"So remind me again why we can't just use our grapple gauntlets?!" Mel shouted from below; her voice was raspy from all the fighting earlier.

  Aside from the calm wind, the sounds around us were the panting of everyone climbing the tall ladder to the Fourth Floor. I was amazed it held all our weight.

  "Did you not pay attention when I handed them out? Like, at all?" Silas called back. “These are the second models; they still can’t shoot very far… yet. They can hold a lot of weight, though. The next version, the Third Model, will be able to shoot as far as a thousand yards, but I haven’t had the time to make those."

  “Who needs to travel that far? It’s too much,” Galina said.

  “Hey, let gearhead build what he wants!” Mel said, standing up for Silas.

  Waelid laughed. “Uhoh, Galina, you upset Gearhead’s mate.”

  I heard several heavy kicks below me as I climbed.

  “Owowow! Stop, damn woman! Sheesh, you’re more ape than woman, you know—OW!”

  Waelid kept quiet after that.

  I kept climbing, following Bartholomew up the frighteningly tall ladder for what felt like hours. My forearms burned, and we weren't even halfway from what I could see.

  Still too tired to transform and fly? Fern asked.

  Yes, I said. I'm exhausted. Moving through the water and spinning into the side of that thing’s shell drained me pretty quickly. Even if someone falls, I'm not sure the Chimera would even come out to save them.

  We really need to find a way to extend the transformation, Fern said.

  Agreed.

  As we climbed the thought stuck with me. I had to get stronger, try and surpass the Third Form and on to the Fourth and Fifth. The older Cinders, and higher-ranked ones, have told me that I should be satisfied with where I am, but I’m not. I can’t help but think of Hopsander, and of Noah, and how my strength was incomparable towards the end of the fight with that…evil soul that controlled him then. I had to get stronger, so that no one else would die. As long as I got stronger, people would stay alive while around me. I was sure of that.

  I pushed the thought of losing my friends away and focused on the present: dirty boots above me, burning muscles, and one rung at a time. Oh, and remembering not to look down. Despite being able to fly, in my human form, high places still scared me.

  After a good twenty more minutes, we approached the ceiling of the Third Floor, and before I climbed up into the hole that led to the Fourth Floor, I looked down for one last look. Below, the water looked like deep blue glass. Wind had stopped, and the waves had settled, and I swore I could see the massive shape of the large creature swimming lazily in circles.

  ——

  The hole we emerged through opened into warmth and unexpected comfort. Every surface of the tunnel we stepped into was covered in blankets and pelts, lamps and colorful flags hanging from the rocky ceiling. Someone had turned this checkpoint into a cozy little cave.

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  Multiple paths led deeper into the tunnels. I started toward one before Waelid grabbed my shoulder.

  "Where are you going, buddy?"

  “I’m following the fresh air,” I said, pointing towards the tunnel I had started down. My nose had picked up the smell of the outside, and so, I had thought I’d follow it.

  "You mean to step outside now and get yourself killed? The Guardians are out there. They might even be patrolling the whole floor. We need to wait for orders so we don’t screw this up. The whole reason we're here is because no Cinder Expedition has ever made it past them." He flicked his hand through my hair, which admittedly had grown long over the past year. "Don't risk our surprise advantage because you want wind in your precious locks."

  My fist clenched. The smart move was walking away, but I wanted to send him through the cave wall. I took a deep breath, stuck with the smart move, and forced my fist to relax.

  "Fine. I’ll let the Blazeman lead.” I said.

  Bartholomew pulled up the last climber—a Forgeman with dark Veclan skin and a smooth bald head. He looked like a mini monk. Strange, but then again, I was stuck in a body with green hair, so who was I to say someone was strange.

  “Ok! No time to rest," Bartholomew barked, tightening his belt. "We're behind schedule thanks to that turtle. The boss is waiting."

  He led us down one of the cave paths, one I didn’t pick, without hesitation. I fell into step beside Mel and Silas, who were laughing together.

  "We just keep ending up in insane situations, huh?" I said, slapping their backs. I had decided after the magebloods assualt that I needed to step up more to protect my friends, and to lean into the big brother role now that they knew my true story of who I was, the 25 year old man from Earth.

  Mel raised her metal gauntlet, now smaller and fitted around her normal hand, in the air at me. "Those damn crabs almost pulled her off me! How am I supposed to fight without the princess?"

  “That’s what you named it?” Silas asked.

  “Of course, she’s beautiful but powerful, everything a princess will be.”

  “You… think it’s beautiful?”

  “W-well yeah. I think all the things you make have a good artistic touch to them.” Mel said, stuttering for the first time I’ve ever heard.

  “O-oh, thanks,” Silas replied bashfully.

  I coughed loudly. “So, you think we will run into any other ancient ruins up here?”

  Zenobia walked up with Ruriel. They were both in the same house before we shut down the house system after the Academy was moved to the Second Floor.

  "Oh, please. There's nothing human or civilized up here, just monsters, and worse monsters past that."

  "I'm just saying, this place is full of surprises. I ran into Dog on the First Floor and he gave me this." I tapped the black sword at my hip.

  "That was a weird coincidence, and half of the Academy still doesn’t believe that you met some shirtless dude who gave you a gift. Sounds more like a child’s fairy tale,” Silas said.

  Before I could respond, Bartholomew led us into a loud, bustling, cavernous room.

  The space was massive. The cave had opened up into a basketball arena-sized chamber that was packed wall-to-wall with Expeditionary members. The smell of grilled meat mixed with leather and steel wafted past my nostrils. Some Cinders wore full plate armor over their uniform, while others were content with the black and gold Expedition Uniform. The weapons I saw looked as if they were pulled from every culture and fantasy book imaginable: curved blades, chained blades, massive war hammers, a metal-reinforced bagpipe, staves, axes, and throwing discs covered in spikes. It looked like a cosplay convention, if every cosplayer was actually ready for war.

  "There they are! Little late, don't you think?"

  The voice cut through the noise like a blade. Boots clicked across stone as Lucile Spiderbane herself approached. She stood six-and-a-half feet tall in her human form. Pale skin painted her face, dotted with freckles across high, rosy cheekbones. Her hair was deep garnet—darker than Mel's fire-red—and a dueling lance rested across her back.

  "Sorry for the delay, Infernal," Bartholomew bowed. "The ship woke up the old gal."

  Lucile gasped dramatically, hand to her mouth. "You don't say! Well, I hope you didn't kill her!"

  "Our engineer made sure she was only incapacitated," Bartholomew nodded toward Silas.

  "And I helped!" Waelid added boastfully.

  "Yeah, helped by almost killing everyone," I muttered.

  "Well, at least you're all intact." Lucile winked at Silas, whose face went crimson. "My thanks to our young genius."

  She tilted her head, flashing a bright smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes told me she was focused.

  "Now then—shall we enjoy our last meal today before we challenge death?”