When Beck stole and subsequently donned the militaristic armor of a corporate mercenary, who’d been killed by a mythical creature older than recorded history, she felt as though she’d crossed a line. It would be necessary, she knew, if she ever wanted to see her friends  again. Still, seeing her reflection in a dirty, iridescent puddle, wearing the helmet of the group directly responsible for the eradication of her own, she felt wrong. Very wrong, but she couldn’t let that stop her.

“You can do this,” she told herself, rising from her place on one knee behind an oil tank larger than a double decker bus. Beck peeked her head around the corner, watching as another group of soldiers continued its march through the outdoor factory that was the White Oak Site. She’d been observing them for a good while now, studying their movement patterns. Despite wearing her uniform, she’d opted to stay out of sight as much as possible. The last thing she needed was for someone to acknowledge her, or God forbid, put her to work. Time was of the essence.

She looked into the distance, at the massive hangar she knew they were heading for, its sloping roofs and massive gates taking up a majority of the skyline that wasn’t filled with tubes, smokestacks, and towers. Scaling one of its sides, far, far out of reach of the many guard towers and their everpresent spotlights, was a shadow most would dismiss as a trick of the light, something not worth looking at. Beck knew better, though. The Woodsman was getting into position.

Beck emerged from her hiding spot and assumed her best impression of the other DIRE mercenaries. Back straight, looking forward, gun pointed down. She counted her steps to stay in time with the others, hanging back in their formation to not stand out too much. 

The labyrinth of industrial noise gave way to the small shipping yard they were moving through now. Beck marched along, keeping her eyes out for anything that could be a threat. Cranes, forklifts, and hard-hatted workers scrambled to unload the various cargo from the trucks.When they’d see her, she noticed they seemed apprehensive, almost afraid, whispering when they believed she couldn’t see them. She reminded herself they couldn’t see under her armor, that all they saw was another faceless merc. She was the enemy. Why wouldn’t they be afraid of her?

Something moved out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she turned on her heel to view the intrusion. The shipping container inches to her right was moving. With a high pitched whine, the massive crate was lifted into the air and began to swing to the side. She ducked her head as it moved above her, and when she looked up, she could see what it was. A large, mechanical exosuit, standing fifteen feet tall in front of her. In its center mass, a glass cockpit shaped like half a dodecahedron, was the worker who’d startled her to begin with.

“Woah! Hey! Take it easy!” The man called out, raising his arms. The motion capture technology of the suit automatically mimicked the worker’s movements, translating them to the machine, causing the exosuit’s arms to rapidly lift the shipping container over its head. Beck didn’t even register what’d caused his reaction until she looked down, realizing she’d been pointing her rifle directly at the poor man. Why was she breathing so hard?

“Ah, sorry.” Beck stuttered, lowering the rifle, before abruptly lifting it again, “back to work!” She called out.

“Fine, fine! Don’t have to tell me twice,” the man in the exosuit began to turn around, the suit’s torso spinning 360 degrees before the legs caught up with it. Then, as the man hauled the container to its destination, Beck made a note never to do that again. She hadn’t noticed just how much tension she’d built up over the last couple of hours. Another slip up like that was bound to draw attention. She slung the rifle over her shoulder, breaking into a jog to catch up to the rest of her “unit.”

The squad of soldiers were welcomed to the hangar by the metal whine of a welding torch above them. The building’s doors, two great slabs of corrugated metal, slid open like the maw of some great beast, the very same doors she and The Woodsman saw Sergeant Dodds and his men pass through some time ago. In her mind, wherever he went, Eli and Alex were nearby.

 The interior was a field of concrete surrounded by high walls leading up to skylight windows and spanning catwalks. Like everything within the White Oak Site, the hangar was a haphazard mess. Shipping containers, small vehicles, and rumbling generators were scattered throughout the building, as though the hangar itself was a smaller maze within a maze. Barrels of oil, waste, and oil waste were being moved all around. The centerpiece was a large jet, spanning half the room, suspended from the ceiling by thick cables. Whether it was useable or in storage, Beck didn’t know.

She kept her eyes open for any sign of where Dodds might have gone. The hangar didn’t seem like the kind of place he’d keep a group of eco-terrorists. Taking a moment to look around, she split off from the unit, squeezing between two shipping containers to get out of sight. Reappearing on the other side, Beck decided to explore the hangar further. 

She started by circling the building. On her third round, she felt stumped. Dodds wasn’t here, and neither were any prisoners. Did he leave before she could get inside? It was possible, but surely she would’ve noticed him on the way in. Just when she was starting to rethink their plan, she heard something from off to her right.

“Next!” She turned to see what looked to be a large, rectangular square, surrounded by a metal box frame and guarded by two armed mercenaries. A line had formed of workers, other soldiers, and a new group she hadn’t seen until now: scientists. Men and women, dressed in white lab coats, exchanging notes and bickering. Curious, she slipped into the back of the line.

A third guard stood at the front of the line, holding what looked like a tablet. Several of those in line had gathered on the square already. The worker at the front of the line held a small, red keycard out to the soldier. The soldier took it, slid it into his tablet, and then removed it, handing it back to the other man.  “Clear,” came the disguised voice, and the worker stepped onto the platform. Ten had gathered total, and the soldier turned around to a console. With the pull of a lever, there was a horn sound, and yellow LEDs atop the metal frame clicked on, spinning around and around. Then, the platform descended, and the ten disappeared from sight.

It was an elevator. Beck had never considered the White Oak Site extended underground. How far down did it go? This had to be where Dodds went. She needed to get onto that platform. Three others had taken up spots behind her, keycards in hand, the one thing she didn’t have. She cursed herself, realizing she’d have to find one. Looking around, she did something many in the room wouldn’t bother doing: she looked up.

One of the panels to the skylight windows had been pulled back, and the shadow was there, perched. The catwalk lay just beneath, a series of bridges that led across the room like rafters in an attic. Two guards stood up there, watching the scene below. One, smoking a cigarette, standing in place, the other walking the catwalk’s length in the other direction. Both of which could’ve never seen the beast coming.

The Woodsman struck, dropping from above directly behind the smoking man. Before they could turn around, it had slammed the man’s head into the metal railing, dispatching them quickly. The other guard spun around, but was hit with the body of his coworker, thrown at them by the leg. They connected hard, sending them back. Beck watched for any movement, but they didn’t get back up. The monster squatted down, scanning for any other witnesses, but no alarms were sounded. All that in ten seconds. No wonder, in the centuries since it came to be, that it had never been caught.

The Woodsman slowly crawled its way across the catwalk, scanning the floor, looking for her. Beck had hoped to meet with it somehow once they were both inside, but with this many eyes, that wouldn’t be possible. Then, as she watched it move along, she bumped into someone.

“Hey,” the man in front of her turned around, “watch it.” It was a mercenary, dressed identically to her, yet he stood a full head taller, and sounded angry. “You one of the new ones?”

“Uh, yeah, just transferred yesterday.”

“Stay out of my way,” was what he told her just before turning around. Before she could roll her eyes out of her own skull, Beck spotted the key card sticking out of his back pocket. Looking back at the walkway, the Woodsman had disappeared.

“Actually,” she said, tapping on the man’s shoulder, “I need some help with something, could you come with me real quick?”

The man turned around, and she stuck a thumb over her shoulder, pointing to a series of stacked cargo containers. The man eyed her, “Uh huh, sure, not like I have places to be and things to do.” The passive aggression was palpable, but he didn’t fight her on it. She led him over to a container. It had been opened, darkness lying inside.

“Stand right there.”

“Why the hell would I do that? Do I look stupid to you?”

“No, but it thinks you are.” A long arm had extended from the shadows, grabbing hold of the man by the head. Before he could scream, he was dragged inside, and after a moment the trashing noises had subsided, which had gone unnoticed in the hangar’s soundtrack of noise.

“Take it,” the darkness grumbled. The red key card slid across the container’s floor. Beck stopped it with her foot and scooped it up, sticking it in her uniform.

“I don’t think you can use the elevator with me. You’ll get spotted too fast. How are you going to get down there?”

The Woodsman emerged out of the shadows, a mass of hair and muscle beneath a homemade ghillie suit of mosses and vines. “I find new path. Get to you. Must hide. For now.”

The creature reached out to grab the container door, but before it could close it, Beck stopped it.

“Good luck.” she told it.

The monster’s eyes looked upon her, pinpricks of yellow beneath a hood of leaves. “Don’t need.” With that, it stepped back inside the dark container, and Beck closed the doors behind it. Stepping back, she saw another exosuited worker moving her way, ready to collect.

“Clear,” a few minutes and one swipe of a keycard later, she stepped onto the elevator platform, squeezing in next to a lab coated scientist and a few jumpsuited blue collar workers. A feeling was building inside her, not unlike the one a child experiences standing at the lip of a tall waterslide. Beck didn’t know what she’d find down there, but as the mercenary pulled the lever, and the whirling lights came on, the platform began to descend, and there was no turning back.

The ride down was cramped, and far longer than she expected it to be. Down, down they went into the bowels of the White Oak Site. No sights to see, just a monotonous wall of concrete, occasionally broken by the odd light bulb or panel. Not a word was spoken among the group. Everybody knew the assignment, except for Beck of course.  Eventually, the lift began to slow, coming to a sudden, hard stop in front of a mechanical door. There came the hissing sound of pneumatics, then the gate slid open. People stepped off, they had jobs to do. So did Beck, but she could only stare in shock at what she saw.

The room was clean. Too clean, and well lit, a far cry to the surface of the complex. This new level was made up of white and chrome panels, a set of stairs leading to a small balcony. She stepped down, placed her hands upon the railing, and got a full look at the scene below. A circular atrium four floors deep, marked by a tower in the center that spanned all four. On each floor was a row of glass windows. Within each of those windows was a person, dressed in a white jumpsuit, all in their own separate cubicles. Guards and scientists were on patrol, skittering around on the lower levels, going about their tasks. Monitors and screens, whirring drones flying from floor to floor, and cameras. Cameras everywhere.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, “this is The Brig.”

A prison. The Kerras Corporation’s best kept secret, that beneath their billion dollar black site was a panopticon prison, and somewhere in the depths of this facility, her friends were here, and so was Dodds. People were walking by, watching her. She had to keep moving, she couldn’t dwell on this, but trying to remove herself from the railing was hard. She couldn’t fathom they’d stoop this low, that so many would be complicit in this. Don’t think, just move, she remembered. It’s all she could do.

Walking the halls of The Brig was a surreal experience; possibly the only Dryad to have infiltrated this place. She’d decided to start her search by starting on the fourth floor and working her way down. Staircase after staircase, the clinical white tunnels of the facility seemed to stretch on and on. Beck took note of the cameras, lots of them, dotting the corners of hallway intersections, flying drones surveying the halls. Scientists would walk by, clip boards in hand, sometimes accompanied by a DIRE mercenary. The ceilings were a patchwork of pipes and the occasional sign, directing her back to the atrium where she started. When she reached the circular room again, she looked up at the imposing tower made entirely of white concrete, no observation windows to be seen. Walkways would spring from each floor, connecting to the tower, creating a visual not unlike looking into the spokes of a bike wheel. What really caught her attention though, were the cells.

It was a sinking feeling, being surrounded on all sides by people trapped in rooms. Each cell was about as large as a walk-in closet, marked by a single slab of thick plexiglass which gave a look inside. Outside each cell was a screen, with a read out detailing each prisoner.  The cell walls looked padded, and every inmate was dressed in an identical white jumpsuit, a serial number displayed on their chests. As she circled the room, trying to appear like a guard on patrol, she would look in on the prisoners and get different reactions. All different people, all different ages, all different responses to her presence. Some would bang on the glass. Some would curse her out. Some would cower, and some, simply looked on with indifference, as though resigned to their fate.

But, as she went, that sinking feeling became alarm. The screens outside each cell contained a photo of the prisoner, alongside health information, but sometimes the photos wouldn’t line up. She stopped in front of one of the cells, peering in through the glass. The woman inside looked back, tired and angry, but Beck had to do a double take. 

In her screen image, they had raven black hair and smooth skin. Despite the serial number that told her otherwise, she couldn’t have been the same person. The screen said the woman was thirty one years old, yet she looked twice that number at least. Her hair had gone white, she looked scarily thin, and then there was her face. Lined with wrinkles, marked by crow’s feet, her sunken eyes looked onto Beck with a fiery hate that shook her to the core. “What are you looking at,” she rasped.

It was awful, and it was a pattern that was only confirmed by a second circle around the room. Nearly half of them seemed prematurely aged, some worse than others. Whether it be months, years or decades, the effects ranged from being nearly indistinguishable from their screen pictures and, at its worst, looking utterly inhuman; the living dead locked in a padded cell.

The only thing Beck knew for certain, a fact she couldn’t decide was good or bad, was that Eli and Alex weren’t in those cells. They were somewhere else down here, but the tunnels away from the atrium seemed endless. Too much ground to cover all at once. Looking into one of the cells again, she noticed something in the corner; another security camera, eyeing her down. She then looked from the camera to the tower, and got an idea.

It wasn’t hard to find a staircase and subsequent walkway that led into the panopticon’s watch tower. The walkway itself, a concrete bridge leading to a steel door, gave her a view of the fourth floor’s cells, more evidence to her that Eli and Alex weren’t in this area of the prison. The door needed a keycard, and fortunately the red one granted to her by The Woodsman did the trick. The electronic bolt shot back and she pushed open the door, finding something she didn’t expect.

“Hello, D-89θB,” a harsh whisper called out to her. The inside of the tower was a thick jungle of wires, monitors, and circuit boards. It was surprisingly dark, only lit by the soft glow of screen lights and flickering buttons.

“Hello?” She asked without thinking, and bit her tongue to keep her tone from sounding too out of the loop. Beck stepped inside, nearly tripping over a clotted network of cables that snaked along the floor. Without her input, the door snapped shut behind her, and she felt like she’d walked into a trap. She tried parsing out where the voice was coming from, it sounded all around her. “Where are you?” 

“I’m above you.” Beck looked up, and the shape of a person descended from the ceiling. It was a man wearing a kind of electronic mesh suit, coated with wires and switches. They were held up by a large robotic claw connected to their waste, the arm of which was affixed to the ceiling. Upon the man’s head was a bizarre half-mask. Obscuring their natural eyes and nose, the vast majority of the wires throughout the room all seemed to plug into the mask at the base of the man’s skull. When he spoke, she realized his voice came from speakers throughout the room.

“What are you?” she asked, trying to keep her composure before the man, who cocked his head to the side in reply.

“I am the Observer,” he motioned to a wall of screens, displaying various locations throughout The Brig. “I watch for threats. I control the drones. I keep the peace. What can I do for you, D-89θB?” 

She assumed that must’ve been the title of whoever she’d stolen her armor from. Either way, maybe she could get something useful from him. “I need to find Dodds. Urgent message. His ears only.”

“Ah, the Sergeant,” there came a buzzing noise from the man’s mask, before he ascended on his claw arm, his wire headdress moving and tangling as he went. A few keystrokes on a console mounted to the upper side of the wall, and the screens started flickering, changing views. Suddenly, she saw him. It was Dodds, walking down a hallway, two guards in tow. Between the two lackeys, being hauled by his arms, was Eli. He was dragging his feet, his head hung low, but it was him. He was alive. They continued down the hall and entered into a room marked “.

“Where is this?” She pointed at the screen. The Observer came down again and paused, arms and legs dangling, like the limbs of a dead spider. There came another buzzing noise, and The Observer let out an off kilter chuckle, the image of the strange man smiling giving her goosebumps. Beck had no idea what that meant, but she asked the question a second time. “It’s urgent, I just need to get there.”

“Down the third tunnel, marked in green. Take the first right, then a left, and finally another right. Keep going down the hall. You’ll see it.” The Observer floated upwards again, the wires growing taught as he moved further into his nest of technology. “Don’t keep the Sergeant waiting.”

“Thank you.” The exit door swung open again, and Beck took the chance to get out as soon as possible. She had what she came for, but The Observer spoke up one more time.

“One more thing, D-89θB.”

Beck stopped in her tracks, “yes?”

“I’d suggest you run. I do enjoy a challenge.” The door to the tower slammed shut, locking Beck outside on the walkway. The whole room became engulfed in red lights. Sirens blared, and the flying drones that’d dotted the spacious atrium stopped in their tracks, maneuvering towards her. Her cover was blown. 

“Damn it!” she swore. The few guards that’d been stationed around the atrium turned on their heels, and red laser dots appeared on her armor. She took off down the walkway, an electric charge building in the air from the various drones charging up their Tesla beams.

“Halt!” A DIRE guard appeared at the end of the walkway, baton in hand. He rushed her, and she had no time to think. Moving on instinct, she ducked beneath the man’s baton swing as the air’s static charge reached a fever pitch, tackling into the guard and sending them both hurdling over the railing. The two of them screamed all the way down, but Beck heard the accompanying THWOOMPHs of the drones firing off above them. Gunshots rang out as well, the atrium becoming a cacophony of ringing noises. They hit the ground hard, their armor absorbing most of the impact. The man sat up for a second before a punch from Beck sent him back to the floor.

She had to keep moving. Beck leapt off the guard’s body, barely avoiding a smattering of gunshots that came from above. The guards shouted orders, and all Beck could do as she made for the tunnel was draw her pistol from the holster across her chest, and blind fire over her shoulder. Amidst the blaring sirens came a mechanical screech, and as she bolted across the atrium she saw the tunnel’s entrance start to disappear behind a metal door. They were going to lock her in.

Come on! Her way out was shrinking fast, and she wasn’t going to make it. As a last ditch effort, she slid across the ground, barely scraping under the door before it closed, sealing off the atrium. Beck rolled to a stop on the tunnel floor, but the sirens were still there, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the buzz of drones were growing closer. She looked up, and there was a small, square hole in the door. “Oh no.”

Like a swarm of angry bees, the Observer’s drones came pouring in. Tesla beams were fired off, and Beck kept running. The tunnel itself was a long corridor that curved off to the right. She still had her rifle, but stopping now to hold her ground wasn’t an option. Her only saving grace were the other personnel. Scientists and workers were in that tunnel with her, fleeing in a panic, disrupting the drone’s tracking. 

She reached a crossroads-four directions. She hung a right, but cried out when another spray of gunfire lit up the wall inches away, raining sparks down on her. “There!” One of three guards called out from down the hallway, gaining on her position. Of course the Observer lied, the directions were a trap. She couldn’t keep this up much longer. Beck took advantage of the chaos in the crowd around her and yanked open the first door she could on the side of the tunnel, slamming it behind her.

It was a small laboratory, a series of long tables and cabinets, fume hoods at the ready. Upon her intrusion, the scientists inside immediately leapt from their stations, terrified. “Everybody out!” Beck fired into the air and they scattered, heading for the door. When they were all out, she barricaded it behind them, throwing down a shelf standing near the door. Quickly, she scoured the room, but there was no way out.

Beck turned and, in the corner of the room, was another security camera.Through its mechanical lens, she felt the Observer’s gaze. She didn’t bother saying anything, lifting the pistol and shooting the camera on reflex. The device clattered to the floor, breaking in two over a desk. She would’ve dismissed it, but then she spotted what was underneath that desk; the outline of a metal grate in the wall. Someone began banging on the door, a guard no doubt. Seeing no other option, Beck dove beneath the desk and tore off the grate. The vent inside was dark, but just large enough for her to squeeze through. She crawled inside and pulled it closed.

Breathless, she crawled as far from the vent’s entrance as she could, and only stopped upon realizing she’d gotten lost. The sirens sounded distant now, there was no doubt they were combing the building to find her. Still, this claustrophobic, musty ventilation shaft was possibly the safest place in the entire complex for someone like her. Still, it only bought her time. As long as she was in this network, she could move unseen, for however long that would take.

“Well now,” a voice echoed through the vent, one she’d heard before. It couldn’t be, she thought. She kept crawling, reaching an L in the shaft that she had to pull herself to the top of. Someone was talking, she just couldn’t make out what it was. Too many noises, but it was there, on the edge of her senses. Slowly, she inched along. Every movement felt too loud, too obvious, as though one wrong move and someone would reach straight through the floor to grab her.

Following the sound through cobwebs and grime, it came into focus, and at long last, she reached a new grate overlooking a small, barren room, just a table and two chairs. It was bathed in red, no doubt from the sirens before. In one of the chairs sat a man, head down, long hair draped over his face, but from his metal hand, Beck instantly knew. It was Eli.

“Seems your friend is having a grand ol’ time, so I’m told.” That voice again. Dodds. He walked into view and leaned against a wall next to Eli, arms crossed, looking on with a grin. Just seeing him, Beck felt her fists clench, a white hot rage returning within her. “We’ve been doing this for quite a while. Got to say, I’m impressed. Most people would’ve broken by now, spilled something. For a street punk with no training, you’ve got balls.”

Eli didn’t look up, didn’t move at all. Instead, he spat onto the ground, right onto the man’s shoes. Beck was uneasy to see it stained red. “Right, right, big tough guy ‘n all. We’ve been through a lot the past couple hours and I’m sure you’re getting awful tired of seeing my ugly mug. I know I’m certainly tired of yours,” the man snickered, pushing up his glasses, “but I want my paycheck, damn it. So, I figured we’d switch things up. Give you something else to look at. Don’t go anywhere now, I want you awake for what comes next.”

The man walked out of sight, footsteps growing distant before the sound of a scraping door opening, closing, then silence. This was her chance. Beck held her breath, jimmying open the vent before slowly, painfully swinging it open, peeking her head inside the room. No guards in sight. Head first, she swung downward, hanging for a precious few seconds before letting go, landing just behind Eli’s chair.

“Eli?” There was no response, his head hung low. “Hey, hey wake up man,” quickly, she rounded the chair, kneeling in front of her friend to see his face. One of his eyes was swollen black, a trickle of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Eli, please, come on. What the fuck did they do to you?”

His eyelids flickered open weakly, revealing the bloodshot orbs underneath. “Beck?”

“Hey!” Quickly, she removed her helmet, setting it on the ground, “it’s me. I’m here.”

“Beck, you came back.” For a moment, Eli’s pain seemed to melt away. He smiled wide, his eyes watery, and Beck was heartbroken to see a tooth on the right side of his mouth was missing. On impulse, she gave him a hug, and for a few seconds, the two of them seemed to forget the awful world around them. That was, until Eli turned tense. “Oh God, you came back. You need to hide, now! Dodds is coming back and-”

“Nevermind Dodds, I’m getting you out of these cuffs.” Quickly, she swiveled to the other side of the chair. “Is this room soundproof?”

“Yeah, I think so?”

“Good,” she drew her pistol and fired into the handcuffs, shattering them. Eli flinched, swearing with surprise, but felt relief being able to move his hands again. She kicked the remains under the table, but before “Okay, where’s Alex?”

He turned his neck to face her, concerned, “wait, you didn’t find him first?”

“No? I thought you knew where he was?” They were interrupted when the door handle across the room began to turn, scaring them both half to death. Eli placed his hands back where they were, but Beck was already in the open, no place to hide. Her cover was blown again.

The door scraped open, and there was Dodds, standing halfway inside the doorway, keeping part of his body obscured.  “Oh, I see. Well isn’t this a fun little reunion?”

The two of them stared the man down, unsure what to do, before Beck pointed her pistol at the man, demanding, “where the hell is Alex?”

“The cyborg kid?” He seemed completely unfazed by the gun, “well, he’s right here of course!” He stepped to the side, and there was Alex, being yanked by the cable implant in his neck. He was hyperventilating, shaking mess, the three foot wire wrapped halfway around his throat. Dodds pushed him into the room, using him as a human shield.

“No!” Eli shouted, “leave them out of this! It’s me you want!”
“Oh we’re long past that now. I brought in the kid to try and get some info out of you, but now? The gang’s all here!” He gestured to the room, happy as can be. With his other hand, he yanked hard on the cable and Alex winced, fingers clawing at his neck.

“Stop! Stop it!” Beck cried, and Dodds lessened his grip, allowing Alex to breathe again.

“So here’s what we’re going to do, okay?” Lightning fast, he pulled the gun from a holster at his side. “You’re going to put down the gun, I’m going to cuff you, and then the both of you are going to tell me everything you know about The Dryad Army, or the kid gets it.” He yanked again for emphasis. Alex cringed again.

“Alright! Just don’t hurt him,” she pleaded. Dodds pointed the gun at her, motioning to the floor. Slowly, she got to one knee, holding up a hand while placing the pistol on the floor.

“Come on, hurry it up, I don’t have all day, lady.” Dodds’s gun drifted, just slightly. That was all they needed.

“Now!” Moving as one, Eli and Beck sprung to the table, quickly lifting and flipping it onto Dodds. He was taken aback, firing wildly, but the shots bounced off the metal table. Eli ducked off to the left, grabbing Alex while Beck moved to the right, wrestling with the Sergeant’s gun. While the two of them fought, Eli and Alex darted out of the room, disappearing into the red hallway outside.

“You son of a!” Dodds kneed her in the stomach. With her armor, it didn’t do much of anything, but he used the momentum to stomp his foot down in the gap between her legs and throw her off balance. Beck fell against the wall, dodging another gunshot by sliding down, yanking his gun hand with her. She placed her foot against the wall and charged, pushing him back just enough to dive out the door, Dodds firing wildly just behind.

The outside was another tunnel, red lights swirling across the walls. Eli and Alex were running, halfway down the hall. Beck followed after in a full sprint, but before she could get far, the tunnel started closing up. A large metallic door descended from the ceiling. No no no no no! She couldn’t make it this time, coming to a stop right as it hit the floor. “No!”

“Beck!” She could hear their voices from the other side of the wall.

“Just go! I’ll find another way out,” she lied through her teeth. Turning around, she noticed an identical door coming down at the other end of the hall, sealing her inside. Dodds walked out of the interrogation room, kicking the door closed behind him. One of the lenses of his glasses was gone, and he tossed the frames over one shoulder, revealing the hideous scars where his eyes should’ve been, and the gray orbs that’d taken their place. Cracking his neck, he moved to the middle of the hallway before facing her.

“You like our security measures? Courtesy of the Observer,” he held up his pistol, disassembling it in front of her before dropping the pieces to the floor. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, Beck. The name is Dodds. You’re the little punk that took out a full patrol of my men, and for that, I’m not going to need a gun for what I’m going to do.” Kneeling to the ground, he pulled a large knife from a sheathe on his leg, brandishing it.

Horrified, Beck realized she was trapped. There was no way she stood a chance in a hand to hand brawl, not unarmed. The Sergeant advanced towards her, and in a blind panic she darted for the nearest room, just off to her left. Crashing through the door, the red lights switched on and she found herself in another laboratory. She whirled around, attempting to bar the door, but Dodds had already stuck his arm in the door, grabbing for her. With a scream, she bit down on the man, and he swore, allowing her to slam the door shut.

It bought her a precious few seconds. There was nothing she could use to barricade it further. Out of desperation, she did the only thing she could think to do: kill the lights. Beakers littered the countertops throughout the lab, and she began to smash the ceiling lights. In the glass rain that followed, she quickly grabbed one last beaker as a weapon. With what little she could see in the room, Beck hunkered down behind one of the lab counters, iron grip on the beaker, hand across her mouth. Not a sound.

With a shoulder charge, the door gave way, red light flooding into the room from the outside. Dodds, a dark silhouette in the entrance, resembled a demon more than a man. “I don’t think you understand, punk. My eyes see everything, even in the dark. I’ll find you.” Closing the door, he’d robbed her of the little light she had left. Dodds went about his grim task, stalking around the room. 

Beck heard his footsteps growing closer, the crunching of glass beneath his heavy boots. Slowly, she maneuvered around the table to the other side. He was above her now, even a blind man could’ve felt his presence, just a foot away. Dodds stood still and scanned the room, head on a swivel, waiting for her to slip up. The beaker grew sweaty in her grip. Beck held her breath. Three… two…

“There you are.” Dodds came down with a downward slash of his knife. Beck sprang from her hiding place, screaming, wildly swinging the glass beaker in the air, but she’d lost track of him. He could see her clear as day. With a kick, she was knocked backwards into another counter, hearing her beaker shatter on the ground. Through sheer luck, Beck cried out as she caught the Sergeant’s knife, trying to wrestle it from the man, but she was failing. It was slipping through her grip.

“End of the line,” he taunted. The knife was coming closer, struggling inches from her face. Beck shut her eyes, and as her mind searched for a way out, she heard a new noise: a distant, smashing noise, but from where she couldn’t tell. As she continued to fight off Dodds, it grew louder, and louder, until-

CRASH.

The ceiling across the room, exposing the floor above. The sudden intrusion caused Dodds to hesitate. Beck slammed her head into his. Her vision exploded with stars and the man grunted, stumbling back, allowing her to slip from his grasp. Something rose from amidst the debris, a shadow.

“You,” came a guttural growl as old as the land itself. A mountainous figure stood atop the rubble, a wall of fur and muscle draped in a cloak of moss. The Woodsman had returned.

“You made it,” Beck rasped, exasperated and grateful at the same time.

“What in the goddamn?” Sergeant Dodds had never encountered something like the beast. For the first time in what Beck must’ve imagined was a long time, he knew fear. Dodds scrambled for the exit to the room, but Beck wouldn’t let him go so easy. As the Woodsman advanced, she waved blindly for a piece of lab equipment, landing on a microscope, which she tossed. The instrument struck the man in the back of the skull and he fell to the ground.

The Woodsman spared no time in its attack. It strode right past Beck and grabbed onto the soldier’s leg, which to her surprise, detached with a soft shunk. The creature held up the implant, curiously inspecting its craftsmanship while Dodds pitifully and painfully crawled along the floor in terror. Eventually, it tossed it over its shoulder, and with one long, powerful arm it snatched the man by his flak jacket. Effortlessly, he was lifted off the ground, yelling in fright.

The creature turned the man to face him, and Dodds lashed out with his knife. Beck flinched seeing the attack, but his arm was caught by The Woodsman’s furry hand. The man screamed as the arm was crushed in the creature’s grip, and the knife clattered to the ground. It sniffed the soldier, baring its teeth, and from her place by its side, she could smell its foul breath.

“W-what the hell are you?” He demanded, but it was met by a low rumbling snarl.

“Puny man,” was all it said, and The Woodsman threw the man like a ragdoll, sending him straight through the door of the laboratory and out into the hall, colliding with a sickening crack against the tunnel wall. A pipe that’d spanned the tunnel’s length snapped on impact, sending steam along the floor. Beck looked on and saw the soldier gasping for breath, his body broken and bruised.

“Dodds face wrath,” it muttered.

Beck moved to the creature’s side, looking up at it To her surprise, it didn’t seem to be hurt, only a few scratches on its face, more scars to add to the collection. “How did you not get seen by anybody?”

“Cameras do not see all. Do not see me. Never have.” It turned its head to inspect her, lifting its arm and pointing at her face, “hurt.”

Beck touched her face, only to realize the head butt maneuver had sprung a geyser of blood inside her nose. “Oh, yeah I guess I am. It was worth it though.” The two of them watched as Dodds started to move again. “He’s still alive.”

“I correct this,” it growled. The two of them walked across the lab and through the door into the red tunnel. Dodds was crawling, leaving a bloody trail behind him in his wake. He was up against the metal door that’d sealed him inside.

“O…O-Observer!” Dodds banged on the metal door, staring into the lens of a security camera in the corner of the tunnel. Without another word, the door slid upwards by a few feet, and several sets of arms reached through, dragging Dodds across the threshold before the barrier came down once more, sealing them in once again.

Then, suddenly two people fell from the hole made by The Woodsman. The monster rushed back inside, ready to pounce, and Alex shriveled into himself upon seeing the creature. Eli screamed, trying to shield him, before Beck jumped in to intervene.

“Wait! Stop! They’re friendly! They’re with me!” Beck waved her arms, calling out to the monster. The Woodsman, unamused, gave her a begrudging side eye in response. Eli was mortified, looking at her with a bewildered expression. “Stop, he’s been through enough.”

The creature set Eli on the ground, and he backed further away. Alex didn’t respond. He looked onto the creature with something akin to wonder, or curiosity. “What is that?”

Beck wasn’t sure how to explain, “this is The Woodsman. They’re on our side.”

A few minutes later, the four were walking down the opposite length of the tunnel, pried open with the Woodsman’s might. It was a strange, uneasy walk, knowing that at any moment they could be assaulted by drones or another set of guards. Still, that wouldn’t stop Eli’s incessant questioning. “So let me get this straight; you’re THE Bigfoot?”

           The beast let out an annoyed sigh, “yes. Many names.”

           Beck chimed in, “It saved me from the DIRE mercs after you two got captured. Then, we broke in, and now we’re here. We’ve been over this.”

           “I just found out magic is real, sue me if I’m a little interested.”

             Beck glanced over at Alex, trailing along quietly behind them. He’d been silent for the most part, just staring at the floor as he walked. She decided to check on him, “you okay?”

             He looked up, his lenses flickering for a moment. “Yeah,” he whispered, “it was just really scary. Are you sure we’re safe for now?”

             Beck tugged on one of The Woodsman’s giant fingers. “Hey, can you smell anyone else down here? Anything that could be a threat?”

           It lifted its nose, sniffing the air, before stopping in its tracks, lifting a fist to signal to the others. “Something coming.”

           “Shit,” Eli and Beck lifted their respective rifles, taken from the fallen guards. “Which direction?”

          It pointed down the hall, hunching down to be lower to the ground. The end of the hall was a closed elevator, but the light above it indicated someone was coming down. The Woodsman bared its teeth, and the two of them raised their rifles. Beck had never fired one of these before. Even with Eli’s instructions, this would be a challenge. Alex got behind The Woodsman’s massive form. They were ready.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and a group of heavily armed mercenaries flooded out. They were too far to get close, and too armored for range. Immediately, the group cut their losses. “Run!” Eli shouted, before abruptly being yanked by The Woodsman. Beck grabbed a hold of its cloak, and the beast hauled a shaking Alex onto its shoulder. The beast took off back down the tunnel, carrying the Dryads with it, holding on for dear life amidst a hail of bullets. 

The metal doors returned, closing behind them; another attempt by The Observer to trap them. “Head for the hole in the ceiling!” Beck cried. They burst through the laboratory doors and The Woodsman leapt upwards through the hole it came from. “Do you know where the atrium is? Big circle with a tower!”

The creature bounded out of the room and down the hall. They were followed by security cameras, but The Woodsman’s speed was able to keep up with the seemingly never ending doors closing down on them. As they went, Beck tried to map out where they were from the surroundings. Things started looking familiar. She pointed at an oncoming directory sign, “there! Tunnel marked in green!”

It dodged to the right, and before long they burst into the panopticon, now in chaos. The watchtower, The Observer’s hideaway,  with drones, encircling the tower like a tornado of steel. When the group entered, they all turned, and Beck felt the electricity in the air begin to grow. The prisoners were panicking, scared, yet unable to leave their cells amidst the constant sirens and blaring red lights. “Hold on,” the creature bellowed, and as the Dryads held on for dear life, The Woodsman jumped straight upwards, landing on the fourth floor walkway with ease.

The impact caused Alex to slip, landing hard on his side. “God damn it,” Beck dropped as well, grabbing hold of him and pulling, but she was struggling. Eli dropped as well, helping, but they were too far from the door. The Woodsman turned around, noticing. The drones were about to let loose, Tesla beams nearly at full charge. They were too late. Beck closed her eyes, held her friends close, and they fired.

There was the sound of thunder, and a gust of smoke, yet when Beck opened her eyes, she was okay. The three looked up, and The Woodsman was above them, holding the torn off tower door over its head as a shield. It had saved them. “Move!” it grunted. The drones started charging up again, and they all clambered to their feet and piled inside the tower.

“How! How did you get past my drones?” The Dryads looked to the ceiling of the tower and The Observer descended from the ceiling, wires snaking and twisting as he went.

Eli held up his weapon, aiming it directly at The Observer, “let the prisoners go. We’re not asking twice.”

“You think I’d risk something like that? If you don’t kill me, the Sergeant will.” Suddenly, The Woodsman entered the room. “What is that?!” Without another word, the creature reached up and snagged The Observer by the leg, tearing him from his mechanical harness. Wires and cables snapped, and sparks flew as he was tossed screaming out of the tower. In terror, The Observer plummeted to the ground below, landing with a splat. Beck watched the monitors around her, and the drones, all at once, switched off, dropping out of the sky and clattering to the ground, lifeless. 

“Good riddance,” Beck muttered, but Eli wasn’t as enthusiastic, looking at the monster.

“Why did you do that? How are we going to get them open now?”

“Stalling,” it replied, “more threats approaching.” The Woodsman planted the door back in its place, holding it shut, and the Dryads watched as the battalion of guards they’d evaded before caught up with them, encircling the balconies of the panopticon, guns trained on the tower they were now trapped inside. 

Alex spoke up, “I know what to do.”

“Are you sure?” Beck put a hand on his shoulder, but he swiped it off.

“Yes, I’m sick of this place. I just want to get this over with. Let me plug into The Observer’s rig, and I’ll handle this.”

Eli watched the monitors giving a view of the outside. The mercenaries were placing something at the base of the tower. They were planning to blow it apart. He looked at Beck, “we don’t have much of a choice right now. Plug him in, or we’re all going out.”

As The Woodsman looked on, Alex strapped the mechanism’s claw arm around his waist, taking The Observer’s headset of wires from where it dangled in the air, placing it atop his head. Beck took the cable implant, and let out a deep breath, plugging it into the headset. Immediately, Alex’s body went limp, and he was lifted into the air.

Without another word, the drones whirled back to life. Eli and Beck watched as the mercenaries began to panic, shooting into the air wildly, but as Alex moved his hands, the drones began to swarm, swirling, charging up again. They fired, and in a flash of light the soldiers were dispatched in one foul swoop. All across the facility, the drones turned on the prison’s keepers, wiping out the last of the DIRE mercenaries within The Brig. The balconies outside the tower became littered with them, convulsing, their muscles unable to function. They’d recover. Maybe.

“No more Brig,” Alex’s voice fizzled through the speakers in the tower, and floor by floor, the plexiglass holding the prisoners in place slid back, and the rioting began. Some bolted for the elevator, others decided to take their revenge on the guards that’d kept them hostage so long. Beck looked on at the carnage, people pushing past one another for the freedom they craved so long. She knew this was the right thing to do, nobody deserved to be here. She just hoped they’d be okay in the end.

“No more White Oak Site,” came the voice again, and the drones swarmed out of the atrium, and the monitors shifted again, showing them the surface. Through the eyes of the cameras throughout the facility, they all watched as the drones swarmed out of the hangar, and into the oil fields beyond. They started to overload themselves, the entirety of the site’s drone population exploding themselves onto the dozens of oil jacks dotting the wasteland outside. Before long, the oil had stopped flowing, and the land was engulfed in flames.

Beck looked up at The Woodsman, who looked on with a stoic glare. “Are you okay? Is this what you wanted?”

“Lightning hit forest, cause fire,” it grumbled, “forest regrow. Land heals. This too will pass.” She looked into its eyes, and in the moment, she saw a tension that was there before had disappeared, like a great burden had finally been lifted.

Alex came back down, the claw mechanism releasing, and Beck took off his headset for him. “How are you feeling,” she asked.

“Good, I think. It felt good.”

The Woodsman knelt down, looking Alex at eye level. He seemed intimidated at first, but instead, it stuck out a finger, and touched him on his heart. “You are computer druid. Thank you.” Alex didn’t know what to say, and gave the creature a nod.

“You’re a legend now, man.” Eli shook him by the shoulders, much to Alex’s dismay. “Once the people clear out, we’ll head to the surface and get out of here.”

It took a while, but once the prisoners had made for the exit, and the atrium had quieted down, the Dryads made for the exit. The ride up was cramped, with The Woodsman taking up most of the room. Eli talked first. “Hey, I wanted to apologize… for the heist.”

“Don’t,” Beck put up a hand, “you couldn’t have known any of that.”

“Still, I should’ve been more cautious. I rushed everyone in, I ignored red flags, and now two of us are dead. If you don’t trust me, or want to leave, then-”

“I didn’t risk my life trying to save yours to tell you off. This group is all I’ve got left. I’m not leaving you guys for the world.”

Alex looked up from the floor, “that goes for me too. I want to help people. You two have helped me. I want to stick with this group.”

“Forgiveness?” Beck stuck out her hand. Eli glanced at it, before Alex did the same, placing his on top of Beck’s.

Eventually, he relented, “forgiveness.”

The elevator reached the top floor. The hangar was a shell of the bustling industrial site it once was, now abandoned. Equipment and work vehicles littered the building, smoke billowing in from the fields outside.  “The workers must’ve evacuated when the drones bombed the fields,” Beck said. “Maybe there’s a truck left that we can take?”

“Something wrong,” the monster declared, sniffing the air again. Beck turned, and her eyes widened. A dark shadow had emerged from the smoke, standing fifteen feet tall, towering over even The Woodsman. A mechanical giant. Dodds.

“We’re not done yet.” He said, flashing a wicked grin from behind the hardened glass of his cockpit. He sat inside one of the exosuits used by the workers, towering over the group. His leg had been replaced with a crude, metal stump, yet from within the cockpit his movements still translated to the exosuit. He stepped closer, mechanical legs whirring and buzzing as he went. “Forget the money! After tonight, DIRE International is never getting another corporate contract again. Now, I just want to kill you all.”
All eyes turned to The Woodsman, lumbering through the smoke. It reached to its shoulder and tossed away its cloak of plants, revealing the dark brown fur beneath. With a mighty roar it beat its chest, its ape-man face carved by rage. Dodds seemed amused, raising his mechanical arms. The beast charged, bounding across the hangar floor and slamming into the suit and the two began to trade blows, while the Dryads scattered to the far corners of the hangar.

The Woodsman ducked out of the way of the man’s giant swing, using its body to charge directly into the cockpit’s glass, causing it to spiderweb with cracks. Before it could continue pummeling, Dodds caught its arm. The suit’s waist circled 360 degrees, carrying the torso and The Woodsman with it, throwing it across the room and into the wall of the hangar, causing the whole building to shake. Unrelenting, he advanced on the beast, slamming his fist into the wall, but the monster ducked, wrestling the arm of the exosuit to the floor, climbing onto the machine.

“No you don’t,” Dodds gritted his teeth, bracing for another blow from both of the monster’s giant hands. The glass held firm, and on its next attack, the machine reached up to snare its leg. Pushing himself up, Dodds dragged The Woodsman along the floor, who yelled in pain as it went. The soldier slammed it into the floor, then again, before tossing it far up into the air. It landed amid the catwalks of the hangar. Grabbing hold of the railing, the beast yanked the metal free, forming a makeshift spear, before launching itself back down to the floor, howling like a wild animal. The spear went straight through the exosuit’s arm, but with its other arm, The Woodsman fell right into a punch, knocking the wind from its lungs, and the Dodds broke the spear, discarding it.

The Woodsman leapt across the room. Skidding to a stop next to a pile of barrels, it began tossing them. The first one was empty, just bouncing off the exosuit. The second dented the glass again, and by the third barrel Dodds had a false sense of security, lumbering towards the monster, careless. That was, until the third barrel, which upon contact combusted in the soldier’s face, causing a fireball. The suit was damaged, but when the smoke cleared, the man just barely had the time to catch the forklift thrown at him, barely stopping the forks from piercing directly into the cockpit. “Come on, this is nothing!” He tossed it to the side, crumpling the vehicle.

The monster fell onto all fours, snarling and gnashing its teeth. With a gallop, it threw itself at the exosuit, tackling into it. They clashed, and there was a brief war of strength. The two locked eyes. The Woodsman was struggling, but Dodds couldn’t have been more delighted. With a primal roar, the monster bent the steel of the arms, stunning the exosuit for just a moment, long enough for it to attempt a dropkick. Flying through the air, the suit caught the beast by the legs and threw it into another shipping container, sending it right through the metal. The Woodsman punched right back out through the container door, but it was clearly wounded, clutching its shoulder and breathing heavily. “Do your worst,” it grumbled, to which Dodds put up his mechanical arms again. It launched at the suit, but was blindsided by another punch.

Beck couldn’t stand by and watch. Even The Woodsman couldn’t keep this up for very long. Dodds straddled the creature, grabbing hold of the creature with the machine’s still working arm and raising it up. “What a peculiar thing you are,” he sneered, “maybe once we stuff you, we’ll stick you in a museum with the other relics. It’d make a hell of an attraction. Maybe I’d get more money for proving you even exist.”

That was it. Relics. Beck remembered what she saw in the cave; relics of the old world, of The Woodsman’s old ways. She got an idea. It was a longshot, but it could work. How hard could it be to harness the fundamental forces of the universe? Beck spotted the spear, surely that would work. She ran across the room, snatching up the spear as she went. As Dodds began to crush the monster’s ribs, she began carving sigils in the floor, the ones she’d seen in the firepit so long ago. She racked her mind, carving the runes needed to complete the spell. Her circle would need to be far bigger for this to work. Alex shouted from his hiding place, “what are you doing?”

“Something really stupid,” she called back. She stood back, double checking the marks, crude as they were. The Woodsman was beginning to go limp. Dodds had never looked so happy, taking glee in crushing the life out of its body. She tried as hard as she could to recall the words, “Croshnak? Krishna? Come on, come on!”

Suddenly, it hit her. She held up her hand, and with all her might shouted, “Krshniglcht.” Beck felt as though she’d been struck by lightning. She felt this force within her move from her to within the circle, and it ignited. A column of flame erupted from within the circle and into the ceiling. The preserved jet, left in storage, was split in half from the force of the flames. The Woodsman, horrified and using the last of its strength, put both its feet against the glass and kicked, freeing itself from the soldier’s grasp. Dodds stumbled back, and looked up to see the chains suspending the jet in the air come loose, and he cried out in rage as the back half landed directly on top of him. Beck felt lost, staring into the fire, until she was tackled from the side, and the spell ceased, leaving nought but smoke in its wake.

It was Eli, shaking her, “it’s done! You can stop now!” He was right. Beck looked over, and the dust cleared. The Woodsman got off the ground, grunting with pain and no doubt suffering from broken bones, but not dead. Alex crawled out from behind a stack of barrels and ran over to look at the damage. There wasn’t any movement from the machine, lying limp beneath the hulking fighter jet. That was, until they heard a noise.

“He’s still alive,” Beck said, and the three began walking over. The glass cockpit had shattered. The body of Sergeant Dodds was underneath, crushed by both his exosuit and the plane, unable to move. He coughed blood, watching upside down as the three advanced on him.

“You… get lost.”

“We already won, you bastard,” Beck affirmed.

Dodds coughed again, wheezing, through his injuries, “Kerras won’t let this go.”

“Probably not,” Eli chimed in, “but neither will we.”

“Why don’t you go… and tell him yourself?”

Beck’s mind halted, realizing Dodds wasn’t looking at them, but past them. Through one of the windows in the hangar, there was a large tower. Before now, it’d blended in with the smokestacks and pipework of the White Oak Site, but with Dodds’s smile, she thought of something. She looked back at the dying mercenary, “Warren Kerras? The CEO of Kerras Energies Incorporated? He’s here?”

He looked at her, and smiled with bloodied teeth, “sure.”

“This is for Mia and Solomon, you son of a bitch,” Eli took a gun and, with the click of a trigger, Sergeant Dodds was no more. He looked over at Beck, but she wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. “Hey, don’t think about that. He was just getting inside your head.”

She looked up at the tower, then The Woodsman. “Do you see someone up there?”

It looked, focusing its eyes, before declaring, “yes.”

That was all she needed. Beck took off, Alex and Eli calling out from behind. She ran, ran as fast as she could, picking up a rifle off the ground as she went. This could be her moment, she thought. The Woodsman didn’t chase her, despite the pleading of her friends, so she continued on, through the ghost town that was now the White Oak Site. When she finally reached the glass doors of the tower, she shot them open. The recoil was enormous, but she didn’t care, stepping through the gap. The lobby had an elevator at the end, and fortunately for her, the keycard was all she needed to get in. She heard her friend’s distant shouts to come back, that it didn’t matter, but she had her sights set on a singular goal.

The elevator doors closed, and she was alone, taking the lift all the way to the penthouse floor. The back wall of the elevator was a mirror, and she looked at herself. She carried a rifle, she wore DIRE mercenary armor, and her face was coated with blood. A lot of blood. It’d all be worth it, in the end, so she told herself. This was what she signed up for, right? Revenge. She’d finally get the payback she always wanted.

The elevator dinged, and she turned around, weapon in hand and aimed in front of her. The penthouse floor was an office. A very nice, wood paneled office, to her surprise. She expected security, she expected retaliation, but she received none of it. Instead, before a wall to wall glass window, was a man sitting in a leather chair behind a wide, oakwood desk, pouring himself a shot. “Welcome. Care for a drink?”

Bewildered, she saw movement, and quickly turned, only to see one of the boxy, four legged drones that’d chased her through the woods. Only now, instead of a deadly tesla beam gun, it carried a silver plate of martini glasses, smelling of alcohol. She inspected the man behind the desk; an older man with salt and pepper hair and wireframe glasses. He wore a blue suit and tie, and had a smile that looked strained. 

“You’re not Warren Kerras,” she said, gun trained on the man.

“Oh, is that what Dodds told you? Even to the end, that man was a piece of human garbage.You know, never did like the guy but hey his company came highly regarded,” he knocked back the shot of liquor and placed the glass on the table. “Nope, I’m Liam Kerras, his second cousin. He put me in charge of this place. Got to say, it’s nice to see the person responsible for tearing this place a new one.”

“Why the hell are you drinking? Your entire place is trashed. Why haven’t you left yet?”
“What’s the point?” He muttered, swiveling back and forth in his chair, “you already destroyed it. You think I’m coming back from this? No no no no no no no, I’m screwed either way. So, to your health.” The drone walked over to Liam, and he plucked a glass from its plate, taking a sip. “While I’m here, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Cut the shit, what are you planning?”

“Lady, I’m going to be drowning in paperwork, lawsuits, and financial debt by tomorrow afternoon, and you think I’m plotting? No. Right now, the only thing I’m planning is my retirement speech. So, you want corporate secrets? I’ll give ‘em.”

Beck was confused. He seemed far too cool for someone being held at gun point. At the same time, there was something she’d been wondering, something in the back of her head she couldn’t let go of since she saw it. “We’re the ones who tried to hijack your truck. What was the prototype? What were you doing with the people in that prison? What is this place really for?”

He looked at her, and his smile dropped. Without looking away, he poured another shot, knocking it back before talking. “Alright, so you’re in the Dryad Army. Fun. So you’re the ones protesting all our oil drilling efforts, and all that. Well, I’m pleased to announce something: we’re stopping our drilling soon. Relatively soon, maybe the next fifty years or so.” Beck looked on, confused as to where he was going with this.

“We’re running out of oil,” he explained, “everywhere. We’ve had a good run, but turns out they don’t call them ‘nonrenewable’ for nothing. The well’s going dry. For the last five or so years, Kerras Inc. has been panicking. In our desperation, we had to take some ‘measures.’” Liam lifted a remote and clicked a button. Beck turned, expecting some kind of turret or weapon, but instead, it activated a tv screen.

“It doesn’t have a name as of now, but the device you and your nature buddies tried to steal was informally referred to as a ‘Soul Engine’ by our scientists. Turns out, when all science fails, resorting to the mystic arts helps.” The screen depicted test footage of a device, not dissimilar in appearance to the prototype machine they’d tried to steal. The footage showed a group of mice, in a small room with the machine. It activated, whirling to life, energy pulsating, and the mice began to age rapidly, withering and cringing until they crumbled into themselves. Then, a second machine, a generator, powered on, fueled by the Soul Engine.

Beck was mortified, turning back to Liam, “You started using magic? Why?”

“Well, we had to compete somehow!” He threw up his hands, “I don’t know, I wasn’t on the board meeting to decide these things, but I have to admit, it definitely comes with its perks.” He clicked the remote again, and a series of graphs popped up, “get this. Zero emissions. Totally clean energy. All it requires is something living. That’s all, and we’d get years worth of safe energy, all for the masses. It’s almost perfect.”

She shook the gun, “Oh my God, you were testing this on all those people, weren’t you? You’re a monster!” Beck wanted to fire on him right then and there, but he lifted a hand.

“Now, I will admit: it was barbaric. This wasn’t my first choice, but they signed the paperwork. I’m not the one responsible for the debt program, and I’m certainly not responsible for it being legal. Everything here was legal. Wake up, lady, our government’s not the best right now. I’m just playing the system as it’s meant to be played.”

Beck wanted to argue with his point, but she couldn’t. The world she lived in was not a good place, and she knew this. Instead, she pivoted to his other insinuation, “this magic technology goes out to the public, you want to use this on human beings?”

Liam looked mortified, “no! Of course not! God, no humans. Just… other things. Plants, maybe. You know how much algae there is? We could use that. There’s plenty of biomass out there that isn’t human. It’s a small price for clean energy, and it’s going to be one of our few options once the oil situation comes to light.”

She tried to keep focus, “well, what about when all of that runs out? How long until we run out of trees? How long until we run out and we get desperate all over again?”

Liam pondered her words, swirling the liquor in his glass. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, it’s not going to for a while.”

Beck was flabbergasted, “what do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

“Look. Hundreds of years before you or I were born, humans played God and set itself into a cycle. We start polluting the world looking at the short term. You think that cycle’s going to stop any time soon? Nah. It’ll keep going round and round ‘til we’re all dead.”

“You are the one perpetuating that cycle.”

“Well, it’s not my fault I was born into one of the wealthiest families on Earth. I was handed the perfect life on a silver platter, did you expect me to ignore it? You honestly wanted me to reject a path in life that most people would kill for? Yeah, maybe I’m perpetuating a cycle. If I don’t, someone else will.” He stood up from his chair, walking to the corner of his desk, knocking back his glass again and dropping it to the floor, where it shattered. “I’m not a monster, lady. I’m just a capitalist. If you’re going to shoot me, just do it already.”

The elevator dinged again, and Beck turned around. Eli and Alex walked out of the elevator. Eli spoke first, holding out his hands, “Beck, you don’t have to shoot this guy.”

She was taken aback, “have you lost your mind? You just shot Dodds, this guy’s worse!”

He agreed, “yeah, but it’s not going to do anything. Dodds had to die. His company is gone. Shooting this guy, he’s just going to get replaced.”

Alex chimed in, “Beck, I downloaded all the data from their experiments on the prisoners. This could destroy Kerras’s reputation for good. This is a game changer.”

“Oh, look at that,” Liam spoke up, slurring his words, “more reasons Warren can stick my head on a pike. God, how’d I end up in this shitshow…”

Beck turned back around, “shut up! Just shut up, you monstrous bastard!”

“You don’t have to do this,” Eli said, “we have what we need. We can punish him another way. Let him suffer his own consequences. Doing this is just going to bring more heat to us. It’s pointless, he’s already ruined.” Beck wanted to shut him out. Her finger grew closer on the trigger, and Liam looked at her without a care, drunk out of his mind by now. She shut her eyes, ready to do it, until Eli said one last thing, “Beck, this won’t bring your mom back.”

She opened her eyes. Was that what all this was about? Revenge? The gun was shaking, and before she knew it, Eli’s hands lowered the rifle. Her resolve broke, and she dropped the gun. For so long, without even thinking about it, the memory of her mom had fueled her anger. She’d hated the Kerras corporation for as long as she could remember, and now, she couldn’t do it. A tear threatened to drop from her eye, but she wiped it away, looking up at Liam.

“Great,” Liam said, “glad to know you’ve doomed me to all the paperwork in the universe. I’m really going to enjoy the corporate panelists hounding me the rest of my life.”

“No,” she looked past the man, at one of the towers outside. There was a dark shape climbing it. “It’s not them you have to worry about.”

The Woodsman came crashing through the window, and Liam fell over himself in shock. “What the hell is that thing? Oh God, help me! Shoot it!”

The monster looked onto the man with rage and pity, snaring him by the leg and holding him upside down. It bared its teeth, scaring him even more. When it was done, it slung the man over his shoulder, holding him there while he whined and pleaded. 

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Punishment. He learn error of ways. I make sure of it. Thank you, for help.”

Beck didn’t reply, instead giving the beast a hug. It didn’t react at first, but eventually, it patted her on the head. She retracted, walking back to the others. “Let’s go,” she said, “we need to get out of here.”

The three walked back to the elevator, watching as The Woodsman leapt out the window from once it came, carrying the Kerras man with it. “So, what do we do now?” Eli pressed the button to the bottom floor, flashing some keys he’d taken at some point along the way.

“I don’t know,” Beck said, watching the doors close, “what else is out there?”

THE END.