Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The drums would not stop.

Bloodhound continued their work, tucking the last of their supplies into their pack, checking and double checking their axe, their knife, their guns. And still, through it all, the rhythm pounded in their core, the deep, resonant drums that had lain dormant so many years, now awakened from long slumber.

They had quieted for a time - lulled by the rhythm of Bloodhound’s routine and the daily belief that all they did, all the hours spent in sweat and struggle, dirt and death were for a good cause. Comforted by the thought of saving his spirit from the dishonorable fate he had earned, but surely did not deserve. The drums had been loud, back then, loud with Bloodhound’s rage and then grief, thundering in ear, in mind and in heart.

Bloodhound had spent twenty years calming the savage beats. But now, with Talos split asunder and dying, the deep pounding was back, and with every breath Bloodhound took, their very soul quaked with the unrelenting rhythm of dread and regret, of loss, and of anger.

Something had to be done. And nobody was doing anything.

And why should they?

Bloodhound shoved another roll of bandages into a pouch. It was not the families of the other Legends suffering as the land they lived on was disemboweled before their eyes. The others did not see their loved ones being pushed to hunger and homelessness as the land expired under them, as their food withered and perished and Hammond’s greedy mechanical dragons belched their flames and ice into the sky. The legends had their own problems, and always would have. Bloodhound had no anger for them. This was not their affair.

A coil of fine, strong rope cinched neatly around Bloodhound’s waist. This was something they had to do alone. Atonement for mistakes of the past, atonement for failing to use their status and wealth to push for better conditions for their own family. Atonement for the deaths, time and time again, before their very eyes -- deaths they had failed to stop. Ice spoke its testament. Water carried its evidence. Sand and soil, too, bore witness.

Blood upon the hands of the Bloodhound. Blood that would never wash free - the red of their gloves a constant reminder of what had been lost, and what was owed.

It was time to pay the debt. If blood was what it took, blood would be paid, with interest.

Even if it was the blood of Bloodhound themself.

They weren’t sure when they’d begun preparing. It was almost automatic - a thing that had crept into them like a living creature. It reached out through their hands, gathering supplies, making notes, taking more than the usual among of care in the arena to make sure their shots were steady, their kills clean, their every movement efficient and purposeful even as the Hammond logo burned in shades of neon and white around them.

Bloodhound was training under the eyes of the enemy, and the beast of vengeance walked ever at their side, their combined steps as one, in time to the drums.

Bloodhound closed the pack and tied it securely closed, their movements somewhat reluctant now there was nothing else left to add. The beast of vengeance, while a good director of purpose and focus, was not an extra pair of hands. It did not have the knowledge of infiltration and destruction that Bloodhound sorely needed, for an endeavor like this. Nor did it have the skill with explosives that would be a core element of this battle. Focus was good, but even though Bloodhound wished they could face all of Hammond on their own, they knew that they would fail if they tried it.

Well. Valhalla would be waiting for them, in that case. There were, of course, alternatives, but...

A knock came at the door - the knock of a metal hand, followed by a cheerfully lilting, accented voice, “Houndie! What are you doing mate? Having a sulk? Can I join you?”

...Bloodhound’s hard heart trembled at the thought of putting another in danger, when they knew how fate enjoyed stripping their closest companions from them - even as the beast of vengeance purred at a solution so easy and willing and close at hand.

“Go away, Walter Fitzroy.”

“Come on mate!” The door slid open, and Walter ‘Fuse” Fitzroy poked his one-eyed face into Bloodhound’s room. “You’ve been hiding all morning! I know it’s our day off from the games, but surely you’re not tired of my ugly mug already?”

He had a pair of ice-cold beers in his good hand, Bloodhound noted, one already open, the other a honey flavored one Bloodhound had reluctantly taken a liking to. How easy it would be, to put the pack away for another day, to accept the drink and just ease all their problems with alcohol and good company.

But no. The light streaming in through the window was bright and cold - a reminder of the ice that gripped Talos with unforgiving claws, the same ice that had claimed Bloodhound’s parents over twenty years ago. Twenty years was too long to wait. Another day added to the thousands was unacceptable.

“You should go back to your own chambers, Walter,” Bloodhound said, slinging the pack over their shoulders. “I have business to attend, this day.”

“Yeah?” Fuse took a long drink from his chilled beverage, his single eye roving over Bloodhound, tracing them from head to toe. They were very glad they had a mask on - even now, when they were closer friends, whenever Walter looked at them like that it made their face heat. They still weren’t used to being so...noticed.

“Guess you do look like you’ve got a lot on your plate, Houndie.” Fuse said at last, wiping his moustache on the back of his hand and grinning at Bloodhound. Their heart tightened in their chest. How was it possible to feel such fondness and regret at the same time? “Is it time?” Fuse asked.

The question caught Bloodhound off guard. They had not mentioned their plans to Fuse - to anybody, in fact, not wanting to drag any friends or companions into the trouble they were seeking. “I... I don’t know what you mean,” they said, slipping their pack off and opening it again to rummage through. “Time for what?”

“Houndie...come on mate.” From the edge of Bloodhound’s vision, Fuse’s boots strode closer, and a heavy hand squeezed their shoulder. “I aint Seer of course, but I ain’t blind either, alright? I’ve seen what this...” he waved his metal hand vaguely at the window “...what the problems of Talos have been doing to you. You put on a brave face, aye, but…” he shook his head. “You’ve been brutal in the games. And you disappear as soon as-”

Bloodhound sighed. “Walter. This is my-”

“Your burden to carry? Nah, mate, don’t give me that. Your burdens became my burdens the day you stood by me against Maggie, eh? Anyway, burdens ain’t as bad, if someone else is helping you carry them.” He leaned against Bloodhound’s shounder, taking another swig from his beer and peering at their bag. “So. What’s the plan? And if you try to send me off again I’m going to dump your beer over your head.”

He offered the honeyed beverage to Bloodhound.

Bloodhound let out a huff to hide their laugh, and accepted the bottle. “Perhaps your sweetness is its own burden, Walter Fitzroy,” they said, popping the cap off and taking a drink, hoping the coolness would calm some of the warmth welling in their chest. This was no time to get emotional, but…

...but it was a nice change, to have someone who wanted to stand at their side and help them face their problems, instead of expecting them to fight alone, or worse, becoming one of said problems.

Ah. This pain in their chest...it had been a long time since they felt this way. They only hoped it was not a warning from the gods. Though, surely the Allfather himself could not refuse a man as brave and stubborn as Walter Fitzroy, who had already lost an eye and an arm in battle and yet continued to fight mightily.

“Fine,” Bloodhound said at last, setting the beer aside and drawing a long, thin box from their pack. “As much as I swore to myself not to ask you along...I had some feeling you might guess my intentions.”

“I can read you like a billboard, Houndie,” Fuse chuckled, beaming at them with a glitter in his dark eye. “Right. So, tell me the plan.”

“It is not overly complicated.” Bloodhound opened the box, showing three ear-piece-style communicators. “We break into Hammond’s buildings. We destroy their records. We place explosives at the right places, and-”

“And BOOM, no more Hammond, no more problem. Simple, brilliant. Love it.” Fuse took one of the ear pieces and fitted it into place, grinning and ruffling his hair up as high as it would go while he was at it. “Well you know with me around, you’ve got the explosives covered, eh?”

“You are correct.” Bloodhound, repressign a smile, took their own communicator and shifted their helmet enough to get the thing into place. Fuse’s voice now sounded like he was speaking directly into their ear. It was strange, but not unwelcome.

“Great, great,” Fuse rubbed his hands together, flesh on metal. “But, ah…” he glanced at the box that Bloodhound was now putting back in their bag. “I’m not sure just blowing up Hammond’s computers will destroy whatever information you want wiped out, Houndie. I see you’ve got a third earpiece there - are you gonna invite Crypto along? He’s got all those hacky skills that would come in handy…”

“No.” Bloodhound said, shrugging the pack onto their back once more. “I have not invited a third member of our party.”

“Eh?” Fuse’s brow furrowed. “But...but we do need someone, don’t we?”

Bloodhound looked out the window. It was growing dark, the sky already closer to purple than to blue. “We do.” They turned towards the door, not slowing their pace a single step as Fuse fell in behind them.

“I don’t understand, Houndie. If we need a third member, but you didn’t invite anyone, then how-”

“If I invited him, he would not come.”

Fuse stopped in his tracks. Bloodhound stopped too, once more glad for their mask...Fuse would not see their grim smile at his look of dismay. “Oh, Houndie…” he groaned. “You can’t mean...not him?”

“I am sure you can see quite clearly why he is the best choice in every respect.” Bloodhound began walking again and Fuse trotted to keep up with their relentless pace.

“I mean, yeah, I can see why he’s the best choice, but...that’s cold, mate. I can only hope that there isn’t anyone standing guard…”

Bloodhound’s dark humor faded some. They had forgotten Fuse had a soft heart, underneath all his sandpaper edges. This was the same man who had risked his own life to save a MRVN when his ship had crashed, who had been the one to crash said ship in order to save thousands of innocent lives.

Bloodhound stopped, putting a hand on his arm. “You do not have to come,” they said, more softly. “I accept your desire to help, and your friendship. But I do not wish to drag you into something you will regret.”

“Nah, nah.” The Salvonian shook his head, and laid his hand over theirs, giving it a squeeze. “I’m all in, and I mean it. Anyway…” he sighed. “You’ll definitely need me to watch your back, with that guy around…does it HAVE to be him?”

“Of course it has to be me.”

Even Bloodhound couldn’t help but shiver as the deep, metallic voice split the air around them. The third member of their team had arrived.

(to be continued...)

Chapter Text

Fuse jumped and swore, looking wildly around, but Bloodhound folded their arms, the pulse of the drums steady in their soul as Revenant dropped down in front of them. The simulacrum crouched a moment, spider-like, before slowly straightening, towering over them both. He looked from Bloodhound to Fuse and back with shining yellow eyes.

“If there’s ANYONE in this hellhole who’s got a right to take down Hammond, it’s me. And if either of you get in my way...I’ll rip out your spines and wear them as a pretty new necklace.”

“This is a sabotage mission, not a jewelry shopping trip,” Bloodhound said sternly. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw Fuse grin. It made them feel...not braver, they were beyond bravery being a factor, but perhaps a bit more relaxed. Calm enough to speak with rationality, instead of the hot-tempered beat of the drums. “You are correct, felagi, this is as much your hunt as mine.”

They dug in their pack, pulling out the earpiece case and snapping it open. They offered the last device to Revenant, ignoring the intensity of the mechanical being's gaze as he tried to bore into Bloodhound’s soul with force of will alone. “This will require us to work as a team,” Bloodhound said. “I assume you understand this, or else you would have gone after Hammond yourself before now.”

“So smart, for a little mutt…” Revenant made a point of extending his sharp fingers to full length to take the earpiece, a reminder of how he needed no gun, axe or knife to destroy any flesh-based creature. As if Bloodhound needed to be reminded - they were all too familiar with the kind of damage Revenant was capable of. They still had scars from previous matches.

Revenant fiddled the device into his...whatever he had that served for an ear. He gave it a tap tap, then purred into the mic in such a way that his voice practically reverberated down Bloodhound’s spine, “Are you sure about this, little hunter?”

“Of course I am sure.” Bloodhound turned and finally left the cover of the luxurious, Hammond-sponsored passenger-ship that served as the Legend’s temporary living quarters away from their home planets. Even though Talos was where Bloodhound’s village resided, Bloodhound was expected to remain near the other Legends so they could be easily found for nonsense like photo opportunities and costume fittings. Sometimes Bloodhound paid attention to these instructions. Sometimes they didn’t.

Lately they had, so as to not rouse suspicion.

Speaking of suspicion…

Bloodhound’s gaze lingered on one of the cameras surveying the border between Legend housing and Hammond workspace. There were many such devices, some visible and some not. “I came to you because I understand your need for vengeance, vel. Surely you have the same understanding of my position.”

They glanced from the camera to Revenant, who took the hint and instantly moved, slinking up the wall to wrench the camera from its socket with an unnecessarily gleeful abandon.

“Sure, I understand your lust for blood, Hound…” Revenant chuckled, his voice uncomfortably intimate in Bloodhound’s ear. “But I know you better than that, now. Your need for violence is second to your pain at what you have lost, and could still stand to lose...mate.”

Bloodhound got Revenant’s implication all too clearly. They were careful not to look at Fuse, instead picking their way over the rocky ground, keeping to shadows, away from any lava that would make their silhouette stand out like a beacon. “Living in this world means accepting loss as part of life,” they said. “There is no nobler end than to fall in battle-”

“You got a point, mate. Personally, I think I’d like to go out drunk as hell while taking out some nasty buggers with a huge bloody explosion,” Fuse chimed in cheerfully.

Bloodhound repressed a sigh. There were pros and cons to having Fuse a third party in this conversation, this...testing of boundaries. The salvonian was at once a comfort, and...a large risk. He would have their back, but Revenant-

“More likely you’ll go falling off the edge of something,” Revenant sneered. Bloodhound could see the sparks as he tore another camera free, up on the wall, his toes wedged deep in cracks in the concrete, his fingers tight around the neck of the device. “Your grip tends to give out, when it is most needed…”

Out of the corner of their eye, Bloodhound saw Fuse’s face fall. They knew what he was remembering - a hand offered not quite in time, a laughing face plunging to her doom amongst the falling rubble.

“It does not matter how strong the grip is, if the offered hand is not taken,” Bloodhound said sternly. “Something you would do well to remember, Revenant. This is a team effort - if we wish to succeed, we-”

“Don’t moralize me, dog,” Revenant snarled, “And don’t get the wrong idea. I’m working with you because you pathetic fleshbags serve my purpose. I don’t owe you anything. In fact-” And he laughed, the metallic sound ringing through the comms, “In fact, I hope you understand now, that if we get into any manner of situation in which you think you’ll need salvation, you won’t get anything from me unless you tell me what I want to know about her. When she sleeps, where she eats, who she’s been seeing. Yes…”

Revenant drawled on, taking Bloodhound’s silence for shock, “Yes, I know you and she are close...it means you have something I want, Hound, so if you bungle your way into something...problematic, you’d better be prepared to spill every secret on her you’ve got hidden away.”

Her. Loba. Of course, Revenant was still seething over her betrayal...Bloodhound had hoped to avoid any part in that squabble, but it was too late, apparently. They could feel Fuse’s gaze on their back, and it was more for his sake than their own that they clenched their teeth and did not spit the fiery words that they longed to say. Revenant wanted to goad them, they knew this. They would not give him what he wanted.

Fuse took the opportunity to jump in, “Good thing Houndie won’t need your help then, mate! Not with me there to watch their back.” And he slapped Hound on the shoulder affectionately. “There ain’t no challenge we can’t handle, side by side.”

“Oh yeah? Well then…” Revenant launched off the wall and landed in front of them, his movement terrifying in its grace and silence. Before either of them could move, he had Fuse in the air, one steel hand hoisting him by the leather vest with ease as Fuse yelped and struggled. “What a pathetic knight in shining armor. And if you die first, leaving your poor little princess at my mercy…?” His laugh was rich and dirty as he raised Fuse higher, the Salvonian’s boots flailing a foot and a half off the ground.

“He will not die first,” Bloodhound said, the words sharp as razors. The drums were loud in their ears, pulsing with the beating of their heart, their axe was in their hand and they had no memory of drawing it.

“Oh?” Revenant turned, Fuse still dangling from his fist. “I’m dying to hear why you’re so sure.”

“If any of us dies first, it will be you, vel, because you know you will come back.” Bloodhound stepped closer, eyes locked on the machine. “You will not allow me to die, for as you just said, I have the information you seek. But if he dies first, and I am still alive-” Bloodhound hooked their axe through one of Revenant’s chest straps and pulled him down, glaring into his face, “First, I will kill you.”

“Huh, some threat,” Revenant sneered, refusing to release Fuse, though now his boots were awkwardly touching the floor. Revenant’s other hand moved, reaching for Bloodhound’s throat. “I’ll just come back, and-”

“And when you show your face again, I will track your steps,” Bloodhound said, catching his wrist, locking it in place with a deft twist that brought a grunt from the simulacrum. “I will follow back, back to the secret place you crawl every time you are reborn. No matter how hidden, I will find it - and I will not rest until I have used all my skill and all my knowledge to destroy each and every body that hangs there, waiting for you.”

Revenant stared, shocked into silence. Bloodhound leaned close, unable to keep the snarl out of their voice. “I will slatra every empty shell waiting for you, Revenant. And when you are down to only the form you are wearing, I will hunt YOU, and you will never know peace until I find you, and put your metal corpse in the ground.”

“...don’t threaten me with a good time,” Revenant growled, and Fuse, even still half dangling from his fist, laughed.

Revenant turned his head, staring at the grenadier in disbelief. Fuse only shrugged, grinning without apology. “What can I say, mate? It’s a good comeback.”

“Ugh,” Revenant rolled his eyes, and let go of him. Bloodhound released Revenant’s wrist as well, allowing him to slip free of Raven’s Bite.

The simulacrum carefully straightened up, stepping back and staring at them both with his expressionless, unblinking face. “...at least I know one of you is taking this whole thing seriously…”

“Very seriously,” Bloodhound said, folding their arms. “Do not forget.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Revenant glared at them a moment, then turned his gaze back on Fuse, watching as he pulled his vest straight and took another swig from the beer that he’d, somehow, managed to keep a hold on even when he was being threatened by seven feet of deadly steel intent.

“Mind if I contribute to the conversation?” Fuse asked, wiping his mustache on the back of his hand.”

“Yeah,” Revenant said, turning away and going back up the wall, looking for more cameras. “I do mind. Shut up.”

“Nah, mate…” Fuse put a hand to his ear, making sure the earpiece was still firmly in place. “You had your say, I get mine.”

“Ugh.”

“You better make sure Houndie survives too,” Fuse said. He kept his eye averted as Bloodhound re-sheathed their axe with shaking hands. “Wanna know why?”

“No.” Revenant chucked a security camera at Fuse.

The Salvonian stepped easily to the side as the heap of scrap crunched into the rocky soil. He settled one booted foot on top of the sparking mass, grinning. “Because, mate, if anything happens to me best mate on all of Talos, I’m going to shove a grenade up your metallic behind and blow your legs off. It won’t kill ya...so you’ll just be stuck without an a** until someone else takes enough pity on you to put you out of your misery.”

Bloodhound stared at him, torn between shocked laughter and horror, and Fuse winked back, continuing to speak into his earpiece. “And if Houndie were dead and the other legends found out you were responsible, well...I wouldn’t count on mercy from them anytime soon, mate…”

“I should have gone myself and let Hammond turn me into scrap,” Revenant complained, “Listening to your sappy threats is making me want to take a swim in lava.”

“Plenty of time for that later,” Fuse said, smiling and nudging Hound with his shoulder.

Bloodhound shook their head, glad their smile was hidden, knowing Fuse could tell they were wearing it anyway.

“But you know what else?” Fuse prodded.

“I don’t care.” Revenant loomed up ahead of them, perched on the fence that marked the barrier between themselves and Hammond’s territory, glaring at them both.

“If we all make it out of this alive, I’ll buy you a beer! Or, ah, an oil can, if that’s what gets you jazzed.” Fuse flashed his grin Revenant’s way.

“The only thing that gets me jazzed is slicing open skinbags to see what spills out,” Revenant said, sliding down the fence on the opposite side and doing something to the control panel. The reinforced door suddenly opened, showing him standing tall before them, the setting sun turning him into a yellow-eyed shadow puppet. “But if you want to offer me that kind of amusement, I might just take you up on it…”

Fuse chuckled, giving Bloodhound a devilish look before responding, “Don’t gotta slice me open to see what spills out, but somehow I don’t think you have quite the handwork to do that the proper way-”

“Allfather preserve us,” Bloodhound groaned, mortified and repressing a laugh despite themselves. “That is enough!”

Revenant stared at them, then looked to Fuse, and back again. It was clear he’d noticed Bloodhound’s discomfort. “Huh...don’t make me curious, Salvonian...or else I might take you up on that challenge…”

Fuse let out a belly laugh even as Bloodhound winced. “Stop!” they said, sternly. “If you two want to flirt, save it for after the mission! This is not the time.”

“Life is short, Houndie!” Fuse said, still chuckling as he slipped his now-empty bottle into the barrel of his grenade cannon. “Shorter every second, especially since we’re doing a life-or-death sabotage mission. Anyway, I doubt anyone’s flirted with this poor fella in three hundred years-”

Revenant gave Fuse a look, somehow managing to convey amusement even without changing his facial expression. “You’d be surprised…”

“You know what? Changed me mind.” Fuse shook his head, his smile unchanged. “I don’t wanna know.”

Revenant laughed, leading the way to the first Hammond building with long strides.

Bloodhound let out an exasperated breath, but followed. They didn’t know what they’d expected to happen, bringing Fuse and Revenant together, but this definitely wasn’t it. Threats, yes, but weird, comrade-style flirtation? No.

Still, as they trotted along after the simulacrum, Fuse kept pace at their side with an easy, loping stride. Bloodhound supposed it was all going as well as they could possibly hope. After all, here they were, undetected and uninhibited, already within Hammond’s territory of secrets and lies.

They looked up at the harvester looming in the distance. Soon, it would never darken Talos’s horizon again.

“I take it you want to hit the climatizer first?” Revenant said, his path already heading towards it. “And if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking-”

“Yes,” Bloodhound said, shaking themselves out of their thoughts. “The climatizer first. Then the lava siphon. And then…”

Fuse whistled. “Then the harvester. You’re destabilizing the entire cooling chain....” He shook his head. “The heat builds up and, boom! Takes out everything smaller. Brilliant, Houndie.”

Bloodhound said nothing. They didn’t feel particularly brilliant. By working at night, they were avoiding getting most of the Hammond employees killed, but there were probably guards and supervisors still around, keeping an eye on things. Revenant would take care of some, and the explosion would take care of the rest.

Still, Bloodhound told themselves, this was what war was about. Achieving the overall goal, never mind the casualties. These workers of Hammond were not innocent. There was no way Hammond was ignorant of the effects of their actions - their smoothing campaign trying to erase the damage while Bloodhound’s people suffered was insult added to injury. At this point, it was either them, or Bloodhound’s own village.

Bloodhound had a responsibility, one they had ignored for too long. And the Allfather only smiled upon those who defeated their enemies, not those who laid down and let defeat take them.

It wasn’t the cool air of the climatizer that made Bloodhound shiver as, one by one, their little group slipped into the evening shadows cast by the building. “The sooner we finish this,” Bloodhound said, “the better.”

Chapter Text

The team got to the first building just as the sun slipped below the horizon. Bloodhound cast a last look out over the silent, frozen landscape, while Revenant bullied the door into granting them entrance, the groans of protesting metal a fitting accompaniment to the tension that weighed on Bloodhound’s shoulders.

A snap. A grinding screech. The doors opened, and they were in.

Bloodhound sent out a scan as they darted up the metallic hallway, but there was no sign of life - no bodily heat signatures along the lengths of cold, unfeeling metal stretching before them. The only steps echoing before their little group were their own. Bloodhound supposed that wasn’t too strange, as it was late - perhaps the scientific workers had gone home for the day already.

Still, they had expected at least SOMEONE to watch over Hammond’s costly laboratories and research areas that comprised the climatizer. After all, Talos was in a very precarious situation, temperature-wise. Any mistake in their regulation could lead to even more damage than was already occurring. In fact, the more Bloodhound thought about it, the less it made sense that every window they passed, every doorway and security check, was completely devoid of life or surveilance.

“Where the bloody hell is everyone?” Fuse murmured at their side, his gaze on an abandoned monitoring station. The light from the screens full of continually flickering numbers reflected on his face, ghostly green. “I thought ‘science never sleeps’ or some such thing?”

Bloodhound paused too, looking at the numbers. From what they could see, things were stable enough, but they didn’t know the details of what exactly was being monitored.

“Perhaps the situation is steady enough that they can all go home at night,” they said, trying to keep the doubt out of their voice. “This way is better - it means less collateral damage for what we must do.”

“I am doing this FOR the collateral damage,” Revenant growled just behind Bloodhound. They kept themselves from jumping, but barely. They turned their head to meet his gaze, inches from their own, twin points of yellow malice. “I want to shed the blood of their so-called great corporation, I want to feel their deaths wash over my hands!” Revenant stared at Bloodhound as if he suspected the tracker was keeping the workers out of his reach on purpose. “Nothing less will satisfy me.”

“While I understand your need for slatra, velafolk…” Bloodhound, gently but firmly, placed a finger between Revenant’s eyes and pushed his face out of their personal space. Were they of any fainter heart, his glare would have made them shiver. “...we have two other locations to strike. We can focus on the task at hand and still have time for your hunt.” Their voice was steady as they said it, but their heart, however strongly marching to the beat of the drum of vengeance, still ached at the thought of the innocents who would fall if Revenant got his wish.

Innocents who would fall because Bloodhound was leading their death right to them.

No, Bloodhound told themselves firmly. Revenant would have come on his own, even if they had not organized this mission. Whatever blood the simulacrum spilled would not be on Bloodhound’s hands.

Would it?

“Huh.” Revenant turned away from them both, his voice heavy with disgust. “Fine. Give me the explosives, then - the sooner we get them planted, the sooner we can get out of this empty shell of an anthill.”

Fuse had been watching the exchange with undisguised interest, and his scruffy face broke into a broad grin. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, pulling a few interestingly-shaped charges out of his backpack.

He showed them to Bloodhound and Revenant - they looked very much like his usual stock of grenades, but with perhaps more wiring, and a little flashing light attached at one end.

“I assume you have these timed so they wont go off as soon as I set them down,” Revenant said, reaching for them without waiting for the answer.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Fuse handed a few to Revenant, but kept one back to show Bloodhound as he explained. “Not on a timer, though - rigged to a receiver, so we don’t get ourselves into any nasty messes by mistake if we get behind schedule.” He pulled a different item from inside his vest, showing both his teammates the button-press trigger. “Once we’re safe in the wind, boom!” he mimed clicking the button, “We blow these buggers to kingdom come.”

“You might be of use to me yet,” Revenant said, eyes glittering as he stared at the trigger. Bloodhound didn’t like the look of him - they could all but smell his bloodlust, despite his expressionless face. Especially when the simulacrum spoke his next words in an almost coddling tone. “You should let me hold that... for safe keeping.”

“Giving you anything for safekeeping is like chucking a glass plate down a cliff for safe keeping,” Fuse chuckled, tucking the trigger back in his pocket. “Nah. Let's just get on with it, and I’ll push that special little button whenever our fearless leader says the word! Right, fearless leader?”

He winked at Bloodhound. Bloodhound cleared their throat, shook their head, and said, “Let us finish up here and head to the next location. We should not linger, inviting discovery.”

“Alright, alright…” Revenant growled, already striding down the dark hallway. They could hear his words drift back towards them, even with his back turned. “Heh...a bit of discovery would be fun. Give me an easy target…”

Bloodhound watched him go, then looked at Fuse. “It seems you were aware of my intention longer than I realized,” they said, voice dry. “You had these prepared, even though I never told you what I needed.”

“I read you like a book, Houndie.” Fuse said with a grin. “But, yeah. I guess I knew something was brewing on your horizon for a while.” He shook his head, running his fingers through his little tuft of hair. At least he was pretending to look sheepish. “Didn’t take a genius to see the clouds, or hear the thunder, and know a storm was coming.”

“Hm.” Bloodhound tended to forget that Fuse was an observant sort. A gambler, and an old campaigner. The fact that he continued to put his abilities to use in order to help Bloodhound was… strange. Bloodhound was not used to someone else anticipating their needs, and taking action. “Well. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, mate.” Fuse said, absolutely beaming. “Also, still got quite a few of these left,” he hefted the timed explosive. “Shall we plant a few of our own?”

“Yes," Bloodhound couldn’t quite keep a smile out of their voice. “Where they will do the most damage.”

Together they searched out a map of the place, then planted a few more of the charges in various records rooms - paper files, server banks, and one area that looked like it was supposed to be a high-security storage area but had a fresh trail of blood leading down the hallway.

“The vela found this one first,” Bloodhound said, not needing to touch the blood to know how fresh it was. “Well. At least we know we have been on the right track.”

“I don’t know what it was supposed to be secure against...” Both Bloodhound and Fuse jumped as Revenant’s voice came drifting down from the floor above them. “But leaving one guard when I’m around is just asking to be compromised…”

There was a scuttling noise, and Revenant’s head popped into the nearest window, upside down. A few drops of blood leaked down from where his red fingers clutched the window sill, bright rubies against the dark gray sky. “Let’s find the next one.”

“Yes. Let us carry on.” Bloodhound kept their voice even, but their heart gave a guilty squeeze in their chest.

Mission death toll so far: 1.

**

The lava siphon was next.

It was not as easy a location to sabotage as the climatizer. Where the climatizer was all about fine regulation and temperature control, the siphon was about one thing, and one thing only: continuously transporting massive amounts of molten rock. It was built to withstand anything - heat, pressure, shock and even bullet fire. The grinding churn of machinery hid the noise of their team’s approach well, for the siphon did its work even this late into the night: a hungry dragon continuously guzzling from the open wound in Talos’ flesh.

The team paused for a moment in the shadow of the beast, huddled against the metal that, even in the chill night, was still hot to the touch. Fuse folded his arms, watching the scoops dip in and out of the glowing pool. “I don’t think a grenade will be enough to break down a machine that soaks in lava day in and day out, Houndie…”

“No, you are quite right…” Bloodhound slung their pack off their shoulder, and pulled out an industrial-grade two foot long wrench. “Not alone, anyway.”

“Did you get that from Rampart?” Fuse laughed, eyeing the thing appreciatively.

“Yes,” Bloodhound said, not mentioning that, technically, they had told Rampart it was for repairs, not sabotage.

“You’re going to have to get off ground level if you want to put that to any use.” Revenant loomed over them both, looking down at the wrench with a critical yellow eye. “The piping goes from floor to ceiling...and everything down here is reinforced.”

Bloodhound looked at the closest set of tubes, heart sinking. They had hoped to find some connections to undo nearer to ground level, but the simulacrum was right - everything else was too reinforced for tampering. The weakest points were where the pipes were bolted at their joints, high above their heads.

Revenant saw them looking, and gave a dark chuckle. “Heh...want me to carry you, pup?”

“I don’t,” Bloodhound said, giving him a glare they hoped he could feel through their tinted lenses. The last time Revenant had carried them, it was because they’d dislocated their shoulder and were stuck at the bottom of a pit.* Nothing other than that level of sheer desperation would have allowed them to tolerate such an indignity. “You can make two trips. One to loosen the screw, and another to get the explosives from Walter.” They sighed, shaking their head. “Wait a moment - I will do a scan, to be sure we are not interrupted.”

They turned from the others, ignoring Revenant’s leer and Fuse’s brow furrowing in worry, and sent out their usual scan - expecting this building to be just as abandoned as the last.

But to their surprise, it wasn’t.

On the edge of their field of perception, they spotted something - a brief flash of heat and movement. Not the lazy, steady heat of the lava itself, nor the unwavering constant of the heated metal supporting the process. No, this was a smaller heat, scrambling quickly, but not quickly enough, out of the path of their vision.

Someone was here. Someone hadn’t gotten out in time, and was now trying desperately not to be noticed.

“Alright, Houndie?” Fuse asked them, clearly noticing their hesitation. “Do you want me to go check it out?”

“Ah...no.” Bloodhound shook their head. Whoever it was, they were going away, not towards their group. “There is nothing.” They hesitated a moment, then said, “You two work on this area. As an extra precaution, I will scout deeper into the building. I will return within a few minutes.”

“Fine,” Revenant held out his hand, making a show of extending his metallic fingers to full length. Bloodhound handed over the wrench, amused at his theatrics. The murderbot hefted the tool thoughtfully, looking from its heavy end to Bloodhound and back again. Probably wondering if it would be enough to crack my helmet like an egg, Bloodhound thought sourly to themselves. Or at least making it look like that’s what he’s thinking.

“Give me a few charges as well,” they said to Fuse, ignoring the robot’s posturing. “I will see if there are any more delicate areas that are worth detonating.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Fuse said with a grin. He slung his pack down and pulled out a handful of explosives, passing three over to Bloodhound. “You be careful with those delicate areas, you never know what could happen…”

“Ugh,” Bloodhound said, half hating that he made them smile. They accepted the charges, slipping them onto one of the many belts crossing their person. “Thank you for the advice.”

They turned away, leaving the grenadier and the simulacrum to their task, and directed their own quick, light steps deeper into the building - into the rumbling chest of the dragon.

It didn’t take long for Bloodhound to find what they were looking for. Hidden back behind the open rooms and spacious platforms was a more secret room - a room with many screens showing the various locations within the building. Bloodhound had done enough research before this mission to know what to expect, but even without research, it made sense that it was here: After all, the Apex Games were a large-scale commercial event. Of course they would want video capture in every location the legends could possibly pass through.

They gazed at the screens, eyes lingering for a moment on the visual of Fuse and Revenant working together to loosen the big bolts holding the piping in place and plant the grenades. They worked well as a team, Bloodhound had to admit, but then again, they rather suspected Fuse could work well on any team. The man had charm and spirit. He was the polar opposite of Revenant, who knew charm only in a twisted form, useful for mockery and bitterness.

Sometimes Bloodhound pitied the wretched metal beast. Somehow, despite his prickly nature, he was easy to understand. There had certainly been times in Bloodhound’s life where they felt the world was against them, and they wished to hide all doubt and weakness in constant, glorious bloodshed.

They shook their head. Focus, Hound, focus. They considered the screens more carefully - looking for any sign of life aside from their own teammates...

...and they found something interesting.

Most of the screens held nothing of significance - showing only empty corridors, or mindlessly chugging mechanics. A few of them displayed numbers, probably for the purpose of monitoring machine functionality and temperatures. However, a good handful of the screens showed nothing at all, only gray, buzzing static.

In fact, as Bloodhound looked back at Fuse and Revenant, the simulacrum noticed the camera, and reached out - giving Bloodhound a flash of his gleaming gaze before, with a crunching sound and another burst of static, the screen fuzzed out like the others.

“Oh,” they murmured aloud, “so that is how they knew we were coming.”

They stared at the fuzzing screen, the jittering black and gray blur an articulate representation of their own buzzing thoughts.

The workers in the buildings were being warned as they - or more specifically, as Revenant approached. They knew what the presence of the simulacrum meant to them. They were evacuating, fleeing peacefully, without putting up a fight or calling in any manner of resistance. Either this was a purely humanitarian escape effort, with the employees deciding their lives were worth more than their jobs, or Hammond was intentionally allowing the sabotage to take place. Probably the latter, Bloodhound mused, so the corporation could wash their hands of responsibility and stop having to bother with the issue on Talos.

Maybe they had found no more Branthium existed, and letting their beasts of manufacture be slain was easier than packing them up and shipping them away.

Leaving someone else to clean up their messes, Bloodhound thought bitterly, shutting down the screens with a few button pushes. As usual.

“What are you doing?”

Bloodhound jumped at the words, breathed softly just over their shoulder. Their axe was in their hand as they turned, the blade inches from Revenant’s neck - for it was Revenant - before their mind fully registered his presence.

They held the pose a moment, breathing hard as they met his steely gaze across the length of the dark blade.

Then they relaxed, slipping the axe back on their belt and folding their arms. “I am doing just as I told you: investigating, and-”

“You still have the charges you took from that absurd Salvonian.” Revenant eyed the explosives hanging on Bloodhound’s belt. “Seems you haven’t been terribly busy.” He turned to the screens - all of them black now, then back to Bloodhound. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” Bloodhound said stoutly, ignoring the jolt of adrenaline that went through them when meeting his gaze. It was the truth, mostly, but not all of it, and not what Revenant wanted to hear. “We can set the charges here and move on.”

They moved to push past the robot, but he stuck out an arm, gripping them by a loose strap and blocking them from moving past. He leaned close, until Bloodhound’s world was captured in twin points of yellow menace.

“Let me be clear to you, Hunter,” Revenant said, his voice barely a breath, “That if I find you are lying to me, and protecting those who are responsible for my situation, it is not you who will suffer for your idiotic heroism, but those very pathetic souls you are trying to protect. I’ll make their deaths long and... heh... memorable.” He trailed his sharp fingertips down Bloodhound’s armor plates, the rough scraping noise no louder than his next words. “I would think you were smarter than finding ways to bring more guilt upon yourself…”

“And I thought you learned long ago not to step within reach of my knife blade,” Bloodhound responded calmly, a small *snick* sound emphasizing their meaning. “But it seems becoming elderly has affected your memory, vel.”

Revenant’s loincloth dropped to the floor, one of the hip-straps severed by Bloodhound’s knife.

For a second the simulacrum only stared at Bloodhound, as if he could not believe what had occurred. Then he swore explosively, tossing the hunter back and bending down to scrabble his pitiful garment back into place. “I’m going to GUT you for that!” He snarled, trying to re-attach the broken strap and look menacing at the same time. “You pathetic DOG-”

“Whoah, whoah! What’s all the fuss? Am I missing the party?” Fuse poked his head around the door. His eyes went wide when he saw Revenant trying to cover his lower parts (not that there was anything at all to cover), and then went even wider when he saw Bloodhound standing defensively with the knife. “Wow. And you told ME not to be flirting-”

Bloodhound glared at him, and put their knife away. “We are wasting time,” they said shortly. “I am setting the charges in this room, and we are moving on to the harvester.”

Revenant cursed again, adding after the rather long expletive, “I’m not going ANYWHERE like this!”

“Here, mate, allow me.” Fuse drew his knife out of his boot, and, without waiting for Revenant’s permission, pulled the end of the strap from between the simulacrum’s fingers and split it down the middle. Under the robot's murderous gaze, he tied the two slit pieces around the main loop, and settled the entire thing back into place. “There,” Fuse said, grinning up at the glare that promised death in many different shapes, colors and sizes, “All better, aye? Let’s be off.”

He spun on his heel and sauntered out of the room, whistling cheerily. Bloodhound and Revenant watched him go, sharing a stunned silence.

“I’m going to kill him,” Revenant said, without looking at Bloodhound.

“He has that effect on people,” Bloodhound said, allowing their amusement to leak into their voice. “Let us go. Perhaps you will find what you seek at the next location.” They broke the stillness, walking towards the door, following in Walter’s steps.

“I’ll find it,” Revenant said, his voice chillingly close, even though Bloodhound did not hear him move. “One way or another. I’ll find it.”

And Bloodhound believed him.

Chapter Text

Even turned off, the Harvester radiated greed.

It was the tallest of the structures they had visited yet. Its three legs stood firm, sunk deep into the rocky ground. Its hungry, circular mouth remained poised over the hole in the planet’s crust -echoing the gluttonous violence that was its sole purpose - even when it was not, at this moment anyway, taking anything from the tired, dying land.

Of all the locations on Talos, Bloodhound hated this one the most. The Harvester was there to take the Branthium - to take without payment or consequence. All the damage, all the suffering and destruction, was for what this machine was meant to do. All that Branthium, or whatever of it was left, taken away to power Hammond’s work, leaving Talos with nothing but destruction.

Bloodhound knew that destroying the Harvester would not fix Talos’ injury. But perhaps it would stop more from occurring, and it surely would raise the spirits of the people suffering from all the change that had come to the land.

And anyway, they had stood idly far too long. No more.

They raised their hands, preparing to send out a scan - but this time, Revenant caught their wrist. Ignoring their glare, he kept his eyes on the great machine before them. “Not this time,” he growled. “This time, I lead the way.”

So Bloodhound shrugged, stepped back, and let Revenant cut their trail. He was, after all, a perfect machine for the job; those metallic fingers able to tear through the sturdy aluminum siding or slip between a crack to wrest doors open with almost no effort. So often the robot boasted of his blood lust and drive to kill, Bloodhound tended to overlook the other side of his skill-set - the part designed to make him a perfect assassin, able to infiltrate with ease, to move in silence and await the perfect opportunity to strike…

Bloodhound shivered. The machine was a perfect hunter, in this environment. They were not sure they were comfortable admiring him, or wondering what it must be like to be an ideal predator, without limitations of flesh and bone.

No. Best to focus on the task at hand. Fuse’s cheerful whistling and steady steps at Bloodhound’s side helped, some. The fact that this night was almost over helped more.

The Simulacrum led them to a sort of electrical room- closed off from the usual paths the Legends could take. Bloodhound wouldn’t even have known it was there if he hadn’t shown the indications of a carefully concealed secret door nestled between wall panels. This time instead of screens with flickering numbers, there were rows and rows of switches, handles and pressure gauges, with many flashing lights of various colors. At first glance the room was completely abandoned, but on second glance there was a chair in place, set at a tiny little corner table, and a still-warm cup of coffee rested on a napkin full of crumbs in the middle of it.

All three of them stared at that cup. All three of them knew what it meant.

Someone had been there. Someone they had missed by moments, if not seconds.

“I’ll be right back,” Revenant said, going out the door again. “You skinbags just figure out where to plant the next charges.”

“Oh we’ll figure it out!” Fuse said, though his eyes were still on the cup. “Don’t make a mess though, aye?”

“The mess is half the fun,” Revenant sneered. And then he was gone, disappearing noiselessly down the hallway. On the hunt.

Bloodhound tore their eyes away from the cup. Mission death toll: 2.

A hand on their shoulder pulled their attention back to reality. Fuse leaned in close, his voice pitched low, single eye full of concern. “Houndie...were there people back at the climate controller?”

Bloodhound hesitated. They knew, somewhat guiltily, that Revenant was getting to them, making them want to prove that they were not soft, that they were just as dedicated as he to the slaughter. Bloodhound had steeled their soul, hardened their heart against the employees of Hammond. But Fuse, Walter, who would save even a MRVN if he could, clearly had not.

Perhaps that was for the best. Balance, in all things.

Bloodhound gave a nod. “I...I did not see fully,” they admitted, “But there was a flash. And their cameras - the trail of broken visuals indicated our direction.” They sighed. “Our arrival is surely known.”

“So they’re evacuating,” Fuse said, a smile of relief breaking over his face. “Gettin the hell out before anything terrible happens. That’s great. Really great. Good thinking, Houndie!”

“I-” Bloodhound wasn’t sure they deserved this praise. True, they had not told Revenant about the trail, but neither had they denied him the right to hunt. “Ah. Well. Let us continue.”

They turned away from him, busying themself with the various levers and lights, trying to make sense of whatever was being controlled in this area. Fuse, after a moment’s hesitation, joined in too. “This thing is so huge,” he said, “I don’t know if my little toys will be enough to take it down, mate.”

“It is powerful,” Bloodhound agreed. “But like all great beasts, it must have a weakness..”

“What if we just destroy all these little controller thingies?” Fuse patted one of the blinking lights before them. “That would at least keep them from being able to turn it back on for a while.”

“It’s a start,” Bloodhound said with a slow nod. “I would like it better if we could bring the whole beast crashing down.”

They regarded the mysterious components, turning over ideas in their mind as a river turned stones. “Perhaps if we turn it on and then destroy the controls, it will take care of itself.”

Fuse’s eyes widened. “Houndie, don’t you think that’s a bit of a risk? After all, if this machine has done enough damage to change the whole weather system and affect the landscape, doesn’t that mean it has enough power to...well.” He made a gesture with his metal fist, spreading the fingers outwards like an explosion. “Cause more damage even still?”

Bloodhound nodded, slowly. As much as they ached to see the thing fall, it would help nobody if it worsened Talos’ condition in the process. Bloodhound would not become Hammond - sacrificing the land for their own desires. “Very well,” they said. “Let us plant the charges here, and in any other control room we can find.”

“Hell yeah,” Fuse said, grinning. “It’s gonna be a blast.”

They set the charges, laying a few explosives behind the various screens and computer equipment. There weren’t any other control rooms - at least none that Bloodhound could find with their scans.

They lingered a moment, looking at the many blinking lights. “I expected Revenant to be back by now,” Fuse said.

“I suppose he is taking his time on the hunt,” Bloodhound said. “We can await him outside. It is best to put distance between ourselves and this place anyway - I do not know where else the video footage has been going.”

They led Fuse out and down - across the rocky ground, away from the Harvester, and then up a steep slope whose moss and lichen had died long ago. Bloodhound paused between scrambling up sections of the stony jumble, and ran a hand over the blackened plant matter. Soon, they promised silently, soon you will be able to grow and reclaim your homeland.

Fuse kept up, puffing a bit but without complaint, and eventually they sat atop the ridge face together, looking out at the three buildings that they had sabotaged. Climatizer, Lava Siphon, Harvester. Only now, now that everything was ready, now that they had taken proper steps and the process was almost over, did Bloodhound begin to feel a shred of pride for this mission. Their people would see that their faith and patience was not in vain. Bloodhound would prove themselves worthy once more, and be able to sleep in peace for the first time in months.

Fuse leaned back on his metal arm, crossing his legs and regarding the dark silhouettes cheerfully. “Well, Houndie?” He drew the detonation control out of his inner pocket. “Ready to do the honors? Light this birthday candle and make a little wish?”

“What a useful birthday candle,” Bloodhound said as they accepted the control. “Granting my wish with the push of a button.”

“What a useful birthday candle,” a sneering voice echoed up from below, “Ending the lives of so many, all at once.”

Revenant crawled over the edge of the ridge. He was an awful sight, dripping with blood and gore, his faceplate cracked, his scarf in tatters around his neck, his paint scratched. It looked like someone had put up a fight.

“What do you mean, the lives of so many?” Bloodhound had seen no trace of others, aside from the coffee cup.

“I found a safe room,” Revenant said, giving a rich, dirty laugh as he pulled himself up and stepped closer. “Caught one just as he was trying to slip in the door. He’s in pieces now, although he put up a hell of a fight. Door won’t open though, not even to my prying. So…” He pulled a bloody scrap of cloth off his upper arm, and let it fall wetly to the stones at his feet. “I wrecked the thing from the outside, to make sure they couldn’t get out, and set the charges all around. Heh...not quite as personal as a face-to-face execution, but it’ll do. Hey...what's wrong, Salvonian?” He leaned over Fuse, dripping blood on his white t-shirt, on Fuse’s pale, staring face. “You’ve gone all pasty, and funny looking. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your nerve?”

At the last word, he lifted his gaze from Fuse, and trained it on Bloodhound. Bloodhound, who had the detonator in their hand.

Trial by fire.

“Don’t do it, Houndie!” Fuse said, shoving away from Revenant. He was still pale, but his voice, however desperate, held strength and determination. “Those people - they’re just workers! It’s a hard life in the outlands, you know it is! They take Hammond’s money, sure, but Hammond is the one funding the games, so they ain’t any different from all of us!”

“They know their crimes,” Revenant growled, grabbing Fuse by the jacket and dragging him back, away from the detonator. “Someone who sits by and does nothing, watching a throat get slit, is just as bad as the one wielding the knife. They’ve been sitting and watching for too long.” Revenant loomed over Bloodhound. “The little hunter knows there is only one choice, if they want to end their own guilt.”

“Ngh!” Fuse slipped free of his vest, darting around Revenant and grabbing Bloodhound’s arm, staring into their face. “Houndie. Houndie, listen to me. Just think a moment, aye? We can go back and let them out, tell them to run. We can still blow the place, we don’t need to kill a bunch of people-”

“This is not my hunt alone, Walter Fitzroy,” Bloodhound said, Revenant’s gaze burning into them, as guilt tore into their gut like a hungry wolf. “I… we had an agreement-”

“How much honor is there in killing defenseless people?” Fuse demanded, even as Revenant turned his yellow glare on him. “Do you really think you’ll be able to hold your head up after this, if you press that button now? Houndie…”

Fuse put both his hands on Bloodhound’s shoulders, staring into their face, not letting them avoid his gaze. “Weren’t your parents working for Hammond too, when they died? Would you push that button if you knew they were the ones hiding in a panic room, praying for help?”

Bloodhound was silent for a long moment. Even though they knew the truth. Even though they could feel Revenant’s wrathful stare, Fuse’s desperate grip, their own drumming heart.

It was too easy to imagine - the group of men and women huddled in a room, scared, unknowing, unarmed… Bloodhound remembered seeing their own father running from the wall of ice as it devoured the land.

They could not sentence others to the same fate. They would not be the force that cost some child or children their parents. They would not continue this cycle.

They lowered the detonator. “You are right, Walter. I-”

“Pathetic.” Revenant moved like a striking snake, lunging for Bloodhound’s hand, ripping the detonator out of their grip before they could so much as cry out.

Bloodhound shouted “No!” even as they drew their axe, even as they lunged for him. “Do not-!”

But as they moved, Revenant held up the detonator with an air of vicious satisfaction, and pushed the button.

The night lit with three simultaneous explosions.

“NO!” The sound left Bloodhound in a roar. They had activated their gear without thinking, and now they charged Revenant with a roar, axe swinging, missing, swinging again as he laughed, and dodged, and laughed.

“You thought you could betray me, dog?” He sneered, even as he ducked the whistling blade, even as he danced and slid, Raven’s Bite inches from his face. “You think I didn’t know your true core? Soft, that’s what you are, soft and wea-” His last words were cut out when Bloodhound’s boot struck his face, sending him onto his back.

“You had your hunt!” Bloodhound snarled, leaping onto him. They’d meant to land with both boots on his elbows, but one of his arms snaked around, catching them by the belt and ripping them free. They tumbled away but came up on their feet, charging him again. “You had your kills!”

“They weren’t enough.” Revenant was on his feet, slipping back from Bloodhound’s swipes, teasingly out of reach. “They’ll NEVER be enough, not until the whole thing burns, not until Hammond is begging to be put down like a rabid dog-”

The ground shook beneath their feet as the noise of the explosions continued. Bloodhound’s boot slid a few inches, but Revenant, mid-step, fell back, staggering with the moving earth, steadying himself with one knee on the rocks.

Bloodhound took their chance and leapt for him, snarling, blade flashing in the fiery light as they arced it towards his head-

Fuse caught their wrist before they could connect. “That’s enough.”

For a moment all three were frozen in place - Revenant on his knees, Bloodhound’s axe trembling an inch from his face, Fuse’s arm muscles bulging with the effort it took to hold them back. “Houndie,” he said, and his voice was tired, even if his face was hard as stone. “It’s done.”

Bloodhound couldn’t speak. Their whole body trembled with effort, with emotion. How could this have happened? They made their choice, and yet-

The ground shook again, making all three of them stagger. As one, they realized something was wrong, the explosions were going on too long. As one they turned, looking at the Harvester.

It had turned itself on. Worse, it was going at full blast, making a noise none of them had heard before, the ground around its three legs shuddering and splitting, cracks racing out across the earth in all directions.

Revenant turned his gaze towards Bloodhound and Fuse. “Where the hell did you guys plant those charges?”

“In...in the control room,” Bloodhound said, their lenses ablaze with the ever-brightening light. “We did not put any on the machine itself-”

“So you idiots blew up the only thing that applied any sort of regulation or control to...that…” Revenant looked back at the beam shooting into space, the lava bubbling and gurgling through the ever widening cracks. “We’re all dead.”

“Nah, look…” Fuse pointed to the legs of the thing. The ground had continued to crumble beneath the device as it decimated the location. The legs were giving way, the entire structure sinking into the lava welling up from the earth. “It’s not gonna last much longer! The heat should overwhelm it, it wasn’t built to work buried in molten rock-”

“I pray to the Allfather that you are right,” Bloodhound said, their eyes on the cracked ground. The cracks that were now racing their direction. “But in the meantime, let us move. This place will not be stable for long.”

They couldn’t look at Revenant, couldn’t face the Simulacrum and what he had done - what they had allowed him to do. They turned and ran - away from the cracks, away from the new horror that would lay upon their tired shoulders. Fuse ran at their side, puffing and jingling, and Revenant followed behind them both, a barely audible shadow.

If they could just make it to high ground, Bloodhound thought as they ran, they might be safe. There was heavier stone not far ahead, part of the mountainous walls that held World’s Edge in their grip. If they could make it to the solid stone, the bones of the earth…

...but they were not going fast enough. The ground continued to shake, the cracking of rock and spitting of lava getting closer and closer behind them. Bloodhound had just used their boost, they could not speed ahead. Fuse was keeping up, but his breath came hard, Bloodhound doubted he was used to a flat out sprint for an extended period of time. And Revenant…

...Revenant was pulling ahead. Revenant had longer legs, did not tire, had no breath to catch as he leapt across the unstable earth and scrambled up the rocky feet of the surrounding mountains. By the time Bloodhound and Fuse had reached the base, he was already on top, looking down on them both, lit in the orangey-red destruction as smoke billowed into the night sky, smudging the blackness and starlight into nothing but greys.

Bloodhound leapt for the first handhold - just in time. The cracks hit where they had stood moments before, angry red, but unmoving against the stone. Bloodhound looked over and saw with relief that Walter, too, had made it, his metallic arm latched firmly onto a stone handhold, even as his flesh hand gave Bloodhound a thumbs up.

Together, they began to climb, Revenant looming above them. Bloodhound could not guess what he was thinking. Would he kill them, for breaking their end of the bargain? Would he stand above as they reached the top, threatening to throw them down unless Bloodhound told him what he wanted to know about Loba?

All these fears and more crossed Bloodhound’s mind as they climbed the rocky face, the heat of the lava below soaking through their layers and making them sweat. All these fears were like icy needles in their heart as they listened to Walter laboring behind them, doing the best he could even as tremors continued to shake the ground.

Bloodhound got one arm over the top of the ledge. They looked up at Revenant, his yellow eyes the only light left in the smoke-choked sky.

He made no move to stop them, and said no word of protest or threat. Bloodhound heaved themself the rest of the way up, and got shakily to their feet, turning to look out, over the destruction they had wrought. The Harvester was sinking, now, its laser-light sputtering on and off as its huge frame disappeared, consumed by the very ground it had been devouring.

At least something had been accomplished. At least it was all over.

Bloodhound paced back to the edge, and knelt to offer Fuse a hand. “We did it, Felagi.”

“Hell yeah we did,” he said, smiling up at them and slapping his good hand into theirs. “Never doubted you for a second, Houndie-”

The Harvester exploded. The force of it threw Bloodhound back from the edge, slamming them into a rocky face and cracking one of their lenses. For a second they couldn’t move, stunned by the blast, and the colors dancing before their eyes, the wind knocked entirely from their system.

And then they remembered - Fuse! He hadn’t been all the way up!

They scrambled to their feet, panic seizing them by the throat. They looked around - but the light of the explosion had destroyed their night vision - they couldn’t see anything in the darkness! Nothing was visible but the streams of lava in the distance! Even Revenant was no longer there-

Automatically Bloodhound sent out a scan, and saw-

Below, halfway down the ledge, a heat signature.

They scrambled forwards, barely keeping from toppling off the rocky face themselves. Down below, braced against a much smaller ledge, Revenant had caught Fuse by his booted foot. Even as Bloodhound stared, he pulled the Salvonian up, away from the rubble and lava below. The strength it took to do so one handed must have been massive. They took a moment - Bloodhound couldn’t hear the words they exchanged - but eventually they both began the climb again, Revenant now keeping pace with Fuse’s slower ascent.

Up they came, Revenant pulling Fuse over the ledge by the back of his vest and depositing him at Bloodhound’s feet, his eyes locked on Bloodhound’s masked face. “You owe me one, Hound,” he said. “More than one, I think.”

Bloodhound ignored him, kneeling at Fuse’s side. “Are you alright?” they asked, hating how their voice broke over the question.

“Y-yeah,” Fuse said, his own voice unsteady. “Yeah. Uh. Yeah. You know what...I think I’ll have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow, if Blisk will let me.”

Bloodhound didn’t have the heart to laugh. But they put a hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and said, “I think he will let you. If not...I’ll have a word with him.”

“He might be having a word with you first, after this,” Fuse said, looking out at the destruction. There were fires burning in the other buildings that had been destroyed by the charges. “And me too. Probably not Revenant though, aye?”

“Heh, I’d like to see him try.” Revenant said.

“I’d pay good money to watch that conversation,” Fuse said with a grin. He pushed himself up, but immediately staggered - Bloodhound had to step forwards to support him. “He grabbed me pretty hard,” Fuse said, wincing as he tested his weight on his foot. “These boots weren’t made to protect against sims, I reckon. Gonna have a Revenant-hand shaped mark for a while. Or maybe just some broken toes. ”

“Wear them with pride,” Revenant said, turning and walking away. “You’re one of very few skinbags who can boast that I saved their lives.”

“I’ll buy you a drink as thanks,” Fuse said, grinning at him. “And ah...yeah, Houndie, you too, aye? That was…” He looked back over the wrecked landscape, his eyes haunted. “Well. I think I’m not the only one who would like to forget a few moments of tonight’s adventure.”

“No,” Bloodhound agreed, slinging his arm around their shoulder and helping him limp back towards the ship. “You are not the only one.”

The team began their long trek back. They were silent for the most part, Fuse too focused on keeping up the pace while putting as little strain as possible on his wrenched foot, Bloodhound still reeling over the shock of both their victory of a serious blow struck at Hammond, and the loss of life it had cost.

And Revenant…

Bloodhound turned their gaze on the Simulacrum, walking silently at their side. He had been the cause of all the deaths tonight, and yet he had saved Fuse, when he could have let him die.

Revenant met their gaze, his face expressionless as always, and Bloodhound shivered.

They were used to understanding him - being able to predict every choice he made out of spite or malice. But this, they did not understand. And as grateful as they were for his help, as much as they told themselves he had probably just done it for leverage, to have some reason to pry information from Bloodhound later, they still could not shake the feeling that perhaps there were deeper layers to the Simulacrum than they had guessed.

It was strange, to not be able to see him clearly, after so long of thinking they understood him.

Perhaps, eventually, Bloodhound would be glad of it. Perhaps eventually they would hope there was still some kind of soul in that metal shell, something more than the mindless killing machine he worked so hard to be sure everyone thought he was.

But for now, Bloodhound didn’t have the mental capacity to dwell on eventualities. They ached, body and soul, and they wanted nothing more than to drink themselves into a stupor at Fuse’s side.

They would have time to think tomorrow. Tonight, it was time to let go, for at least a little while, and to pray their dreams would not be haunted by visions of what had been lost on this adventure.