Death was coming to Drambower.

Night fell, flooding the canals with blackness, and under the cover of the dark, Illando led his warpack forward. Thirty enforcers, fully armed and armoured flowed in his wake, pack leaders growling out low orders as they moved. Rarely would the enforcers use such a naked, concentrated display of force, but tonight called for nothing less.

This time, when he saw Kendris, he'd have the numbers to put an end to this.

Along with his bladed gauntlet and armbow, Illando carried a long, reinforced darkwood club, fitted with a barkhide handle at its base and five black spikes of solid metal driven through its upper half – each one six inches long. A brutal, effective weapon, it suited the mood he found himself in right now.

Farler led them through the canyons of Drambower's drained canals, retracing the steps their scouts had taken. Setting his paws into this half-dead world, he knew instinctively that they'd come to the right place. It was difficult to explain, but he could feel the Savage Fire pulsing through these empty paths, like a flammable mist in the air just waiting to be ignited.

The factory climbed into view, a gloomy castle of decay. A fitting place to put an end to the Savage Fire cult, Illando thought grimly. In silent columns the enforcers slithered up stairways from different sides of the structure, black against black, their matte armour giving no glint of light. He could see the figures of patrolling Savage Fire sentries just visible at the summit; sentries who would soon regret their allegiance.

Illando led a third of the force up behind Farler, to the area already cleared by the scouts, while Ferrow and Jaris split led the other prongs to encircle the building from all sides. At the top he found Gensher and the three otterkin hunkered in the shadows. Two dead cultists lay off to one side, bundled unceremoniously out of sight of their fellows.

"Good work," he whispered, sliding into place beside them. The wolfkin of his pack spread out into the dark, bristling with weapons. He could feel their murderous intent in the air.

"Definitely the place," Gensher replied, dipping his head towards the rectangular ventilation shaft. "We've had an eye out – some in more have come in and out but no sign of Kendris leavin'."

"Brickle's in there," Kappsi murmured.

"She's a killer now," Gensher grunted. "You saw it."

The otterkin glared at him. "I want to help her."

"This is about Kendris," Illando cut them off. "I'm not interested in your friend right now, Kappsi. We are here to kill Kendris. Once that's done we can sort out the rest – understand?"

"Then we're coming in with you," she snapped back, hefting the enforcer-issue dirk in her paw. "I'm not going to just watch you kill her because you don't care."

Illando narrowed his eyes at her, weighing up whether this was an argument worth having right now. Before he could decide, however, his ears pricked up at the sound of several muted cracks and cries from the surrounding area. The whistle of half a dozen armbow bolts thrummed the air followed by the wet thud of them striking bodies.

The enforcers were making their presence felt. A moment later a sinewy male from Ferrow's pack came slinking around from the other side of the building. He dipped his head to Illando respectfully.

"Sir," he said quietly. "The sentries have been subdued, no alarm has been raised. We're ready."

"Good." Illando spared Kappsi a brief glance before turning back to the enforcer. "Pass the word. Move into the complex and make sure all exits are covered. Kendris does not leave here."

The scout nodded and hurried off.

"Alright," Illando told Kappsi. "You can come. Look for your friend, but don't get in my way. Understand?"

"Of course." She dropped her head so low it was almost a bow. "Thanks."

"Thank me when its over." He beckoned Farler forward. "Take the lead. You know the tunnel system."

"Sir." Farler didn't hesitate, raising his armbow and slinking into the vent. Illando kept Gensher in front of him as the rest of the enforcers filed inside, while Kappsi and her brothers tucked themselves in at the rear of the column.

The coldness of the vent pressed in around them. Illando kept his snout tilted upwards as they moved, scenting the air. Beyond the musk of his comrades he could smell fresh blood, the stink of incense and the strange scent of burnt water and charcoal. He gripped the club tighter, almost excited at the thought of finally getting to grips with Kendris. He knew that the other prongs of his warpack would be making their way inside, killing as they went.

They emerged out onto the low gantry and he straightened up. Then he stopped, a jolt of confusion momentarily rooting him to the spot as he looked out into cube-shaped chamber. The brawl-pit was there, just as Farler and the others described, and he could see the spatters of newly-dried blood from the fight.

But there was no-one here. The room was empty.

"What in the Peace?" Kappsi gasped. "What... where did they go?"

The fur stood up on the back of Illando's neck, his lips drawing back in frustration. His paw clenched tight around the handle of the club as he scanned the room for any sign of life. When he did see movement at the fringes of the room, all he saw were the dark armoured forms of the other enforcer packs. Two levels up, Jaris's force secured the upper level, spreading out around the spindly horseshoe of a gantry that looked down on the brawl-pit. From a door at the opposite end, Ferrow emerged with her pack fanning out behind her.

All of them striding into... nothing.

"Where is everyone?" Ferrow spread her paws wide as they met in the middle of the brawl-pit.

"Nothing on the upper level," Jaris called down, sounding just as confused. "We sure this is the place?"

"Oh, this is the place alright," Illando said, scuffing a footpaw across the dried blood on the ground. The club twirled murderously in his paw as he turned, his movements slow and deliberate. "It seems like they knew we were coming. I wonder how that could be."

The other wolfkin edged away, sensing the danger in his low voice. He moved among them, walking with careful, quiet steps. His eyes scorched guilt into them; he could feel his body willing him towards violence, a primal urge that he was struggling to hold back anymore. He reached Gensher and stopped, rotating to face the other enforcer.

"I think we've danced around this for long enough."

Gensher raised an eyebrow. "Around what?"

Slowly, Illando reached forward, touching the tip of his club against Gensher's chest. "You did this."

"What?!"

"We've had a traitor in our midst for a long time now. I didn't want to believe it, but this..." Illando shook his head. "You warned them we were coming."

"You think it was me?" Gensher slapped the club away with a growl. "They're in your head, Illando. What in the bloody Fire would I do that for?"

"I'm not sure, but I've seen the messages. They came from your personal comm. You tried to scrub your tracks, but we found out." Illando raised the club. "You've always been a brute, Gensher. A killer. Maybe you found someone who wasn't going to bother you with rules and regulations."

"I ain't no Savage." Gensher sank into a slight crouch, baring his teeth. "And I ain't about to lie down and die 'cos you're too paranoid to think straight."

The wolfkin stared each other down, and the rest of the enforcers shuffled back even further, not wanting to get anywhere close to the confrontation about to unfold. Gensher flexed his neck from side to side, his oversized gauntlet of blades slowly rising.

"Illando, wait!" Kappsi exclaimed, leaping between them with her paws raised. She winced, as though expecting to be caught between the two enforcers like a slamming door. When it didn't happen she glanced quickly left and right, before pivoting to face Illando. "It can't have been Gensher!"

He didn't even glance at her. "Stay out of this."

"Oh, boil your pride and listen t' me," she yelled. "Gensher was with us the whole time. He's not been out of our sight." She looked desperately to her brothers. "Right?"

"Aye, right enough," Haarm said, approaching them with tentative steps. "He couldn't have sent any message, mate. He's been too busy keeping his eyes on us."

"Listen to them, Illando," Gensher said. "I'm not your enemy – not today at least."

"Then how-,"

A series of deafening bangs ripped through the air, cutting him off. Illando lurched back, his head snapping from side to side as he tried to pinpoint the sound, before realising it had come from all around them. And above them. His eyes widened in horror when he looked up, and saw the ringed gantry overlooking the brawl pit coming apart in a deluge of warped metal.

All along the length of the platform explosive charges had detonated, tearing the gantries from their wall mounts and pitching most of Jaris's enforcers down into empty space. They spilled down into brawl pit amid. The quicker wolfkin managed to hurl themselves clear of the wreckage, but several were not so lucky, maimed by landing in the crush of ruined metal.

"JARIS!" Illando barked. Nearby enforcers burst into motion, trying to haul their stricken comrades free. He saw the pack leader drag himself loose from a tangle of rails, limping heavily, but alive.

He started forwards, but another series of sounds arrested his progress. A series of heavy crashes one after the other. Illando whirled around, only to see every entrance to the chamber suddenly seal shut, with thick sheets of metal mesh slamming down over each threshold. His eyes went wide as he watched a handful of enforcers try to break out, attacking the fencing with claws, clubs, and blades, but the lattice was thick, the gaps allowing a smokey, distorted vision of the passages beyond.

As the echoes died and the air was filled instead with the groans of the wounded and the creak of metal, he realised something. For the first time since this whole thing started he simply didn't know what to do. The feeling made his stomach turn. This had all been a trap. They had been betrayed.

But not by Gensher.

"Illando?"

He went rigid at the sound of his name. For an instant his mind refused to link the voice to the name. With jaw clenched so tight that his teeth hurt, Illando turned. A narrow sheet of mesh plugged the tunnel they'd entered through, and he could make out the shape of a wolfkin on the other side. He approached slowly, narrowing his eyes. Emptiness hollowed his gut as he managed to make out the features of the figure.

"Farler?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"It was you? All this time, it was you?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I trusted you."

"You're not the only one," Farler replied. "Sorry it has to end like this. Believe me, Illando, this brings me no pleasure at all."

He couldn't contain it any longer. No matter how futile the gesture, Illando couldn't stop himself. With fearsome speed he brought his club around in both hands and smashed it against the grate. A deafening clang rang out, and Farler jerked back from the other side. The mesh was dented and scraped by the blow, but it held firm.

Illando lowered the club, trembling with anger but trying to control himself. Trying to wrap his head around this.

"The messages we found?" he choked out. "From Gensher's comm – they were all you?"

"I needed a scapegoat. I knew Noelle would dig them out eventually, so I had to make sure they didn't link to me. Had to come from an enforcer comm though." A rueful smile crossed Farler's face. "Don't be too hard on Gensher. He was... an easy mark for something like this."

"But why?" Illando shook his head in disbelief. "What in the name of the Peace happened to you? We are enforcers. We are supposed to protect this city!"

"For what? For who?" Farler made a vague gesture over his shoulder. "For the snakes in the Conclave? For those doddering clerics who lied their way into history? For people like Hera who would pervert everything that makes us who we are?"

"It's better than a cult of murderers."

"It's not that simple. Wildhearth's kin have lost their way, and they'll never find it again. Not without us."

"It's not too late, Farler." Illando battled to keep his voice level as he spoke. "Open up these doors and let us out. That cult brainwashes people, that's all this is. Don't make this worse than it has to be."

"It's a little too late for that. I'm not brainwashed, and I know full well what you do to people you consider to be traitors." He shook his head. "I've tried to save Wildhearth from itself for almost twenty years, Illando. I've seen enough. We need a new way. Kendris's way."

"He's insane. You're insane."

"I'm sorry you see it that way." Farler sighed, genuine sadness in his voice. "We could have used you, Illando, but I know you too well. You'll never understand. This his how it has to be."

For a few seconds silence burned between them. Farler. Dependable, veteran, loyal Farler. He'd been there every step of the way, at Illando's side for every decision he'd made against the cult. How hadn't he seen it? How had he been so blind? A wave of self-loathing crashed over him, followed by an incandescent pyre of rage.

"Make peace with whatever gods you follow, Farler," Illando spat in acid tongue, his composure disintegrating as he dragged the spikes of his club down the metal mesh, "because when I get out of here, I'm going kill you."

"Just as well you won't be leaving here, then." Farler shook his head and turned away.

Illando watched the silhouette fade away into the smokey passage, trying to contain a feeling like nothing he'd ever felt before. When Hera set the enforcers on the path of madness, he felt anger. When the Savage Fire cultists tried to kill him he'd been enraged.

But this was different. He'd worked side by side with Farler for years. On some level he still couldn't believe it.

Now he didn't even know how to describe the level of fury coursing through every fibre of his body. His mind whirled like a grizzly tornado, imagining every brutal thing he was going to do to the traitor when he found him again. He dug his claws against the grate, creating a horrible, screech of scraping metal. The muscles on his arms bulged as he pulled, causing screws to creak and the grate to bow ever so slightly under the sheer force.

With a guttural snarl he released his grip, stepping away and letting the metal sheet twang back into place. He stalked back into the centre of the arena, his mind racing. A bunch of metal grates wouldn't contain a full pack of enforcers for long. Brute force would be enough to get them out of here – eventually. Farler had only delayed the inevitable. The rest of the enforcer warpack gathered around him in a loose circle, and he saw Gensher in the front rank, the big wolfkin glowering at him intently.

"I suppose I owe you an apology," Illando muttered.

"I suppose so," Gensher snorted. "But I'll wait until we're out of here. What in bloody fangs do we do now?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but before Illando could start issuing orders a dull, rhythmic clang of metal on metal echoed through the cavern of the brawl pit. He looked up sharply, a twist of bitter resignation in his heart. Somehow, he was not surprised to find Kendris looking down on them.

Standing on a high balcony and flanked by heavily armed cult guards, the hynakin grinned evilly. In one paw he carried a brutal-looking axe, its barbed head fashioned from a lump of scrap metal, fixed to a length of piping. He banged the haft against the balcony rail, letting the sound reverberate as he stared down at the enforcers.

"Well, well, well," he chuckled, his coarse voice crawling out across the air like a toxic cloud. "It would appear this round is mine, enforcer."

Illando turned to face his foe, stepping out from the group of enforcers. He fixed Kendris with an icy glare but said nothing, the muscles in his neck and jaw standing out taut as he tensed. His free paw curled and uncurled by his side.

"You played your part well," Kendris continued. "I almost regret that this is how it ends. In another time, I think you and I could have gotten along famously. Alas, this is not that time. In this time, you are a threat." He sighed, in faux regret. "We will not meet again, I'm afraid, but I am not without mercy. If you have anything you wish to know, you may ask me now. I promise to answer. You will go to the Fire with all the answers you seek."

Answer this.

Illando whipped up his armbow and fired.

Surprised though he may have been, Kendris reacted with lightning speed. His jaw snapped shut and he twisted his body sideways just enough for the bolt to pass him by. It instead thunked into the eye-socket of a cultist standing behind him. The unfortunate guard juddered for an instant, their mouth sagging open as the bolt pierced their brain.

Then they staggered and toppled silently over the rail. The corpse smacked to the hard-packed grit of the brawl pit with a dull thud. Kendris glared down at him, his smile evaporating into an expression of indignant anger.

"Think you got his attention, mate," Skoppa murmured.

"Know when you are beaten, enforcer," Kendris snarled. "This will be your last-,"

Illando was long past trading barbs with his enemy. As the hynakin spoke, he simply reloaded and fired again. Kendris was forced to drop flat. The guards tried to scatter in the narrow space and another cultist collapsed screeching onto the balcony. Panic began to flicker through the group.

Cursing in his own long-dead tongue, Kendris began shoving his guards out through the door, realising he was not going to get the satisfaction of revelling in his victory. He spared Illando an infuriated glance before raising his head.

"Now!" Kendris bellowed. "Slay them all!"

The hynakin vanished through the door with his guards, and a moment later Illando felt the ground beneath his paws shake violently. His brow crumpled in bafflement as he spread his legs to hold his balance.

What happened next, he did not expect.

In a cross shape all around them four rectangular slabs of the floor simply fell away. Dust exploded in thick clouds, kicking up grit from the brawl pit to form a coarse smog. Spluttering for breath, Illando scrubbed at his eyes, trying to see just what was happening. After a few seconds, he could make out ramps sloping down and away from him in each direction.

But it wasn't what he saw that put a cold chill of fear into his spine.

It was what he heard.

The thunder of a thousand footpaws rose like a storm in the deep, echoing up to engulf them, before being drowned out by the screaming of a thousand feral voices. From all four ramps, surging up into the light like an army of the damned, came a hoard of Savage Fire cultists.