuming by ‘vanguard’, you mean I’ll be using my webs to protect these two,” Hugo said, thumbing back at Marisol and Reina.

  “And by ‘vanguard’, ye mean I’ll be the medical officer on standby in case somethin’ happens to these two,” Claudia added, also thumbing back at Marisol and Reina.

  “Correct,” Andres said, nodding firmly. “The two of you are not suited for frontline combat, anyways. Leave the close-range engagement to Marisol and Reina. I trust they have no qualms about facing the E-Rank Water Scorpion God in direct melee?”

  Marisol shook her head. It was easier doing so than the last time she’d been told to dive down and face an Insect God. Maybe it was because she knew she was stronger, or maybe it was just because she was more reckless and arrogant and overconfident in her abilities—but the fact was, with the literal rest of the Imperators behind her, she couldn’t fathom not being able to dodge Eurypteria’s tail if it came down to a single, decisive strike.

  She wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt because she was too slow to react.

  And Reina’s hands clenched into fists as well, her knuckles pale. The two of them didn’t need to say a word. They were in.

  “... Good,” Andres said, nodding with satisfaction. Then he turned to Maria, dipping his head respectfully. “Regretfully, Maria, I can’t let you dive in your current state. You’re not well enough. You’ll only be a drag on the rest of us.”

  Maria gave him the finger, but it was in good spirit. Andres let out an uncharacteristic chuckle.

  “There something for you to do, though,” Hugo mumbled, thumbing at Reina. “Since Reina’s coming with us, someone needs to be up here monitoring Kalakos’ aura signal. You’ll do that. Command Lighthouse Five, and pay attention to all of our diving bells and the observation constructs we’ll be taking down with us. If Kalakos even so much as twitches a muscle, we’re extracting immediately and leaving Depth Five. Got it?”

  Maria gave him a thumbs-up. Andres looked like he was about to continue, but then Victor cleared his throat to chime in as well.

  “Oh, I’ll also be going with you guys,” he said casually. “Since Maria will handle the observation on the surface, I’ll be handling the observation and coordination down there. I won’t be leaving my diving bell, of course, so just think of me as…” He trailed off for a moment before looking at Marisol, giving her the worst, most imperceivable wink. “Moral support.”

  the Archive corrected.

  Andres grumbled before turning to the First Lighthouse Imperator—the hunchback old man leaning so hard against his sheathed blade he looked like he was about to fall out of his chair. “The First and I will also be diving down with the rest of you,” Andres said. “The two of us will take down Rhizocapala by ourselves. Since the bug’s an anti-army specialist, we’ll drag him away as far as possible so he doesn’t disturb your fight against Eurypteria. If he gets close to the backline artillery, he destroy our formation, so our job will be to keep him preoccupied no matter the cost.”

  Marisol blinked again.

  the Archive explained.

  Marisol frowned. It was hard to believe the old hunchback was someone powerful, but if he , then it stood to reason the two of them would be able to give Rhizocapala a good run for his money.

  Nobody in the room was questioning the two of them, either, so their strength must truly be something else.

  “... Honestly, that’s about all we’ve got for you.” Victor clapped his hands suddenly before tilting his head, sending everyone a crooked grin under his bandages. “You don’t need to worry about Rhizocapala since those two fossils will deal with him, you don’t need to worry about observation and coordination since me and Maria will have that handled, so all you have to do is bombard Eurypteria with more attacks than she can deal with. She’s not an anti-personnel specialist for no reason. We throw enough stuff at her, and she’ll actually die.”

  It wasn’t going to be as easy as that, and everyone in the room knew that, but hearing Victor it aloud was more reassuring than not—so when Andres dismissed everyone and told them all to write their wills, get a good night’s rest, and prepare themselves for tomorrow’s dive, there was heated and excited chatter all around the Imperators.

  The stakes were high, but knowing quite literally powerhouse in the city would be accompanying her down to Depth Five was a big deal.

  Marisol, too, didn’t really feel like this mission was going to be tougher than the last.

  The Archive sighed.

  Marisol exchanged a glance with Maria and Reina as they all left the room.

  “Get some last-minute training in?” she asked.

  Maria raised an eyebrow, and Reina’s face softened into the barest hint of approval.

  “Then after that,” Marisol continued, “one more trip to Familia for a bite of brain-freezing ice cream?”

  And that got the girls smiling, too, as Maria grabbed the two of them by the neck and practically wrangled them down the stairs for their final day of intensive training.

  “... You know, I made it sound like this mission’s going to be no biggie, but it might be more troublesome than they think leaving this room,” Victor said, humming softly as he joined Andres by the glass wall at the end of the room.

  The mist from the roaring whirlpool below clung to Lighthouse Seven like a second layer of paint. The sound of rushing, swirling water was softer in winter, but there was no mistaking it—this was just the calm before the storm. The snowflakes falling slowly were but a feint. The whirlpool’s surface laziness was but a distraction to get them to lower their guard, and, to his credit, Andres didn’t seem to be falling for it, either.

  "They believe what they need to believe to strengthen themselves in battle,” Andres said quietly, narrowing his eye down at the whirlpool. “If my presence gives them reassurance, then so be it.”

  Victor exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "This is going to be troublesome either way. If the Four Leviathans are teaming up and working together…”

  Andres grunted, his expression unflinching. "Between me and the First, we’ll take on Rhizocapala. The others can handle Eurypteria. We’ve faced worse odds."

  "You sure about that?”

  “If things look like they’re going to go horribly wrong, you’re free to use your Art and kill yourself on your way out.”

  Victor barked a short laugh. “Oh, but that my job, ain’t it? No. I won’t use it. I’ve got one shot left, and I’m aiming it right at Corpsetaker. Using it on an Insect God would be overkill.”

  Andres laughed too, the sound dry and hollow like the echo of a memory. "Don’t act like you’re completely off the hook. You’ve still got that little thing in your pocket, don’t you? The one that’ll keep you fighting just a little longer?"

  Victor’s hand instinctively brushed inside his coat, where a small, smooth object rested in an inner pocket.

  "I’m not planning on using it,” he said quietly. “Same as my Art. You know that."

  Andres tilted his head, his sharp eye furrowing slightly. "And who the hell are you saving that for?"

  Victor didn’t answer, his gaze drifting back to the whirlpool.

  The roar of the water filled the silence between them.

  "... Thought so," Andres said, his tone lighter now. He reached into his own coat and pulled out two bottles of ale, passing one to Victor.

  Victor accepted it with a raised brow. "Planning on drinking before we head down?"

  Andres popped the cork from his bottle and took a long swig before answering. "Whether we live or die, the only thing that matters is doing what only old men can do when the time comes."

  Victor stared at him for a moment. Then he uncorked his own bottle, the sound crisp and oddly grounding. "To that, old man," he said, raising the bottle.

  Andres clinked his bottle against Victor’s.

  The first sip was bitter in Victor’s mouth, but it carried a warmth that spread through his chest—a fleeting comfort against the weight of the tomorrow that lay ahead. He downed the whole bottle in a single gulp and exhaled, his gaze distant.

  “You know, this reminds me of back then,” he mumbled. “When we were younger. Back in the era of… walking, warring legends."

  Andres smiled faintly, closing his eye. "We never did win in any of the drinking competitions against Enki.”

  “I still think he makes wormholes inside his throat so he can warp all the alcohol away.”

  “You have no proof.”

  “If you’d just let me cut his throat open once, I could prove it.”

  Andres laughed softly. "Those the times, I say—but no more.”

  "This siege feels like the end times too." Victor shrugged as well. "This whole thing will end tomorrow one way or the other. Either we get wiped out or we take out two of the Four Leviathans.”

  "Of course. If we kill both Rhizocapala and Eurypteria in Depth Five, we’ll break their spine. The Swarm won’t have the firepower or leadership to continue the siege.”

  "And if we don’t kill them?"

  "I don’t even want to think about what Rhizocapala’s plan is, dragging this siege out like this." Andres exhaled heavily, his voice hardening. "Let’s do this right, Victor. Defense Protocol ‘Black Storm’ be deactivated by tomorrow night.”

  "And then, when the leviathans back off and scurry on back to their hiding holes for several years without showing themselves, my lass can finally get her own vial of healing seawater from Depth Eight."

  "... Ambitious, isn’t she?"

  "She’s got the guts to see things through to the end.”

  "Because she’s your pupil, after all?”

  Victor tossed his empty bottle at the back of Andres’ head, chuckling as he turned and trudged out of the room. “I think you’ll be surprised at how she’ll fare against Eurypteria tomorrow.”

  Small updates to the progression system: Branch mutation selections now offer three options instead of two. All relevant chapters have been updated!

  Next chapter on Thursday!

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