CIRCE
Bones and dust were all that remained when we made the journey. My hand shook as my Gammas waded through the ruins that remained of the once-hulking monolith that the High Alpha's Labyrinth had been.
Horror clawed at me from the fact that the Gammas had not been telling tall tales like I had thought. The mist had been receding, but that was days ago.
What remained of the mist—the nightmares within—had come here to crumble. Now the creatures that whispered in the confines of the red, poisonous haze were nothing but bones and rotted flesh.
I looked up, and seeing the sun beyond the borders of the pack was the strangest sight.
My head dipped so that I could continue to monitor the working Gammas and, of course—
A lash of a whip ripping skin cleaved through the air as another lazy Vargan was promptly punished.
My dread further curdled into venom. "Kill any Vargan that slacks," I ordered one of the Gammas with a whip.
