Another log crackles in the flame as Donovan throws it, ash billowing up in a show of reds and oranges. Donovan groans as he sits, his bag tumbling down with him. Charlotte pats him on the arm, a smile cresting her thin face. Anthony takes his seat next, far enough to have distance, though close enough to be associated with them.

  “That’s the first day down.” Anthony mutters, running a hand through his now mud addled hair. Liv hangs her head, her eyes locked on the flame. She hadn’t helped once.

  That wasn’t true in a literal sense, but she hadn’t helped in a way nobody else could. She had found her explosions, while powerful, had to be generated by her own body to have enough power to actually hurt any of the demons. While usable, it was entirely impractical when Donovan and Charlotte could easily surround and kill one in mere moments. She wasn’t that good at navigating the forest either, that particular skill falling into Donovan’s purview. Since Anthony took up the role as the pseudo “leader” and strategist while Charlotte filled the general gaps in knowledge, It left Liv– effectively– useless. She had to settle as bait, distracting and dodging the demons with senses and instinct.

  “We’ve gone quite far, haven’t we?” Charlotte says, an unusual cheer present in her voice.

  “Dream team!” Donovan celebrates, even as he lays back on the mud. Liv looks onward at them, covered in a layer of mud and grime, her bag biting into her shoulder. She sets it down with a soft, wet thwap, following its trajectory quickly. They’ve found water sources here, though they’re just as disgusting as the mud; moreover, they seem to have nearly double the amount of demons as the regular swamp proper. The fact that it smelled even to her impervious nose spoke to the putrid rankness of it, compounded by it drying on her skin.

  Anthony adjusts the base of the flame, his other hand periodically tossing kindling into the ever hungry maw of the fire. He turns to Charlotte, his hand gesturing to a particularly dry part of the forest.

  “Could you go set up the tents, please?”

  Charlotte nods respectfully, pushing herself up in a single, fluid motion. She quickly zips open her bag, carrying both tents toward said spot.

  “Got anything for me, boss man?” Donovan teases, though there's more than a hint of genuineness in his tone.

  “Unless you want to go help Charlotte, no.” Anthony throws another handful of kindling into the flame, pots and pans springing from his bag to his hands.

  “Awesome possum.” Donovan kicks back, languidly stretching before flopping on his bag. While they were all covered in mud to an extent, Donovan had avoided it as much as humanly possible. Liv and Charlotte had to hold him back from jumping in the murky, demon infested waters when they found it. His aversion to filth was only rivaled by his continuous need to bicker with Charlotte; though, she was equally as guilty in the exchange.

  Liv pushes her hands near the flame, watching as her gauntlets begin to glow like flashlights. Whatever light was beyond the clouds has already vanished, leaving their flame the only illumination throughout the entire swamp.

  Anthony places one of his pots above the fire, filled to the brim with water. Liv pushes her knees closer to her chest, scooting closer to the flame herself. Though it wasn’t outright freezing, it was cold enough to send shivers down her spine– a windless cold that seeped into one's bones.

  Charlotte walks back in short order, a small bead of sweat trailing down the ridge of her brow. She deftly wipes it, reclaiming her seat next to Donovan.

  “All the tents have been set up.” She proclaims, her hands placed firmly on her lap.

  “Thank you, Charlotte.” Anthony says, his gaze peeling away from the pot for long enough to give Charlotte a small nod. He turns his gaze to Liv afterward. “Liv, you take first watch.”

  “Me?” Liv questions, her voice gaining a note of incredulity it didn’t have before. “Why the hell do I gotta do it!? I was the one doin’ it last time!”

  “Because these two are completely out of Synth Charges.” Anthony responds, his voice not betraying any of the emotion brewing within– if there was any, that is. “It’s just more efficient if you take the first watch.”

  Liv grumbles halfheartedly, though she can’t really find a hole in the logic. She’d, at least, be useful, even if she loathed it with all her heart. Anthony nods at her silent confirmation, not needing the verbal component to understand her meaning. Charlotte senses the awkward atmosphere, a trickle of sympathy worming its way into her mind. She would take first watch if she could… She was beaten, though. She loathes to admit it, but she isn’t so sure she’d be able to fend a demon off long enough for everyone to get ready. After a bit of silence, a flash of realization crosses her mind, a smile spreading across her sharp face.

  “Liv,” She starts. “You said you wanted to know about the founding Initiates, yes?”

  Liv raises her head slowly, interest gnawing away a bit of the blues plaguing her soul. She had forgotten she wanted to know about that, even if her questioning of it hadn’t been that long ago.

  “‘Spose I don’t mind.” Liv says, her eyes returning to the crackling flames.

  Charlotte nods, clearing her throat before speaking in a calm, powerful voice. “When the Initiative started, there were four founding members. They were said to be nature made man, calamities in flesh formed divine. They fought as a team for seven years before vanishing off the face of the planet. The stories attribute their weapons as the ones they hold-.”

  “Which is false.” Anthony interjects, earning a sideways glance from Charlotte.

  “It would be your word against hundreds of eyewitness testimonies,” Charlotte responds, her eyebrow arching acquisitively. “As well as the numerous texts written on them.”

  “I’ve seen a piece of the set for myself. If it wasn’t a Synth Weapon before, it is now.”

  Charlotte’s eyebrows spike up, though her head quickly flips back to Liv as the shorter woman clears her throat. “Can y’all get back on track?”

  “...Yes.” Charlotte says slowly, staring at Anthony through her periphery. If he noticed, he either didn’t care or didn’t acknowledge it. “They vanished after entering a Strata one day, and they were never seen again… At least, I was under the assumption they weren’t seen again.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Anthony doesn’t respond once more, his attention entirely dead set on the pot before him. Donovan pipes up from his laying position, his eyes locked on the rolling clouds above.

  “So what if they’re dead?” Donovan inquires, one leg crossing over the other, his hands resting beneath his head. “I know we need all boots on the ground and stuff, but we still got Group A out there, especially Micah. Isn’t he, like, stronger than them?”

  Charlotte hesitates for a moment, genuinely mulling the question over in her mind. After a moment of gathering her thoughts, she responds, her tone unsure. “I believe he may match them, though I am unsure if he is collectively as strong as the group of them.”

  “He’s got more epithets, though.” Donovan teases, a chuckle peeling from his lips.

  “While you are joking,” Charlotte says, a smile creeping across her own face. “You’re probably correct. Terrifying how one can be known by so many things at once for their power.”

  “That all?” Liv questions, interrupting her team's small conversation. “Just a bunch of old people who ain’t alive no more.”

  “Perhaps.” Charlotte responds. “But it’s fascinating to learn anyway, is it not?”

  “‘Spose not.” Liv murmurs. The conversation enters a bit of a lull, more about the day's events and the plan for tomorrow than anything else. After a bit, Anthony looks back to the pot, his finger slowly dipping into its depths. He pulls it back quickly, a wince running across his face.

  “Waters ready.” He says, a sigh escaping his lips. Donovan quickly produces four MRE’s, tossing them between the group. Liv accepts hers, water pouring into their depths. She stirs them absent mindedly, not truly in the mood for a meal at the current moment. That's when it hits her. She had a way to store them! She smiles as she unzips her own bag, hefting the minifridge from its depths. Before she can put any batteries in the thing, a peel of chuckles catches her attention. Those chuckles quickly evolve into a full blown belly laugh, the source becoming evidently clear as Donovan falls back on the floor, his hands clutching at his stomach. Charlotte looks on in evident shock, her lips sucked into her mouth as mirthful tears sting at her eyes. Anthony stares in pure shock, though something else seemed to brew in his mind.

  “What?” Liv questions, her attention split between keeping her food upright and inserting batteries into the ancient device.

  “You brought that thing?” Anthony murmurs slowly, his tone less than jovial.

  “I reckoned it’d be useful.” Liv says, patting her minifridge on the side with pride. “Seems I was right too. Ain’t hungry, so I can store my food easy like!”

  Anthony sucks a deep breath through his nose, though the reddening of his face betrays the anger that lies just beneath the surface of his calm visage. “So, instead of saying you weren’t hungry, you wasted a meal?”

  “No?” Liv says, patting the fridge once more. “Not wastin’. I can store ‘em right ‘ere.”

  “Liv-.” Anthony starts, stopping just in time to suppress the yell that threatens to tear from his throat. He tears at his hair, another cascade of air expelling from his lungs in a single push. “Ok, so you brought a hundred pound relic instead of just saying you weren’t hungry? Did I get that right?”

  “Yer puttin’ it awfully negative.” Liv responds slowly. When he put it like that, it seemed like a bit of a poor decision. With how they handled the entire thing, it made her training seem useless too. Still, she knew neither were! She knew it was a good purchase. It had to be. “But yer lookin’ at it the wrong way! I mean… Yer not, but ya are! Ya just gotta trust me on this!”

  Donovan slowly comes down from his fit of laughing, a sigh escaping his mouth, tears streaming down his face. He manages to sit himself upright once more, a sigh escaping his mouth. “Oh my god, Liv. How did you even fit that in your bag?”

  “Packin’ light?” Liv says slowly, her eyes peeling away from the still seething Anthony to Donovan. “I also had to remove some of those MRE’s, but I reckon it was worth it.”

  “You WHAT!?” Anthony shrieks, his hand bunching further in his hair. His breathing increases in rapidity, a sputtering over his words before finally managing to string together a coherent sentence. “You threw away valuable meals for a glorified trinket!?”

  “It ain’t a trinket.” Liv reiterates, a vein bulging up on her forehead. “And I only had to get rid of ‘bout four of ‘em-.”

  “FOUR?!” Anthony screams, the trees rustling with the power behind his words. “Liv, that’s a day’s worth of meals! How the hell are we supposed to continue like this if you’re just throwing away meals for something that hasn’t been in use since before Hellfire existed!”

  “Reckon I won’t eat then.” Liv counter, patting the small fridge with her gauntleted hand.. “Or I could eat y’alls leftovers. We can store ‘em in the fridge!”

  “Or we could’ve four meals and a lighter load!” Anthony says, his tone growing more indignant. “Seriously, why can’t you just make smart decisions for a single second!”

  “Oi.” Liv growls, her already sour mood curdling into a deep seated annoyance. “I was right ‘bout the town, and yer the one who messed up on the village!”

  “I did the right thing killing that demon!” Anthony slaps his hand against his chest as if to emphasize his point. “I can’t cure corruption, Liv! Nobody can!”

  “Then why didn’t ya tell me that!?”

  “BECAUSE YOU’RE SO DUMB!” Anthony finally snaps, his face coming to his hands. He heaves for a moment, the words finally setting in for Liv. She can feel a sinking feeling in her stomach, a flush rising to her face. She can't tell if it's from the embarrassment or the overwhelming, white hot rage searing through body. Before she can respond with her own yells, Anthony starts once more. “Trying to get you to do anything that requires you to use a modicum of brain power is harder than slaying any demon! I don’t know if you have some sort of defect, if you’re so pure that you truly think everything can and will go right, or if you’re so dumb that you just don’t want to listen to reason! This isn’t a game, Liv. There are stakes to this, and those stakes are death and dismemberment! If you want to test the waters on your own time, that’s fine by me– but do that on your own time. If you want to get everyone killed because you think you’re some sort of meta genius who’s birthright is to climb the scales, then leave everyone here out of it! Because if you get us all killed, that’s not just on you. It’s on me too.”

  Silence overtakes the group, the pot of water of the flame near to boiling over. Charlotte, with her infinite social skills, awkwardly takes the pot off the flame, pushing out as many placating words as she can manage.

  “I believe that's enough.” She gives Liv a supportive glance, though it's lost in the sea of mutual anger shared between the two teammates. “Fighting will get us nowhere. Why don’t you two get some rest, I can take the first watch.”

  Liv shoots up, the fridge clattering to the mud with a wet thwap. She looks down at it with a mix of rage and grief. She tenses, preparing to kick it, to destroy it, to just get the damn thing out of her face… But she can’t manage the will. She scoops it up once more, shoving it in her back while turning heel, walking toward the curling trees.

  “Where the hell are you going!?” Anthony calls. Liv halts for a moment, her hands shaking as they clench at her sides.

  “I’m gonna finish it all on my own.” She calls back, straining to keep her voice within the ballpark of calm. “Since ya think I’m so ‘dumb’. Well I don’t need ya. Didn’t need anyone ‘fore I came to Hellfire, didn’t need anyone durin’, and I won’t need ya after. You can keep yer team dynamic. I’m goin’.”

  “That’s-!” Anthony starts, though his words quickly die as a mini-fridge sails toward his head. He manages to duck it, the small piece of ancient technology sinking into the muddy ground. By the time he, and everyone else, looks back– Liv’s gone, vanished into the trees.