"What is this?!" An angry bellow raged through the Council headquarters of Troit, startling just about everyone within earshot. "Who would even dare?!"

One of the Elders, a large, intimidating man who was past his prime, curled his fingers around a piece of paper. It crumpled beneath his grip while his entire frame shook with barely contained rage. He glared at the soldier who currently stood before him.

"Where did you get this?" he snarled, face flushed and lips pulled back into a rare show of ferocity.

The poor soldier had gone white as a sheet, practically quaking in his boots. "K-Kratos, sir," he meekly stammered. "I- I'm sorry, I -"

"Speak, soldier!"

"Sir!" The soldier snapped to attention, gaze fixing on some point at the far wall. Although he managed to hold his place before the terrifying Elder, it wasn't hard to notice his nervous tension. Swallowing once, the soldier managed to speak in a steady voice. "A flyer gave it to me and asked me to pass it on to you."

"A flyer?" Kratos stilled, fixing all his attention on the soldier. He paused, seeming to compose himself, erasing all signs of his previous anger from his expression. When he spoke next, his tone was calm, even. "Who?"

The soldier's eyes widened, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale. The change in Kratos manner only served to terrify him further. "He wore his helmet, sir. I – I couldn't see his face. But – but," Sensing imminent danger, the soldier was quick to add, "He was a River flyer, sir!"

A long, heavy moment passed, during which Kratos stared at the soldier before him. The poor soldier couldn't keep from squirming, as if fire ants were crawling up his legs. Finally, Kratos narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"What did the flyer tell you, soldier? Word for word."

The soldier closed his eyes briefly, visibly pulling himself together. "He said, 'A message for Kratos. Go now.' That's all, sir."

"I see," Kratos' jaw tightened. "Do you know what it said?"

"No sir," the soldier jerked his head up, clearly startled by the question. "It was sealed! I didn't – I wouldn't –"

"Never mind," the Elder interrupted. He gave a wave of his hand. "Go."

The soldier wasted no time in fleeing the tent. Once he was gone, Kratos opened his fist and stared at the crumpled paper within. There only had been a few lines written in neatly printed block letters, but it was more than enough to serve its purpose.

"What is it?" A large man ambled out of the adjoining room. Even though he had a massive white beard, his barrel chest and wide shoulders lent him an intimidating presence. He fixed steely gray eyes upon Kratos, observing for a moment before his bushy white brows knit together. "You look ... upset, Kratos."

"Zelus," Kratos said, teeth all but grinding together. "They have taken her."

"Who?" Zelus touched his beard, stroking it in an almost thoughtful manner.

Wordlessly, Kratos held out the crumpled paper. His fellow Elder took it, smoothed it as best as he could, and read the blocky handwriting.

Hello Kratos,

Or should I say, Erik Wilhas? No matter. That isn't important. What is, however, is that your granddaughter has been liberated from the miserable cage in which you have placed her. I have given dear Ava a new home, a proper haven in which she is safe and quite out of your reach.

I am certain you will require assurance of this message's validity, so I welcome you to visit the Inn. Ava's father will have much to tell you, I am sure.

But be sure to tread carefully, Kratos. Ava's life depends on it.

Mr. Black

Once he finished reading the message, Zelus remained silent for a long moment. His bushy brows rose, then lowered into a deep furrow. He stroked his beard. Then he said, "Oh dear."

Kratos snatched the paper back, his gaze full of fury even though he managed to keep his expression mostly composed. "Who-" he began, but he never got to complete his sentence.

Another soldier burst into the room. "A – a message for Helios!"

Both Elders stared at the soldier, causing him to snap a nervous salute. "Sirs?"

"Give it here," Zelus said finally, holding out his hand.

"No need," a gravelly voice interrupted. A hanging curtain partition was pushed aside, and a frail, skeletal figure with pale blue eyes stepped through. "I am here."

"Helios," Zelus murmured in greeting.

Helios merely nodded in acknowledgement, before he stepped forward. He moved like the old man he was, slow and unsteady, shoulders hunched forward as if he could no longer stand straight. Upon receiving the small brown envelope from the soldier, Helios hefted it, testing its weight.

"Hm," he muttered. "Must be the maps I requested."

"You only ordered those yesterday. Seems a bit soon, doesn't it?" Kratos asked, his voice soft. He exchanged a glance with Zelus. The air between them felt heavy with foreboding.

Helios just harrumphed and carefully opened the sealed envelope. Tipping it on its side, he coaxed a small stack of printed photographs into his other hand. They were neatly tied together with twine as if it were a gift. The ends of the twine were even fastened into a bow.

Frowning, Helios pulled at the twine, unraveling the bow. The other Elders moved to stand at his shoulders so they could see what the pictures were of. The first was of a lovely painting of a half-naked woman lying on the beach. Such art was rare, much of it having been lost or destroyed in the war.

"Oh?" Zelus made a sound of appreciation, but Helios' frown deepened. He lifted the picture, revealing the next beneath it.

A woven tapestry was spread out upon a dry dirt floor. The colors were faded, but the patterns were intricate and beautifully arranged. It was the kind of decoration that one would hang on the wall, and much like the painting, was a rare find.

The picture trembled as Helios lifted it. "This is..." he broke off in a gasp as the third picture was revealed. Then the fourth. And fifth. And more. Helios flipped through the pictures rapidly, the color draining from his face.

All were of rare items of art – paintings, sculptures, even a couple of heavy, illustrated books with curling pages and fraying covers. Each was displayed upon a dirty floor, with poor lighting and what looked like cavern wall behind it.

And finally, the last picture was of the same dirty ground that all the items had been displayed upon. Rather than an object in this one, there were words drawn in large block letters upon the dirt. They spelled out a short message.

Helios,

Found these priceless treasures. Thought of you.

Mr. Black

Helios trembled, expression growing slack. For a moment, he just stared. Then he exhaled sharply. "These are mine! How did – who -?!"

Kratos spun and addressed the soldier who had delivered the envelope. "Who gave this to you?"

"A – a Mountain flyer, sir." The soldier didn't budge from his spot, even though he nervously looked from one Elder to another.

"Another flyer?" Zelus muttered. "What is going on?"

That was when a third soldier burst into the headquarters. He bore a small package, this one wrapped neatly in brown paper. He'd barely mentioned that it was for Elder Pontos when Kratos snatched it from him and tore open the paper.

All three Elders crowded around as a small box was revealed. Upon opening, they discovered a peculiarly shaped key. A note accompanied it.

Pontos,

You are a very naughty boy. Wonder what your fellows would think if they knew what you were hiding away? Don't worry. Your secret is 'safe' with me. As a gesture of goodwill, I've returned your lost key. But don't worry – if you lose it again, I've got a copy.

Mr. Black

"Get Pontos now," Kratos snapped. Wordlessly, Helios turned and left. He moved with speed and urgency this time, and the former hunch to his posture was no longer there.

"Who is this Mr Black?" Zelus asked. His gaze was serious. "Surely he couldn't have –"

"Message, sir!" A fourth soldier came in. He spotted Zelus and brightened. "It's for you, sir."

Zelus stilled. Then he muttered a curse. "Let's see it."

His message was a letter much like Kratos'. It more or less informed him that his son, Andre Chovik, was now a guest under Mr. Black's care.

"Who is this Mr. Black?" Kratos asked, cold as the arctic snow even though the fires of hell raged within his gaze. "I will tear his head from his shoulders myself!"

Zelus stared at the paper within his hands, silent and still as a grave. His son, taken. Even though Andre was little more than a spoiled, arrogant brat, he was still family. His blood, his heir, his hope.

A heavy silence filled the room, save for the sound of Kratos' teeth grinding.

For the first time in a long time, the Elders of Troit felt an inkling of fear.

~*RW*~

Jett never thought he'd set foot in this place again, but here he was, standing on the crumbling pavement of a broken street.

Empty buildings flanked this street like tombstones, jutting upwards out of a silent, eerie graveyard. A two story storefront to his left had cracks spiderwebbing across its side, its roof partially caved in. Every window had been shattered.

A cool wind caressed his face, drying the dampness from the nape of his neck. He shivered, unconsciously folding his arms tightly against his chest. Jett looked around solemnly. A rising tide of emotions swelled and pushed against the numb blanket of nothing that he clung to.

Why was he here?

He didn't want to be here.

Too much had happened in this city, things that had birthed terrible memories and overwhelming emotions and just being here, standing on this broken road in this broken place, was like standing at the bottom of the ocean while trying to keep his head above the water's surface.

"Hey." An arm curled around his shoulders and gently tugged him sideways. Jett stumbled against Raven and looked up to see concerned violet eyes gazing down at him. "It'll be okay. It might not look like it from here, but this place has changed a lot."

Changed? Jett didn't believe it. They stood in the middle of a crumbling graveyard. A city that had been wrecked and abandoned, just as it had been when Jett had been here last. The only difference was that before, there had been survivors. And now... there was not a single soul in sight.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, for Raven chuckled. "Come. Let me show you."

And with that, the flyer gave Jett's shoulders a quick squeeze before he pulled away. He strode down the street confidently as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Sighing softly, Jett followed. Raven never was one to just explain things plainly. A fact that annoyed Jett to no end.

"Are you just going to leave the truck there?" Moxie called out from behind Jett. He glanced back.

Raven had driven them into the city for quite a ways before pulling to the side of a street in a seemingly random location. It wasn't like he couldn't have gone further, for the streets he chose to travel were minimally damaged compared to others. Now the truck sat silently, a hulking, pristine vehicle in a place where it did not belong. The keys still dangled from the ignition.

"Yep," Raven called back without even turning his head.

"But won't someone find it?"

"Probably." Raven was completely unconcerned.

Though Jett was wondering the same thing Moxie was, he didn't bother voicing them. There was no point. Wordlessly, he trudged after the flyer and after a moment, he heard Moxie's footsteps behind him.

Raven led the way down a side street, before hopping a chainlink fence and heading down a narrow alley. This area was almost untouched by the warzone, but looters had already come and gone. Broken glass and trash littered the place wherever one looked. Hardly a window remained unsmashed, and more than a few doors had been blasted inwards.

At the end of the alley was another tall fence, creating a dead end. Before Jett could even begin to wonder, Raven turned towards the building on the left, where a plain metal door sat crookedly on its hinges.

The flyer pushed the door open. It swung inwards with just the faintest of whispers. The lack of noise struck Jett as odd – for a door that was clearly damaged, wouldn't it at least groan or squeal as metal scraped against the doorframe or hinges?

Raven stepped inside the door, disappearing into the dark interior. Jett shared a uncertain glance with Moxie before he followed.

"Close the door behind you," Raven said once Moxie came inside. She did so after a moment's hesitation, pulling the door closed. It did so silently, trapping them in darkness.

Not even a second later, a pale yellow glow abruptly flared into life. Raven held an activated glowstick, the eerie color just enough to allow them to see their surroundings. The corner of the flyer's mouth tugged upwards. "This way," he said.

He walked down a short hallway, turned, and then descended a flight of stairs into the basement. Boxes and shelves filled almost every available space, creating a claustrophobic atmosphere. There was no visible path, yet Raven somehow slipped past shelves and stepped over boxes as if he knew exactly where to go.

He stopped before one of the far walls. "Here we go. It's a bit snug, but safe enough." Then he stuck the glowstick between his teeth and knelt on the floor. Jett stared, then his jaw nearly dropped as Raven started crawling. The flyer crawled past a box and right into a hole in the wall.

"The heck is going on?" Moxie whispered.

Jett sighed. "I have no idea." But since Raven had taken the only source of light with him, there wasn't much of a choice left. Jett had no desire to stand around in a dark creepy basement. There was probably spiders everywhere. And mice. And cockroaches.

Gulping, he dropped to all fours and hastily scrambled after Raven. The hole on the wall was larger than it first had appeared, and there was actually lots of room for him to comfortably crawl. A tunnel stretched before him. And just ahead, faint yellow light bobbed.

Jett headed towards it, his hands and knees pressing into cool, gritty dirt. Why he was crawling through a tunnel, he had no idea. Nor did he have a clue as to where it led.

"Where are we going?" he half whispered. His voice sounded muffled in the tunnel.

"You'll see," Raven was quite cheerful. "Now stay close, this place is a bit of a maze."

Moxie muttered as she followed them. "Oh great."

The tunnel forked off into several different branches, during which Raven chose one of the branches without hesitation. They crawled for what felt like hours before the tunnel spilled them out into a much larger concrete service tunnel. Pipes ran along the one side, taking up a fair amount of space, but there was still enough room for them to properly stand.

Jett couldn't help but groan as he straightened. His poor knees and back complained at the abuse they'd just suffered.

"The underground?" Moxie exclaimed. "You've taken us beneath the city!"

There was enough light for the smirk on Raven's face to be visible. "Very good," he said. "You're observation skills are very impressive."

Moxie scowled.

Jett touched the wall of the tunnel, feeling the rough concrete beneath his fingertips. His chest ached, and he swallowed nervously. He remembered seeing Tarrod haul his friend out of these very tunnels. It felt like it had happened only yesterday or was it a decade ago? It was getting harder to tell the passage of time.

"Didn't most of these tunnels collapse?" he asked in a small voice.

Raven's voice was soft when he answered. "Yes. But we've made... alternate routes. You'll see."

"We?" Jett asked. He didn't understand. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his head. It itched and throbbed at the same time.

Raven didn't answer. He started walking down the wide tunnel. With a sigh, Jett trudged along after. Where else was he supposed to go?

They walked for a long time. The tunnel branched several times, some of them natural concrete divisions, others were merely large holes broken through the concrete. Raven led them through several twists and turns, choosing paths one after the other.

He wasn't kidding, Jett thought wearily. This place really is a maze.

Eventually, Raven stepped into a new tunnel. This one was hewn right out of rock, supported by wood, brick, metal siding and other random bits of materials. It was wide and tall enough for three people to stand comfortably side by side. Perhaps most importantly, it had lights.

They were sparse, set every thirty feet or so, and not very bright, but it was enough for one to see where they were going. Raven stopped, and turned around with a smile.

"Welcome to New Shann Tei," he said, spreading out his arms.

"New Shann Tei?" Moxie repeated dumbly. She looked around the wide tunnel with wide eyes. It didn't look like much, just a pile of dirt and rock and ramshackle junk.

Jett just stared at Raven, mind swirling in a flurry of confusion, suspicion and numb exhaustion. "Raven," he said. "What did you do?"

Raven's smile just grew. Then he turned around and strode down the tunnel, his long coat swaying about his legs with every stride.

Annoyed, Jett trotted after, catching up so he could he walk at the flyer's side. "Raven," he said, letting his irritation spill over into his voice.

"Yes, little brother?"

The way Raven addressed him sent a little thrill of delight and wonder through Jett, but he quickly shoved that down. He needed answers, now. "What is this place?"

"I just told you," Raven sounded far too amused for Jett's liking. "Weren't you listening?"

"That's not what I meant!" Jett grit his teeth as they passed yet another branching path. Seriously, how many paths were there? Was it supposed to be a confusing deathtrap or something?

"Ah, there you are!" Instead of answering, Raven called out into the tunnel. It thoroughly confused Jett, until a shadow seemed to separate itself from the tunnel wall just in front of them.

Moxie gave a soft gasp as the shadow revealed itself to be a man covered entirely, head to toe. Strips of pale cloth covered the expose skin of his face and hands. Only his eyes were revealed, and they were a pale green that glowed more yellow as they reflected the faint lights strung along the sides of the tunnel.

The man bent at the waist, offering a brief, yet archaic bow of respect. "Mr. Black," he murmured in a melodic, raspy voice. "You are back."

"Seb," Raven nodded towards the man. Then he turned, and gestured at Jett and Moxie who currently gaped at the strange man. "This is Moxie, and Jett. Kids, this is Seb. He's my eyes and ears around here, so be nice."

Seb glanced at Moxie, before his pale eyes flickered over to Jett. His attention seemed to linger, which made Jett grow increasingly uncomfortable, because Seb's gaze was far too sharp, far too knowing than it had any right to be.

"The white one," Seb murmured. "The little crow."

Jett recoiled, shocked. Those words, he'd heard them before. From a Forbidden Zone survivor, a twisted being who had been full of sickness and delusion.

Seb hummed, a low, almost soothing sound. "Not yet done. You should know."

"Wh-what?" That made zero sense. Jett gaped at the bizarre man, more than a little creeped out.

Raven patted him on the shoulder. "Relax, kid. Seb likes to talk in riddles, but he's mostly harmless. Now come on, there's more for you to see." With that, Raven started walking down the tunnel once more.

Mostly harmless? Jett didn't believe that. Something about Seb unnerved him, and he couldn't help but flinch as the bandaged man fell into step behind him. He wanted to twist around, to avoid turning his back to Seb, but that would've been incredibly awkward since he'd have to walk backwards.

Raven led them into a branching tunnel almost as wide as the first. It wasn't long before they ran into a couple of people patching up a crumbling wall. One was a heavyset woman holding a piece of sheet metal to the wall, while her companion, a nearly skeletal man, hammered several rusty nails into it to fasten it to the wall.

The woman was the first to spot them. Her eyes widened, and then she immediately straightened, brushing the dust off her overalls and wiping the dirt off her face. "Mr. Black," she called out, her voice loud and delighted.

Her companion turned as well, though he didn't seem quite as excited as she did. He watched in silence, his expression guarded and wary.

Raven didn't stop to chat, although he lifted his hand in greeting as he passed. The woman beamed and giggled like she was a teenager rather than a full grown adult woman. Jett grimaced, feeling slightly disturbed.

Once they were past the working couple, he stared at Raven. "She called you Mr. Black."

"Seems that way," Raven said lightly.

Jett sighed heavily. It seemed like he wouldn't be getting much out his brother at this rate. He was too exhausted to put in much effort anyway.

They passed several other people, most of whom called out to 'Mr. Black'. Most seemed happy to see him, others subdued and yet others appeared almost afraid. Jett found their reactions interesting, especially because one thing remained the same between all of them – all of them appeared to respect Raven in one form or another.

It was quickly becoming clear to Jett who the leader of all these people were. And that was confirmed when Raven finally led them into a large open cavern with a high ceiling supported by several pillars. Unlike the rest of the tunnels, this one was well lit with both firelit lanterns, candles and strings of electric-powered lights.

The second Raven set foot inside the large cavern, he was immediately approached by a young woman. She placed a hand on a hip and all but glared at him.

"Mr. Black," she said firmly. "Where have you-"

"Alainna," Raven interrupted smoothly. He swept past her and headed deeper into the cavern. After a moment's of hesitation, Jett followed, not sure what else he was supposed to do. He was dimly aware of Moxie staying back, her mouth opening in surprise as she looked around with wide eyes.

"Mr. Black!" The woman nearly whined, huffing in irritation. She was not one to be simply brushed aside. "Where did you go? Who are these people?"

By now, Raven had found his desk at the far side, though it was little more than a chair and a table piled high with reports, half-burnt candles and the occasional rat dropping. Flinging his coat back, he settled on the chair like a ruler would on his throne.

Jett couldn't help but stare, feeling a odd mixture of amusement and irritation. He leaned against the table with a faint sigh, wishing for a bed in which he could collapse into. So many questions swirled in his mind, but he was too tired to even begin sorting through them.

The young woman stalked up to the table, eyes filled with indignant anger. "Why won't you answer me?"

A hint of smirk passed over Raven's face. "Alainna," he said, "Report."

She stiffened, scowled, her expression morphing through several interesting emotions before she settled on plain irritated. Jett couldn't help but feel sympathy for her, because he knew exactly what she was going through. After a huff and a curious glance at Jett, she began to speak.

"I got notice an hour ago that your packages had been delivered," she said. "Everything was done just as you said, and there were no problems."

"Very good," Raven murmured. There was gleam in his eyes that sent chills down Jett's spine. "What else?"

"There's been no sign of any intruders topside," she said. "It's all been quiet."

"Hm. That's about to change. What else?"

Alainna gaped at Raven. "What do mean, it's about to change? What did you do?"

"What else, Alainna?" Raven ignored her questions.

She nearly exploded, throwing up her hands. "There's nothing else! Nothing has happened for days! What else do you want?!"

Raven's smirk grew a fraction. Jett sighed yet again. Poor girl.

Abruptly, Raven reached out and took hold of Jett's shoulder. Jett started with the suddenness of the action. Now what?

"Alainna, Seb," Raven spoke in a mild tone, yet there was something about his violet gaze that was intent, commanding. "This is Jett. My little brother. You will keep an eye on him."

"What?" Jett and Alainna spoke at the same time, both fixing Raven with a startled look.

Jett felt a wash of annoyance. As if he needed a babysitter. "Raven, I don't-"

The hand squeezed his shoulder gently, and somehow Jett recognized the gesture as a warning. Even though the flyer wore a playful expression, it didn't reach his eyes. He sat with an unnatural stillness, like a coiled spring about to burst, and Jett instantly fell silent. Unease threaded its way through his mind.

Unfortunately, Alainna didn't seem to catch the hint. She planted both hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Are you serious? You expect me to babysit this guy when there's a million other things that are more important? Mr. Black, what –"

Raven's voice was like the snap of a whip. "Alainna."

Jett stiffened, recognizing the tone, the danger. He watched as her mouth shut so fast her teeth clicked together. The color drained from her face, yet to her credit, her gaze remained fixed on Raven stubbornly.

"I built this place out of the ruins of a broken city," Raven said softly. The entire cavern had fallen silent, every single person within growing still. "We built this place upon the bones of thousands, and if I have my way, I will see this place stand and grow and become a true Underground City where all can seek refuge. However."

Raven abruptly rose, coat swishing faintly as it fell around his legs. He looked around the cavern, taking in all the people gathered here. "I will destroy it in a heartbeat if it was necessary to protect my brother. Is that clear?"

Silence. Then Alainna audibly swallowed. When her gaze fell upon Jett, he saw hurt resignation, and he frowned.

"I understand," she said softly. "I will do as you ask."

Raven nodded once. "Good. Then show him to a room where he can rest. Do not let him out of your sight."

Jett grimaced. "Raven, it's fine. She doesn't-"

"Go, Jett." Raven patted his shoulder, then drew away. "I will see you later."

"This way," Alainna gestured. Resigned, Jett left the desk and followed her through the silent cavern. He could feel the eyes watching him, prickling at his skin like dozens of thorns. Whispers arose, and he could only imagine what they said.

Hunching his shoulders, he was grateful when they entered a mostly empty tunnel. Yet that quickly dissipated as they traveled down a dizzying network of underground passageways, all lit by the same, sparsely placed lights. Unless one was extraordinarily familiar with this place, they would never find their way.

Jett blinked, his unease growing.

An underground city? It felt more like an underground prison.