Chapter 17-450: It’s Not Home, But It’ll Do... (1/2)

Even with Teleportations and superhuman speed and logistical planning, there was no way to invade the entire Felldeep and the Strata below it overnight... especially when violence started erupting.

On the other hand, when violence erupted, having Sevens through Tens being there to receive it generally meant it resolved pretty fast.

They were punching into the Strata under North America, and already finding stuff they didn’t want to, which was par for the course. The cephalids in particular, if not numerous, were spread far more widely than anyone was comfortable with.

There were very, very few instances of running across anything friendly on the way down. Humans were food, livestock, slave labor, or spare bodies to swap down there, and most of the races had absolutely no hesitation in trying to enforce that paradigm on the explorers going down there.

The explorers had no hesitation in enforcing extinction back on them. The Templars had made it very obvious that messing around with the genetics from these things put you under the control of them or the Entities backing them. Plagues were still racing across the world, mind-controlled terrorists were still blowing up bridges and dams... but the sources of them on the surface and below were being hunted down now, and healing magic was warring with the plagues, strengthening the population to resist, building immunity that was only going to help more on the far end.

When the Shroud fell, dark gods were coming, and that meant more of this shit. You fought, or you wound up in a ditch.

But sometimes, you took a break.

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Thanksgiving Day at the home of Hank Blakhamar was as raucous and cheerful as ever, spilling out into the nearby streets with the numbers of family and comrades who didn’t have family present.

It didn’t matter, as there was food enough for everyone, and the cooks making it so made sure it was Damn Good Food, too.

This was not a highbrow home, and so wrestling contests, arm-wrestling, beer sampling, extremely muscular men doing extremely awkward and funny things, extremely strong women throwing said men around, and kids running everywhere excitedly to see what was up as songs spontaneously broke out, one chasing the other around the place, were just part of the atmosphere.

But when it came time to set down for the shared meal, there was discipline, and there was quiet.

---

Sama watched Briggs sort of straighten his collar with amusement. “Hey, it’s not like you haven’t met them before.”

His violet eyes glanced down at her. “Hey, permit the great warlord and future emperor of the world to be nervous around the dad of his fiancée.”

There had been a lot of people who had up and volunteered for Shroud-hunting, getting stronger, getting Levels.

That had included the entire Piotrowski Clan. Karen and Darren Piotrowski had left their jobs in Detroit, put their belongings into storage, and went out and started shooting undead. Their kids, still unmarried, had joined them, all of them having done their Service by then. Josiah mustered out after a second tour of duty to take charge for them all, with Nancy, William, and Jill all quickly arriving to help out.

None of it was a coincidence, of course. Hank Blakhamar had his own contacts to make use of once Sama told him her background, and arranging jobs for her folks in Detroit, probably the safest metropolis at the street level on the planet, hadn’t been difficult once they sold the family farm.

They’d had some peaceful years, watching their daughter’s ups and downs, and there’d been no stirrings from werewolves or Imprusar around them. Their kids had all grown up and done their service, and they had been holding down some jobs of their own to make ends meet when the world started to flip... and a quiet letter from Sama told them to jump on it with everything.

They could hide themselves forever, or they could get strong enough to face everything themselves.

Also, it was a road to Seven, which meant extra years for Forsaken, and her parents were getting up there in age.

They had made it all the way to Six at the Philly Shroudzone, taking very few detours on the path, as normal, and then made Seven after the leap to China and the murderous fighting with the Cultivators there. They were quietly looked after by Blakhamars, and Briggs and Sama themselves, as well as the Blood of the Irish, being just normal folks out there fighting and doing the right thing.

They’d made Seven on grit and determination, become Forsaken, and almost despite themselves, entered the ranks of the Senior troops, using the Double Helix method as basically Warrior/Vizards, a standard tactic for the average people who were joining the fighting.

It meant they were still soldiers, still ‘average’ troops for their Levels, not the elite Melees, Archers, and Scouts... but that was fine. They were there, they were contributing, and as Forsaken Nulls, they were tough as nails. They worked together very well in teams, all of them using Spears and Rifles to great extent, and all of them had fought and killed Cultivators and undead in repeated one-on-one combat.

They were also in the Allegiance now, with Marks and everything, so they could talk with the monstrously powerful second daughter of the family as they needed to, which really helped with the Leveling.

They were all sitting at Eight now, as far as the Double Helix could push them in the face of the Shroud’s suppression, as they had Classed up and weren’t following the Human Racial Class that most of the Chinese were. Still, they had their Human/3’s, all of them, and were simply expanding sideways for Depth as they continued the fight, upgraded their Gear, and made themselves stronger than the Imprusar or werewolves who might eventually discover them wanted to deal with.