From Moving Crates to Killing Gods Chapter 15: Mall

The sun, if the dim orb barely visible through the fog could be called that, had begun to sink toward the horizon when we reached it. A massive structure revealed itself before us, its original rectangular shape still discernible despite the extensive damage to its upper levels. Unlike the other ruins we’d passed, this one was enclosed, with walls and a roof largely intact, though there were still massive holes and collapsed sections.

Vines had infiltrated every opening, growing across the front of the building like a living curtain. But what caught my attention were the symbols above what had once been an entrance, runic characters etched into a tal plaque that had sohow survived whatever cataclysm had befallen this place.

I stepped closer, squinting at the symbols. They were familiar.

"Can anyone read that?" Darien asked, his tone suggesting he already knew the answer.

"Mall." I said, the translation surfacing from so buried mory. "It says Mall."

All eyes turned to .

"How do you know that?" Mira’s question held a sharp edge of suspicion.

I shrugged, my fingers never ceasing their manipulation of the yo-yo. "Sa runic alphabet the runic instructors used at the orphanage. They had these old texts sotis, with symbols like these."

"What’s a mall?" Finn asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"No idea." I admitted. "But it was important enough to put on a sign."

Darien approached one of the massive broken windows that lined the structure’s ground level. He crouched below the shattered edge, gesturing for us to stay low as well. Cautiously, he peered inside.

His sharp intake of breath was all the warning we needed. Sothing was in there.

One by one, we took turns looking into the cavernous interior of the mall. The space beyond was vast, a hollow center with multiple levels rising around it, connected by tal staircases. Balconies and walkways stretched across the open areas, many collapsed or hanging at precarious angles. The floor was littered with debris, punctuated by strange, angular objects whose purpose I couldn’t begin to guess.

And moving among them, sliding with grace across the cluttered landscape, were Corruptors.

The closest one drifted over what might have been a broken fountain, its body elongating to flow around the obstacle before contracting again. As it moved, the air around it seed to warp, like heat rising from hot tal.

"How many?" Darien whispered after we’d all had a look.

"I counted seven visible." Mira replied. "Probably more."

Ember’s face had gone pale, her earlier attempts at emotional control forgotten in the face of actual Corruptors. "We can’t go in there." she said, her voice cracking.

"We have to." Darien said firmly. "Look at the Citadel."

We all turned. From this vantage point, we could see that our path to Argent led directly through the mall. Going around would add days to our journey, taking us through open terrain with minimal cover.

"So what’s the plan?" I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral. "Rush through and hope they’re slow?"

Darien’s eyes narrowed slightly. "They’re not slow. And they hunt by sensing emotion, especially hope. The more of us that are clustered together, the stronger the beacon." He glanced around the group, his decision already made. "We split into two teams. Distribute our emotional signatures. Make ourselves harder to detect."

"Split up?" Kira echoed, doubt clear in her tone. "Is that really safer?"

"Yes." Mira said with the sa certainty as Darien. "One large group is easy to track. Two smaller groups, taking different paths through the structure, have a better chance of at least one team making it through."

At least one team. Not both. The phrasing wasn’t lost on .

"I’ll lead the first team." Darien announced, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Mira will lead the second." He began dividing us with sharp, decisive gestures.

"With Ember, Gale, Silas, Finn, and Cobb." He then pointed to the rest of us. "Mira takes Allaran, Kira, Phinyx, Yami, Petra, Rolen, and Coco."

The division was brutally logical. He’d claid our Navigator and our most reliable, powerful assets for himself. My team was the leftover basket, the weird, the untested, and the purely theoretical. A utility power, a grass grower, a vibe manipulator, a human radio, a sticky girl, a friendly person, and a juice maker. It was almost insulting.

I tried not to let the insult show. Mira’s face was unreadable, the tight neutrality of soone resolved to make the best with whatever they were handed. Kira’s eyes t mine, and I could see her fighting the urge to protest.

Kira drifted close, her voice a whisper ant only for . "We’re alone in there, aren’t we?"

"We’re not." I said, matching her low volu. "At least we’re the team with a juice wizard."

She almost laughed, but caught herself. "Don’t joke." she muttered, but the little quiver in her voice said she needed the joke as much as I did.

Darien wasted no more ti. "Two objectives. Get to the far end and regroup on the roof, above the main atrium. Move fast, minimize contact. Use your abilities to mask, reroute, or distract if you have to." He paused, then turned to Finn. "You’ll be with , but rember, if I’m gone, you’ll lead the rest. Rember where the real Citadel is."

Finn looked on the verge of saying sothing, but swallowed hard and nodded.

His expression, usually so composed, was etched with a genuine weariness.

Mira led us toward the eastern edge of the atrium, where we slipped behind a massive column carved with spiraling grooves. We huddled together in the darkness cast by a massive staircase, its marble steps rising toward the second level like the spine of so ancient beast.

"I’m sorry." Mira said, the words simple and stark in the dusty air. "I’m sorry you all got entangled in this."

Her voice sounded so genuine, that for a mont I forgot the fact that she was keeping secrets from us. We were still useful for whatever she needed, that was the only reason she tried to keep us alive.

Mira glanced back toward where Darien’s team was preparing to enter the other passage. "He and I... we have always been rivals. Our fathers sit first and second in the rank of the Citadel. Darien is the direct descendant of the First, the Citadel Master. His bloodline is the oldest. I am only the daughter of the Second, the Minister." She said it not with bitterness, but with the tone of soone stating a stubborn, inconvenient fact.

"But in training, in strategy, in the trics that our fathers actually value... I have always been better. It is a truth that eats at him. It makes every decision a contest, and now, your lives are part of that contest. For that, I am truly sorry.

She turned and began ascending the stairs, her shoulders set. "But since you are my team now, I will do everything in my power to ensure our survival. Let’s move."