Michael Chatfield
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RTA Book 2: Against Ruin's Fate - Chapter 9
🕑 Added 2025-06-27 11:00:05 +0000 UTCThe main cavern of Firebase Threshold had never been so quiet. The hammers were silent, the factories still, the constant hum of construction and industry replaced by an eerie absence of sound. The Combat engineers and soldiers were dressed in clean lines, creating a perfect square. The civilians stood behind and around them, forming a solemn perimeter.
Len marched down the center aisle, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.
He’d cleansed his uniform and did what he could to make it presentable. The weeks had been rough on it. His face was set in stone.
At the front of the formation stood three makeshift memorials: two rifles turned upside down with helmets resting on their butts, and between them, a large wrench with a dented metal hard hat balanced atop it. Each bore the marks of work and violence—scuffs, scratches, and scorches telling silent stories of their owners' final days.
Rick and Adrian stood off to the side, faces impassive but eyes following Len as he approached the memorials.
Len came to a precise halt before the memorials and saluted. His memories of the men rolled through him, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
He lowered his hand and executed a perfect about-face to look at the assembled personnel.
He looked back down the aisle—unable to meet another person’s eyes. This never got easier, with the first or the thousandth. It wasn’t meant to.
"ATTENTION FOR ROLL CALL!" His voice snapped through the cavern.
The formation stiffened, shoulders squaring, chins lifting.
“Corporal Jorge!”
“Present!”
Name by name, the roll continued, each response firm and immediate. Len worked his way methodically through the roster, his cadence never faltering.
Then he reached the first gap.
"Lance Corporal Jenkins!"
Silence stretched across the cavern. Not a breath, not a shuffle. A hardness—a missing voice.
" Lance Corporal Jenkins of Goran!"
Nothing.
"Private Harrison!"
The silence grew heavier, more substantial.
"Private Harrison of Goran!"
The absence of response hung in the air like a physical presence.
"Boiler Engineer Clyde!"
Among the engineers, a woman with dark hair pressed her fist against her mouth.
"Boiler Engineer Clyde of Eskon City!"
The silence that followed was absolute. Len stood perfectly still, shoulders rigid, eyes burning as he stared ahead.
“Your watch has ended.”
Across the formation, jaws clenched and tears tracked silently down stoic faces. Christina stood among the engineers, her eyes fixed on the hard hat, shoulders trembling slightly with the effort of maintaining composure.
He waited three heartbeats longer than necessary before speaking again, his voice now raw and hoarse.
"We will remember them." It was a promise and a vow.
“We remember!” Those in formation yelled back—an iron truth.
Len executed another precise about-face, raised his hand in a crisp salute to the memorials, and held it for a long moment.
When he finally lowered it, his movement was deliberate and controlled.
“Formation! Dis-missed!”
He felt the tension bleed away. He turned towards Rick and Adrian and marched with measured steps toward them.
His steps relaxed as he left the formation, losing the rigidity. Rick and Adrian joined him—leaving the rest of those assembled to their grief.
As they exited, Edwin and the able men in his squad, approached the memorials. Five soldiers, faces grim with purpose, moving to pay their respects to their squadmates.
Aidan, Jeremiah and Peter, the three wounded were still under the care of Zannish and Herrera.
The first knelt before the rifle, touching its barrel briefly before bowing his head.
Len looked away, giving them their privacy in that moment of communion with the dead.
They needed space and time. It was not the place of officer or NCO to get in the way of that.
***
It was several hours of hard work later that Len stretched out the kinks. “Healing enchantment is done.”
"It looks like something out of a cult ritual," Rick commented. He swung his hammer, dust fell from the lines and runes that expanded outwards from his point of impact.
The small cavern they had repurposed was illuminated by glowing crystals set into recesses in the walls. At its center stood what could only be described as an altar—a stone slab carefully sculpted and inscribed with a network of intricate enchantment patterns that Len had spent hours carving. The patterns pulsed with a soft blue glow, the lines stretching across the surface and down the sides to connect with the floor.
Around the perimeter of the room, Rick had etched a mana gathering enchantment, gather mana within the chamber.
Four stone stands rose from the floor at each corner of the slab, each holding a modified IO kit. The clear glass containers held a solution far more concentrated than what Len had used with the burn patients yesterday.
They were equal parts healing potion and purified water instead of the diluted mixtures used in the medical bay.
There were four other bottles with large gauge tubes attached to them at the head of the altar. Nutrition broths. Shredded meat and vegetables mixed with bone broth. The meat and bones had come from the dead beast bodies they’d recovered.
Ad-hoc stamina replacement formulas. They’d fed them to the burn patients to speed their recovery.
“Yeah does look like the kind of place you’d make a blood sacrifice,” Len grimaced. “Fuck those people.”
Rick spat to the side. Cultists were their own brand of madness and there were terrible ways to achieve power if someone didn’t have morals.
“I guess this is more like a ritual—we’re doing things more by feel than having strict rules like with science.”
“Had to figure it out first without rules to come up with them,” Rick said.
“Fair enough,” Len’s voice distracted as he made final adjustments to the healing enchantment matrix on the slab. He traced a finger along a particularly complex section, ensuring the lines connected properly. "How's the mana flow?"
Rick closed his eyes, extending his senses. "Even throughout the chamber. The gradient increases toward the center. Density should reach approximately triple ambient at full activation."
“With others we’re going to have to keep an eye on mana poisoning immediately.”
“Get them hooked up to the IO’s before we start?” Rick hit the wall once more and stepped backwards to check his work.
“Yeah, and we have to make sure that they’ve eaten plenty to work with and keep up the stamina so healing doesn’t burn them out,” Len said.
“Fair,” Rick stepped towards the wall again and thumped on it, stone three meters away from where he struck falling to the ground. “Any word from your father?”
"The tunneller's making good progress," Len said, moving to check one of the IO kits. "Pushing nineteen kilometers a day now. The enchantment is holding up well, but the material strain is becoming the limiting factor. Dad says they've got to keep the speed down so that the tunneller doesn’t overheat and start warping the enchantments."
"That's still faster than anticipated. They should reach Goran within the week if they maintain that pace." Rick kept working.
"I spoke with Captain Sam this morning. Steel production is up forty percent with the new workflows. They're excavating the ravine for the bridge now—engineers expect the foundational work to be complete in a couple of days. From the reports they’ve built their own camp around the iron vein,” Len finished his checks and looked at Rick.
“We need as much as they can supply here, and the price of iron is soaring in Plynthia. Well the price of everything is soaring,” Rick stepped back from his work again. “I was talking to Grandma, the first schools are opening. Classes on words and numbers for adults in the evenings, basic education for children during the day. She’s got several industries kickstarted and they’re skilling up people for the work.”
“How bad are the price increases?” Len asked. “I know that we don’t have much gold left in reserve.”
“Bad. Food prices are up twenty percent in a week. Steel is looking to double price. Orders for materials on agreed contracts were cancelled so they could sell them at a higher price. It’s a blessing in some ways as we’re getting coin from all the cancelations.”
“But we still need as much as we can get,” Len said.
“I think that we’re going to have to be self sufficient a lot earlier than we were expecting. I told Grandma other things to buy that are still cheap. Things like paper, different tools. Any and every kind of engine she can get her hands on. Lots of people selling their farming gear as they don’t have the people to work it and they need to buy food.” Rick shook his head and walked towards the Altar.
“Well harvest should be starting in a few weeks. I was talking to my brother Des. He said that the fields around Goran look promising—yields estimated at twenty percent above normal thanks to the enchanted tools and methods we introduced."
“That will be welcome,” Rick said.
“Yeah, they’re staggering the planting a week between one another to create a rotation through the fields. Started building facilities in the farming compounds to preserve everything that comes in.”
“Harvest the fields, bring it back to the compound—preserve and pack, then send it to storage facilities in the city?” Rick asked.
“Create a logistics network to speed up the whole process. If things go the way Des is expecting—they’re going to have teams planting and harvesting every week,” Len said.
Rick raised his eyebrows. “Damn that’s good. How much food we talking about?”
“Should meet our needs and give us an extra thirty percent to be stored away.”
“How are the smokers here going?” Rick asked.
“The wood is more useful as building materials than to smoke out the meat—instead Gretchen is making heating enchantments that will dehydrate the meat to preserve it. We have all those dead beasts out there, be a shame to waste it,” Len said.
“Hate wasting food,” Rick muttered, his eyes becoming distant.
“Seems that my brother Jed is in Eskon City.”
“Why’s he there?”
“Apparently he went with a group of farmers to scope out more tools and gear. Then he started picking up rumors and information. He passed it along to your Grandma and she offered him a job to gather information,” Len said.
“He okay?” Rick asked.
“Loving it apparently. He’s in his element. Kid was always good at getting information from people,” Len smirked and shook his head.
“Good for him! Other good news, Tenebrook made stable powder. Stuff is stronger than regular powder, blow up a steel barrel at current strength—so they need to get enchanted. He’s also got a weak stamina potion working. Workers and veterans who want to get back to work are able to do so now.”
“That’s great news. Gretchen and Wilbur are Journeyman level enchanters now, Harold and Peter aren’t far behind. I’m hoping to get them teaching as soon as we can get back to Goran,” Len said.
“Yeah, we need more of the esoteric skilled people for sure,” Rick said.
“You hear about the beast sightings?” Len asked.
“Seems everyone that’s in a bit wilder country is seeing altered creatures in some kind. Either much stronger or having magical markings and abilities. Trade along the roads has dropped quickly—” Rick said.
“—With nearly all transport of goods moving through the railroads, locks and rivers,” Len continued. “When we connect with Goran we need to bring Velkaris into the fold. We’re going to start drawing attention if we sell on our goods directly. Need Velkaris’ black market connections to keep from being found out and get gold flowing.”
“Grandma was saying if we could find a gold vein up here that would be great,” Rick said dryly.
Len chuckled and shook his head. He tapped on the stone slab. “Well the world ain’t going to wait for us much. Shall we get this thing tested out?” He reached into his pocket and produced a small stone key, its surface carved with the same patterns as the slab. He inserted it into a matching slot at the head of the altar, turning it clockwise until it clicked.
The healing enchantment flared to life, the blue glow intensifying to a steady pulse that matched the rhythm of a heartbeat.
===
You have earned: 90 XP
===
Rick followed suit, inserting his own key into the floor near the altar’s head. They’d put them close together to make it easier to activate and deactivate the enchantments.
Mana flowed through the enchantments throughout the room, adding a otherworldly glow to it as they filled the entire room. Then the pressure of the increased mana density exerted itself on Len’s mana gates.
He took his time studying the enchantments with normal and mana sight.
“Ready for power down?” Rick asked.
“Good.”
Rick grabbed both keys and turned them, deactivating both systems. Rick tapped the floor and closed his eyes—undoubtedly mapping out the room.
Len used mana pulse to do the same thing, studying everything through that then he used his thermal control to test if there were hot or cold spots where the enchantment might divert from overloading the compressed stone of the chamber or altar.
"Looks stable," Len said.
“Nothing broke!”
“Not the greatest recommendation for a system that is literally going to tear apart our bodies from the inside.”
“You say the most calming things. You should be a motivational speaker,” Rick said.
Len grinned, trepidation running through him.
"Rock paper scissors?" Len suggested. Before his mind could start conjuring worst case scenarios.
Rick's mouth quirked up at one corner. "Sure."
“I hate how confident you are,” Len held out his fist.
“Rock paper scissor—fuck.” Len's scissors fell to Rick's rock.
"Better luck next time," Rick said, gesturing toward the altar. "Your bed awaits, Your Majesty."
Len gave him a sarcastic look before removing his jacket, he nearly put it on one of the IO stands.
Need to see how much potion we got left.
He tossed it on the floor and got onto the altar, feeling the dips and divots of the enchantment.
"Ready?" Rick asked, putting the keys in.
“No.”
“Ah a willing test subject.” Rick grinned at him and turned the mana gathering enchantment key.
“Your bedside manner is shit,” Len said.
He checked his stats quickly.
===
Name: Len
===
Experience: 65374
Mana: 87
Body: 120
===
The room's ambient mana began to concentrate. Len felt the familiar pressure against his gates as the density climbed—like the atmospheric change before a thunderstorm, but focused entirely on his own body.
He closed his eyes and took the plunge and stopped fighting the mana trying to enter his channels and drew the mana inward.
The sensation was both familiar and novel. His channels stretched as the mana flowed through them, directed by his will toward his core.
With his mind's eye, he watched as the red vapor that already filled most of his solid white core spread and thickened with each breath.
He got into the flow and flexed his domain, commanding the mana within towards himself, compressing and drawing it into his channels.
"Alright," Len said once he had adjusted to the secondary influx, "I'm good for more."
Rick moved to the altar's side.
His domain unfurled as well.
Feeling another’s domain was to feel the extent of their power. Like a beast waking from a slumber. Rick and Len’s domains were sharp and defined—their control beyond the limits that their current domains.
Rick took Len's hand in his left while placing his right palm directly over Len's forehead—directly above the primary mana gates. Then, with practiced precision, Rick pushed his own mana directly into Len's channels.
The effect was immediate and intense.
The additional mana acted like a pressure multiplier, effectively increasing Len’s mana regeneration by Rick's.
Len focused on compressing and guiding the mana through his channels, the red vapor that had been slowly spreading through his solid white core sped up.
His channels strained with the greatly increased volume of mana and started to tear. Compressed mana flared out of the tears and through Len’s body. The mana flares were lances of pain that tore apart Len’s body.
His natural regeneration healed the damage as more of the tears opened—the fight had begun.
Before Len could voice the approaching threshold of what his natural healing could deal with, Rick exerted his will and activated the healing enchantment.
The flares of mana were healed nearly as fast as they appeared.
Inside his core, Len watched the transformation with a mixture of fascination and determination.
The red vapor spread to the limits of his core, the pressure increasing, like holding a tensed muscle—the pain built and built as Len used his will to force in more mana compressing the vapor more and more. It felt like it was going to pop.
Len gritted his teeth in a rictus of a smile.
Suddenly the pressure gave way and the vapor in his core was pushed from the outer reaches of his core inward. Len kept pushing, like a man pushing against a cart and had got the first step forward—he kept going.
More compression, more mana.
The vapor condensed into a single point—transforming into a blood red liquid drop.
The pressure in his core abated, his channels becoming thicker and stronger as his domain grew larger and his core drew in more mana.
The flares of mana subsided and then increased as the drop expanded, growing from a small bead to a larger globule.
Pain lanced through his system—his channels tearing and being repaired in a continuous cycle. A more primitive part of his consciousness emerged, recognizing the fundamental exchange taking place: pain for progress, suffering for strength. His domain expanded to its full extent, drawing in every particle of mana it could reach.
He accepted it all and sunk into a meditative state.
The damage accumulated faster than the healing could completely erase it, Len bore the discomfort with grim resolve. The red liquid in his core continued to grow, becoming more viscous and substantial.
"Status check," Rick called out, his voice seeming to come from very far away.
Without interrupting his cultivation, Len opened his eyes and pulled up his stats.
===
Name: Len
===
Experience: 65,374
Mana: 95
Body: 121
===
"Mana ninety-five, body one-twenty-one," he managed through gritted teeth.
Rick nodded, satisfied with the progress. In one smooth motion, he removed his hand from Len's forehead and produced a hollow screw from his pocket. Before Len could react, Rick drove the IO needle directly into his shoulder the twisted the screw into his bone.
Len glared at Rick and let out a grunt through his clenched jaw. He closed his eyes as Rick screwed in in two more twists, a few moments later there was a warm pressure in his shoulder as the healing and water solution flowed into his body.
Len heard Rick pull his hammer from his holster.
Fuuuuck.
Len barely had time to brace himself before Rick brought the hammer down on Len's chest.
The impact itself was almost negligible. What followed was not.
The odd resonating force traveled not through bone and muscle but through Len's entire nervous system—tearing it apart.
It made the flares of mana breaking apart his body feel like a feather’s touch. Every nerve was torn apart in a symphony of agony that transcended physical sensation. Len's back arched off the slab, a scream tearing itself from between his clenched teeth.
His natural healing, the enchantment and IO’s aid worked in concert, repairing the damage almost as quickly as it occurred. But "almost" left plenty of room for pain.
Len seized that pain, directing his fury toward it as he had toward the creatures that had killed his men.
This suffering had purpose—he would emerge stronger, more capable of protecting those under his command. Every torn nerve, every shredded mana channel would be rebuilt more resilient than before.
Rick hit him again, the impact ripping through him. The damage receded , in time for another impact.
Len held back his screams, barely. As Rick tempered his body as a smith might temper steel.
For what felt like hours but might have been minutes, Len existed in a state of pure sensation—pain and healing cycling through his system in waves. His consciousness narrowed to a single point of determined endurance.
Gradually, the intensity began to diminish. Healing potion continued to flow into his system, and he became aware of Rick's healing spells adding their effect. The mana density in the room was rapidly decreasing as Rick deactivated the gathering enchantment.
"Drink," Rick said, inserting a tube between Len's lips.
The moment the first mouthful of nutrient-rich slurry hit his tongue, Len realized how desperately hungry he was. His body, having expended enormous resources repairing itself, demanded fuel. He sucked greedily at the tube, barely registering the bland taste of the shredded food mixture.
Thought, not just blind endurance returned to him.
He’d eaten MREs in muddy trenches with a broken jaw. This wasn’t so different. Could do with some pepper or hot sauce.
As strength returned to his limbs and the mental haze cleared, Len gradually pushed himself upright. His clothes were soaked with sweat, plastered to his skin. With a thought, he cast Cleanse, removing the perspiration and leaving him feeling marginally more human as he continued to drink down the slurry of food.
He checked his status.
===
Name: Len
===
Experience: 65,374
Mana: 113
Body: 127
===
A total increase of twenty-six points to mana and seven to body. Such progress was unthinkable in his last life. This had come with the fee of pain.
But when Len looked at Rick, he realized the cost had not been his alone. Rick's face was drawn, his skin pallid with an unhealthy sheen. His hands trembled slightly as he grabbed onto the IO in Len’s shoulder and unscrewed it.
Len grimaced but it barely registered against what he’d gone through. His mana stat had surged, racing to catch up to his body stat.
"Your turn," Len said, sliding off the altar. "You look like hell."
"Thanks," Rick replied dryly, but winced as he moved to take Len's place.
Rick grimaced as he lay down on the healing enchantment as if he was lying down on superheated iron.
Mana poisoning.
"Maybe we should wait," Len suggested, concerned by Rick's reaction to the healing energy.
"No," Rick said firmly. "Keep going. I need to get stronger too."
Len hesitated only briefly before nodding. He understood the urgency too well.
He moved around to the other side and grabbed the healing potion IO that wasn’t used up. He stabbed it into Rick’s arm and screwed it into the bone.
The signs of mana poisoning diminished under the IO and healing enchantment. Using his will, Len activated the mana gathering enchantment with the key in the floor as he picked up Rick’s hand and pressed his hand to Rick’s forehead.
He waited.
“Good,” Rick said.
Len channelled mana through his own system, it came to him quickly and thick. He pushed it directly into Rick's gates—just as Rick had done for him. Beneath his palm, he could feel Rick's channels already strained and damaged from his extensive mana use.
This was going to hurt both of them. But they had no choice.
The world outside wouldn't wait for gentle methods.
