Walking through the mountains was proving harder than anyone had believed. Due to the winter months, the snow had begun to pile high, high enough to give even Charlotte’s tall frame trouble. Liv shivers, huddling close to Donovan and his Tonfa’s flame. The wind whips around them, howling like a beast in the wild; though, not a bit of windchill reaches them– Charlotte made sure of that. The thief treks through the snow, Anthony’s hand keeping them from running away. Though they gave their word, Anthony figured it’d be better safe than sorry.

  “A-Are we almost t-t-there?” Donovan calls, his teeth chattering together. While Charlotte could keep the windchill from buffeting his skin, nothing could stop snow from freezing his feet.

  “Only a bit longer.” The thief says, their eyes scanning the expanse of the mountain. Their eyes roam over the untouched snow, a blank canvas of white unmarred by footprints: all aside theirs, of course.

  “I believe they’re still attempting to take your life, Liv.” Bruno adds, wariness clear in their tone. “I advise you to turn back and let Hellfire deal with the mess."

  “And let me get in trouble?” Liv questions. “I reckon they’re not gonna throw away their life for somethin’, ‘specially since we’re gonna heal their friend.”

  "Humans are inherently selfish creatures, Liv– as is every beast of flesh and blood." Bruno retorts. "If it means saving their life, they wont hesitate to kill and maim."

  Liv rolls her eyes. Like they could actually do anything tied up like that. Silence reigns between the group, the only noise being Donovan's occasional complaining and the sounds of Liv recharging her gauntlets against her waiting flesh. Eventually, the thief stops, their eyes wandering an outcropping of stones. They meander over, turning to face Liv’s group.

  “It’s behind here.” They say. “Just be… Careful. Even if I explain why you’re here, they’re still going to get mad." Their voice freezes in their throat, a pensive expression crossing their face. Eventually, they gather the gumption to speak, words tumbling from their throat like stones off a cliff. "Just promise you won’t tell anyone about this place! Please? We won't steal from Hellfire anymore, I promise!”

  “Ya got a done deal!!” Liv says, saluting with a smile. Charlotte shoots Anthony a glance, her hand resting on Pierre's hilt. Anthony nods his head, adjusting the camera on his neck.

  The thief lets out a short sigh before wrapping around the stones, kicking snow out of the way as she does. Just beneath the layer of frozen cold is a small hatch barely large enough to fit three people comfortably. Liv takes charge, pulling it open. Snow cascades down its surface, the sizeable wooden slab barely a paper weight before her considerable muscle. A small wave of heat washes over them as it opens, a momentary relief before the cold sets back in

  "Woah." The thief says subconsciously, their mouth speaking before their mind.

  "Hm?" Liv questions, her eye turning to the thief behind her. The thief in question blinks, the realization that their inner words manifested as outer ones.

  "Nothing!" They quickly pipe up, adding, "It just, uh, usually takes at least two of us to get that latch open... And it's still kind of a struggle, even together."

  Liv looks down at the wooden slab, easily popping it up and down with a hand. Her muscles barely flex, the strain almost negligible. It seems she wasn't the only one interested now, Donovan's hand slipping under the wood as well. Liv lets go, allowing him to take over the task of carrying the heavy burden. He dips, his other hand shooting out to keep it open. He manages it, though barely.

  "Holy jesus!" He says through strained teeth, his face reddening with the effort. Liv chuckles breathlessly, her arm snaking to take the burden off his arms. Donovan falls back, his breath steaming in the cold air. He watches Liv effortlessly hoist it, a jealous huff escaping his mouth. "You still gotta give me your workout plan."

  "Still minin'." Liv responds simply, a smile still stretched over her face.

  "Back on track, guys." Anthony calls, his eyes peering down the latch below.

  Leading down is a ladder, a trickle of light cascading up the dark depths. Just barely in sight is a trail of dirt packed down into a path. The air is stale, moist with melted snow and moss. The thief chuckles nervously, a thought suddenly popping into their mind.

  “Uh… Can one of you untie me so I can get down?”

  “That won’t be needed.” Charlotte says, taking a step closer to the young woman. The thief lets out another chuckle, nerves intertwining with the nervousness from before.

  “Then, uh… How am I gonna get down?”

  That was how the thief found themself tied to Liv’s muscular back, jostling with each rung Liv descends. Liv tries to grunt out a demand for a bit of stillness from her newfound piggy backer, but her voice is muted by the bag caught between her teeth. It wasn't a burden on her muscles per say, but she had to admit it was a struggle dividing her attention between the three tasks all at once.

  At the bottom of the ladder is a small path, only permitting a car to drive through at most. Oil lit lanterns burn on dimly across the walls, long shadows cascading across the walls. At the end of the hall sits a metal door, though the lack of handle throws its doorness into question. Liv drops the thief from her back, giving both her shoulders a good, long roll before finally pulling them up.

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  “This place is cozy.” Donovan lies, adjusting the coat on his shoulders.

  “It’s home.” The thief murmurs, their feet clicking against the stone of the floor. Liv follows them, her group trailing just behind. They seemed on guard, and Liv supposes she could see why. This place felt familiar, though– almost like she was back in her own hole in the ground. Her gauntleted finger trails against the wall, the familiar feeling of scraping rock coming in its wake. Though the composition of the floor was fundamentally different, the feeling itself was familiar.

  They arrive at the door in short notice, Liv taking the initiative to knock on the door. A small panel on the front slides open, brown eyes staring back at them. They glare at them before locking on the girl in front, their glare quickly shifting to panic.

  “You led people here, Sheila!?” The voice cries.

  “They’re good!” The woman known as Sheila cries, her head gesturing to Anthony. “He’s got some healing ability! He can fix Malo!”

  The eyes stare openly at Anthony, appraising him. Anthony nods his assent, producing his caduceus from his waist. For a long moment, the hall is silent, a standoff between morals and responsibility. Morals win in the end as the door slides open, the opener standing before them. He’s young, maybe a late teen with acne running across the length of his face. Gangly, though he doesn’t reach that high, only being a bit taller than Liv herself.

  “Fine.” He mumbles, gesturing in. “Get in and out.”

  Liv strolls behind Sheila, a small hum cascading from her chest. It rapidly dies in her throat when she sees the town before her.

  To call it ratty would be an insult to rodents. The homes were made from loose wood scavenged from products of the old world, loosely cobbled together in something that could be described as a home if one were feeling generous. The ceiling hung high, small stalactites leaking droplets of water down to the floor below. Lanterns illuminate the path forward, a handful of people mingling about in the cramped street. Their mingling halts, however, as Liv and co walk through. The screeching of daggers bounces off the cavern, the townspeople pointing their weapons toward the group. Charlotte’s blade had joined the cacophony as soon as they had moved, Pierre poised to strike the nearest one in an instant. Donovan points the barrel end of his Tonfa to Sheila’s head, flames already building in its core. Liv slams her hands into her chest preemptively, an orange glow cascading through her gauntlets.

  “They’re here to help!” Sheila shouts, shivering as a Tonfa digs into her skull. “I brought them here! They can save Malo!”

  A ripple of whispers echo through the crowd, their speculative eyes locked on the team of four. Liv slowly lowers her arms, waving the orange from the fault lines in her gauntlets. That seems to ease their mind just a bit, their daggers finding their homes back in their sheathes. Charlotte and Donovan put their weapons away as well, though Anthony sees fit to keep his caduceus front and center.

  “You can’t heal whatever sickness she has.” One of the elders speaks, though elder may be a stretch. He seems to be in his forties, maybe late thirties if stress has weathered him enough. He’s dressed in old world clothing, a ratty t-shirt draped across his shoulders, aged by time and abuse. “They’re lying to you so they can arrest us all.”

  “But they have a Synth Weapon that heals! On my life they do!”

  The elder man looks to her with a questioning glare, his gaze washing over the group. “Which one of you.”

  Anthony furrows his brow, an uncomfortable look washing over his face. His eyes dart around, his pupils dilating in his skull. Slowly, he takes a cautious step forward, suddenly invested in getting inside the building. “Yeah, that’d be me.”

  The elder stares at him before drawing his dagger once more, slicing a path down his palm. A crimson trail leaks down his open hand, trickling down, collecting in a puddle on the floor.

  “If you’re really telling the truth,” He growls, taking a step closer to Anthony. “Then heal my wounds.”

  Anthony glances up at him, a plussed expression on his face. He casually waves his caduceus, pink energy arcing from him to the injured man. It settles on their hand, their flesh rapidly knitting back together. The man looks down, an expression bordering relief blooming on his face.

  “So you weren’t lying…” He murmurs, testing his new flesh. It was smoother than the rest of his callused hands, a fact not missed by the elder.

  “We’re just tryna help.” Liv says, adding. “And get our stuff back, but mostly the helpin’ part!”

  “So that’s how it is.” The elder says. He nods gravely, his eyes darting to Anthony. “We have more injured. If you can heal them all, I will let you see our leader.”

  Anthony eyes him suspiciously, his hand clenching around the caduceus. He slowly shakes his head, assuming a defensive stance. “I’ll do it after.”

  “Just do it now-.” Liv starts, stopping as Anthony lets out a “shush”, his expression dire.

  The elder squints his eyes, openly assessing Anthony with a critical eye. He glances at Liv for just a moment, his face softening. With a sigh, he nods, waving his arm out.

  “Fine.” He mutters. “Follow me.”

  Liv smiles, bumping Anthony on the arm. “See, we’re doin’ good!”

  Anthony nods, a small smile cresting his lips. Liv smiles brighter, walking forward, Charlotte and Donovan following close after. Anthony reaches his arm back, grabbing Donovan, pulling him close.

  “You can hear it too, right?” He questions.

  “No, but I can feel something off here.” Donovan responds, his eyebrows furrowed. “No place would’ve let some random kid guard the door, especially if they knew we were coming.”

  “Right.” Anthony mutters. “Do me a favor and find that Malo person. I have a sneaking suspicion…”

  Donovan nods, shrugging Anthony’s shoulder off, slinking in a random direction. Anthony watches him go, his caduceus slotting back into place. Slowly, he continues walking with Liv and Charlotte, trying to look as casual as possible. Something was making his hair stand on end… Because they weren’t the only ones with strong Synth Signatures.