“You’ve been out for ages, man,” he heard Yoshi say. “We were worried. It was like you couldn’t hear us.”

Cade felt numb. Maybe once he would have felt proud, but now it all felt so pointless. No matter what he did, no matter who he killed. It was all for the entertainment of some sick master.

He was a pit bull in a dogfight. Even if he won, he didn’t win. It was back in the cage, back to being kicked and beaten. Only his master won. Only Abaddon won.

Worst of all, he knew it was just a passing amusement. One fraction of focus. Abaddon had said so himself. The alien’s mind was so advanced, he had thousands upon thousands of thoughts at once.

“Cade, talk. Please,” Quintus said, struggling to his feet. The legionary’s arm hung limp by his side, where some spear or javelin had sliced deep.

But it was Cade’s arm that took Amber’s interest.

“You’re hurt!” Amber cried, grasping at him.

Cade looked down to see red dripping between the joints of his armor. He had a flash of memory from their headlong charge, where a javelin had broken through his shield.

The others crowded in, pawing at his arm to see the extent of the damage. Pain. Pain that had always been there, like a dull drumming at the back of his mind. Blood dripped from his armor, and Cade could see where the javelin had skewered between the plates. A lucky shot, though one he had hardly noticed in the battle as adrenaline drove him on.

“We should wrap it…”

“… stitches…”

“Don’t touch it.”

“… had some water…”

The voices swirled and merged, a crescendo in Cade’s ears. He pulled away, staggering a few feet to the side.

“Please,” Cade said. “I just … I need to be alone.”

“Cade…,” Amber pleaded.

But already his feet were moving, taking him deeper into the tunnel.

It was a strange home, this place. Walls that glowed blue, blue as the blood that seemed to drip from the very ceilings, so brutal had the butchery of the Romans been.

The bodies were nowhere to be seen, and he spun to make sure he was not mistaken, looking back at where the falconets had fired. Understanding dawned as he spotted the flames at the end of the tunnel, where the purple of the grass had been replaced by orange flames. The Romans were burning the bodies outside.

And then he saw it. The Codex, following him. No timer this time. No new challenge just yet. Even so, he knew Abaddon—at least in some fraction of his focus—was watching.

With the Romans burning the bodies, Cade had a chance to see the place the Grays had called home. He staggered on, ignoring the calls of his friends, taking one branch, then another, passing by splintered doors. He caught glimpses of bunks carved into walls, but his curiosity was tempered by the hints at the massacre that the Romans had enacted within.