They raged outside the western gates. Clouds of dust and smoke surrounded them, obscuring them as surely as a sandstorm hides the horizon in the Ravaged Lands. Inside, two giant shadows exchanged blows, their strikes fshing like lightnings as they streaked and parted the veil. Pincers and fangs snapped, legs kicked up boulders the size of a Normie, fists struck, and the bde met the axe.

  A gncing ssh ripped the helmet from Janine, and the ensuing gre momentarily blinded her. Staying calm, she used one forearm to knock down a pincer before cleaving upward. The Taleteller’s edge dragged over Brood Lord’s bulk, scraping chunks out of his armor and cracking the visor. She blinked and tilted her head to the left, evading the venomous spit. Immediately, a fist smmed into her muzzle, fast enough to prevent her from opening her jaws. It propelled her back, but she grabbed the khan by the wrist, pulling him closer.

  That threw him off bance, and his bde plunged over her shoulder instead of into her neck. Janine closed the distance, kneeing him once, hard enough to dent in the pte and toss him back, right into a horizontal ssh. His mechanical leg struck the ft of the axe, stopping the blow, and the second nded at her knee, nearly buckling it. She feigned weakness and elbowed a pincer that tried to throttle her, cracking the top of the chee.

  Janine resumed her defense, parrying his heavy blows without moving a millimeter, pnning to irritate Brood Lord into making a mistake. Today wasn’t a simple fight. She had faced stronger opponents before and had gotten used to the idea of not returning to the pack one day. The marauders and cannibals had to be stopped; there was no question here. But that was also a part of her duty, just as she had to end the Iternians and the Oathtakers during the past wars and border conflicts. There was no real animosity between them; the former were too degenerate to understand their mistakes, and the tter had the same obligations to their nations, and their views of the future cshed.

  This was personal. She wanted to end Brood Lord for what he had done to her family and her pack. His methods disgusted her, and so he had to die. By her paw or another. She cked reinforcements, and in her weary condition, it wasn’t wise to be overly eager in attacking. The sisters will come. He will never set foot in Houstad.

  Brood Lord advanced, bulldozing Janine with his mass; his front legs trying to close around her neck. She evaded them, sinking the axe deep into his left leg, and he groaned, smming his sword at the Taleteller hard enough to create a crater around the two of them. The axe reverberated in the warlord’s paws; his weight heaved at her, and the fist nded on her broken nose anew.

  Sniffing her own blood, Janine uppercut the khan with the free paw and kicked him twice, pulling the weapon free from his leg. Brood Lord didn’t retreat. He charged at her, pincers narrowly missing her eyes. Venom bubbled between his teeth as he leaned in, and a sharp pain stung Janine after his arm had scissored through her cheek. She abandoned defense and headbutted Brood Lord, sending his own venom rolling down his throat. A ssh of his bde sliced into her thigh, piercing the pte, and she responded with a crisscrossing strike that damaged his chest pte.

  “Hm…” he chuckled and took the sword in both hands. A single ssh locked their weapons together. Janine dragged the edge along the length of his bde, but his tsuba kept his fingers safe. “You’re more resilient than I thought. So selfish for attention. Don’t you know I have a rebellion to quell? Never fear. I have just the means to bring you down…” A beep sounded in his helmet, and Brood Lord whistled, listening to the hasty foreign nguage. “Ha! At st! The bastard is no more!”

  He looked back, beyond the battling ranks of the hordemen and to the rear, where bright hills briefly fshed into reality as the Ice Fangs bombarded themselves a path to the Horde’s superweapon. Janine lunged at him, opening her maw. An elbow strike tossed her head back.

  “Tch, tch, patience, Janine. I haven’t forgotten about you. I was hoping you’d show more fervor, but I have just the trick to snap you out of your stalling.” He smiled, pushing heavily on her axe. “Brood Lord to the Sky Wrath. Open fire. Demolish Houstad. I want every stray doggie eradicated.”

  What? Her eyes opened wide as she tried to deduce whether the request was a bluff or a serious order. This split-second hesitation had cost her another wound as Brood Lord shoved his cracked pincer through the gash in her armor, pinching the hide. Then she sensed something else. A jab.

  A wave of coldness washed over her. Her hearing faded and her vision blurred, but the noise of the vast gears thudding over the field reached her even in that state. The Sky’s Wrath was on the move, its bastions vomiting death, erupting and shaking the surface, and the huge pilrs of energy rose in the Order’s path, hindering their offense as the behemoth’s main cannon began to take aim.

  He wasn’t bluffing.

  Brood Lord broke the bind, toppling Janine onto her back, his bde near her eye.

  “I’ve had my share of unpleasant memories of this city, Janine. Mad Hatter expects me to win, and this is precisely what I shall deliver to her. Can you feel it?” He kicked her in the belly. “Your organs slowing down, your blood no longer clotting? Fatigue and drowsiness gripping you?” A droplet of venom spttered on her nose. “You hoped for your allies and trusted the traitors. I prefer a more direct approach, one that guarantees a result. It took a bit of experimenting and testing on the limbless freak we captured, and then ter on other white-furred dogs to cement the discovery, but I had found the perfect concoction …”

  Truthfully, Janine felt none of it. Her strength returned as her body flushed out the filth. Her hearing and sight restored, she feigned vulnerability, anxiously searching for a way to end it. He pinned her limbs with his legs, but the one on her right arm had been wounded by the axe, oozing white ichor and red blood from the cut. She could free it, but then what? Where to strike to end it? His gorget is too thick, perhaps the crack in the chest pte.

  Sister. Everything—the swirling smoke, the dust, the tattered debris in the air, the bragging—stopped. Half-rotten fingers draped themselves over Brood Lord’s face as the familiar revenant manifested. It perched atop the man, examining Janine and speaking in slurred whispers. Restraint. Terrific gurgled, grabbing her hair to hold her head steady. Drop it.

  Janine obliged, surrendering to the frustration and anguish over the lost cubs, her parting with Colt, the losses in the pack, her failure to keep Marco safe, the betrayal of her supposed kin, and letting hatred repce control. Every grudge resurfaced, and her arm broke free from the weakened limb, haymaking Brood Lord’s helmet so hard that it cracked. He swayed, and her legs slipped free, kicking at his jaw as the animal in her soul broke free of its prison and joined the human. Janine rose, bellowing her roar to the sky, a cornered beast standing guard over her den full of cubs. There were no more doubts, no hesitations, no consideration of humanity. Just pure desperation.

  An animal doesn’t think. It shes out, raging against fate.

  Yes! Yes! There is nothing wrong with anger or grief if you can decide how to use them! And you can do it! Turn the tide! On the offensive, Warlord Janine! The apparition yelled, disappearing.

  “How are your lungs still working?” Brood Lord demanded. “Weren’t you supposed to be kin…”

  An axe. What was an axe? A tool. She hurled her trusted friend in the most disrespectful manner. It broke the sound barrier and hit the sword, raised for a block, hard enough to send a shockwave. Brood Lord groaned, straining under the effort. He overcame the impact and sent the axe back into the gate at the cost of his leg. While he was busy blocking, Janine crossed the distance on all fours, sinking her fangs into the joint of his mechanical limb, biting through cords and metal, and darted aside, carrying her prize as the khan sshed at the empty space.

  She turned around and tossed the bitten-off limb like a dart. It struck Brood Lord in his shoulder, and the snarling warlord leapt under him, chewing on the wounded organic limb and grinning at the taste of quivering muscle beneath the chitin casing. Food. Prey. Move. Attack. Without halting, she rammed the limb, adding her own weight to the bite, and snapped the leg in two.

  “You meddling dog!” Brood Lord cleaved through the ground, missing Janine.

  She rushed to the Taleteller, hearing its call on an instinctual level. The human in her advised caution, and the beast tugged her in the opposite direction. Bance was the key, Janine understood. It was never right to completely shut off a part of her soul, to shy away from the aggression of her kind. It deserved to be mastered, and acceptance helped her shake off the fatigue and embrace the berserker’s fury, guided by the human touch, honed over the decades.

  Spinning in the air, Janine plucked the axe, returned to the bipedal stance, and ran at Brood Lord, raising the axe overhead. An urge demanded her to unch a cssical ssh, but instead she sidestepped the stab and jabbed at the khan’s knuckles with the butt of the axe, denting his gauntlet. A finger twitched, growing me. Up close, they both swung, scattering rocks with the resulting wind. Their weapons moved back from the collision, and Janine indulged in a barbarian impulse and let go of the Taleteller.

  Janine punched Brood Lord in the face, hard enough to break a tooth. Then she sshed, nearly gouging out his eyes, and the khan hissed, dropping his sword. His fists clenched together and smmed her into the temple, throwing her onto the bridge’s edge. Blood trickled from her nostril; her brain shook, but the warlord didn’t care. She sprang right into his embrace, biting into his shoulder and ignoring the pincers scraping across her limbs.

  Brood Lord gnawed at her own neck, and their gorgets groaned, shredded by teeth and fangs. They reached each other’s necks almost simultaneously, gripping one another with the deadly hold. His pincers kept stabbing her chest, but Janine refused to relent. Crisscrossed ssh. Working paw. The human in her formuted a pn, and the beast howled eagerly, demanding flesh.

  They struggled in carnivorous competition, and the fangs neared the jugur. Brood Lord sensed this and tore Janine away from him, smming her into the bridge. She pulled him closer as if he were a lover, pretending to still try to bite his neck. He struck her twice, and the force of his blows bled the back of her head as it hit the ground, breaking her front fangs. Cracks that turned into fissures widened in the tortured structure, and the bridge leading into Houstad colpsed, carrying them both down in the avanche of stone and metal.

  It didn’t matter. They forgot about their lost weapons. Brood Lord briefly became the focus of Janine’s entire existence; she had to end him no matter what, and she saw the same determination in his eyes. They shared an understanding at long st, but it brought her nothing but loathing. He was the prime example of what she could have been without the guidance of the Blessed Mother and the shamans’ teaching. The greater the power, the rger the responsibility and the more alluring the temptation to abuse it.

  The human and the animal in her shared the sentiment, overpping and becoming one. Her fws and her strengths were her own.

  “Enough of it.” Brood Lord snarled, grabbing Janine by the jaws. “I’ll pull your head apart with my bare hands!”

  Red lines ran along both of her cheeks; she heard the crack of bone and the snap of torn muscle. Janine tried to close her mouth; his fingers jammed her fangs into her gums as his pincers dug blindly into her. He jerked several times, failing to tear away her upper jaw because of the knuckle she had broken earlier. Then Brood Lord’s eyes widened, and he let out a hiccup.

  Janine had shoved an arm through the crack in his armor left by the Taleteller. His sternum splintered, and her paw rummaged inside of his body.

  “Huh. So you do have a heart,” she told him, closing the fist.

  For Bogdan. For Marco. May the souls of those he killed find peace.

  Brood Lord said, “Kehk.” The light faded from his eyes; he went limp and slipped off her, falling on his face.

  She stepped on his head, answering the call of the inner beast, and stomped until he was but a smear. Dead. He had taken so much from her, and his simple and quick demise didn’t seem right. Janine thought she would find some satisfaction or revetion, perhaps one st encounter with Bogdan, but only a corpse y at her feet. He had simply disappeared from her world. And her belly rumbled.

  Not the worst outcome.

  “I stopped you,” Janine said, gnawing at his arm.

  That you did, sister. Terrific crawled from under a broken support beam.

  “You never wanted to kill me.” Janine stopped feasting and faced her.

  Of course not! The apparition shook her head incredulously, and the broken vertebrae failed to support it. Terrific’s head fell off her shoulders, forcing her to catch it in her paws. We are sisters. You, me, and every female in the tribe are reted. Even those disgusting, useless, weak males are my family.

  “But… I killed you.”

  As I have killed others. The shoulders swayed, trying to imitate a nod, though the paws held the head at chest level. Come now, Janine! Everyone dies. Even you will probably die in some forgotten desert, helpless and alone… What is the point of worrying or being bitter about it? It’s how you’re remembered that matters. And I, now and forever, am never your enemy, my stupid sister. Be a honey and pave the way toward a better tomorrow in my name. Too. I meant to say too.

  “You… you can’t be here, Terrific. Stress, blood loss, and guilt must be pying tricks on me. You are a figment of my imagination created by guilt.” Janine retreated to a patch of nd illuminated by light, steering clear of the abomination.

  Her leg buckled, and Janine had to use her paws to remain standing. Only now did the extent of her injuries catch up with her. Six deep gashes covered her torso, exposing broken ribs. Her armor had taken on a red and white hue from the spilled blood, and her nose was clogged. A heady rush of reward caressed her as the fire of regeneration eagerly consumed calories, causing an unrelenting itch. Swollen bruises and welts hid one eye and weakened her voice. Three fingers refused to bend.

  Brain damage. Yes, that’s it. There are no ghosts.

  Maybe I am. So what of it? We all carry our own mountains of regret on our shoulders. And you’re going to make more mistakes, Janine. So many, many more. But guess what? You’ll also grow and make more right choices. The point is not to dwell on something you can’t change, but to stay in the present and persistently strive to be better than yesterday. Or alternatively, you can curl into a ball and cry for eternity, wallowing in self-pity… But we both know that the person who defeated me is better than that. And trust me, when all is said and done, you’ll find peace. Just as I have now.

  Terrific mounted her head back; her neck locked into pce, and healed skin swallowed the broken bone, dented hide fttened, smooth curves restored. The sweet smell of decay vanished, and the wounds closed; the fur regained its shiny, lush, smooth appearance. Her eyes blinked and opened, shining bright yellow.

  “So long, Jani,” Terrific said in her old voice, but there was no sarcasm, combativeness, or challenge in it. “It was a bst, truly. Say hi to the other bitch for me. I did what I wanted. My long atonement awaits. Get your ass ready for a rematch on the other side! When I am done paying for my crimes, I am ripping you a new asshole!”

  “If you see my cubs and soulmates, tell them that I love them,” Janine asked, uncaring whether this was a hallucination or not.

  Terrific shrugged and retreated into the smoke.

  ****

  I thank everyone for reading! Have an awesome week!