After taking notice of the newcomer, people started to drop down their pickaxes and head over to where the three of them were standing. They seemed to be close to Lise and Grem, and they didn't seem to be hostile towards Slate in any way.

"What's his name?

"Bloody Horizon, in this weather? We need to get him patched up!"

"Someone get Eeza!"

Slate started to feel slightly claustrophobic as the burly bunch of people swarmed around them, jostling him slightly. A little boy crawled through the adults' legs to the front and stared at him through wide unblinking eyes. The intense blue orbs held Slate's gaze firmly, until he felt like he was sinking back into the snow.

"Hey."

A slight tap from Grem broke Slate's gaze away from the small child. "Don't feel too creeped out by them, it's just that we almost never get new initiates that are our age."

Okay, Slate thought, don't get creeped out.

"Out of the way, people! Just a new guy, not much to see here! Back to work, gather the ice! Hurry now, the sun is almost coming up," a low voice from the back of the group shouted, and a large man from the back of the group shoved his way to the front. "Greetings, glad you're safe, Initiate."

"Ross!" Lise smiled, eyes shining with pride. Slate sensed that her relationship with this man went deeper than just friendship; a teacher and his passionate follower.

"Let's see how you did this time," Ross stomped up to Slate and grabbed him under the chin, forcing his head upwards. "Hmm..." he leaned in so close that Slate could feel his warm breath on his cheek. "At least he still has his eyes... Can't say the same for his face, though."

Lise's smile disappeared. "What," she demanded with a scowl and eyed Slate angrily, as if it was his fault she'd done a bad job cracking ice off of his visage. "But I didn't touch his face! I swear!"

Ross gave a short hoot of laughter, causing for Slate to flinch away. "I'm just pulling your leg, he's fine."

Slate gritted his teeth and hissed, "excuse me, could you please, uh- let go of my face?"

"Grem! Listen to the boy! He's not even the slightest bit scared of me!" Ross turned to Grem, dragging Slate along with him so that he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a look of pity in Grem's expression. Ross gave Slate one last shake before letting him go with a push. "Sorry, kiddo. You were just so cute, I had to mess with you." Ross picked up his pick and slung it over his shoulder a bit too naturally. It didn't take a lot of imagination for Slate to envision dried blood crusted on the ax head.

"No problem, I didn't feel a thing," Slate tried to force on what seemed to be a natural smile as he rubbed his jaw sourly.

"What are your orders, Sir?" Grem put a hand on Slate's shoulder and gave a harsh squeeze, telling him not to upset the senior.

"Sir? My orders? Grem, please! Stop being so uptight around me all the time. Lise always describes you differently, and we've known each other for so long! Loosen up, buddy!" Ross patted the dark haired boy lightly, causing for his grip on Slate's shoulder to tighten. "As for what you should do..."

"Infirmary. Got that," Lise readjusted her belt. Slate caught a glimpse of shining metal hidden behind her coat. "Let's go, Grem."

Slate shrugged off Grem's hand cooly and stalked off to follow Lise.

She walked up to the mountain and placed a hand onto its stony surface. Upon closer inspection, the smooth stone was actually made up of many small pieces of metal, tightly knit together. The shiny bits and pieces moved around and writhed, until Slate realized that they were small robotic bugs. They kept moving, climbing over and entangling each other. The insects rippled with Lise's touch and slip apart to reveal a stone keyboard.

"Another password?" Slate asked.

"The Feather leaves no Trail," Lise replied as she typed it in. "Capital F, capital T. Remember it."

The keyboard glowed in response and an electronic voice, sounding somewhat like Ross, beeped out, "And-"

"-And the Earth Mater bears no dust," Grem rolled his eyes and finished the sentence before the computerized voice could answer.

"Enter and hold thine fortress."

With that, the small bug-like chips scurried away from each other to reveal a large bolted door, with locks arranged in a X-pattern.

"Grem, help me with this will you?" Lise grabbed one of the hatches and Grem threw himself at the other. Simultaneously, they each gave an upwards push and the doorway opened with a loud crack. "Get in Slate."

Squeezing through the tiny crack they'd made for him, Slate stepped into the structure. He stood in awe of it's inner workings, the gears in his mind turning furiously as he tried to take in the sight. The temperature was warm, yet the ambience was cool and mildly bright. A rough chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, emitting a light blue glow around the large chamber. Below it was a large antique clock. The shorter of its two copper hands were about the length of his arms. They were not moving.

The cavern had a main staircase connected to winding bridges that led into small caves in the walls, creating a first level, second level, third and so on until Slate could not lift his head any higher, the top of the main staircase disappearing from sight. The first level was filled with people working at desks, typing furiously into larger Syscreens, which were connected by multiple metal cords into the wall.

"Behold, the heart of the Brink," Grem stepped up from behind him.

Unlike the other from outside, these people paid absolutely no attention to Slate, each of them too immersed in their own work to notice him. The crowd from outside had been dressed in heavy brown clothes, Slate noted, but the majority of this group were wearing thin gray t-shirts and shorts.

"Coders," Lise explained after noticing Slate's gaze. Was that hostility he sensed in her voice? "One of the three groups we have here. The people in brown you saw earlier outside are Hackers like Grem is, and the last group are called the Killers."

"Friendly."

Lise took off her coat to reveal a red t-shirt. "It's easy for newcomers to get the wrong idea about us, but we're the ones who help heal you guys on the battlefield."

"Correct, my friend," Grem shoved Slate playfully, "if you're ever wounded just find one of these fireflies and they'll patch you right up. That, or put you out of your misery."

Slate flinched at that last part. "Ah, it all makes sense now."

"Hey, shut the damn door, stupid Hacker!" One Coder from the far end of the hall stood up and shouted angrily at them, aiming their words at Grem specifically.

"Yeah, it's getting chilly in here," another Coder who was sitting nearer to them looked over the rims of his glasses and shot them a glare.

"Sorry, we were just going to show the new initiate around."

"I don't care, he's just another mouth to feed." The response was sharp.

Grem stepped forward angrily, "how about you hunt for your food instead of getting us Hackers to do it for you?"

The Coder in the back sat back down and turned back to his Syscreen. "Are you going to close the door now or wait until the Frost gets in here? Hurry up, it's cold."

Lise hurriedly went to close the doorway but when she turned back Grem was already there slamming it shut. "Well maybe if you Coders' heads weren't so hollow, it would be warmer in here and you wouldn't get cold so easily!" He looked miserable standing up by himself against a room full of arrogant gits.

"Yeah? You think you're so smart, Hacker? That must be why you guys always have to go outside and do the dirty jobs, right guys?" The first speaker snickered and muffled sounds of agreement ruffled through the room.

"Is it always like this," Slate turned to whisper to Lise who stood behind him.

"Nah. Well, sometimes. It happens every now and then," she shrugged.

Slate watched unhappily as the Coders slowly started to get up one by one and insult Grem. Now, he'd only known Grem for an hour, but there was something uncomfortable about watching the Hacker get ridiculed. Grem was okay at coming up with retorts, but there was no way he could defend his pride against this many people.

"The Hacker can't even think of a good comeback!"

"I didn't even know people this stupid existed."

"How did he even get into the Horizon Net?"

"Stumbled on it, probably. Trust a Hacker to have two left feet."

Slate clenched his fist and hissed to Lise. "This isn't right. Are you just going to let this bunch of saps insult your friend?"

"Traditionally, Hackers and Killers don't get along," Lise started, "but if I had to choose, I'd prefer a Hacker over a Coder any day." There was a click in between the pause.

As Slate turned to face her, he felt something cold whisk past his ear. Moments later, the lead Coder disappeared in a flash of light. The last thing Slate saw him do was blink in surprise, mouth in the midst of preparing another insult, and then he was gone. The room erupted into complaints against Lise, but no one got up to fight her. She casually clicked the silver gun back into her belt and strung her coat over one arm, before grabbing both Grem and Slate's hands. "C'mon, infirmary," she said as she pulled them towards the main stairs during the commotion.

"You killed him," Slate began as they rushed up the stairs two at a time.

"No, I just sent him back to the Starting Portal, which is also where we found you. People can't 'die' here, they just get killed and appear back at the Portal after some time, depending on how they were assassinated." They got to the second floor and turned onto the left bridge, heading for a dark tunnel. "It's almost witchling hour too, I hope they eat him," Lise growled, her eyes dark and stormy.

"Is that even allowed? Killing your comrades, I mean."

She shrugged. "I think there was some kind of oath I swore, but no one really cares. Killer's get higher power."

Slate exhaled in disbelief. "I couldn't tell."

The three of them slowed down as they approached the passage. Calling it a tunnel would be an exaggeration. In actuality, it was a narrow crack, barely wide enough for someone to slip through sideways. Lise led the way in with ease, Slate following close behind and Grem walked in last.

Slate was immediately plunged into darkness, reminding him how it felt to be vulnerable. The only comfort he held onto was Lise's hand, and he hated himself for it. The single source of light came the red fireflies that lined the walls, and even then they were scarcely placed. Like the outside of the mountain, the cavern walls were made up of the same mysterious silver bugs.

Behind them, Grem got stuck very often because of his size. "See, the thing is," he grunted in frustration, "I never quite understood why Killers liked to live up in the Infirmary." Another grumble. "It makes absolutely no sense as to why one would enjoy squeezing in here to get to their dorm."

Up ahead, Slate heard Lise sniff. "It's a test to see if you're worthy of being a Killer. We like the challenge."

"Are you saying Hacker's don't like challenges?"

"No, I'm just implying that you guys seem to like open spaces more."

"You sound like a Coder."

Lise took in what sounded like an exasperated breath. "Don't compare me to those arrogant-"

"Shut up, both of you," Slate growled. "I don't understand this hierarchy business but it's getting on my nerves. You guys are supposed to be friends."

The three of them stopped talking and they trudged on in silence. The narrow cavern seemed to curve and the path started to slope upwards. Despite their argument, Lise led them carefully and paused every minute to make sure that Grem hadn't gotten stuck between any tighter cracks.

It wasn't long until Lise came to a stop and Slate saw a lantern hanging by a dead end. The walls grew more apart and it got easier to breathe. "You're in firefly territory. From this point on, whisper." Lise cast a casual glance behind her, the glow of the red lantern casting an every glow onto her face.

"We weren't talking anyways," Grem grumbled.

Slate watched eagerly as Lise reached up and grabbed the light. She gave it a small twist, the small metal bugs falling apart again to reveal a hidden door.

"Great, now we know how to infiltrate the Killers," Grem rolled his eyes as he entered through the door Lise held open graciously for him.

"Hey, Eeza. I have some guests for you."

Slate stood in awe of the "infirmary." They had climbed higher than he'd thought in the mountain, and large frosted windows now showed the scene. He could see the Hackers way below still working at the ice with their picks, and the sun was beginning to rise. The sky was a smear of colour, red against dark purple. He tore his gaze away from outside and turned it to inside the room. There were beds, rows and rows of them; some empty and messy, others occupied with angry looking owners. And the red— everything was a deep, bright, flashy shade of scarlet.

In the dark corner of the space, an woman stood in the shade holding a Syscreen to her hip. She emerged from the shadows, pushing back fine blonde hair to reveal a smooth forehead. A thin scar ran down across her right eye and she held an elegant metal pipe upright between her lips. She was wearing a strange outfit; long loose sleeves, tight sash that emphasized her tiny waist, and... sandals? Black, with hints of red stripes. "Guests, I'm Eeza. What can I do for you?"

Slate gave a small gulp. Despite Eeza's beauty, there was a pinch of hostility in her expression. He also felt an odd feeling about her, familiar, yet distant from the past. Given his special circumstance, Slate decided that it was not possible that he knew her, and focused on the fact that her eyes were two different shades of blue. He doubted he had known anyone with eyes like hers, and if he did, he'd definitely remember them.

"Problem, guest?" Eeza's voice snapped him back into reality. "Do I know you from Earth or something?"

"No," luckily Lise stepped forward to take the lead. "He says he doesn't remember anything about Earth."

"Curious." Eeza leaned in, tucking the Syscreen into her red sash. She glanced at Slate strangely, her eyes flitting across his face too fast to be casual.

"So, if you could help patch him up, check for frost, y'know, that'd be great," Lise chuckled nervously. Slate realized then that even though both ladies were Killers, there was a serious rank difference between the two.

Eeza curled her upper lip and sighed. "I suppose it's possible. Is he a one?"

"What's a-"

"No, he's a zero." Lise shot him a glare.

"Alright, but I'm low on supplies right now, so you'll have to get him finished first." She took out her Syscreen again and tapped around, long fingers perfectly manicured. "Luke can do it for you if you feel uncomfortable, on the bed over there," Eeza nodded at a boy sitting on his bed to their left, before retreating to her dark corner. The boy scowled at them but gestured for them to come anyways.

"Okay, Luke will do it for us," Lise grinned unnaturally wide and pushed Slate towards him.

"Are you sure, I could—" Grem stopped himself mid-sentence. "No, never mind."

"Alright, newbie. Let's get this done." Luke got up from his spot and shoved Slate onto his bed. "Sit. Good, now face the window."

Slate turned, mute and unsure of what else to do. The sun was almost up, it's rays shining at the edge of the cliffs. He saw the Hackers below set down their forks to retreat inside.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Luke whispered into Slate's ear. "I still can't get this sight out of my head. Day after day, it's still burning red in my memory like blood." Between sentences Slate heard clinks of metal. He saw a faint reflection in the glass and squinted to see better.

"What are you about to—" he turned around a second too late, just in time to see the barrel of a gun aimed at his face, and Luke's finger around the trigger. There was no flinch or faltering as he shot him.

Votes or constructive/encouraging comments are highly appreciated. Thanks :)