Alexa stumbled into camp hours later, as the sun was falling. Her body was a mess. The potion had kept her alive, but it didn't fix everything. She was barely conscious, her vision blurred by pain and exhaustion. Her eyes stung, and her tears had all dried up over her long trek back. Her clothes were still wet from the blood of a dozen minor wounds that failed to fully heal.

  She was surrounded by people. Voices calling out in concern. Hands grabbing at her, steadying her. She didn't pay them any heed. She just kept walking. She needed to find her tent. Her team's tent. She needed to lie down and rest. To sleep.

  She didn't make it.

  The world went dark as her legs gave out from under her. She collapsed, falling to the ground in a heap. Her head struck the dirt. She didn't feel the impact. Her body was numb. The voices around her faded. Everything went quiet. And she slept.

  Two days had passed since the battle ended. The Vex were dead. The hive had been purged. Not a single egg nor pupa was left alive. Scouts still scanned the area for any possible survivors, but none had been sighted so far.

  The army was in a celebratory mood, the soldiers drunk and merry. The night was bright, torches burning, music playing. The air was filled with laughter and joy. Adventurer teams joined in the merriment, drinking barrels full of ale and rum and engaging in playful banter with the soldiers. The atmosphere was festive and carefree.

  But not for her.

  Alexa sat alone in her tent, her knees drawn up to her chest, her remaining arm wrapped around them. She wore a simple cloth shirt, her wounds dressed. Her shredded scraps of armor had been removed. They were unsalvageable, and would have to be melted down back into raw materials and resold. She had nothing. No weapon. No shield. Not even her friends. Her teammates. Her comrades. She had no one. She was alone.

  She felt empty. Hollow. A gaping void in her chest that no amount of drink or food or song would fill.

  All she had left were memories. Memories of three adventurers who had set out together for glory and gold. Who had fought side by side for years, who had become closer than family. Memories of two people who had died so that she could live. She sobbed quietly. She didn't want to cry, but she couldn't help herself. She couldn't stop the tears. She couldn't stop the pain.

  All she had left were memories and a promise. She made a promise, and she was going to keep it. Relcter's family deserved to know what happened. She owed him everything. And that child, she would bend the heavens and the earth to make that child have a good life. No matter what. And Johnathan's partner, she would tell that girl just how much the man had cared for her. She would make sure they were all taken care of.

  At sunset on the third and final day of the mission, Alexa stood and marched out of the tent. Her team bled and died for this mission. It was time they paid up. Her face was hard and her eyes were cold as she marched to the paymaster's tent.

  The officer, the very same man that had signed their mission, contract, was sitting at a small wooden desk with papers spread across it. He glanced up as she entered the tent.

  "I've come to collect the bounty."

  The man didn't recognize her at first. Fair, given that he had likely worked with hundreds of adventurers over the last few days. But she was not in the mood to offer him much grace.

  "Adventuring party, Platinum Fist." She explained. "We had closed at least a dozen tunnels. Killed 5 Vex. 2 Juggernauts, 3 Reapers. I've come to claim the reward. I submitted my report yesterday."

  The officer paused for a moment, studying her. After a second he seemed to recall her. He gave the tired sigh of someone who was more than ready to go home and flipped through a few papers.

  "Ah, here it is." He said. "Looks like we have you registered for fifteen confirmed tunnel closures, five confirmed Vex killed. Party of three...? Ah, only survivor. I see." His tone was completely without emotion. Just the monotone droning of a bored salaryman. He looked up from his papers, his eyes meeting hers. "You will receive 120 delwin standards for your work. Would you like the coins upfront, or transferred to a local bank?"

  Alexa stared at him for a few seconds, her mouth hanging open. The man's face was blank. His eyes were cold. He showed no sign of compassion or sympathy, only a mild annoyance at having to deal with another adventurer.

  Alexa's fist tightened. She was shaking, her teeth clenched. This man... this bastard didn't even flinch when she said her whole team had died. He didn't care. And that sum...

  "Sir, my party was promised 100 delwin each. You're short changing us by 180 coins."

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  The officer sighed and shook his head. "That is correct, one hundred each. However, as you are the only survivor, you will receive 100 delwin, as agreed, as well as an additional 20 delwin in compensation for your missing limb. You are the sole claimant on this bounty."

  The man's voice was matter-of-fact, his tone indifferent. He had the gall to sound annoyed that she was taking up his valuable time.

  Alexa's fist tightened even further, her knuckles white. She felt a surge of anger and rage, but she held it back. "And why, are my fallen comrades not getting their full rewards? They worked for them. Died for them." Her voice was cold and flat, barely restrained anger lacing every word. "Or are you telling me their families aren't getting a single damn delwinbit for their loss?"

  "As stated in the contract, all active members of the expedition will be paid their due. As your friends are no longer active, they are no longer eligible for payment owed. We will not be paying out the full reward."

  Alexa saw red. The fury that had been building inside her finally broke free, and her hand lashed out, knocking away the cup of tea that had been sitting on the officer's desk, spilling its contents onto the ground. She stomped forward, almost reaching for the man.

  "How dare you!" She yelled. "My friends died! They gave their lives for this mission! And you're going to sit there and tell me you won't pay out their full bounties!? That their families won't be compensated for their deaths!?" She was seething. Her eyes were burning, her breathing heavy. She wanted to strangle this man. To kill him. To rip his throat out with her bare hand.

  The man didn't flinch. He remained seated, staring at her. He merely scowled at the loss of his beverage. An instant later, three guards burst into the large tent, weapons raised. They pointed their swords at Alexa, ready to strike her down if she so much as moved.

  The officer waved them away, his gaze never leaving her face. "Now then," he said calmly, "If you're done making a scene, please make your choice on how you would like to receive your payment. If not, then kindly let those men escort you to the prison card, and allow me to resume my work."

  Alexa kept her death glare on him for a handful of seconds, before she felt her heart sink. She was helpless. She could do nothing, here. All she could do was stand there, trembling, her eyes filled with hate and anger. Ultimately, she was forced to take a deep breath and relent.

  "I'll take the coins upfront."

  The officer nodded. "Very well." Without another word, he pulled out a large sack and began to count out her payment. The guards kept their full attention on her as the officer counted, making sure she didn't try to sneak any extra.

  When he was done, he pushed the stack of coins towards her and put his coin pouch away under the desk. Likely in a magical safe of some kind. She swiped her bounty off the desk and stormed out, radiating helpless frustration.

  She went back to her tent and flopped down on her bedroll, ignoring the pain the movements caused her. She sat there in a daze, staring at nothing. After some time, she looked down at her hand. She opened it and looked at her palm. It was covered in blood. Her fingernails had dug into her skin. She stared at it for a while, her mind racing, her thoughts scattered.

  She needed to get back. She needed to tell Relcter's wife the news. She needed to tell that poor little girl that her father was a hero. She need to pay for her recovery. She needed to...

  She needed her friends back.

  And she wanted, oh how she wanted them all to suffer for what they took from her. The army, the Vex. All of them. Let them all burn for all she cared.

  She couldn't sleep that night, so lost was she in her brooding. Eventually, sometime near midnight, she decided. She knew what she would do next. Her face twisted as the plan started to form in her mind, but it was the only thing she could think of at the moment. It was a stupid tantrum of a plan, but it was something to keep her hand busy, at least.

  She sat up and pulled on a set of clothes and grabbed her bag. She then left the tent and made her way out of camp, slipping away into the darkness. She made her way through the woods, taking care to hide her tracks and keep her presence hidden. It didn't matter if they found out she'd left, but the beasts of the forest were a whole different matter.

  Eventually, after about an hour of walking, she reached her destination. A familiar tunnel, and a bloody clearing. The site where her team had died.

  There were no remains left of her team. Animals had long since picked the area clean. So instead she gathered up all the discarded equipment in the surroundings. Scraps of bloodied clothing, twisted chunks of metal and leather, and even the packs that the other two had once carried. Anything and everything she could find. She buried everything in a small grave, keeping only the coins they carried with a promise every single one would go to their families.

  She stayed there for a few moments, collecting herself. Then, she spoke aloud. "I'm sorry, Johnathan. I'm so sorry. You deserved better than this. Better than all of this. You were a good man, and I will miss you dearly." Her voice was soft and quiet, barely audible over the wind. "And Relcter, you bastard. I'm going to make sure your girl grows up safe. I promise. She'll never know hardship. She'll never know pain or sadness. She'll be happy and loved. I'll see to it. For you."

  She planted a stick vertically at the head of the grave and hung her head to grieve.

  Then, when she had nothing left to give, she stood, dusted off her knees, and made her way to the tunnel.

  The Vex were not an advanced species. Crafting of any type was considered far beyond them. And while they had no use for concepts like currency, the Vex were known to be hoarders. When raiding towns and villages, drones always returned to the hive with armfuls of various junk. The vast majority of it all was worthless trash, seemingly collected without rhyme or reason. However, sometimes in fallen hives, it was possible to score a lucky break and find something worth salvaging. It was rare, sure, but not unheard of.

  It was true that many, many people had already made their way through the catacombs of the nest, purging it and no doubt picking up a few trinkets along the way. But Alexa was desperate and far from a rational state of mind. She was convinced that they had to have missed something. Something good that she could sell when she got back to the city and make up for what the army stole.

  And so, with a torch in her hand, fresh from her pack, she made her way down the winding tunnel.