It was time to plan an attack. Charging in recklessly wasn't an option. The beast before them might look rotten and decrepit, but that could just as easily be a form of camouflage or, worse, part of its ability. Its swollen limbs and twitching skin gave off the stench of decay, but something about it felt deliberate—like the rot was alive.
Eros stepped closer to Varik, his tone low and urgent. "So how do we handle this? Should we use the same method we did with the Reaper, or—"
Before he could finish, Varik cut him off with a nod. "Yes, the same method could work. But this time, there's a complication."
He turned to Nira, gesturing for her to join them. "One of the Firstborns spotted something. That thing isn't alone. It's not just the Rotten Beast. There are others in the area. Those headless, torsoless abominations—the Sunderkin. They're nearby too."
Nira's eyes narrowed. "Those things again? We already killed dozens of them back at the lower steps."
Varik shook his head. "These are different. Maybe fewer, but we can't afford to underestimate them. They're weak on their own, yes, but if they rush us while we're focused on the main one, we're finished. We can't let the Rotten Beast and the Sunderkin hit us at once."
Eros clenched his fists. "So what's the plan then?"
"That's where the Firstborn come in," Varik said. "They'll guard the surrounding tunnel routes and slow down or eliminate any incoming Sunderkin. We only need a few minutes to kill the main one. If they can buy us that time, we stand a chance."
He turned toward Riven for a brief second. "There are five Firstborns. I'll assign them to the tunnels. They won't hold forever, but they don't need to. They just need to hold long enough."
Nira folded her arms. "And what about him?"
Her eyes locked on Riven.
Varik gave a half-smirk. "Leave him be. He killed three of ours, didn't he? Caused a lot of trouble. I say this is a fitting reward. Let him earn his keep."
Riven didn't respond, but his glare said more than enough.
The Firstborn who had spotted the enemy presence was a rare type: a utility-mask bearer. His mask gave him the ability to detect nearby lifeforms—like a spiritual radar—and also grant minor healing through cellular acceleration. The effects varied based on the user's personality and mental discipline. In this case, it was just enough to warn them of approaching threats, but not enough to mark exact locations.
Varik gathered everyone around him. The Rotten Beast stood at the center of a large, circular chamber within the sewers, where three major tunnels converged. The tunnels were wide and arched, each about twenty feet in height and slick with dripping sewage. The layout formed a crude "Y" shape, with the creature positioned directly at the meeting point.
He pointed toward the leftmost tunnel first.
"This path curves sharply to the left and slopes downward. The echo suggests water flow is heavier here, so it might muffle sound. I'll assign two Firstborn—female and male. Their mask types are complementary, one defensive and one speed-focused."
Then he turned to the right tunnel.
"This one rises slightly and has debris along the sides. Fewer places to hide, but good for ranged combat. One male and two female Firstborn here. Similar arrangement. One for distraction, one for attack and one for healing if needed."
Finally, he pointed to the center path—the one directly ahead of them, facing the Rotten Beast head-on.
"Riven, this one's yours."
Riven raised an eyebrow. "Alone? You're assigning me an entire tunnel by myself?"
Varik didn't look up. "Yes. That tunnel hasn't shown much movement, and the utility-mask bearer couldn't detect anything down it. If anything comes, you'll hear it before it reaches you."
"But what about a weapon?"
"We don't have any spare weapons," Varik replied without hesitation. "And besides, you seem capable enough to hold your own."
Riven's jaw clenched. His mind boiled, but he kept his face composed. He thought to himself bitterly, Capable my ass. This bastard wants me to die.
Varik continued, "Once we're in position, I'll go in first and act as a decoy. That thing needs to be focused on me, not the rest of you. Nira and Eros will come in from both flanks and attack while it's distracted. When I give the signal, everyone moves to their assigned tunnels. Hold your ground. No matter what."
He looked at each person in the group, eyes hard and unflinching. "If any Sunderkin get through, we'll be overrun. You hold that line or we all die."
There was a pause, the silence thick with tension. Then Varik nodded.
"That's the plan. Get moving."
He turned to go, but before he could take a step, Riven's voice rang out loud and sharp, nearly echoing through the chamber.
"The hell do you mean that's the plan? I'm guarding a tunnel by myself. With no weapon? What am I supposed to do—throw rocks?"
Everyone paused. The Rotten Beast twitched at the sound but did not move.
Varik turned slowly, meeting Riven's eyes with his own steely gaze. "You'll manage. You're strong, aren't you?"
Riven wanted to yell, to curse him out, to tell them all what a suicide mission this felt like. But he didn't. Instead, he bit down the fury and stepped away toward his assigned tunnel.
His eyes never left the twitching, grotesque form of the Rotten Beast. His mind was already working, already calculating. One way or another, he would survive.
Even if Varik wanted him dead.