I remained motionless, every mechanical joint locked in place. The silence pressed against my consciousness where that thunderous voice had echoed moments before. My own thoughts seemed muffled, as if something vast still lingered at the edges of my mind.

Hello? I projected outward, pushing my Mind Speech ability to its limits. The mental call bounced off empty stone walls and faded into nothing. No response came.

I extended my awareness further, searching for any hint of another consciousness nearby. The basement remained deserted. There were no students sneaking about, no patrol guards making their rounds. Just me and the hollow silence of ancient stone.

This was different from my own Mind Speech. When I communicated mentally with others, it felt like stretching out thin threads of thought between minds. But that voice... it had simply appeared inside my head, as if it had always been there.

I turned in a slow circle, mechanical limbs whirring softly. Could the speaker be hiding in the shadows? But no, this presence felt bigger than the confines of this room. More distant, yet somehow more immediate than physical space.

My gaze dropped to the widened crack leading to the Hellzone. The dark passage seemed to breathe with possibility. Could the voice have come from down there? The Academy's monster-filled underbelly was largely unexplored. Who knew what ancient things might dwell in those depths?

I projected another mental call toward the opening, but only emptiness answered. Whatever, or whoever, had spoken was either gone or choosing not to respond.

This was the first time anyone had used Mind Speech to communicate with me. Until now, I'd been the only one reaching out with mental words. To have someone not just respond, but reach into my mind with such overwhelming force...

The implications were troubling. Someone knew I was here. Someone powerful enough to reach out from who knew how far. And they had been searching for me.

I peered into the darkness below, my mental eyes adjusting to pick out details in the gloom. The rough-hewn passage sloped down at a steep angle, ancient bite marks from the Crevice Crickets still visible in the stone walls. Water dripped somewhere in the depths, each drop echoing up through the silence.

Kolin's estoc hummed faintly in my mechanical main hand, its enchantments reacting to the ambient mana that grew thicker as the passage descended. My other arms gripped my more mundane weapons with precise tension. The iron mace was ready to crush, the steel dagger positioned to slash, the long spear perfect for keeping distance.

I took my first step down, testing the stone with my reinforced foot. The rock held firm. Another step, then another. The passage curved slightly to the left as it descended, preventing me from seeing more than twenty feet ahead at any time.

My Assembly-crafted combat chassis moved with calculated grace, each joint and gear working in perfect synchronization. Thankfully, this form was a bit smaller than my human frame, which made descending the tight passage much easier. The extra arms at my back could fold close to my body when needed, yet extend to their full reach in an instant.

The air grew colder as I descended, carrying strange scents: old stone, yes, but also something metallic and sharp that made my organic parts tingle. The mana concentration increased with every step, becoming almost thick enough to taste.

Are you down here? I projected, keeping my mental voice controlled and focused. You were looking for me. Well, here I am.

No response came, but the silence felt different now, expectant, as if the very stones were listening. My weapons remained ready, each positioned to cover a different angle of attack. The estoc's enchanted blade was useless in these tight confines, as was the spear. Both weapons were too long to wield effectively; I would have to rely on my dagger and mace to fend off any monsters if they attacked me now.

Soon the passage leveled out, opening into what appeared to be a larger chamber ahead. At its bottom were the corpses of the Crevice Crickets I had tossed in from the storage room. There was not much of them left as it seems something (or somethings) had made a meal of their remains.

I paused at the threshold, analyzing the space before proceeding. Gray stone surrounded me, composing the entirety of the large cavern. If it was possible to call rock "sickly," then I would do so now. The stone of the walls looked ill, its form slightly crumbling. A thin sheen of unknown slimy liquid covered the surface as well, adding to the overall diseased effect.

This was the Academy Hellzone proper, where students were meant to train against monsters under controlled conditions. But there was nothing controlled about that voice that had invaded my mind earlier. I had to remain alert.

I stepped into the chamber, my multiple limbs moving in perfect coordination as back arms unfolded to ready the weapons in their grip. I searched for any threat that moved under the shadows. Whatever waited for me in these depths, I would face it.

An indistinct shape darted from under a rock, moving with that distinctive insectoid skitter that made my organic parts crawl. It was about the size of a small dog, similar to the Crevice Crickets I'd fought above, but its carapace was darker, almost pitch black. Two pairs of tiny wings adorned its back, and long antennae waved in the air as it moved towards me.

Analyze.

The ability activated, revealing its details:

Vile Roach

Level 8

The chamber's wider space gave me room to properly wield my weapons. I thrust forward with my spear arm, driving the point through the creature's thorax before it could leap. The roach let out a high-pitched screech that echoed off the stone walls. My mace arm swung down hard, crushing its head with a wet crunch.

Black ichor sprayed across my mechanical chassis, coating the metal in a disgusting sheen. The viscous fluid dripped down my joints and gears, making my machinery whir in protest. Even without a proper sense of smell, I could tell the substance was foul; my remaining organic parts recoiled at its mere presence.

More black forms detached from the darkness, skittering across stone with that distinctive insectoid movement. I counted twelve Vile Roaches approaching from different angles, their antennae tasting the air as they sized me up.

I sighed, already imagining how much cleaning I'd need to do after this fight. The bug's ichor was disgusting, and would most likely prove particularly troublesome to clear from my joints and gears. The black fluid from my first kill was already gumming up some of my smaller mechanisms.

Two roaches darted forward together. I speared one through its thorax while smashing the second with my mace. More ichor sprayed across my chassis, coating my mechanical arms in sticky darkness. The creatures' dying shrieks echoed off the chamber walls, spurring their companions into action.

The remaining roaches attacked as one, mandibles clicking and wings buzzing. I spun in place, my weapons moving in precise arcs. The estoc pierced clean through one roach while my dagger found the weak spot between another's chitin plates. My mace crushed a third that tried leaping at my face.

But they were fast, and there were many. Sharp mandibles scraped against my metal plating, seeking vulnerable spots. One latched onto my spear arm, its powerful jaws scratching the steel. I slammed it against the wall, feeling the satisfying crunch of its exoskeleton giving way.

Black fluid splashed everywhere as I dispatched roach after roach. It dripped down my chassis in thick rivulets, working its way into every crease and joint. My movements grew sluggish as the ichor began interfering with my mechanical operations. Still, I fought on methodically, each strike calculated for maximum efficiency.

The last three roaches tried to retreat, perhaps finally realizing they couldn't overcome my defenses. I didn't let them escape. My spear pinned one to the ground while my mace and dagger made short work of the others. Their death squeals faded into silence, leaving me alone in the chamber with a dozen crushed insectoid corpses.

Congratulations! You have defeated numerous enemies and have received experience.

No level up. I suppose it made sense; those roaches were of a much lower level compared to me. I needed to fight stronger enemies to gain better experience.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I looked down at myself. Black ichor covered every inch of my combat chassis, dripping steadily onto the stone floor. My joints creaked in protest as I moved, the sticky fluid already beginning to congeal. This would take hours to clean properly.

I stood among the roach corpses, considering my next move. My joints protested with each motion, the black ichor making every mechanical movement a struggle. A full retreat seemed the wisest choice since fighting deeper into the Hellzone with compromised mobility would be asking for trouble.

A soft trickling sound caught my attention. Water. Following the noise led me to a thin stream emerging from a crack in the chamber wall, flowing smoothly across the stone floor before disappearing into another crevice.

Perfect. I knelt beside the water, using my still-functioning hand to scoop it over my chassis. The black ichor loosened its grip on my metal parts, dissolving away much easier than expected. I focused on my joints first, working the clear water into every crevice until the mechanisms moved freely again.

Relief flooded through me as mobility returned to my limbs. I hadn't realized how much the roach fluid had restricted my movement until it was gone. The water ran black as I continued cleaning, carrying away the sticky residue.

At least it's not corrosive, I muttered through Mind Speech to myself, remembering several rumors I had heard of some monster fluids capable of eating through metal. This stuff was merely inconvenient rather than dangerous. Still, I'd need to do a more thorough cleaning later to prevent any rust from forming in my more delicate components.

I worked methodically, making sure to flush out every gear and joint. The stream's gentle flow provided exactly what I needed: clean water with enough pressure to help dislodge the gunk but not so much as to interfere with my careful cleaning.

Once my chassis was clean and moving smoothly again, I tested each joint and mechanism. Everything functioned as intended. The water had done its job well, washing away the last traces of that disgusting black ichor.

I stood and surveyed the chamber. Three passages branched off from the main room: one to the left, another straight ahead, and a third that curved down to the right. Each opening gaped like a hungry mouth, shadows pooling thick beyond their thresholds.

My Mind Sight adjusted, picking out details in the gloom. The left passage showed signs of frequent use with worn smooth patches on the floor and scratches at shoulder height along the walls. The center tunnel remained rough-hewn, virtually untouched. The right passage sloped downward at a sharp angle, water trickling along its floor.

I chose the left path. If others had used it regularly, chances were good it led somewhere worthwhile. My weapons remained ready as I advanced, with the estoc leading, mace and dagger covering my flanks, spear guarding my rear.

The tunnel twisted through the rock, sometimes widening into small chambers, other times narrowing until I had to turn sideways to pass. The air grew warmer, carrying an earthen scent mixed with something metallic.

A skittering sound echoed from ahead. I froze, listening intently. It was not the same noise as the Vile Roaches. This was different, more like claws on stone than chitinous legs. I edged forward carefully, each step placed with precision to minimize noise.

The passage opened into a broader cavern. Patches of luminescent fungi dotted the walls, casting everything in a pale blue glow. The space stretched perhaps thirty feet across, its ceiling lost in darkness above. Several tunnels branched off from the far side, their openings mere black holes in the rock face.

Movement caught my eye as something darted between shadows near the chamber's edge. Then another flash of motion from a different direction. The creatures were trying to surround me. I backed up against the nearest wall, giving myself one less direction to defend.

My mental eyes picked out details of my stalkers: lean, wolf-sized creatures with hard chitin instead of fur. Long tails ended in wicked barbs. Yellow eyes gleamed in the fungi's light as they emerged fully into view. The creatures looked like a mix between a large cat and the Cavern Crickets, a sort of feline insectoid.

Analyze.

Cave Stalker

Level 14

Better. These might actually provide worthwhile experience. And best of all, no sign of sticky black blood that would gum up my joints again.

Three Cave Stalkers faced me now, spreading out in a loose semicircle. Their barbed tails waved slowly back and forth as they sized me up. I adjusted my grip on my weapons, ready for their attack.

The first Stalker lunged forward, jaws snapping. I met its charge with my estoc, aiming for the spot where neck met shoulder.

The thrust was quick, but the creature managed to skitter sideways with unnatural speed. Its movement reminded me of a beetle avoiding a boot: quick, jerky, yet precise. The creature's feline grace mixed with insectoid motions created an unsettling fighting style I struggled to predict.

My spear jabbed at another Stalker as it darted in from my left. The beast twisted its body mid-leap, legs scrambling against the stone wall to change direction instantly. My weapon struck empty air as the creature scuttled along the vertical surface like a spider.

The third Stalker rushed straight at me, then dropped and slid underneath my guard when I swung my mace. Its barbed tail whipped up toward my face, but my dagger knocked it aside. The beast rolled away in a fluid motion that no normal cat could achieve, its chitin scraping against rock.

I adjusted my stance, tracking their erratic movements. Each Stalker moved independently yet coordinated with its packmates. When one attacked head-on, another would try to flank me. Their insect-like ability to change direction instantly made them difficult targets.

But I learned. My mechanical arms worked in perfect synchronization as I predicted their patterns. When one Stalker leaped at my face, my estoc found its throat. As another tried circling behind me, but my spear pinned it to the ground. The third fell to precise strikes from my mace and dagger, its chitinous armor cracking under the impacts.

I stood over their bodies, weapons ready for any other threats. A scraping sound drew my attention to the far tunnels. Four more Cave Stalkers emerged from the darkness, their yellow eyes fixed on me. Their tails lashed back and forth in agitation as they regarded their fallen packmates.

These new ones looked larger than the first three, their chitin bearing scars from previous battles. They spread out in an aggressive formation, clearly intent on avenging their companions.

I readied myself, and as the four large monsters stalked towards me, I realized that I felt no fear. If anything, I felt wonderful. Exhilaration filled all my limbs, both organic and mechanical. The rush of combat surged through me at last, awakening sensations I hadn't experienced in so long. This was why I'd enrolled at the War Academy in the first place: to build my strength so that I could gain vengeance for Mallie. I had been stifled for so long, both from Shawe's interference and my own desire to blend in with humans. It was only now that I felt free, truly free.

With weapons in hand, I fought. This was what it felt like to be a warrior.

I lost track of time as I fought through my enemies. Cave Stalkers kept emerging from the tunnels, drawn by the sounds of combat or the death of their packmates. My weapons found vital points with practiced precision: throats, joints, eyes. The creatures' movements grew predictable; they always attacked in groups of three or four, using their wall-climbing abilities to strike from multiple angles.

Black ichor splattered across my combat chassis as I gutted another beast. Thankfully, the fluid wasn't thick or coagulating and didn't interfere with my motor functions.

That made fifteen, or was it sixteen? I'd lost count of how many I'd slain. My joints whirred with growing strain, mechanical fatigue setting in after constant motion.

A deep growl echoed through the chamber. The remaining Stalkers backed away, their aggressive posture shifting to something more deferential. Heavy footsteps approached from the largest tunnel.

The creature that emerged dwarfed its smaller kin. Its chitin bore deep grooves and battle scars, and wickedly curved spikes protruded from its joints. Two barbed tails whipped through the air behind it.

Analyze.

Cave Stalker Matriarch

Level 16

The Matriarch charged without warning. I barely raised my weapons in time to deflect its massive claws. The impact sent shockwaves through my frame, metal groaning in protest.

My back arms stabbed at its flanks while I parried with my front weapons. The creature's armor was too thick, and my blades scraped harmlessly across its chitin. It twisted with impossible speed for its size, one tail catching my rear left arm. Metal shrieked as the barb tore through delicate machinery, the damage causing it to drop the mace it was holding.

I stumbled back, compensating for the dead weight of my ruined limb. The Matriarch pressed its advantage, its attacks becoming a blur of claws and tails. One strike caught my leg, crushing vital hydraulics. I fell to one knee but managed to drive my estoc deep into its shoulder joint.

The beast roared and reared back. I threw myself forward, ignoring the damage my mechanical body had just endured. My remaining weapons found the soft tissue beneath its armored head, slicing deep into the exposed flesh. The Matriarch thrashed once, then collapsed.

I sagged against the cavern wall, running a quick check of my chassis. One back arm was completely destroyed. The left leg was operating, but damaged. Multiple minor tears and dents across my frame. But I had survived, and grown stronger.

Congratulations! You have defeated numerous enemies and have gained experience. You are now Level 14!

The smaller Cave Stalkers had fled when their leader fell. I gathered what useful parts I could from the Matriarch's corpse, taking the more valuable pieces such as its carapace and barbs. I quickly stored the materials into my Depository. These would help repair my damaged components once I made it back to my room.

I limped back through the tunnels, my damaged leg whirring and clicking with each step. The combat had revealed critical flaws in my combat frame's design. The back arms worked well for simultaneous attacks, but their joints weren't reinforced enough for the raw power needed against armored monsters. And my leg hydraulics had proven too delicate.

My mind raced with potential improvements as I navigated the dark passages. I needed thicker armor plating around vital components. The Cave Stalkers' natural chitin offered an excellent template, one of overlapping plates that still allowed full range of motion. I could incorporate elements of their design using the harvested parts.

As I neared the entrance, I heard the familiar sounds of skittering coming from the dark corners of the cavern. Small black shapes soon emerged from the shadows, their wings and antennae twitching in the air as they saw me.

Vile Roaches.

I sighed. It looks like I was about to get even more filthy before I could get back to my room for repairs. This also reminded me that I needed to add some rubber coverings for my joints to prevent monster gunk from getting into them.

I raised my weapons as the small monsters attacked. It seems as if my night hadn't ended yet.

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