


Gregor and the Prophecy of Nightfall

by SAI1



Category: Underland Chronicles
Genre: Adventure, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2014-01-18 10:51:12
Rating: T
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,927
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9849144/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5171086/SAI1
Summary: After the fall of New York City, Gregor and his friends are scraping out a rigorous living. Multiple threats from multiple directions force two messengers up for help—one that Gregor knows, and one he doesn't.





	1. Chapter 1: After the Fall

**Hey everybody, first fanfic, just keep that in mind while you *****review***** (hint, hint). **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Underland Chronicles, only select characters and the plot. I don't own Tasers, World Wars, Virginia, Mountain Dew, or Snickers, either. **

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**Part 1**

**Daylight**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**After the Fall**

Two boys about fifteen years old raced through the dangerous streets of what had once been New York City, chased by a group of about two dozen gang members wielding bats, knives, crowbars, and odd pieces of junk. Their eyes swept over rubble and junk as they searched for a hiding place.

Their mornings were always like this. Out here getting chased by random criminals. The city was far from the magnificent place it once was.

The first boy, weighed down by several large packages, spotted an abandoned shop and whipped into it without hesitation. The second boy, wearing an odd, large backpack, dodged a thrown knife and followed wordlessly. The gang ran past the store, then backtracked and entered the small building, kicking the door in.

The one with the backpack now reached into it, pulling out a metal tube with several hoses attached. He pointed the device at the pursuers, and threw a switch.

Nothing happened.

He cursed and banged the tube on a table, which, on second thought, he also flipped over and took cover behind as his comrade went into action with two swords, dropping the packs. "Never mind about that, Gregor," his voice resounded from behind the table. "I'll yell when I'm ready."

Gregor either dodged or knocked aside anything flying at him, and incapacitated five or six gangsters with ease, kicking them over to the other side of the smallish room and out of the way.

The boy behind the table yelled at Gregor that he was ready. Gregor promptly somersaulted out of the way as the boy activated his device again.

Which was a good thing, as the thing turned out to be a homemade flamethrower. If Gregor hadn't moved, he'd have joined the intended victims, which were rolling outside on the ground trying to put their flaming clothing out.

"Nice one, Josh," he congratulated, laughing.

Which he shouldn't have, because he registered that his friend had only taken out about half the remaining gangsters with his "fun surprise". The surviving people rushed him, but he decided to hold back a little so that Joshua could spring some more fun surprises. The first one swung at his left with a heavy baseball bat, but Gregor blocked it easily, spinning around with force and kicking him hard in the stomach, slashing another attacker in the chest as he went. The remaining six circled around him, but two fell from knives thrown at them by Joshua. Two more succumbed to hard left and right slashes to the neck and chest, and another found Gregor's boot in his face, as well as a metal chair in his back, which Joshua had thrown at him.

The last one swung a crowbar at Gregor, who dodged it easily. As he did so, though, the guy tripped him with a wraparound leg. As he reared up for another blow, he was suddenly hit in the back by two paintballs and a Taser. Gregor rolled out of the way as the guy fell forward, his head meeting the edge of a table with a crunch.

"Nice shot," said Gregor with a grin, picking up the guy's crowbar. "What's with the paintballs?" He collected some of the other gangsters' equipment.

Joshua smirked, retrieving the white ceramic knives he had thrown. "If I told you, you'd act like your dad was speaking. So don't ask, 'cause even if I explain, you won't listen." He looked around at the carnage. "I think that's enough for today. Let's go back to the hideout." Joshua had stuffed miscellaneous metal bits and the like into his huge backpack, which was handmade but had astoundingly good quality.

They picked up the packs and went out the door to walk the thirteen or so blocks to the building they used as a refuge. As their feet moved, so did Gregor's mind. As his eyes swept over the devastated, once great and famous buildings, he thought about the city.

About two years ago, a year after Gregor had come back from his last adventure, terrorists had attacked the city. They had annihilated many prominent buildings and banks, as well as destroying any access into or out of the city, but it mostly centered on Manhattan. The government had started to airlift citizens out, but the terrorists then proceeded to destroy all airfields and communication stations within the range of the helicopters. The government had to resort to dropping packages of clean food and water on the city for the remaining citizens to use. The water might have been a bit redundant, as the water mains were still mostly operational, but it wasn't like a random government official could just land on or through a building and ask if people needed a water heater replacement or better cable TV.

These packages were what he and Joshua had been looking for, and why they had competition with the gangsters. Gregor worried that the government would soon stop making food rain from the sky, though. He was a little intrigued why they had done it this long. The city was almost entirely disconnected to any news, so Gregor hoped New York was the only place where the terrorists had struck. For all he and his friends knew, there could be a World War XVII or whatever going on right now. However, if there was a war, the government could set up a secret base here and nobody would suspect or look for it, and they might drop food mostly centered on its area, but That might have something to do with it.

His parents had commenced their move to Virginia just before the anarchy had started, planning for Gregor, Lizzie and Boots to follow soon after, but the three siblings got trapped in the city before they could go. They did manage to get word to their parents, though, so he wasn't too worried about them, and vice versa.

The weight of the food and water Gregor was carrying dug into his mind again, as the packages were a bit sharp and the handles were uncomfortable, and the straps going over his shoulder strafed him somewhat.

Gregor didn't mind the pain, though, which had none of its normal negative effects on his performance. Now, pain only served to alert him to injuries, and did not take a toll on his mind. A messenger, not an oppressor. Helpful, not onerous.

"So, what'd we get?" inquired Joshua.

Gregor set the packs down. "Five pounds of chicken wings, three pounds of steak, four of lettuce, uh…" He dug around a bit. "Three six-packs of Mountain Dew, fifteen tomatoes, five loaves of bread…" He continued listing their findings.

Joshua nodded as Gregor picked them up again. "Wow. Good day today." He suddenly raised his head sharply. "Hey, have we raided that store yet?"

Gregor frowned. "We've been doing this for like two years. We—not to mention the gangs—missed this one? It's so close to the hideout! Either we've been really stupid, or they've been really stupid, or a really stupid citizen came back to reestablish their store in a city that's been full of danger and crime for years." Well, it was true that they didn't come this way often. They hadn't seen a pristine store for months, and their shelter was about a block away.

"Yeah, apparently. Let's check it out. I hope we can carry that much extra stuff." They jogged over and shattered the glass door, going inside. The shelves were still loaded with merchandise. Joshua saw some shotgun ammo. "Hey, this could help a bit." Gregor grabbed a couple of flashlights. They could always be useful. As could those nine-volts on the shelf to his left. The group was running a bit short on those. He heard an "Ooh! Lighter flints!" somewhere to his left. "Hmm, whoever owned this store must have been pretty stupid to store the lighters and propane on the same shelf."

It was an overcast day, meaning that the interior of the store was a bit dim. Echolocation helped a lot there. He caught sight of something about twenty feet from him. "Hey! Josh! I found some Snickers!" He sprinted over, grabbing some. Joshua clicked his way through the aisles and found the spot. Everyone in their group could use echolocation, but none of them knew where he'd learned it. When they asked, he'd just say, "I'll tell you later." He would, too. Gregor was planning to tell them, or at least Joshua, on his sixteenth birthday.

After about another twenty mad, frenzied seconds, Gregor said, "Okay, I think that's all we can carry. Let's come back here later." Joshua followed him through the aisle and out the door.

When they were almost there, two gangsters leaped out at them from an alley. Gregor knocked one out with a container of water, while the other ran off, his clothes on fire, as Gregor noticed a slight smirk on Joshua's face that said, "Don't mess with me."

With that taken care of, they turned a corner and saw their hideout coming into view.


	2. Chapter 2: Dawn of Realization

**Thanks to ****illusion95****, Guest, and**** The Toast Ninja**** for their quick and very appreciated reviews to the fiction, and especially to ****illusion95**** for following and ****The Toast Ninja**** for favoriting the story.**

**Disclaimer: I own (Not {Underland Chronicles}) and ({select characters, plot}). **

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**Chapter 2**

**Dawn of Realization**

"See you later, Hazard."

Luxa sighed as she and Hazard split up, Hazard going to his lessons, Luxa to a council meeting. She walked off, thinking about what she would need to debate at the meeting. It was concerning the cutters, that much she knew already, and apparently some scouts had noticed something "important." It was probably some cutter movements that supposedly would mean something. Usually, the meetings would just end in some argument and not help anyone.

She ran into Ripred after about a hundred yards. "Hello, Ripred," she greeted her bond. Ripred skipped pleasantries and went straight to the point. "You going to the meeting? Oh yes, you are. I know you are. I don't know everything, but I know several times more than you ever will."

"Thank you, O Omniscient One."

Ripred stopped and studied her for a moment. "That doesn't sound like you. Since when did you start saying that sort of stuff?"

"Since you started thinking you know everything, which you obviously do not." Luxa needed a topic change if she were to survive, or she would die hearing Ripred brag and wishing she were deaf. "How goes training?"

"You wouldn't believe how many idiots I have to deal with every day," he groaned as they entered a stairwell. "I divert most of their attention to Mareth, but they're still a pain. You know how they can be. You were once one of them. Still are, in fact. They—ah, _you_, cause me so much stress."

"Good. Just how well do you teach 'those idiots?'?"

"They're actually not that bad now. Some of them can even hit blood balls in the double digits. They tire me way too fast, though.

"The one guy couldn't hold a sword properly, and he kept getting blisters and complaining all day, so I sent him to the hospital so he could get his 'proper treatment.' He didn't even leave before he somehow managed to snap his sword, then he asked for a new one. Where was I supposed to get a new sword for the idiot? I told him he didn't need a new sword yet, 'cause he was going to the hospital anyway. Didn't he want to go there? And then when he got to the hospital, he still had his brand new sword on, and when they tried to take it off of him, he whacked the guy on the head with it. How does he do that?" Ripred groaned.

Luxa just rolled her eyes. "Where is Howard? He has not been around a lot. I believe he's been invited to many of these meetings, but he never comes."

"He's quite busy. Probably spending most of his time at the Fount. I hear they had quite an accident there."

"Really? What happened?"

"You didn't hear? You're _supposed_ to be the queen." He enhanced his point with a large head movement and random arm motions. " Anyway, you know the new building under construction?"

"The new smithy? Yes." The hallway forked, and they turned left.

"Yeah. They were moving a big block of stone, and it slipped and injured fifteen workers, plus an overseer. Howard's probably quite busy putting them back together." He paused. "See? I do know everything."

"Keep thinking that, Ripred, and it just might come true. Were there any deaths?"

"Not that I am aware of. Stellovet was particularly upset, for some reason." Luxa filed that away. Any information on Stellovet was helpful, whether to see if she was plotting something or to use as an insult the next time they met.

"Anyway, I think Howard's having quite a bit of fun over there. Blood, crushed legs, trauma. What could possibly be better?"

Turning a corner, they arrived at the doors to the council room. The pre-meeting bustle could be heard through them. Luxa pushed them in and entered, Ripred following after offering a last remark about the annoyance and irritation caused by these incessant meetings.

Everyone, mostly old humans standing around but accompanied by some gnawers and fliers, stopped what they were doing and looked up at them for a moment, then continued their discussions. Ripred made his way to his spot, and Luxa sat down in her seat just before the meeting officially began.

As the rest of the council sat down, the first speaker stood up. "Council of Regalia! As you know, we have stationed guards in the fifth and eight tunnels leading in the direction of the…"

Luxa promptly zoned out.

She was supposed to attend all of these meetings, but she didn't really participate. Being the queen, she was just supposed to know the state of the city and the council.

The council seemed to have taken a liking to Stellovet. She was gaining influence, which really wasn't a good thing. Now was not the time, though. If she challenged her, that would be against the Council; such conflict would not help her reputation. She would keep it to herself until she gained further ground.

Besides, the meeting at hand was focused on the pending war.

Said war wasn't really doing much so far. There might as well not even be a war yet. Currently, it was primarily a standoff between the tri-alliance—humans, fliers, and gnawers—and the cutters. Tensions were rising somewhat between the alliance and the hissers and twisters, but it was low enough not to cause any uneasiness. There might be a bit of fighting in the months ahead, but no one really expected anything. While the army was relatively inactive, they were still actively training, as were their allies' armies, so if any conflict did arise, Regalia would be ready.

Other than the tri-alliance, they were on friendly relations with the crawlers, though they probably wouldn't be much help. The city was also sending envoys to the nibblers to strengthen relations in the present situation.

A Fount representative interrupted her thoughts. "Three days ago, our scouts found that the cutters were beginning to advance through spinner territory. What could the implications be?"

"They're not fighting," a woman stated.

"A logical statement," said the man. "That doesn't sound like what cutters would do. Attacking a non-warmblood species? That doesn't seem right."

"So if they're not fighting, why are they there?" wondered a flier. "Unless…the spinners are giving them land? No, the spinners are already hard-pressed for land. So if they're not fighting, and they're not ceding land, and also probably not coming over for tea…" He trailed off uncertainly.

Luxa suddenly gasped. "_The cutters and spinners will launch an attack_…"

All eyes turned to her with mild alarm. "I—could they be _allying_?" she asked.

"Yes, yes," Ripred piped up from the corner. "That's quite plausible."

A flier spoke up after a short pause. "If they are joining forces, it would be the perfect time for them to attack. We may have a fight on our hands."

"Quick! Send messengers!" a middle-aged man agreed. Attendants promptly began running from the room.

One paused at the door. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Use your brain, smart one," said Ripred, then added under his breath, "Small as it may be."

After that stunning realization, reality began to fade again for Luxa as the meeting dragged on for a few more hours. Now, though, the subject was on preparing for possible invasion, concerning defenses and tactics. Why this would be helpful when all of the messengers had already left, Luxa didn't know, and she really didn't care much. The council was so reasonable.

As the meeting finally drew to a close after maybe another three hours, Vikus announced, "We have made good progress here. Our defenses have been inventoried and points of focus discussed. We will meet again at the fifth hour."

All of the people eventually got up, but most lounged about for quite a while, whispering and gossiping and conversing with other species. Luxa had no intention to stay near the council, and instead got up almost immediately and set out for the prophecy room. Her seat was on the opposite side of the main entrance, and the smaller one near her led onto a balcony, a simple dead end.

The prophecy room was a quiet place to reflect, and obviously to read prophecies. She reviewed and thought for about half an hour, pinching anything possible out of the prophecies she was reading. It was a place to relax her mind, but also to exercise it. Peaceful.

Luxa was roused only by a high-pitched, wavering wail in the distance. She jerked up, her attention riveted to the sound. She knew what it was.

The alarm.

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**Sorry, but I can give no guarantee that updates will be as fast as this. Homework is so incessant. It's not gonna kill me, but my teachers could at least let up a little. **

**Maybe every other weekend. Ugh, school. I hate the feeling when you wake up on a weekday.**


	3. Chapter 3: Fights, Camera, Action

**Surprise! Double posting. I actually had this typed up already, but I wanted to wait because I knew you guys were going to **_**review**_**…**_**right**_**? While we're talking, thanks to [certain unnamed person who left no name] for reviewing.**

**Certain unnamed person who left no name: Yeah. The reason will come later.**

**24 views, but 4 **_**re**_**views. Hmm…not bad, but not excellent. **

**I'll refer to the new terms in this chapter as "two-hander," "flame sword," and maybe "shorter sword." **

**Disclaimer: SC is female. I am not female. SC owns TUC. I do not own TUC. Therefore I am not SC. **

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**Chapter 3**

**Fights, Camera, Action**

Gregor and his friends' hideout was a large building, which they found to be strong and relatively stable. Most of their shelter was spread over the first floor and basement. There was a large walled space outside for Joshua to vent his semi-craziness.

About six or seven years ago, Joshua had read a book on "mad science." He had been intrigued by it. Now, Gregor thought, it might as well be his biography. Joshua was a little like his dad and Lizzie, he thought, and perhaps even Boots. He was smart and intelligent, but he was a little on the wild side. Gregor grinned, thinking of the "fun surprises" his friend had in his backpack. Plus, his contraptions weren't the only lethal weapons in his arsenal. Joshua was an amazing fighter, but he claimed his creations were more fun.

Gregor had met Joshua a few months after he came back from the War of Time. Joshua was perhaps two weeks younger than him, and they looked to be around the same height. Gregor's hair was short, but Joshua's black hair was around ear level.

As they approached the building, the two of them began to approach the field of traps that they had set up. Gregor was the best fighter out of their whole group, but Joshua was a lot wilier and faster thinking. So Joshua had designed the traps, and Gregor had helped set them up. Gregor had been dazzled by what Joshua could come up with.

They carefully avoided the diligently hidden traps (which could be identified by minute variations in the appearance of the ground), and arrived at the heavily fortified entrance. They were greeted by silence. There was a password-operated garage door opener mounted on the doorframe. Joshua flipped it open and punched in a code.

He greeted a small microphone in the crack between the door and the wall, which the door opener had just activated. "Hello? Anyone home?"

The sarcastic reply came from Joshua's twelve-year-old sister, Josie. "No, I died, that's why I'm talking to you right now."

"Whatever, just let us in, 'cause it's me, as you can see," he requested. A very subtle security camera peered at them through the window. "Hey! Hello? Anyone there?"

They heard a giggle, probably from Boots on the couch. Maybe she was holding Josie down. She did that a lot. Gregor heard a faint, amused "Get off, you!" Yep. Josie probably _was_ stuck. That happened a lot.

Joshua rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. "Open sesame? Open barley? Rice?"

The door clicked open, allowing them passage.

They walked down the hall, and, as his feet moved, Gregor looked forward to crashing on a random couch.

It was about twelve-fifteen, near lunchtime, and Gregor's stomach wasn't doing too well. He hadn't eaten much this morning, hadn't been hungry when he woke up. But now he regretted it, as hunger and mild exhaustion tore at him.

After reaching another door, pushing a doorbell, and being greeted by a crossbow wielder, they entered the main living space of their hideout. Gregor immediately poured himself several glasses of water to soothe his parched throat. He then brushed a lot of dirt off of himself. Gregor wasn't sure how it got there, but he would have to eat later and dirt wasn't a very good appetizer.

He sank onto a couch, feeling the cool softness wash over and through him. Joseph, who was Boots' age and was also Joshua and Josie's little brother, and Boots, crashed on top of Gregor. "Hey, watch where you sit, you two. You're lucky I didn't eat much this morning." He relaxed a few more minutes, but was somewhat impeded by the weight of two surprisingly-heavy seven-year-olds.

Eventually, he needed to get up. "Hey, can you get off of me? I kind of have to go to the bathroom…"

"Sure, Gregor," they said in unison, not moving. Boots giggled.

"If you don't move, I'll help you," he offered.

They promptly moved off of him, and he got up and walked off as they went and got a drink.

He walked off to the right toward the nearest bathroom. It was past their sleeping quarters, and Josie and Lizzie were playing Monopoly in Lizzie and Boots' bedroom. "Hey, Gregor," they greeted as he walked past. "Good morning," Lizzie added.

"Good evening, Sire," Gregor joked as he passed by.

"Have you seen my—"

"Liz, I'm sorta busy."

"Doing what?" Lizzie asked innocently.

"I think you know."

"What?" Lizzie insisted.

"Fine." Gregor gave in. "The bathroom."

"Ah…" Lizzie widened her eyes in mock surprise.

Gregor turned a corner and entered the bathroom. It was large and somewhat cluttered with odd pipes and beakers, courtesy of Joshua. Random scraps of paper covered in notes were all over the counter. Odd contraptions littered the shelves. It wasn't half as bad as Joshua's workshop, though. That was simply a maze.

* * *

At about one o'clock, they ate lunch. "Okay, Lizzie, what did you ask earlier?"

"Oh, yeah. Have you seen my puzzle book?" said Lizzie. "I think it vanished somewhere over there." She gestured to the couch.

"By one of your magic tricks?"

"No."

"I think I saw it in that drawer by the bookshelf." Gregor dug into some chicken and salad. "What'd you guys do in training?"

"Drills," said Boots and Joseph glumly. "Can we do something else now?"

"Sure. Do you want to spar with each other?"

"Yeah!" said Joseph.

"No," said Boots.

"Fine. Joe, you can spar with Lizzie, and Boots, you can do archery with Josie?" Gregor looked at Josie for confirmation. She nodded.

"Yes!" Boots and Joseph did fist pumps. It was amusing, and also mildly unsettling, how they did everything in unison.

After about ten more minutes, Gregor got up and went off to the field, a large area where some buildings had collapsed by Joshua's workshop area, to set up the archery. He lugged the targets over from their armory, set up firing lines, picked their favorite bows out, and grabbed about a dozen handfuls of arrows. The targets would look like porcupines by the time the girls started retrieving the projectiles.

Gregor didn't know where Joshua was, but he had probably eaten lunch at his working/testing place. Joshua would spend noon and part of the afternoon building and testing various things. He had mentioned a surprise today. Gregor jogged over to the heavy solid door to the small, thick-walled building. "In case of explosions," he had said. There were also numerous panels that opened for ventilation, in case of unhealthy fumes and the like.

"Hey! Josh!" He called. "Training's gonna start in a couple minutes!" He took a loud _clang_ and a few curses as "Got it. I'll be there." He also heard a roaring and crackling. Probably forging or melting something. Maybe both. Gregor went back to the field.

Not everyone had agreed to training at first. Few of Gregor's group wanted to fight, but about six months after the city started going downhill, the state of the area, particularly in Manhattan, had deteriorated enough for everyone to have realized the benefits of training.

About fifteen minutes later, the four younger ones exited through the back door, followed by Larry and Angelina. By that time, Gregor had set up about a dozen dummies—made from spare packaging. "All right, let's warm up," Gregor directed. "Agility runs first." The group lined up, holding in some groans, and began to sprint through a small labyrinth of lines, facing the same direction the whole time and sidestepping or backpedaling when necessary. After the entire group had gone three times, they did it again facing a different direction, then again, and again. When they finally finished, the entire group was breathing heavily and took a drink.

"Alright, now suicides." The group didn't bother holding in their groans this time, but still followed Gregor to four parallel lines with a spacing of about twenty feet. They spread out on the first line, preparing to begin. "Go," Gregor commanded. The group ran to the second line, then back to the first. They ran to the third, then back. To the last line, and back again. Then they sprinted past the fourth line and slowed down, returning to the last line. They spread out on it, then repeated the run in the opposite direction. After three round trips, everybody was acting as if they had ran a mile, which wasn't terribly bad by now, but definitely not good.

Next, the group did common exercises, like lunges and high knees, and finally stretched, starting with the feet and calves, followed by the thighs, hips, and midsection, then the back, shoulders, and neck, and lastly down their arms to their wrists.

"Alright! Josie and Boots are doing archery, like I promised. Joe is sparring with Lizzie, and Larry, you can whack dummies with Angelina for now. Angelina, you might want to help with the archery after a while," directed Gregor.

Everyone headed over to the armory. They all watched as the door slid upward at a medium pace. The place contained some of their most valuable stuff, and the door, which was presently reaching the end of its journey, was probably its strongest defense. It was one-piece, and instead of moving up and then turning to move horizontally like a garage door, it just traveled straight upward into a slot in the ceiling.

Other than that, the place did look like a garage or toolshed. Tools and weapons sat on metal racks or hung in rows on the wall.

Larry picked up his favorite weapon, a custom halberd. There were blades on both sides, just that the characteristic hook of a halberd extended out of the blade on one side. The blades were odd, crescent-shaped and supported by two short arms, like on tiger-hook swords, which helped with parrying. After checking on its condition and running a sharpening stone (or perhaps a slipstone) across it a few times, he was instantly back out and dismembering dummies.

Angelina pulled two daggers and hacked away. She was also the group's best shot with a bow, when Gregor wasn't using his rager senses. His rager side had advanced dramatically during the three years since his return, seeing daily use, to the point that it had started entering his non-violent actions, albeit infrequently.

The girls strung their bows and started pounding the targets dozens of yards downrange. Lizzie was a bit short of breath after a few minutes of sparring, but had improved a lot since the city collapsed. Gregor watched as she exchanged swings and parries with Joseph, blades glimmering in the diffuse light. He had improved nicely, and was well matched with the older girl.

After about fifteen minutes, Angelina had gone over to help coach Josie and Boots with the archery. Gregor looked at his watch, scavenged from a store in pristine condition a year ago. Joshua was taking a while, which wasn't unusual but did indicate that he must have been a bit busy. He finally showed up about half an hour after warm-up started. "What took so long?" he inquired.

"Ah, just a little surprise. Wait a moment while I warm up," he said, fast- jogging to the agility run. Gregor wasn't surprised, as Joshua pulled tricks often.

Gregor jogged over to Boots, Josie and Angelina, who was refining their technique. "Move your feet an inch or two closer together," she instructed Boots. "Straighten your back a bit. There you go." The young girl let fly, giving no indication that she had done so, her stance unwavering except for the slight movement of her fingers. Her arrow hit the outer edge of the second ring (from the middle) about fifty yards away. "Nice shot," congratulated Gregor. Josie bent her bow fluidly and shot next after Angelina made her angle her rear foot a little. She hit inside the second ring, on the other side of the target—the left—from Boots' shot, and lower. Angelina hit the edge of the bull's-eye.

"Good, but I can do better", said Gregor. He took up a bow, loaded the arrow on, then swiftly, deftly drew it back. He reached out with echolocation, concentrating his senses onto the target. The rager sensation hummed inside him, fine-tuning the movements of his body. He saw nothing but himself, the bow, and the target. The thing he needed to hit, to attack. He felt it, heard it, smelled it, and aimed for it. He knew the target, knew the arrow, its length, weight, every little detail in the fletching. All was still for a moment, then Gregor let the arrow go.

The implement flew through the air, cutting the atmosphere as it flew past, guided by the smooth featherlike fletching on its way to its destination. It was a rod, a line, a streak through the sky as it flew and flew and flew and its tip penetrated the surface, the shaft following, then lodging firm as the arrow buried itself in the target.

Right in the center of the bull's-eye.

"Nice one," congratulated Josie. There was a deep, consistent hole in every one of their targets.

"Hey, guys. Thought I'd join the party," said Joshua, jogging up. "What're you all staring at? Did Gregor shoot again or something?" He noticed the arrow buried in the target. "Oh, yeah, he did," he answered himself. "Wanna see me shoot? Don't expect an arrow, though." He pulled out a device from his back pocket. Looking through the sight on top of it, he steadied it before pushing a button.

Instantly, a bright flash burst deep inside the thing, exploding into existence as it grew instantaneously and shot out. Invisible from speed, a piece of metal flew across the field to the target, warping through the air, white-hot from air resistance. A plume of glowing gas followed it like smoke from a gunshot. The air took a beating from the speed of the projectile, letting out a sharp _crack_, shocking the five's faces. In the distance, gang members heard it as a thunderclap. The shard went straight through the target and out the other side, carving a deep hole.

And also setting the target on fire.

They all groaned. Joshua sprinted across and put it out by slamming his backpack on it multiple times. Gregor didn't know if the backpack's contents should have exploded, judging by their flammability. Whatever. "Let's train now," said Joshua, coming back over.

"Okay," agreed Gregor. "Larry! Get over here. C'mon, surely you can run faster than that!"

Larry sprinted across the field, careful not to trip on his long weapon. "Yeah? What'd you call me for?" He shifted the halberd to his other hand.

"Alright. Here's the deal. Angelina! You might want to listen in!" Gregor was something like their coach, and he wasn't afraid to chew them out a bit. He continued as the archer pulled away from the younger girls. "We'll be playing Capture the Flag. Larry and I will be on a team against Angelina and Josh. Here's your flag, and this is our flag." He gave a flag, a miniature orange foot-tall one, to the other pair and took out a blue flag for himself and Larry. "Choose a spot for your flag and plant it. Josh, use _ordinary_ weapons. The boundary will be that line running down there." The other group scrambled to set up, while Gregor and Larry jogged off in the opposite direction.

They played Capture the Flag not by tagging, but with weapons. Their version didn't have a jail, which didn't really matter. If you did enough to have gotten someone in jail, it would be pretty extreme anyway, so a jail was kind of redundant.

Larry thought aloud as he went. "If we place the flag in the open, it'll allow more maneuverability for defense, but it'll be easy to spot and take. If we put it up against a wall, it would be harder to find, and the wall would allow us to trap each other against it. But if we put it in a corner or in an alley, then it'll be the hardest to get to and escape with." They accordingly planted the flag in a nook in the far corner.

Gregor dropped boundary markers around and through the playing area, which was a portion of the field with a lot of debris and obstacles. While he did so, he formulated a very simple plan. When he got back to his own side, he discussed it with Larry. "Defend until they are worn down, then go when they are somewhat incapacitated."

Larry nodded. "I've seen worse plans. Let's do this."

Gregor pulled out a stopwatch. "I'll see how long it takes for one side to win. If we're at a stalemate after maybe twenty minutes, I'll call the younger ones in." He shouted over to the other side. "ARE YOU READY OVER THERE?"

He heard a faint "yes."

"BEGIN!"

Angelina crept up toward the border quickly and quietly. Gregor sensed her coming, and shot forward to intercept like a fierce dart. As she approached the boundary, she pulled out her two daggers, ready for confrontation. Gregor also approached, hidden behind a corner. Angelina stopped suddenly, then clicked softly, narrowing her eyes. Gregor immediately froze against the wall to avoid detection, and Angelina simply tilted her head and shrugged imperceptibly, going onward and around a large hunk of metal. It took sensitive ears to distinguish a person's heat signature, especially if they were wearing armor.

Gregor drew his sword. It wasn't much compared to Sandwich's, but it was one of his favorites. He had used two swords this morning, but was using one now, keeping the other sheathed. He was moving very slowly now.

He leaped out from behind the corner in a surprise attack. Angelina's eyes widened as his blade came down, but she managed to block his first strike, staggering backward a bit. Gregor immediately followed up, though, slashing in all directions. Wherever his sword went, though, he found one of her blades there to intercept. He pressed on the offensive, however, bouncing off pieces of junk, and after maybe a minute or two of their blades flashing at incredible speed, he sensed her wearing out a bit. Soon he would be able to defeat her and move on to the—

Whoa! What was that? An extremely powerful blade shot upward between the two of theirs, which had just been locked. They instantly separated with a shriek, sparks actually flying from the third blade. Gregor spun to the right, facing his assailant.

Joshua wielded his six-foot sword, with large parrying hooks near the base of the blade. Below the hooks was a section of the blade that was smooth and unsharpened. Below that, an elaborate foot-wide guard, with hooks and spikes coming off of it and spikes at the end, presented opportunities to snare Gregor's blade. The handle was a solid foot long, with a spiked pommel at the end. Joshua's _Zweihänder_, as it was called, was based off of the swords of the same name wielded by mercenaries in medieval times. The name meant "two-hander," which was appropriate, as the sword weighed about five pounds, _requiring_ two hands to wield. The blade jarred Gregor as it came around with another strike. Joshua was a lot stronger than he looked.

He noticed that Joshua had another on his back, but with a wavy, undulating blade. A _flammenschwert_—a flame sword. At his waist were two smaller swords, about two or three feet and with odd guards, curved sharply in the horizontal plane. They looked as if there had been metal "S"s lying flat on a table and Joshua had impaled them by stabbing downward. The pommels on these smaller swords were widened and had three spikes coming out the back end. They were _katzbalgers_.

Joshua's blade moved impossibly fast for its size, forcing Gregor to speed up. A good workout. In the midst of heated combat, Angelina's dagger hacked off a shred on the back of his shirt. He backed off, in the opposite direction of the two. He grinned as he noticed Larry sneaking up behind, and knocking a knife out of Angelina's hand. "Ah! Hey!"

Larry snickered as the two turned around and Gregor kicked Joshua's legs from under him. As Joshua went down, he drew one of his short swords with his left hand, which Gregor only had time to deflect slightly before the large sword came down, knocking him over to join his friend—er, his opponent—on the ground. Gregor turned his head, checking on Larry's progress as Joshua landed facing downward on his left elbow. It was interesting, with Larry's halberd against Angelina's far shorter daggers. As Angelina drew in close, past his halberd, he caught a glimpse of Larry kneeing her in the stomach, throwing her back out of range while she retrieved her dropped dagger.

Gregor turned back to where Joshua was. Or, rather, had been—there was just empty air there now. Gregor turned halfway around before catching a hard kick to the ribs and landing flat on his back.

When he picked himself up, his senses were alert, ready for Joshua's next strike. Joshua, however, apparently hadn't planned on hanging around when his objective was elsewhere. Gregor caught a glimpse of Joshua running deeper into his territory. "Aw, come on!" He sprinted after him.

Joshua's gaze was sweeping around, alert and aware, as well as looking for any indication of the flag's location. Gregor cursed as he veered off in the direction of his target, having caught sight of it. As he picked it up, Gregor more or less cut off the way out, cornering him. Joshua grabbed the blue flag, turned, ducked Gregor's swing, and shot forward. Gregor had to put his knee out to the side to block him, but he didn't have any time to brace himself before Joshua barreled straight into it. Gregor stumbled, as did his opponent, who was still trapped. Joshua, however, recovered before he did. He knocked Gregor over again with a punch to the face and shot off once more. Gregor followed suit, yelling.

As they approached the border, Larry was still locked in combat with Angelina, their weapons emitting clangs and rasps. Larry was trying to keep her back, while she was trying to get past his weapon head. Once Larry noticed what Joshua was doing, though, he abandoned his fight and flew to intercept. Neither Joshua nor Gregor noticed, though, so it was a surprise when Larry slid in from the side, straight into Joshua's legs. Joshua was able to stay on his feet, but then blundered into the shaft of Larry's halberd. Gregor fell on top of him, unintentionally stunning him long enough for Larry to grab the flag and run off to return it to the proper spot. Angelina ran after him.

Gregor ran off into orange territory after unclipping Joshua's sword belt to buy himself some time. When he was about halfway to their flag, he spotted Joshua streaming after him. But it would be fine. Gregor would be able to get to the flag and be quite far on his way back before Joshua caught him.

Joshua knew this, too, so it wasn't long before Gregor heard pieces of debris flying at him from behind. He had to dodge them now, which slowed him down, but throwing them would have slowed Joshua down more than Gregor. He dashed in, grabbed the flag, threw himself against the wall to dodge a hunk of metal, and flew back in the direction of his own side.

While the effective speed of the projectiles had been reduced before by Gregor running in the opposite direction, now he and Joshua were converging, making Gregor dodge more violently and without warning. This situation wasn't very stable, and Gregor would soon either get hit, trip, or get caught by Joshua.

Or, as it turned out, all three.

Gregor saw Angelina approaching the border as well, but from his own side. She was carrying his flag, and Gregor put on an extra burst of speed to get there before her, or at least stop her from winning. As she neared the border, Larry lashed out from behind with his halberd, tripping her. For some reason, Gregor's feet chose that exact moment to stumble over some rough ground. He took a spill right at the boundary, colliding with Angelina on his way to the ground, then caught a piece of debris in the back of his head, which Joshua, now pursuing from behind, had thrown. The impact of the object knocked him out before he hit the ground.

When he came to, he could tell he hadn't been out very long, a minute at most. Joshua and Larry were laughing, while Angelina was sprawled on the ground. "Real smooth, Gregor," Larry gasped. They hadn't been worried, as their group got minor injuries a lot.

Angelina rolled her eyes at him while commenting on his amusing plight. Gregor grinned. He supposed it was pretty funny.

Larry stretched. "So, who won?"

Angelina got up. "I don't know. Who cares? Let's just keep playing."

"Wait," said Gregor. "Let's bring the younger ones in. Girls and Lizzie! Come play Capture the Flag. Joe, you can come too."

They ran over. "'Girls and Lizzie'? Really, Gregor?" His sister rolled her eyes at him.

"Ha, yeah. Don't roll your eyes. It's rude," said Gregor. Lizzie rolled her eyes. Gregor rolled his eyes, too.

Alright! Let's get started," he said. "I'm with Larry, and Angelina is on Joshua's team. The boundaries are here, across there, down by those two buildings, and across the field this way. You guys can pick your teams." The two who had been sparring went with Gregor and Larry, leaving the archery girls to be on the other team.

Gregor stationed Lizzie and Joseph on the border and hidden near the flag, respectively, while he would be on offense with Larry as backup. He couldn't see the other team's younger members, so he assumed they were either waiting in ambush or sneaking about. He didn't sense anything unusual in his "radar map," either, so he tiptoed across the border and advanced against the wall. Darting between piles of debris, he moved forward now and again as his target got closer. Very close. He moved forward into an alley and turned a corner, and walked straight into a sword, held sideways for him to trip over.

As he fell, he caught a glimpse of Josie's eyes sharpening. Her sword flashed, and Gregor almost tripped again and would have landed on a piece of metal if he hadn't caught himself.

Josie's sword was interesting. It looked ordinary except for the handle, which was curved like an umbrella's, but only ninety degrees. This allowed her to twist and swing it around in otherwise impossible moves, and her fighting style took full advantage of that. She fought the way some people play chess: making seemingly random moves before taking one final stroke and trapping you unexpectedly.

He lunged past her, turned another corner and almost ran straight into the flag. He caught himself again, grabbed it, turned, and ran into Josie again. Blocking a stroke with an across-the leg-swipe, he rained a few more blows before he slipped out of range, whipped around the final corner and sprinted back toward freedom.

Sounds of pursuit came from behind, then Gregor caught a glimpse of Larry flying in from the side to intercept Josie, knocking her over, then Boots came and landed on Larry, toppling him to the ground, then Joshua appeared and held Gregor down, and Angelina added herself to the pile. They were all laughing at this point, after which they all got up in no rush before dispersing and fighting again, running here and there, the excitement flowing far into the afternoon.

* * *

**As I stated earlier, this double posting would have been impossible if not for a reduced amount of homework and the majority of the chapter being typed up beforehand. **

**Sorry to disappoint, but Gregor won't actually hear from the Underland from the Underland until the next day. Bear with me. There **_**will**_** be action, just not the Gregor-in-the-Underland type yet.**


	4. Chapter 4: First Warning

**Yes! Another update in. [Fist pump] [Fist pump] [Fist pump] [Fist pump x10] [Pump overloads] [Water pipe explodes] Anyway, Sorry about the wait. **

**Thanks to ****ParadoxalPaladin**** and ****The Toast Ninja**** (once again) for reviewing, and I wish I could give credit to two guest reviews—but then again, guest reviews are just like that. Maybe you should log in.**

**I don't think this one's that good. See my note at the bottom later.**

**Disclaimer: Do I have to? Really, this is stupid, why do I have to do it, then again it's also fun and creative and I'm not sure I want to do it but anyway you know what I should say here and I won't bother and I think I'm ranting and in a moment I'll stop but for now I'll just keep on talking and saying that I don't own anything recognizable… Return to top.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**First Warning**

Lessons had never been boring. Anything but. Hazard was now fluent in human, crawler, hisser, twister, spinner, cutter, lobster, and butterfly languages, working on digger, and impossibly acing flier, gnawer, nibbler, stinger, and many others. It was hard to be sure whether he spoke right in certain languages, whose sounds were too high-pitched for him to hear. He thought of it as being like a deaf conductor leading a concert, but that was nothing compared with trying to hear those sounds when he was spoken to. Somehow he could tell, even without really hearing it, what sounds or squeaks other species were making. It was hard to explain, even if he was speaking in flie-gnaw-ibbler-ish. But of course the fun part of all this was being able to insult people without them knowing what he was saying. (Or possibly even hearing it.)

Body language and tone kind of gave that away, so people always knew it was an insult, but the specifics were unknown to them: like whether he was recalling the time when they accidentally picked up a hot frying pan on the side where there wasn't a handle, and subsequently splattered hot food all over a council member's face; or if he was simply calling them stupid idiots that didn't know their head from their rear. Regardless, it was always fun.

Of course, now that lessons had ended and it was almost lunchtime, and he wasn't going to be taught any more fun stuff, he'd have to find something else to do. Maybe he'd go find Luxa. (Which was what tended to happen most of the time.) Wait, wasn't council meeting was still going on? He was sure she hated those meetings as much as he did. How in the world did she put up with them? Actually, she might not put up with them. (Funny mental images of Luxa attacking council members.) In any case, the meeting was still dragging on and on, and probably boring everyone except maybe those old fat guys that made it a point to argue whenever they had the chance.

It was still going on, wasn't it?

Eh, he'd find out. Getting up from where he leaned against the wall, Hazard started out in the direction of the council room, which was two floors below and halfway across the castle from where he stood near the eighteenth-floor bathroom.

Actually, the chamber was quite high, so he might be standing on its ceiling. It depended on the width of the room.

The staircase he chose to descend was a minor addition, infrequently used, but it was quite useful to him, since it was a shortcut to where his lessons took place. Now, however, he was travelling in the opposite direction of its usual use, down as opposed to up, and headed not to bed but to a boring old assembly where the people in attendance should be worrying about the how the floor was holding up under their weight, not sitting around blabbering about political whatever-it-is.

When he arrived, the place just contained a few old men gossiping. They looked up when he opened the door, paused for a moment while they sized each other up, gave him a "what-are-you-doing-here/who are you/I'm an idiot" look, and then decided gossiping was more appealing after all.

He shut the door.

So the thing had already broken up. Meetings usually lasted longer than this, and the only possible reasons this could have ended early would be that either something disastrous had happened here, or that they had actually gotten something done. Judging from the guys sitting around and exchanging stories about their fantastical efforts in battles that took place long ago (battles which probably didn't exist), he strongly doubted it was the former.

And judging from the short amount of time taken to reach a (probably partial) conclusion, there would most likely be another meeting in the near future.

Then again, why was that relevant? What had he initially set out to do? Hmm, how about looking for his adopted sister?

Lunch would be soon, as noted earlier, but he still had maybe twenty minutes before someone called him for it, then another ten before he actually sat down for the meal.

Luxa was probably either flying somewhere or reading prophecies, which she did a lot lately. She'd be harder to track down while flying. He could ask a security guy, maybe, but that was more or less pointless, as he probably wouldn't find her before lunch. He decided to look in the prophecy room first.

With a stronger sense of purpose now, he entered another stairwell, promising to himself that he would find her.

* * *

When the alarm sounded, Luxa had immediately shot up and sprinted to the nearest balcony, about a hundred feet down the hall. Nothing had seemed unusual at first, except that the city's sound had changed, grinding slowly from everyday bustle to a grim, wary attitude. But the uneasy silence didn't last forever.

It did, however, continue for a long, uncomfortable moment. She stood there, waiting for so long that she began to think that it was a false alarm, until a dense anticipation filled the air as every living being in Regalia realized that something was different now. It was subtle at first, and took a while to pinpoint.

A tiny vibration filled the air, from the heights of the High Hall all the way down to the arena, from the open streets to the most secure bunker. Its all-pervading property was because it emanated not from the air, but the ground.

But it wasn't an earthquake.

In fact, an earthquake might have been better. As Luxa watched the city for any hint as to what the alarm was for, a wave of frantic whispers spread through Regalia as the tremor increased. Slowly, an audible sound emerged.

The air movement had now risen to a menacing roar; the shaking could be felt through the ground. A particular tunnel, a larger one leading off to the Dead Land, began emitting debris as a huge wave of dust slowly rolled from its mouth and over Regalia, and the light level dropped as the cloud became denser. The sound grew louder, and louder, and louder still. Out of the corner of her eye, Luxa noticed Hazard run onto the balcony.

The roar was well defined now, earsplitting, combined with cracks and crunches of rock from the tunnel. A wave of red, like a flood—with black mixed in—rolled into the fields, flowing over the stone, cascading over the rock, building visibly in size and color.

Just like that, Luxa watched as an endlessly huge army advanced into the Regalian cavern.

* * *

Mareth was having no difficulties. Still his troops were holding strong, and he was even able to skim a few off and send them around the cavern to deal with other troubles. His segment of front line alone was easily holding, and he himself shredded through cutters rapidly, unhindered by his prosthetic leg. He could spare soldiers to act as messengers, or help them reinforce a focal point, and if there was nothing else he could do with them he could of course push forward on the offense a little.

Fliers swooped in toward him, taking orders quickly with no time for any acknowledgement but a brief nod, or a wave. His quick mind was guiding his reactions to cutter attacks at the same time as keeping inventory of the conditions and sending and receiving flier messages. Whenever he wasn't busy with the cutters or giving orders, he was yelling at his troops, throwing encouragement and rearranging their positions, and more or less shouting at them until his words didn't enter their ears, as if this were training.

Cutters flew at him. He hacked, kicked, knocked them over with a shield or the hilt of a sword, or even severed their mandibles and threw them at other cutters. Right now, he grunted as he flipped one around, using it to slam others away.

Mareth stepped back and briefly surveyed the battle. Cutters were strewn everywhere, with only a few humans dotted here and there. He looked in front of him, where cutter bodies lay courtesy of his recent efforts. He spared a glance at his troops, fighting hard and strong.

The battle was going well. He hoped it would stay that way.

The army had already been ready, courtesy of the warnings it had been given earlier. As Luxa dismembered yet another spinner, reaching from the height of Aurora's back, she marveled at how the army's individuals acted as one, all forming the same plan simultaneously, working united to cut off the invading army, and often assisting one another or providing cover for ground soldiers' quick charges and retreats. The army, especially the flying portion, looked not unlike a school of fish swimming in the murky, dusty air.

Most had tried to stop her from fighting, as she was valuable to Regalia, and more easily kidnapped outside than in the palace, but of course she had gone out despite their protests.

The front line stretched in a rough arc around the tunnel mouth, while fliers circled over the enemy, diving now and then to pick off cutters, or grazing the wall to scrape off spinners. Her view, though, was hazy because of the dust. Sharp rasps filled the air, scratches and clicks and scraping sounds, clangs and squelches reaching Luxa's ears. A web was forming, climbing up the side of the cavern and out toward the ceiling. Spinners were building upward with the intention of creating a web over Regalia, which would provide a way to get around the walls. Figuratively, of course.

Truth be told, Luxa didn't know which side would succeed. The invading army of cutters and spinners was constantly advancing from the tunnel. Despite the massive numbers continuously approaching, the front line was moving sluggishly, most of the invaders being cut down, as it took many cutters to drop a single soldier, much less a trained squad. The center of the area between Regalia's outer wall and the cavern wall was piled with bodies, webs, blood, spinner juice, and all kinds of unrecognizable junk.

Aurora flipped, executing an inverted turn that both evaded a particularly dense knot of leaping cutters and at the same time gave her a clear shot at some spinners, who were trying to net them with loops of silk. Both of them were already tired, and it was a good thing Hazard had persuaded them to eat lunch before going out to the battle. Her arms felt sour, her sides ached from the effort of balancing during the acrobatic stunts, her head pounded, her back was bruised and bloodied, and several deep gashed had appeared on her legs. Aurora probably wasn't much better off—a rip in her wing was turning her golden fur red, and much of her underside was covered in blood.

They flipped out of the way of more web, rolled, and Luxa brought down three cutters in one swipe as Aurora ripped apart four more from the other side. They quickly climbed out of the way as a large wave of cutters streamed past them, then turned toward the nearby wall, Aurora taking out spinners while Luxa did her best to weaken or destroy portions of the web. With two claw slices, three spinners fell away; with left and right slashes, webs snapped and sagged.

A helping factor for the Regalians was the tunnel itself. On the way in, the sheer force of the invading army had brought down a large chunk of the tunnel roof, some distance back from the opening to Regalia. It had instantly crushed some of the forward portion of the army and also effectively narrowed the tunnel leading in, slowing the arrival of fresh cutters and spinners. That was a valuable asset, but it would probably be temporary, as cutters' sheer corrosive and destructive abilities coupled with the spinners' webs would easily remove and/or destroy the obstruction before long, and probably widen the tunnel beyond what it had been originally.

Around this time, it actually began to happen, the roar increasing and cracks sounding as the force of the invasion redoubled. The soldiers, fighting valiantly before, now faltered slightly as the torrent sped up and increased in volume.

Luxa and Aurora increased their efforts, wheeling, diving, slicing, ripping, even kicking or whacking—all in the desperate effort to delay the invaders. They were more like one being now, having flown together for so long. They didn't need to ask each other about where to attack, or warn each other of an incoming strike. They simply knew. Luxa was even aware of how Aurora's injuries would affect her flight patterns, and adjusted accordingly.

A single queen and her bond, no matter how skilled, had no chance of taking on an entire army, but they could at least make a difference. She strained to do as much of that as she could, even as Aurora did everything within her ability as well. Both of them were impeded by their respective injuries, and both of them were relying of the support of the other.

They were both working overkill, harder than their abilities had ever been tested before. Luxa's jaw was clamped shut hard, breaths coming hard and fast, and Aurora was grimacing in the effort to combat cutters, fly, and support Luxa simultaneously, all through blinding physical pain.

The resistance of the Regalian Army slowly crumbled as the relentless invasion continued forward. The front line advanced toward the city, slowly at first, then gaining momentum. Soldiers fell faster, and the smell of iron in the air became thicker. The crops were ripped to shreds beneath the claws of the oncoming army. The number of attackers pouring in was so great, in fact, that some of the cutters weren't even moving in the direction of their target, crowded so closely that they were forced to spread out and flank Regalia. Farther back, where there wasn't room to spread out, some of the invaders were actually being trampled beneath their fellows.

The cutters were the bulk of the army on the ground, with small numbers of spinners mixed in. Most of the spinners were on the cavern wall, building the massive web that could easily allow a large number of enemies into Regalia, completely disregarding the walls, and providing an easy access route into the palace through the High Hall. They still had quite a long way to build, though, and many Regalian fliers were working at slowing the spinners down.

The cutters were almost at the wall, and when they reached it, there was no question that spinners would quickly scale it, and the army would pour into Regalia, a completely unacceptable prospect. With that kind of force, a breach could let huge numbers of attackers in, easily destroying many buildings and citizens, as well as supplies. Such a breach may not mean the end of Regalia, but it would definitely do a very large amount of damage.

By now, Luxa was getting dizzy from exertion and mild oxygen deprivation. Only sheer willpower and determination kept her and Aurora going, even as their combined kill count soared to incredible heights.

As the invasion force reached the cliff face at the bottom of the wall, spinner webs began materializing, true to word, while cutters climbed up. Led by spinners, they fought their way past torrents of arrows and reached the top of the wall, only faltering at torrents of hot oil coming down.

Of course, the oil wasn't as effective alone as she knew it could be. Soon, enormous fires were blazing at the face of the wall, thick black smoke was climbing into the air, and cutters were flailing in the intense heat. The invasion stalled for a moment, but oil could only burn for so long before the cutters were on the move again.

A crack launched into the air, followed by a rumble and roar, and a section of the city wall seemed to descend into the dirt, draining like sand into a hole. Spinner webs tore, cutters were crushed and people fell screaming from the walk at the top as the wall collapsed almost vertically downward. Soon after, the cutters continued their advance forward into the outer part of the city.

This part of the city only contained small buildings, which were first surrounded by cutters, then cracked and collapsed, one by one, as if they were piles of sand being flooded by the tide.

Just then, the invading army seemed to hesitate. An uneasy pause flew into the air as new sounds filled the air. Different sounds, still like claws flying across stone, but this new sound was from different claws, more alive, less like machines. Shouts and growls filled the air as a huge portion of the invaders were shoved to the right, and a mass of gray poured into the cavern from the side. Their allies had finally arrived.

The army paused, then, in unison, began draining back toward the tunnel it had come from, losing more and more members from the combined forces of attacks and trampling as every single cutter tried to squeeze back into the tunnel at just about the same time.

Cutters melting away, the Regalian army thoroughly incapacitated… The thought struck Luxa that a future battle would be very one-sided, as the city's defenses had taken a major hit. Cutters and humans and remains of the harvest were strewn all about the cavern.

Luxa's vision dimmed. She would probably pass out soon. Was the battle over? If it was, she could take a rest, maybe sleep the rest of the day…or maybe just a few hours while she recovered enough to continue acting as queen. If she was seriously injured (she suspected she wasn't), then who would take over her position? Ripred? That would be no good.

The edges of her vision were turning black. She knew she had just a few seconds left. The queen dimly registered Aurora landing, then being carted off to the hospital. They rolled down the halls, nurses swarming furiously around. One final, familiar face poked into her field of view, but she couldn't recognize it now. Everything was blurry; the nurses faded and all sounds muffled. The pain was gone now. The battle was over. She knew that now, but all in a haze, all in a haze-world. Luxa's vision faded to black, and reality disintegrated.

And that was that.

* * *

**So, as I was saying, the reviews haven't been coming as quickly as they could be, and I'm not really feeling motivated that often… so here's the plan. Find something wrong with my story. It's awkward here, a bit abrupt there, someone's out of character, the wall doesn't have a walk at the top. Whatever. Give me at least five things that I can improve on. Please. Sorry if I'm being a bit pushy, but it **_**is**_** my first fiction, actually—okay, I'll admit it—my first story whatsoever, and I think you guys can be a lot more responsive than you are now.**

**By the way, don't assume someone else is gonna do it. That mistake can happen when no one calls 911 in a burning building.**


	5. Chapter 5: Depth of Thought

**Sorry about the late update. Horribly busy for the past couple weeks.**

**Thanks to ****The Toast Ninja**** for doing what no one else does. Come on, it's been like twenty days. One review. What is this?! Maybe if you review more, I'll update faster.**

**I don't think this one's that good. Then again, I never do.**

**Disclaimer: Bug bad.**

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**Chapter 5**

**Depth of Thought**

Gregor was amazed.

Lizzie was the ultimate magician. Everyone in the building was gathered around her. She could make things appear, disappear, change, penetrate each other, and much more, and right now she was stretching her arm.

She was pulling her wrist out from her sleeve, and her arm appeared to lengthen and grow right before their eyes. There was no possible way it could be happening. Her arm didn't unbend, shoulder didn't move, her sleeve was stationary. It was just her arm, growing and extending as the rest of them grinned, amazed and amused, trying and failing to find out how she did it.

Lizzie's magic acts were unpredictable. She could bring out a new object from nowhere, or extract it from what she had just been using. There was no pattern to it. She always found a way to do something and catch them off guard.

Lizzie dropped her arm back to her side, and it now looked perfectly normal. She dramatically produced a piece of card which hadn't been there two seconds ago. They all moved in to study it.

It was very strange, as if Lizzie had cut flaps on opposite sides and folded them up. They joined each other edge to edge, but there was no seam. No tape, no overlap, no offset, nothing. Gregor reached out and touched the supposed joint, but it felt as if it didn't exist.

Then all of a sudden it was gone. Lizzie picked up a box that had been lying on the table, then proceeded to reach into it. Out came two loops of cloth, one red, one green.

"Oh, _that's_ where my old clothes went!" Josie realized. "How'd you get those?"

She smiled. "Magic."

"Ohh. I see."

She took the red one, held it in front of her with one side in each hand, and ripped it around the circumference, so that it should have split into two narrower loops. But instead, it just became a giant loop.

Lizzie grinned mischievously before proceeding to tear the green loop in the same fashion. It split into two loops that were linked _through_ each other. She took one of the loops and ripped it, and it doubled in size like the first.

Gregor looked around the circle of faces to see their reactions. Larry and Angelina were clearly astounded, and Boots was clamoring for dessert (Joseph was controlling himself). But Joshua and Josie looked thoughtful, with a knowing glint in their eyes.

They took a break from magic, and Boots got her dessert. Afterward, Lizzie got into one of her extremely funny acts, cautioning her victim (assistant) to keep her from stealing anything.

She struck up a casual conversation with Josie about secure places to put valuable items. They discussed the safest locations, Josie showed off hidden pockets in her sweatshirt, conferred on the best places for certain items, and so on and so forth. Josie was quite suspicious and wary throughout, although it was well masked and difficult to notice it you weren't looking for it.

Not more than forty seconds into the conversation, Lizzie stopped her and showed what she had already snatched. Josie's watch was on her wrist, her hair was no longer in a ponytail, two pieces of gum were missing from her pocket, and Lizzie had discovered a few two-dollar bills that Josie had been carrying.

* * *

When Luxa came to, she was mostly covered in bandages. Heavy white fabric was wrapped around her arms, head, and probably her back, too, as well as one knee, but she wasn't sure because of a pile of blankets that had been dumped over her. The young queen was sore and stiff from lying in one position for hours, but she felt fine. She probably had a few stitches somewhere, but nothing too severe.

The curtain in the doorway rustled and Howard appeared, carrying a tray of food. He quietly walked over to her. "Ah, I see you have awakened."

"Yes," she agreed simply.

"How do you feel? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"I am fine." Where had Howard come from? She hadn't seen him in months. "Why are you here, not at the Fount?"

Howard set the tray down. "I was called here while you were out fighting. Of course Regalia would need many more doctors than the Fount after a major battle such as this."

Luxa nodded. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Well, you passed out just after Aurora brought you back in. She is not faring too badly herself. A day or two and you should both be quite fine."

Luxa remembered seeing someone looking down at her just before she lost consciousness. Looking back on it, she was now quite sure it had been Howard, although her vision had been rather blurry and indistinct.

"Anyway," he continued, "it is mid-evening now, so you were probably out for around five hours."

Five hours. Her injuries must not have been too bad. Perhaps it had just been pain, oxygen deprivation, and a little blood loss.

"I think I'd just like a drink now," she decided. Howard nodded and walked out.

When he came back, he tried to hold the glass to her lips, but she shook him off and did it herself.

After she had slaked her thirst, Luxa asked, "How is the situation now? With the army and such?"

"More than half of the army is injured, most of that number being ground soldiers. I hear Mareth got a promotion to general." Howard straightened her blankets.

"Did he? I thought he retired from active service."

"Yes, because of his leg. But now that he is quite dexterous with his prosthetic one, he has returned to service. He will still instruct the recruits, though."

Luxa shifted slightly. "I see. How fares Aurora, then?"

"Aurora is not too bad. She took quite a beating out there, but is surprisingly resilient. She did manage to fly you back." He paused. "You should not have fought."

"It is what I should do. A queen is for the people, and should—"

"A queen is far too valuable to risk in open combat. At one point, you nearly died. Think of what the people would have to do. What the council would have to do. Nerissa could never rule, Vikus may not be able to take the strain, York cannot take care of both Regalia and the Fount, and Stellovet will be one easy step from the throne if I become king. You cannot fight like this. It is too dangerous; I will not allow it."

Luxa shifted restlessly. "Howard, the people will rest easy considering that even their queen will fight to defend them."

"No, they will not, considering that their queen puts herself at risk—puts all of them at risk—so that she can fight like a soldier." Howard inspected some stitches in her leg.

Luxa tried again. "What kind of a queen will cower in the palace while her people are dying in battle?"

"A living one, " retorted Howard.

Luxa knew that she would fight again. She must fight. Couldn't he see? She had to be a strong figure to her people.

She also knew that she would not be able to change his mind. If she tried to go and fight again (the opportunity would undoubtedly present itself again), she'd probably be dragged off to the dungeon or something. There would be other ways to get him and the council to let her fight again. That would not be hard.

But she needed to stop the argument. She'd appear to comply for now, to get Howard's mind on a different track.

"Alright, then," she said quietly. "I will not fight."

Howard nodded. "Then I will leave you some time alone."

He performed some last inspections, then proceeded quietly out the door, drawing the curtain shut behind him.

* * *

The ceiling was dark. Years ago it had been filled with the flickering and movement of shadows and lights from the buildings around. But it was empty and still now.

The quiet enveloped everything, only broken by soft breathing and the occasional snort or rustle from various places, and a very faint humming from the distant kitchen, probably from the refrigerator.

The bed was warm, the atmosphere relaxing. But Gregor couldn't sleep. Nighttime was when his mind was busiest. Memories resurfacing, thoughts and feelings swirling, ideas appearing and vanishing, muscles twitching and relaxing.

Years of action had made his muscles invulnerable to soreness from the long days, days of fighting and training and working, but the work that day had been more than most. Training, especially, had been more taxing than on most days. Mostly because it had taken longer than usual.

Gregor looked over at Joshua, sprawled in his bed on the other side of the room. He had been the main reason training had taken so long today. Countless clashes from his six-foot sword had jarred his arm. Even so, Joshua was a good friend and a strong ally.

Gregor thought of someone else who had been a good friend. His thoughts worked in his mind, digging up memories long buried. Memories of a land far below, a strange land that few even knew about. Memories of a beautiful city, with dusky light and carvings and inscriptions filling every surface but that of a tall, circular structure. A circular structure that housed friends, long gone, down and away from his life. Many friends. Few friends. One friend.

Pale, translucent skin, defined cheekbones, a long scar down the side of the face, metallic blond hair, violet eyes. A shade of violet that he could never forget. A shade of violet that could never be imitated. A shade violet that he knew, that he remembered, that he longed to see again, that he knew he would see again. He knew it, there was no doubt, he had convinced himself he would see it again. The one thing that kept him sane, kept him going.

When he had come back three years ago, he had nearly gone insane during the first week. Pain, blinding pain filled him and he was oblivious to the world, oblivious to anything and everything. He couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't do anything, was nearly lost before he found the one thought that could save him. The one thought that could calm him and bring the world back. One thought.

They would meet again.

Reality zoomed back into perspective. The dark, silent room, the sweat on his forehead, the rapid beating of his heart, his ragged breathing, the rager sensation humming deep inside.

He leaned back into the bed, slowing his breathing, suppressing his thoughts for a moment as he recovered.

His breathing slowed. His muscles relaxed. His heartbeat recovered. His eyes finally closed.

His thoughts started up again. Slowly now. Calmly.

There was someone else who had been a good friend. Someone he would not get to see again. Ever. A cold sensation plunged through him, like a powerful ocean wave hitting him in the face. An image came to mind, an image of uniform blackness, black eyes, black nose, black mouth set in his black fur. An enormous flier, strong, stubborn, rebellious, quiet, depressed.

And silenced now. Forever.

Flashes of pearlescent white. Claws, blood, ripping, piercing, falling, bleeding, dying. Nightmares, endless nightmares before and after he appeared and disappeared.

Gone now.

Gone, never to return, deceased, lost, vanished, disappeared. Dissolved, done, ended, finished. Left, removed, departed, retired. No more. Nevermore.

All different ways of saying it. He was gone. He would never come back.

His grandma, too, would never return. He would never see her again. The hospital flashed through his mind. Ambulance. Doctors. Funeral. Grave. Gravestone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

He had to cherish what was left. Not everything could stay forever.

As he slipped into the world of dreams, he was reminded that what he did have left was a lot, but much of it was away from him at the moment. Away in a world of darkness and enormous creatures and torches and swords. He had killed the warrior there, and the warrior had never left. Part of him was left there, and he realized that he would never be complete until he went back.

Returning. Going back.

They would meet again.

* * *

Two figures stood before Luxa in the prophecy room, conferring in low voices. One was an enormous and imposing gnawer, the other a lithe and obscure human. Both figures were related to Luxa, in one way or another. Both shared a common personality, they had both once been banished, and they were both incredibly deadly.

But they had Luxa's trust. She knew their real motives now, and that was why she knew they would do what she asked of them.

Tomorrow at daybreak, they would set out on a journey. A quest. With no promise of success, they would leave Regalia, taking their fighting skills with them. If the enemy attacked while they were gone, the Regalians might not be able to hold the city.

But if they succeeded, a valuable player could appear. Perhaps more than one. It was worth the risk. But for now, nothing could be done but praying that another attack would not come tomorrow.

Their plans were rather indistinct, with no information to go on. In fact, what they were using now was a last resort, and they hadn't really expected anything to come of it.

The only guidance for planning came from the prophecies. One prophecy. The Underlanders had only a very vague understanding of the layout of the Overland, almost none at all, so maps were useless. The prophecy room presented the only possible help other than their own minds.

Prophecy after prophecy was written on the walls. Countless words filled the entire room. They had only found one that was applicable in this situation, and even that didn't have much to say.

That was one reason that they were in the prophecy room. The other was that the operation should be kept secret. Since few people came to this room, it was a good meeting place.

Only a select few people would be informed, only those who were directly involved in the military. Not even the council would know.

In fact, one of the figures standing before her had only recently returned from unjust banishment. If the council discovered her choice, they would be most displeased.

But that was not something to worry about now. What she hoped for, what the city hoped for, was what the mission tomorrow would aim for.

Talking in hushed voices behind closed doors, all they could do now was hope for success.


	6. Chapter 6: The Call

**Almost a month right there. Long story short, I've had a major rollback in computer access for the past few weeks, but I think that's lifted somewhat.**

**Thanks to Regina, ****The Toast Ninja****, zap (who doesn't count because I know who he is), Erik, Michaelangelo, and ****Vagrant Rohitt****.**

**Just as a heads-up, I actually have plans for a prequel. Not sure when I'm going to start it, though.**

**Kinda shorter than some others, but I had to end it on a certain note. Normally I'd just say that the chapters get worse the more I write, but to avoid tiring you guys, I'll just say "enjoy."**

**Disclaimer: For the love of Sandwich, bloody use your head, boy! ****[1]**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**The Call**

Early sunlight streamed through the window. Joshua's eyes refused to open as the light pushed at his eyelids. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes, aching them alert and awake.

He sat up in bed, taking in everything he could as he reached over to the wall and grabbed a light jacket from where it conveniently hung. Pulling it on in the faint chill, he stretched his stiff shoulder.

His senses told him that the temperature indoors was around sixty degrees Fahrenheit. The drizzle that had been falling last evening had intensified into heavy rain in the early hours, and the current chill coupled with the previous day's precipitation and cloud cover indicated that an occluded front had probably rolled through.

He rolled out of bed, glancing at the clock on the wall by the window. It was just past seven in the morning.

Since they'd used up a lot of rooms for storage and such, he shared a room with Gregor. Likewise, Josie and Joshua shared a room, and so did Lizzie and Boots. Gregor was still asleep. Joshua decided not to disturb him.

He'd slept in his clothes, and so didn't waste his time changing. Of course, they weren't the clothes he'd been wearing for the whole day yesterday. Those were covered in dust and had a few new rips that he'd have to fix later.

After a trip to the bathroom, he was about to start making breakfast when he noticed a light in Lizzie and Boots' bedroom. He glanced in and saw the two of them playing a board game.

He didn't comment. They'd probably woken up early and been unable to fall asleep again. It wasn't unusual.

Breakfast was quick and quiet. Everyone dug in, no one having much to say. They were all still rather groggy. They hadn't really warmed up yet, so to speak, though for Lizzie, it was a more literal case. She looked a bit cold, but didn't seem bothered too much by it. Life here had hardened all of them to some degree.

Afterwards, though, the day really started. Joshua went to his workshop to tinker around a bit before going out for food with Gregor.

His project was coming along well. Actually, it was just about finished; he was just messing around with fine decorative details. Such details were not what he usually added, but then again, this project was not a normal one.

For one thing, it was a rough secret. Only he knew about it. He hadn't tried to hide it, and it would be easily seen if someone entered his workspace, but it was just that no one really bothered with his projects, whatever they happened to be. The things he made usually didn't affect anyone but himself or his enemies. Lizzie and Josie occasionally dropped by, but they probably hadn't noticed his current project amongst the jumble of random parts and raw materials that were lying all over the tables and shelves.

When he was working, Boots and Joseph liked to come and watch him assemble pieces of metal or cut them to shape, which often involved a lot of bright sparking displays. The fire and great clouds of steam that appeared while he was working often amused them, though they didn't know their purpose.

Another unusual aspect of his project was that it was simplistic. There were no hoses or switches on it, and very few or no moving parts. But it was complicated nonetheless, in a different way than usual.

It had taken him quite a while to get to this point. Most of his projects only took a few days, or perhaps a couple of weeks at the most, but it had taken him nearly half a year to get to the almost-finished point he was at now. The main reasons it had taken so long were materials and difficult construction.

It had taken him months to gather materials for this project, and refining and combining them also took much time. This project needed many obscure supplies that were hard to find anywhere, much less in a long-abandoned, disconnected, and looted city.

Furthermore, he had to work with these materials, combining and modifying them until he pinched out the right properties.

He'd set out on this project with a very interesting and specific goal in mind. He'd had a vision of an exotic and useful weapon, one that would have some very unique properties. To create this, he'd had to research for long hours on metalworking, folding and forging.

It looked extraordinary, too. Elaborate, iridescent ripples washed over its surface, and the entire thing shimmered and glowed. And when he tested it, even more than that.

It was almost done now. Only a final few adjustments remained.

He fired up the furnace and went back to work.

* * *

What a small field of view. There were wider-field binoculars, but this small telescope, mounted on a stand, gave the magnification needed to spot activity far off.

It was mounted high up, near the top of the building. Which meant a long staircase up and down. There were a lot of resounding footsteps before Gregor appeared.

"All clear?" he inquired, slightly breathless.

Joshua stepped away from the telescope. "I don't see anything. You want a look?"

Gregor peered in. "Okay… nothing there…" He swiveled it around. "…how about…hmm…nothing much in the primary field…" He kept muttering to himself in this fashion until he apparently spotted something in the corner of his view, because he then suddenly jerked the telescope around.

"Wait, wait, wait…whoa! What—who is doing that?" He paused, then suddenly—yet slowly—looked up and scrutinized the area with his own eyes. "What was that?"

"What? What is it?" Joshua was worried. Was someone attacking or something?

Gregor frowned. "I…there was this gangster standing at the base of a wall, and there were shadows at the top. There was, like, a rope or something that someone in the shadows lowered toward the gangster, and it had a little bladed hook at the end. It lowered in front of the guy, but he didn't notice. Then it jerked upward, right into his throat."

"Okay, that sounds unusual. But why'd it startle you so much?"

"Right after the gangster fell, it looked like whoever killed him jumped down from the wall. He was dressed completely in black. Just a black blur.

"But here's the strange part. After the guy jumped down, a huge gray mass came out from the shadows and came down after him."

Joshua was pacing, his hands the sides of his head. "And?"

"That's all I saw," said Gregor, starting to squint back into the telescope.

As he scanned around, Joshua picked up the binoculars. "Ah! Yeah, I see them."

"Where?"

"At the base of that building, the one with the McDonald's sign poking out. But they're moving really fast, darting between shadowy areas. I think they're easier to see in the binoculars. Just glimpses here and there. You can only really tell by the flashes of movement."

Gregor picked up another pair of binoculars. "Yep, there…and there…they're coming this way." He put down the binoculars with a thoughtful look. "I think…"

"What? Do you know what they're doing? Do you know who they are? Do you know what the gray thing is?" Joshua was pacing quickly now, agitated.

"I—I think. They might be—but why would they…"

"What? What?" The figures were coming closer now.

Gregor paused. After a short moment, he said, "Let's go downstairs."

"Oh-kay," said Joshua slowly, raising his eyebrows and following cautiously and suspiciously.

Stairs, stairs, stairs, more stairs. And more stairs. Why were there so many?

Thoughts along those lines occupied his mind for a short while before he shifted back to the strange observation.

Gregor's reaction had been odd, almost as if he knew what it meant and yet didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Maybe he didn't even want to.

When they arrived back downstairs, he noticed Gregor going straight to Lizzie on the couch.

He instantly pretended to go about his business, but kept his full attention trained on the two of them. Gregor whispered in Lizzie's ear a bit, after which she sat back and stared into space, he mouth half open. Slowly, as he watched, the slight gape transformed into an ear-to-ear grin.

Gregor said a few more words, then stood up. His voice sounded as if he was shrugging, but he wasn't. Joshua imagined him saying, "Okay then." But what he said was, "Let's go outside now."

This time was different than usual. "You guys can come too."

Everyone in the building followed the two of them out the door, down the hall, around a few corners, and to the other door, the one that led outside. As it opened, he saw two figures standing outside in the abandoned street.

Otherwise, it was abandoned. An empty feeling blew through the street with the wind, as if there was nothing in the world but the door, the empty asphalt, the dirt field in front of the door layered with traps, and the two lone beings across from the group.

One was a humanoid figure swathed in thick black, with glimmering metal glinting from within the dark folds.

The other was an enormous gray rat, standing on its hind limbs and reaching eight or nine feet tall.

On its shadowed face was a harsh, red-white X of scars.

* * *

**I bet all of you could see that coming. Oh, well, it was inevitable anyway. Next chapter, we'll get into the new character.**

**[1]****–Ripred in **_**Gregor and the Cutter Lair**_** by ****Collier World****, chapter 12: "11: The Cutter Lair"**


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