The place looked more and more like a level from one of Carlos's games, Cara Loft, a treasure hunter who must avoid hidden traps and weapons to secure her goal to pass to the next level – except a crazy rhino had rampaged in it just moments before. Electrified walls lay in crumbs and steel doors lay smashed open. A few smouldering Sentinel corpses decorated the path, caught by the not-so-fail-safe human defence systems.

Tora had forgotten how far she'd descended underground by this point. The air still smelt faintly of Markl. The noisy fight of Ross against the lesser Sentinels had disappeared long ago. She made her way down the hundredth metal steps, her ears turned for the sound of movements.

Irritation built up. Markl couldn't possibly be moving so fast. Yet every door she passed was blasted open, every last-resort security system smashed to smithereens.

Her pulse thumped in her ears. Her mouth was dry.

Almost on cue, hushed voices reached her ears. She froze.

The muffled words came again. She couldn't make out the words. She raced the open door at the end of the corridor. It opened to a metal bridge overlooking about fifty metres below with other bridges criss-crossing below.

Tora gripped the metal rail handles and peered down. Its depth would have made any normal person dizzy. The weak lights at the very bottom flickered constantly, swallowed in darkness.

From one of the bottom bridges emerged Markl.

Tora's breath caught in her throat. He hadn't changed one bit: the same floppy brown hair and serious dark eyes, clad in his typical hooded sweatshirt and jeans. She'd almost expected him to walk around like the other Sentinels flanking him. She could have fooled herself into thinking this scene was nothing out of the ordinary. Her hands tightened over the handles.

The three far below stopped. Markl looked up.

Tora snapped backwards, her blood turning to ice. Had he seen her?

They moved again after a while, their feet clanging on the bridge. She eased out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

When she was convinced she was out of earshot, she stood up and peered over the edge again. She narrowed her eyes. She could make it – and it would be much quicker than running through this stupid place.

She swung herself over – and let go.

The sickening sensation of freefall danced in her stomach. Her dark fringe lifted off her forehead. Wind glided coolly over her sweaty skin. The bridges whizzed past, dim lights mounted on the rails passing like fireflies.

She threw out her arm as her stop approached. A forcefield shimmered in mid air, catching her with a light thump and then shrank. She grabbed the rails and hopped over it, landing on running feet.

The crashes of metal exploding and walls caving in grew louder. The smoking remnants of caved in doors and cracked walls were fresh. Lights hung askew, flickering. Tora slowed the chase. It would be troublesome to take on three Sentinels at once. God knows what Lyre weapons they had.

She stopped. The sweat made her t-shirt stick to her all over. Blood drummed in her ears. The path opened up to a large, three-storey hall, like the entrance to a boss battle. Corridors ran along the sides overlooking it.

Markl stood with his back to her at the far end, his hand clutched around the doorknob of the imposing double doors. His two lackeys were nowhere to be seen.

Tora's throat went tight. It had been a long time since she'd seen her 'friend'. So much had changed. So many bridges burned. His curly dark brown hair stuck up at odd angles as it had always done. His shoulders were hunched, his neck muscles tensed: the results of many nights spent pouring over files and books.

As if he'd sensed her stare, Markl turned.

Tora quivered. He really hadn't changed. She wanted to run and throw her arms around him. He had comforted her so many times in the past. His calm words brought her out of confusion when she battled with her awakening Shifter side. His hands caressed her head when her mind was driven to near madness.

Those same hands held the gun that robbed her of a beloved friend.

The painful memory seared through her still heart.

"Tora." His voice still emitted the familiar warm timbre. There was no surprise on his face, nor malevolence. In fact, it was like nothing had changed. "Long time no see."

"Not long enough." She ensured her voice was as cold as she could make it.

He chuckled.

"I'm not joking." Tora hoped she'd caught the tremble in her voice before he heard it. Her hands curled into fists. His laugh echoed around the chamber, increasing her irritation. "You've done enough. I'm stopping you right here and now."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Is that what that power-hungry Shifter told you to do?"

"I take no orders from my brother."

"Your brother? You may be related by blood, but you're no demon, Tor."

She hesitated.

"Are you seriously helping the Shifters?" he said, incredulous.

"I sure ain't helping you."

"You don't have to." Markl spread his hands out in front of him, palms facing skywards, a gentle look on his face. "The Shifters want the Artefact too -- but you don't."

"You betrayed us all, Markl."

"You would, too, if you knew what the Shifters had in mind. We all stood in their way. It was sooner or later the human world would be taken over. They were lucky it was a quick, painless affair -- thanks to us."

"You killed Damien." Her heart throbbed with pain.

"He was working against us. You were probably too trustful of him to notice how he was subtly changing your thoughts, mellowing you out -- and then awakening you."

Tora stopped, her blood turning to ice. Markl gave her a sympathetic look.

"He told me back then how unpredictable and powerful your outbursts were. It was me who suggested mollifying your demon side for everyone's safety, and you had no idea what you truly were, back then." He shook his head, regretful. "I wanted to tell you, but it would have done more harm than good. And it worked. Well, it worked until I realised he was working with the Shifters. I should have known. Why else would that side of you start awakening after being dormant for so long? And just when the Shifters start showing up?"

"That was Cimerus's handiwork, not Damien's!"

"You know how strong he was. Did you really believe he wasn't strong enough to suppress all of you?"

Tora's t-shirt stuck to her back. The air was stale and oppressive. A whirlwind of emotions tore through her head.

"And this new loyalty to the Shifters... what's going on with you? Wasn't your brother the one who got rid of you? If you're talking about betrayal, his was the first in all of this. Why are you so keen to do his bidding?"

His words brought up a distant memory: she crouched on the ground, forced into a submissive position by both the Shifter guards and her father's hellish stare. Traitor, she screamed, hurling all her hate at Cimerus, who stood shivering beside Beiomolt. She'd never told anyone that -- that she'd suspected one of her closer comrades to be the one telling Beiomolt about Maraduc.

She froze.

"But... how did you know that?"

Markl's dark eyes narrowed.

"You were in this realm at that time. How... how did you know it was Cimerus? Even I didn't know..."

She shook her head. A migraine built in her occiput.

"You didn't have to kill Damien."

"If I hadn't, it would have been me dead, and the Shifters ruling." His face was dark. "Are you in that much support of those demons? Damien's effect on you must have worn off by now."

Damien was the traitor? Tora's head was going to split in two. Markl was only fighting to save his own kind? But so was Cimerus -- the Shifters whose blood ran through her veins. He'd found her again, just as he promised, and he'd killed Beiomolt for that. And yet Markl said Cimerus was the one who sold her out.

"Damien wouldn't."

"Poor, sweet Tora." Markl cocked his head, his eyes gleaming like stars in the night, a sad smile on his face. "The world isn't split into good and evil, you know? I know this is all a lot to take in, but I'm not asking you to take my side. Just don't get in my way."

"You once said--" Tora swallowed; her throat was dry as sand. "--our job as Seekers was to protect humans. Yet you unleashed the Frostites."

"It was the Frostites or the Shifters eating them alive." He shrugged. His casualness hurt.

"It wasn't your choice to make. You can't decide the fate of seven billion people."

"Would you have said the same if the humans had fallen to your like instead?" His voice dropped in temperature by several degrees. "The Shifters didn't care for the human world. What makes you think they'd do any different?"

"It's not what we--"

"Oh, listen to you! 'We' this, 'we' that. Anyone would think you're just another Shifter!"

Tora stopped. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away, furious.

"Tora, I don't have time for your self-discovery. I don't care where you stand in this war. I just want you out of my way so I can get the Artefact."

The lack of compassion in his voice -- so familiar, yet so alien -- filled Tora with a new fire.

"And if I say no?" Her voice trembled, but not with fear.

A look she'd never seen before replaced Markl's sympathetic expression. All familiarity in his eyes died.

"Then I'll kick your corpse out of my way."

The side of Tora's head exploded in stars. Her ears deafened. Her legs collapsed from beneath her. A pounding in her mind erased all logical thought. She clutched her head and rolled out of instinct. A shudder ran along the floor in her wake.

She threw out a forcefield. Something slammed against the wall and bounced off. She sat up, her head spinning. Moving into a crouched position, she kept her distance. There was no way Markl could have hit her from where he was earlier -- from a blind spot, no less.

She wiped the side of her head. Blood glistened crimson on the back of her hand. She looked up. A Sentinel -- one of the two previously guarding Markl -- leapt through the air, a hammer raised above his head. It glowed a dark green.

Tora hesitated, torn between taking advantage of his vulnerability in mid-air and dodging whatever new trick he had up his sleeve.

She chose the latter. A crash made the room shudder. She looked up. A small crater encircled the hammer. Cracks snaked across the ground and up the walls; several chunks dislodged themselves, falling to the ground and throwing up dust. She scowled, wiping another trickle of blood from her face. Lucky it wasn't her head cracked open like a walnut. A dull ache throbbed throughout her body. At the far end, Markl had lost interest in the fight. He studied the intricate lock on the double door. Time was short.

Tora launched in his direction.

The hammer-wielding Sentinel appeared at her side -- he was much faster than expected for someone of his girth -- and swung. Tora slammed her hands down and sprang out of the way. The hammer passed her face by inches. She skidded to a halt. He followed suit. A sword gleamed at his waist. Just how many weapons did these people have?

She propelled forward. The large Sentinel's eyes gleamed. Tora made to attack him head on. He stomped on the ground. His hammer sailed over her head.

Tora switched direction at the last minute. She threw out her hand. A forcefield shimmered in front of her. She tucked her legs in, throwing herself back. She planted her legs flat on the invisible wall and vaulted off.

The hammer smashed into the spot where she would have been had she not rebounded. She felt the ripple of terrific energy through her forcefield.

She spun and lashed out a leg, catching the side of his helmeted head with her calf with enough force to knock out a demon.

"Suck on that!" she yelled.

The words barely left her mouth when the impact sent an impulse jarring up her leg and spine. She arched, gasping. She might as well have kicked a brick wall. She grabbed his shoulders, squinting in pain, and righted herself. Deft hands grabbed his sword before she scooted back, her limbs throbbing. His hammer still glowed green. Her leg was numb. Since when was Sentinel armour that hard?

Tora's hand snaked around the handle of the broad sword she'd taken. To her surprise, the sword narrowed until it resembled nothing thicker than a needle. Great. Bloody Lyre weapons.

A movement at her peripheries warned her in time. She brought up her sword. The metallic clang resonated throughout the hall. Her arms shook. The blade was too thin against the second Sentinel's. She pushed the Sentinel back and skipped backwards. Strength returned to that stunned leg.

The other Sentinel, who had curious silver eyes, studied her without giving anything away. She clutched her sword with two hands. Tora raised hers with one. She managed to kill demons in the past with whatever came to hand -- planks of wood, chairs, rubble, television screens. Surely a sword couldn't be any harder.

The Sentinel attacked with exaggerated, heavy swings. Tora watched for the motions, hitting just when it was within reach. Each slice passed Tora without injuries, but each impact sent shudders down her body. Her thinner blade wielded less power, whistling through the air and clanging against the larger sword without much damage. The Sentinel caught Tora's attack each time. Sweat trickled down Tora's forehead, stinging her eyes.

Tora increased her pace. Each time, the Sentinel matched her. She pressed her weight against the Sentinel. No matter how fast or hard she hit, she was there, able to meet with another attack. Sparks sprayed the air. Tora gripped the handle with both hands now. Her forearm muscles burned. She shot forward, aiming for the enemy's face.

The Sentinel disappeared.

Tora heard he before she saw her. The Sentinel's sword danced through the air, its grace belying its deadly potential. Tora brought her sword up -- too late. Its body caught a glancing blow from the Sentinel's blade. A shudder shot up Tora's arm. The handle shook. Nausea washed over her with realisation. The blade slipped from her grip.

The Sentinel's sword descended, aiming straight for Tora's head.

She threw up a shield. Her arms crossed over her head. The forcefield shuddered.

Tora shoved the Sentinel back just as her shield shattered. With a scream, she stumbled backwards, blinded with pain. Swear words tumbled over chaotically in her mind. The agony tore through every brain cell, blades piercing through her mind and leaving flaming remains.

Somehow, she managed to stay on her feet. A shadow passed over her head. Her stomach dropped.

The first Sentinel's hammer came smashing down. Tora managed to grab her sword in time and throw it up in a clumsy block. The two weapons connected -- and her sword shattered into tiny pieces.

Goddammit!

Her meagre block managed to deflect most of the hit. The hammer landed on the ground, sending a shockwave flying outwards and Tora to her knees, her brain rattling in her skull. Her shoulders screamed in agony; her fingertips tingled, numb. Cracks exploded from the site of impact, zigzagging to the walls, throwing more rubble onto the ground.

Yellow teeth grinned from behind the mouthpiece of the helmet. Tora sucked in a breath, her mind in disarray. The bloodthirsty anticipation in those confident Sentinel eyes flashed.

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