Mickie made it to the first turn before he heard the synchronised applause. Soon after that the roar of the waking beast rattled through the city. Mickie felt the moment when the creature realised it would not be receiving another dose of the drug. There was a brief silence, followed by a bellow of such complete indignation that it was almost comical.

  Then, just as he made it to the broken region’s edge, the lights went out. Already darting between bent sections of steel, Mickie lost his footing almost immediately. He was sent bouncing between ridges of sharp metal, Miz-Mag screeching as it was dislodged from his shoulder.

  The branded man groaned and rolled over, the world coated in a heavy fog of darkness. From nearby there came a slow litany of curses as his partner righted itself.

  ‘Mag, over here.’

  Mickie whispered, and the squeaky voice drew closer.

  ‘Damned city and its damned lights. Should have just dug our way free of the stinkin’ Labyrinth. If I get out of…’

  Anything else Miz-Mag might have said was drowned out by an almighty crash from the city centre. It was followed by another, and another, as the giant pulled itself up and out of the pipe. When the sounds of its ascent faded away, the little demon had made it back to Mickie, neither of them daring to make a sound. The beast was snuffling and stomping somewhere in the distance, no doubt searching for its elusive fix. The last thing they wanted to do was attract its ire.

  It was to their collective dismay then, when the sounds of the unseen giant drew closer. The pair began to hear the screech of warping steel alongside the pad of heavy feet. Each step would follow a long pause, an extended period in which the monster sniffed at the air.

  ‘Kid, it’s coming for us. I think it has our scent.’

  Miz-Mag whispered right into his ear. The branded man bit back a curse as there came yet another calamitous step. His partner was right, the monster was heading right for them.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, Mickie lifted himself from the ground and started to edge backwards. He slid a foot forward, it bumped into metal, he raised it over, and stepped. From behind came a chorus of breaths, like wind through innumerable bellows. The branded man swore he could feel the air gusting against his back.

  He achieved another few small steps before the monster grunted and moved closer. It was no good, the beast simply covered too much ground. Mickie would never outrun it, not if it could smell him. If only he could see, he could gauge how far away it was. What was the point of getting new eyes if they failed to even help him? Another slow few steps away, then the beast moved. On his shoulder Miz-Mag hissed.

  ‘Kid, this isn’t working.’

  Mickie’s mind whirled, desperately searching for a solution, some way he could escape the giant. He felt the orb lamp, pressing against his side within his jacket pocket. Could he throw it as a distraction? No, the beast would spot the orb the moment he lit it up to toss. What Mickie needed was some way to set it off remotely, so it would light up only when he was completely clear.

  ‘Kid.’

  Miz-Mag dragged the word out, almost whining. The statement gave Mickie pause, drawing his attention to the fiend. A thought occurred, something that might help him put on some distance.

  ‘Hey Mag, I’m going to need a favour.’

  It took more convincing than he had hoped, but less that he had expected, to send Miz-Mag away as a decoy. As neither of them could see, the fiend collected the orb lamp, and scurried away in a random direction.

  Mickie continued in his own sluggish half walk, getting as far from the monster as he could. His efforts continued to be in vain, and the beast grew closer with each step. He felt like a fish in the deep ocean, sensing a predator’s approach, yet unable to truly see it.

  Then, after what felt like an age, a small star blossomed in the distance. Light fell upon rows of ragged buildings, creating indistinct dark outlines and stretching shadows. Illuminated above it all was something vast. Mickie glimpsed its legs like the trunks of two monstrous trees, arms stretching out from its body like the spines of a sea urchin. Some of the limbs were pressed to the ground, helping to support the creature’s immense bulk.

  It paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate the light that bobbed along of its own accord. Then the monster roared, a terrible, multilayered cry that shook the world and hurt Mickie’s ears. It started pounding the ground, moving far swifter than its previous shambling shuffle. The branded man turned then, and under the distant light of the lamp, he ran.

  He had no clue where he was, no idea where to go except forward. Mickie sprinted as the beast raged at the distant lamp. The light dimmed dramatically as Miz-Mag took the orb into a broken house, just as they had planned. Once inside the demon would vanish, leaving the beast to rage at the lonely light.

  The branded man saw none of this, as he was too focussed upon gaining distance from their adversary. His only indication the beast was done was the gradual loss of eyesight, causing him to trip and stumble more often than not. The monster’s rage died along with the last of the light, and Mickie was once again left in darkness.

  He stumbled to a stop, catching his breath and simply listening for a moment. The beast gave a chorus of satisfied grunts, shuffling about in what was likely a pancaked block of buildings. Noting that it had yet to resume its pursuit, Mickie began to edge along the road. There came a distant creaking as the monster moved onto fresher ground. Ears straining, Mickie waited for the moment he heard the inhalation of breath that indicated it was back on his trail.

  Only, that telltale rasp of air never came. Instead, the beast shuffled its titanic bulk about and continued to grunt. The tone of its sounds had shifted somewhat, lightening, as if in interest. When the monster started to walk away, Mickie almost laughed in relief. It looked as if he was no longer of interest.

  When the grunts shifted into an angry grumble, he began to worry. Then he caught a glimpse of dull red light reflecting off something vast, and that worry compounded into fear. Mickie realised then, that he had led the beast into the ruined section of the city. Right towards their home base.

  Runes did not glow very bright, but if there was enough of them and the ambient light was negligible, they were noticeable. Now, drawn close and with a substantial height advantage, the monster had noticed their recent excavation efforts. If the roar it gave was any indication, their oversized enemy did not find the sight amusing.

  ‘Oh shit.’

  Caution replaced by panic, Mickie began a shuffling run towards the vague impression of the beast. He hardly got more than a few steps before a new sound joined the cacophony. An avian caw cut through the air, and something blurred upwards through the crimson light.

  The beast’s reaction to hearing Ziz was that of a bull seeing red. It exploded forward, closing the last of the distance to the dim glow, and blocking the light entirely. After that the world became a black roar of breaking steel and angry monsters.

  The branded man tried to reassure himself, thinking that Ziz had evaded the beast once before. Only, the last time they had fled the creature, the avian had some light by which to see. Now however, it was in the dark and dangerously close.

  From the gloom there came a strangled squawk. Mickie’s heart dropped at the implication of what it might mean. Then, just as suddenly, there was a tremendous cracking noise, like the shattering of stone. The monster let loose an overlapping howl of such potent fury that it could only indicate pain, and something large crashed to the ground.

  Mickie tripped and slammed into something hard, likely a wall. What he would have given for the chance to see what was happening. If there were only some way he could get just a modicum light for his eyes to use. The branded man paused midway to his feet, almost toppling back over as the beast shook the ground.

  He did have a way to produce light, one that he could never lose. Straightening, Mickie held out his hand and called forth his gun. The moment bone contacted skin he began to pump power into the weapon, charging it. As he did, the grilles on its body began to glow with an internal light.

  Mickie continued to draw from his soul, loading the weapon with far more than was safe. It set the internals of the gun aglow, powering it enough to illuminate his immediate surroundings. The ragged street came into view as the monster continued to swipe at Ziz. Mickie tried to see his companion in the air, to gauge if there was a gorgon upon its back. The best he got was a vague outline of the beast’s titanic bulk.

  Now able to see, Mickie started running right at the monster. Even if all he achieved was a minor distraction, that might be all Ziz needed to get away. The giant had shifted from their home base’s original position and was now gradually bulldozing a fresh section of the city. Mickie crossed from shredded to smooth roads as he pursued, closing on their titanic foe.

  It was vague, but up ahead he noted the shadowy outlines of buildings giving way to open air. Somehow, they had circled round in the dark and come right back to the city centre. From up above there came another cracking sound, followed by a scream of pain from the monster. Mickie was almost squashed flat as the beast abruptly staggered backwards.

  A giant leg passed right overhead, crashing down on a building right beside where he ran. Caught between diving to the ground and hiding against a nearby wall, he noticed the monster’s limb.

  Having glimpsed the creature’s arms before, and after hearing Kalistra’s description of the Hecatoncheires, Mickie had expected an oversized human foot. Instead, what he saw was a pillar of brown fur, stretching up atop a massive, two-toed hoof.

  ‘What in the…’

  Before he could get the words out, the monster lunged forward. He heard steel tearing and saw chunks of the surrounding city lift into the air. The titan hurled a collection of buildings like a pocketful of sand, and finally, it got lucky.

  Ziz let loose a cry of sudden pain, and a bronze shape dropped into the range of Mickie’s makeshift lamp. The branded man was running towards the primordial’s spiralling form in an instant. There came a tremendous roar of victory from above as Ziz crashed into the ground beside the open pipe.

  Mickie flew towards the city centre, but even his fastest speed was nothing compared to their adversary’s monstrous stride. A cloven hoof crashed down ahead of him, blocking the primordial from view momentarily. When the branded man next caught sight of Ziz, his companion had partially risen from the ground.

  Its struggles indicated that something was broken, but Mickie could not see what in the weak light. What he did notice was a figure atop the avian’s back, little more than an outline and a flicker of bronze. An arm thudded down upon the steel floor, then another, and another. The monster had cornered its prey, and now it appeared that it wanted to play.

  Mickie pumped his legs harder, pushing out in the open, trying to get to his companions. It was not going to be enough, Ziz released a defiant screech as the beast lowered a body thick with arms into view. They sprouted from all directions, like the spines of a porcupine, and beyond them, was the monster’s head.

  It took Mickie’s brain a moment to parse what he was seeing. The top of the beast was a mess of brown fur, bloodshot eyes, and dark, sharpened horns that twisted and punctured flesh. It did not have one head, it had dozens, and they were those of a bull. Several jaws opened, and the beast rumbled out its victory.

  Panic welled up within the branded man at the sound, still too far away to act, too far to help. Even if he fired off his charged gun, the creature was simply too large. All he would do was rob himself of his only light. Mickie needed to think, needed to plan. He needed to drive away the fear and panic.

  So, in the space of a breath, and the moment between footfalls, he called upon the hollow. It surged like a caged beast, washing away everything that clouded his mind. Leaving only the focus, the calm, and the roiling mass he held deep within.

  Ziz was twisting its long neck around, trying to find a way out. Its attention was drawn to the sole source of light, landing upon Mickie. The branded man locked eyes with his companion. He raised a hand, and pointed. Past the shadowy giant, past the primordial, into the open mouth of the pipe.

  Mickie needed time to cause a distraction, which meant Ziz needed to run away, and there was only one place to run. The primordial hesitated for a moment, then gave a tiny subtle nod. That was all the branded man saw before a forest of limbs slammed down, obscuring his companion from view.

  He did not miss the moment Ziz dove into the pit, however. Every bulls head the titan had trumpeted in outrage, and it dove forward, hands reaching for its prize. Their resident primordial was quick however, and Mickie did not need to see it happen to know the avian had slipped away.

  A smile slowly bloomed across the branded man’s face as the creature dragged itself into the pipe. Ever since the tower on the seventh circle he had avoided reaching for the hollow within. Even now, the Conductor’s warnings still rang in his ears. Mickie knew he needed to be careful, and yet, all he felt at that moment was the warm glow of satisfaction. There was no more fear, no more panic. Only him, and the thing he needed to break. He began to run.

  The giant had not bothered to rise from its position on the floor. Instead, it had used its plethora of arms to drag itself after Ziz. Mickie ran after it, covering the ground towards the hole’s edge, and without hesitation, leaping in. Below him the titanic body of the monster was descending like an impossibly mutated spider, its long limbs working to control its drop.

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  Mickie plunged down after it like a shooting star, his gun the only light in a vast expanse of empty dark. He held out his free hand as he fell and called forth his black blade. It came to him like an eager hound, seeming to vibrate with excitement in his hand. Mickie held it forth like the tip of a spear, the edge glowing a dull red as he pumped it full of power.

  Then, about two thirds of the way down the pipe, he slammed into the titanic monster. He hit it high, at the point where the bull heads connected to its cylindrical torso. It was what might have been the neck or shoulder on a normal person.

  Mickie’s blade met flesh and carved into it like butter. The branded man himself was not so lucky. He slammed into a wall of muscle, and almost immediately bounced straight off. Something gave in his hip and his shoulder wrenched painfully, but Mickie managed to keep hold of his blade.

  The weapon began to slide free, and he hurriedly twisted it deep before cutting off the supply of power. Hot breath wafted over him as the monster grunted in discomfort, but that was the only reaction it had to his landing. Mickie was inclined to change that.

  He rode the titan until it crashed into the pipe’s floor. Neither Kalistra nor Ziz were anywhere to be found, and their foe wasted no time in giving chase. Mickie was jolted as it stood, still partially hunched in the tunnel. The beast started down the circular tunnel, and its passenger shifted, pulling his blade free and sliding down atop one of the arms.

  ‘Alright big guy. Let’s see how you like this.’

  Mickie drove his weapon into the point where arm met body, and began to work it like a log saw. The monster grunted loudly as he cut, shaking vigorously to dislodge the insect stinging one of its arms. Said insect used his blade to stay in place however, and continued to carve at the flesh.

  Blood began to flow out of the widening wound, a thick, viscous substance that coated his hand and made it sticky. Finally, the monster took real notice of him. It grunted in pain, and did what anyone would do to an annoying bug, it tried to brush him off.

  The hairs on the back on Mickie’s neck rose as he caught sight of the hand. It swung out of the dark like an immense flyswat, coming right for him. There was no time for him to pull his blade free. Mickie let go of the handle and rolled between the gap of two arms. He landed on another limb, and almost got free of that when the hand crashed down above.

  Every arm around the branded man was abruptly pressed flat, and Mickie was squished hard between them. Every bone in his body creaked as the air was compressed from his lungs. Stars danced across his vision as his head was crushed and blood flow throughout his body was disrupted.

  The branded man held onto consciousness as time dragged by, and the limbs compressed him further. He could feel the handle of his gun, suddenly painful within his grasp. If he could just move a finger to the trigger, the beast might let him get some air. Under the pressure of the titan however, the task proved impossible for him.

  Then, just as suddenly as it had come on, the pressure vanished. Mickie hauled in a desperate lungful of air, and found himself tumbling off the titanic arm as it unfurled. Too weak and disoriented to stop the fall, he instead landed on the next limb down. Recalling his blade, the mortal jammed it into the beast and grabbed on tight.

  He took a moment to just breathe and take stock. The good news was that he had successfully garnered the monster’s attention, as painful as it might have been. He had failed to bring the creature to halt, however. Whatever Kalistra and Ziz had done to piss the beast off, it was apparently far worse than a knife to the side.

  Instead of exhausted or helpless, the branded man found himself feeling exhilarated. The hollow within him held the negative emotions at bay, leaving only the energising prospect of a challenge. Mickie sunk further into the hollow, let it wash over him and drain away everything but what he wanted at that moment.

  Deep within himself, the branded man touched upon a current, aligning himself to the flow, taking it up and shaping. His throat began to itch in anticipation as he drew in a slow breath. The blade vanished from where it was lodged within the beast, reappearing in his hand with the edge already aglow.

  He focused upon a limb adjacent to the one on which he crouched. Broad as a redwood and corded with muscle. It shifted with each movement of the monster, bouncing with the cadence of its run. Mickie drew back his own arm as a word formed on the current deep within, twisting up his gut and out his throat.

  ‘Rend.’

  He swung, and steel met skin. There was a moment of tension, the resistance of something beyond physical. The blade parted flesh, hardly more than a handspan through the titan’s skin. The monster screamed as it never had before. Every head bellowed in abject agony at an attack that landed deeper than any physical cut.

  A gargantuan leg buckled, and the beast fell to a knee. Mickie, a sudden lethargy coming upon him, almost fell off the creature. He barely got the black blade lodged deep enough before the world shook violently. The monster’s whole body trembled as it hunched over, half its head screaming as the others groaned.

  Mickie had certainly expected a response, but this was more than even he had hoped. Not only that, but there was something about the beast’s soul that felt familiar. He had glimpsed it in the moment the blade bridged the gap between them. Before Mickie could puzzle it out however, the giant responded to his attack.

  As any animal in pain might, it took the simplest method of attempting to remove the thing that hurt it. In this case, that meant simply toppling on top of the branded man. This time however, Mickie was ready and reacted near immediately. He leapt off the arm, no longer aiming to stay on the beast, and tumbled past its shifting body.

  There came a moment of freefall, an instance when he moved past the forest of arms and into open air. He came to a sudden and abrupt stop, slamming into the slope of the tunnel. Mickie blacked out briefly as his head cracked against steel. When he came too, he was sprawled on the bottom of the pipe, his gun glowing a few meters away.

  There was a tremendous crash and quake as the monster slammed into the wall somewhere above. It was still roaring in pain, and Mickie noticed a number of wide eyes latching onto his prone form. He struggled to rise as the beast pushed itself upright. It seemed weaker, but all it would have to do was lightly brush Mickie to pancake him.

  He needed to move, to get over to his gun before the titan got to him. The branded man got to his hands and knees, then attempted to stand. The pain that raced through him as he did was distant, almost abstract. The hollow kept it at bay, but still, it could not prevent Mickie from dropping back to his knees.

  Unable to walk, he instead started to crawl for his weapon. Steel groaned as the monster shifted its weight. The beast was sluggish, groggy with pain and the after effects of Mickie’s strike. The branded man reached his weapon just as the giant got enough control of itself to take a shaky step forward.

  Mickie twisted to find a monstrous hoof looming above him. The titan roared as it stomped down, and it was all the mortal could do to roll out of the way. He narrowly avoided getting pancaked, summing his blade mere feet from the massive leg. Using the beast’s own limb as cover, the branded man pumped power into his weapon and stabbed it into the floor. He felt it bite, sink in, and meet resistance.

  Above, the beast seemed to realise he was still alive. It roared and made to shove him with its planted foot. There was just enough time for Mickie’s eyes to widen before his face met hoof and he was bouncing across the steel floor. For the second time in under a minute the breath was forced from his lungs as every bone in his body wailed in complaint.

  Strangely enough, the giant did not follow up on the kick. Mickie gasped for breath and rolled to the side, but when his eyesight came into focus, he found the monster distracted. Its arms shuddered where they were pressed against the walls, and the distant heads made an irregular, coughing gurgle.

  Something hit the ground nearby as Mickie recalled his blade. It was a furry lump of matted fur and flesh, glistening with something that might have been blood or water. The branded man did not have time to consider what was happening to the beast, he needed to act.

  Pushing the pain further away, he forced himself to his knees and channelled power into his curved weapon. The edge glowed and Mickie jammed it into the ground before him. This time the blade sank easily to the hilt. Just what he was looking for.

  Above the monster roared as it regained its senses. It appeared to decide that just squishing him with a foot was not enough, and started to reach down with dozens of hands. Mickie dragged his blade through the floor in a long cut before dismissing the weapon. He shuffled backwards and raised his gun. The firearm’s glow seemed to strobe in the moment he spent taking aim, as if to warn him of the danger it represented. Mickie fired anyway.

  There was an immense flash paired with a titanic explosion. Sharp agony spiked up the branded man’s arm as darkness regained its grip upon the world. His gun had flown from his grasp, but that was fine. He had only had enough time for a single shot anyway.

  Mickie dove blindly forward, aiming for the spot where he hard carved and blown open a hole into the floor. He was guided by a subtle crimson glow, coming from a hidden tunnel he had found with his blade. His injured body protested at the treatment, toppling short as the ground shook with a heavy impact.

  One of the monster’s arms had landed nearby, thrown off target by the sudden loss of light. Mickie reached out blindly, and his hand wrapped about a heated length of sharpened steel. It dug into his palm, burning as it cut, but the branded man did not dare let go. Instead, he pulled himself forward, towards the hole he had created.

  Another of the beast’s limbs crashed down, and he felt the blast of air it generated. It smelt of wet fur and stagnant sea water. There was another boom, then another, and Mickie was over the side and into the hole. The world turned red, lit by strobing lines of runes that ran along the floor and walls.

  The branded man hardly felt his impact with the ground, eyes fixated upon the hole through which he had entered. It was not very large, just wide enough to comfortably provide him access. Even as he watched on, something large crashed into the small gap, and runes illuminated a length of hard skin.

  It took some time for the beast to realise it had missed him. Arms rose and fell in what must have been a cascade of blows, yet none managed to squish the hidden mortal. Eventually the monster either grew tired of its attack, or noticed the red glow of runes, because the blows abruptly stopped.

  Mickie had used the time to regain his breath, forcing his damaged body upright and a few feet into the tunnel. He was glad he had when a broad, meaty finger abruptly forced its way into the tunnel. The appendage wiggled about like a mole’s nose, blindly searching for its prey.

  When it failed to find him, the titan switched tact. It hooked its single finger against the roof of the tunnel, and began to heave. The beast’s hands had failed to gain access because they were too wide, dispersing their weight into the tunnel walls. This finger, however, was focused exclusively on the thinner ceiling, and as such met with more success.

  A spike of irritation reached Mickie through his hollow core. If this beast wanted to reach blindly into the bug’s nest, then it had better be prepared to get stung. His blade returned to his hand, and its edge immediately lit up with power. It took a little longer for the branded man to ready himself for a jump.

  The hole in the ceiling widened with each passing moment, and through the new gap Mickie thought he caught a glimpse of a bloodshot eye. Before there was enough space for a second finger, the branded man jumped. He barely managed to catch the appendage with his free hand, and almost dropped away from the resulting pain. Hollow or not, his body was reaching its limit.

  Forcing himself just that little bit further, Mickie swung his weapon around. He stabbed it between the finger and the wall, moving with the curve to hook the meaty limb. Once a point of dull red was visible, Mickie stopped stabbing and started pulling.

  Keeping hold of the weapon’s handle, he let gravity do its work. At the same moment he pulsed a torrent of power into his blade, more than he ever had before. The curved edge flared bright, and all resistance to its fall vanished. Mickie hit the floor hard, joined by half a meaty finger.

  The monster roared in pain and outrage, spraying rank blood only briefly into the hole before pulling away. Mickie listened on, exhausted but satisfied. The beast was tenacious, and he was certain this would not keep it at bay for long, but that was fine. He had succeeded in drawing its attention and only needed a moment now to slip away. The branded man smiled as he stumbled into the tunnel.

  Mickie was laying back against the cool steel passage. After an extensive period of wandering, he had found a point at which the passage curved beyond his ability to walk. Unlike the tunnels Ziz had uncovered, these passages appeared to follow the bend of the large pipe. The slope might have prevented his progress, but it did prove to be a nice place to stop. He was almost comfortable, laying slightly upright within the tunnel.

  The giant had long since ceased its infuriated roaring, but Mickie could still hear it out there, shaking the world with its titanic footsteps. Hopefully Kalistra and Ziz had managed to get away in time. The pair would be navigating their way through absolute darkness, but he was hopeful they could loop back past the beast and return to the surface. They might even find the place of power down here while they were at it.

  Eventually the monster’s shuffling turned to rustling, and finally, to silence. The beast seemed to pause and think for a time, before abruptly stomping away. Mickie heard a chorus of snuffling from its many heads, and guessed it was probably trying to catch Ziz’s scent. Hopefully the big bird had enough of a lead that it would not matter if their enemy got a whiff.

  Mickie continued to wait after the monster wandered off. He was in no rush now, and it would be best to make sure the lights were back on in the city before he moved. The time and the solitude also gave him the opportunity to let go of the hollow. The pain and anxiety had come crashing back in, swamping him so completely he almost shoved them away again.

  The Conductor’s warning rang in his ears however, and Mickie held onto himself long enough that his insides settled. The process took some time, and the vast majority of his attention. As such, he failed to notice the change occurring within the tunnel until it was too late.

  Opening his eyes, the branded man discovered that the crimson light within the space had dimmed considerably. He sat bolt upright, and grunted in pain at the movement. Setting aside the complaints of his battered body, Mickie glanced around. All the runes within the passage had weakened. There was still enough light for his improved eyes to see by, but only just.

  The branded man was considering whether he should backtrack through the tunnels or risk breaking out, when a deep rumble echoed somewhere below. The runes about him suddenly flared bright and began to strobe rhythmically.

  ‘That can’t be good.’

  Mickie’s voice was tinnie in the steel tunnel, echoing with the same rhythm as the crimson light. As the sound faded, something distant rose to take its place. A churning, one which grew louder with each passing moment. It almost sounded like…

  The realisation hit Mickie like a hammer. His eyes widened as he ran them over the tunnel. Even curved, the walls still had the same slope to them. As if they were made to carry a liquid of some kind. The sound was no longer distant, and as it intensified, the branded man began to hear the characteristic rushing and sloshing of something moving through the tunnel.

  He called to his weapons. The blade came easily, but the gun took precious time and work to summon. It must have been damaged when he fired earlier. Mickie began channeling power into both when they appeared, jumping and attempting to cut a hole in the ceiling with his blade.

  The tunnel was deep here however, and the work was slow. With each passing breath the sound of liquid grew ever louder. He ran through ideas as he worked. It might not actually be the tunnels, perhaps there was some reserve of liquid moving down the larger pipe.

  Another strobe from the red runes warned him otherwise. When Ziz had used the blue drug to connect to the runes, it had awoken something in the old city. Mickie had been feeling like they had started an old motor, and now it appeared that finally, it had kicked into gear.

  The branded man managed to slice through a reasonable section of steel above his head. Without hesitation he raised his gun and fired into the split ceiling. Mickie had not been charging his weapon for long, but the force with which it kicked back was enough to stir a spasm in his aching body.

  He did have enough time to recover. Mickie saw the liquid as it came spilling down the tunnel. A waist high wall of silver, seeming almost angry in the rune’s crimson light. The branded man only half registered the colour as he jumped for the freshly made hole. The flood caught his ankles as he grasped jagged metal with his hand.

  Pain flared through his palms as they were sliced open, but Mickie paid them little heed. He hauled himself upwards as the liquid rose to drag him down. It climbed faster than he did, reaching his calves, then his knees. Mickie got his head through the hole before disaster struck.

  He let go with one bloody hand to reach out into the darkness beyond. In doing so his other hand was forced, for one crucial moment, to bear his entire weight. Poorly positioned, and slick with blood, he slipped.

  The silver liquid heaved like it had been waiting for the opportunity. Mickie was dragged down, only barely catching the hole’s edge again with his other hand. There came a moment, in which bloody fingers gripped slick steel, where Mickie realised he was going to lose his grip.

  It was almost funny. All this demonic power and strength, yet he could still fall with a moment of lapsed concentration. Mickie opened his mouth to laugh, or maybe even curse. Instead, his open airway was met by a flood of silver liquid.