Chapter 4 - Worm

A large jet black mat spread smoothly across the floor, covering all but the edges of the room. Intricate white line work defined the combat ring in a circle which was bisected into two parts. In the center of each half was a small white box, and within each box stood a marmot, garbed in black robes with white trim and red accents. Around the circle sat cross legged young marmots and prairie dogs of varying size in the same uniform. The singular exception was a larger marmot with graying fur, whose robes were reversed in white with black trim.

The vaulted ceiling was dimly lit by glowing rock that outlined arched columns adjoining at the central high point of the dome. Two sets of opposing closed doors were framed in the stone walls. Incense braziers burned along the outer walls, permeating the room in rich cedar scent with honeysuckle undertones. The smoke snaked upwards, clouding high in the dome where it vented.

The combatants in the ring faced each other and bowed gracefully. The grey marmot approached the center of the mat. His white robes flowed, exposing a mechanical leg composed of miniature gears and pistons that fluidly articulated. This advanced machinery did not however seem to be improving the rough hobble which accompanied his movement. His kyphotic posture added to his aging appearance, indicated by the hump under his robes which caused his upper back to bulge and round.

“Young masters.” he said, speaking slowly with a quivering smile, his voice wavering yet well projected off the diffuse acoustics. “This is the final round of the seventh trial. Master Jake and Master Greg will demonstrate the full martial prowess of a burrowing rodent trained in the Way of the Earthshaker!”

“The rocks remember!” shouted the youthful warriors lining the ring in unison, and the elder marmot’s grin turned to a wide smile exposing his yellowed teeth.

He eyed each of the combatants, turning towards them shakily. “Masters, are you ready?” They issued nods of approval. “Take form!” Jake and Greg assumed different starting positions: Jake with a staggered stance and arms forward with open paws, Greg with feet spread wide and his paws forming fists tucked tightly to his waist.

The underground gym was dead silent. 

“Initiate!” said the old marmot with firm but hushed command and took three quick steps backward. This movement was smooth and calculated in stark contrast to his approach.

Jake went on the offense, streaking towards Greg in a flash. To the untrained eye, it would be challenging to catch the intricacy and speed of their moves, but the observers were anything but untrained.

Greg made the slightest lateral movement, just enough to avoid a perfectly executed paw strike from Jake. Greg countered, and Jake anticipated; they locked arms and began a push, where neither appeared to make significant progress.

The battle was within the mind at this point. The two marmots locked in struggle were now battling on multiple dimensions, driving into each other's minds. Two immovable wills attempting to break each other.

Then Jake saw it. A moment of weakness, a latent memory from Greg’s past. His father, in a long line of Gregs, disappointed by his progeny, worried he wouldn’t live up to the legendary namesake.

Jake struck, pulling the memory and its associated feelings of inadequacy boiling to the surface. Greg faltered, his eyes narrowed and face soured. They were physically and mentally severed as the emotions manifested into a vibrant shockwave spreading them back towards their starting positions. Jake seized the moment and channeled a concentrated burst of power through his paws joined at the wrist, palms outward targeting Greg. The ring of marmots gestured an open-pawed movement, shielding the ring in a translucent blue sphere.

Greg saw the blast coming and drew on his reserves deploying a smaller version of the same shielding movement. Jake's attack impacted Greg, his firm stance sliding along the mat. The shield deflected the bulk of the energy upwards, where it was absorbed, distorting the larger protective dome in a prismatic display of color.

Greg refocused, angry with his weakness and for allowing Jake to see it, but it wasn’t quick enough. Jake smirked and was back on him and this time executed a perfectly formed Earthshaker pawstrike which sent Greg reeling into the forcefield.

Again, Jake was on him. He had this fight and they both knew it. Greg's doubt filled his mind as Jake came in for the submission. Greg made moves to defend, but he was hurting. His maneuvers became sluggish and Jake was anticipating his every action. Jake's confident grin widened and his eyes glinted, as he wrestled Greg down and got him into a chokehold.

Greg struggled, pressing his nose down into Jake's stubby forearm. He tried to slide a finger or two into the gap but Jake’s arm bulged like a constrictor finishing its prey. Greg reached out a paw and tapped the mat rapidly.

The old marmot ended the contest, declaring Jake the victor and Greg defeated. As Greg stood up straightening his robes he saw the looks on the faces around the room. The circle of novices leaned towards each other murmuring in hushed whispers. For over a century, the line of Greg has held the title of Archpsy, but not today. Today it returns to the line of Jake.

Greg's body commanded him, running what felt like a routine program, as if he were a spectator watching the scene unfold. He returned to his starting block and bowed out with Jake, exiting the ring. Greg could hear the commotion and celebration behind him as he left the chamber.

“I truly am a disappointment,” Greg muttered to himself as he entered the dingy gear room. He grabbed his bag from the earthen cubby and solemnly but quickly changed to his civilian attire. The only sound that penetrated the silence was Greg’s movement as he packed up his things and closed the wooden locker door. Occasionally, he could hear the energetic cheers muffled through the walls. He stood at the door looking back into the familiar space for a moment. His brow furrowed and he looked down, turning to make his leave.

Walking down the hall that led from the training area to the main entrance he was judged by a line of photos all titled ‘Greg’. His father, his grandfather, his great grandfather and so on until he approached the end of the row.

He left the Earthshaker Gym, the historic dig that constructed them was the first large expansion for The Burrow nearly two thousand cycles ago. A colossal stone carving of a prairie dog. Greg approached the gargantuan monument, examining it and reading the placard. ‘The first Archpsy and the last in the line of Chuck, seed of a new era - may the memory of his sacrifice never be buried.’

Greg placed a paw on the plaque and looked back up at the looming statue, his eyes glazed over as his glare hollowed and pierced the figure.

He was oblivious to the world, passing through The Spine on his way home. His vision was tunneled, guiding him down a track where his mind closed and the external world ceased to matter.

“Greg!” A voice called out repeatedly, snapping him out of the trance. Greg looked over his shoulder as if the voice was calling to another Greg. “Greg, what are you doing here?” Greg saw her in the distance, Mari mounted on Phlip’s back with her father hanging on, arms wrapped around her, the groundhog pup tucked between them.

As if he had just appeared, Greg took in the scene around him. Hundreds of drenched and displaced rodents mucked through debris laden streets gathering into small groups. A baby mouse sat in the mud, crying out for help as a family of moles stopped and the mother picked it up tightly and comforting and quelling the tears. On the other side of Mari, a large rat dug through the mud frantically sending chunks flying. It reached in and pulled out a large chest, caked in mud and scurried off.

“Mari, what’s going on here?” Greg looked around in a state of confusion at the soggy inhabitants of The Burrow and washed-out passages leading to the various digs. “There was a breach at Deepworks… but it seems like the waters have subsided for now?” Mari questioned as she looked around at the diminished flows that trickled down the digs forming small waterfalls into the pit where the crystal structure protruded through The Spine. It shuddered, the light faded. Gasps from the gathered crowd filled The Spine, echoing upwards. The crystal flickered and returned to the appropriate daybreak hue of light yellow.

Mari and Greg looked back to each other after observing the abnormal behavior of the crystal. Mari’s brow furrowed above her deep brown eyes. “Have you seen Jerro?!”

“He was on shift this lune, wasn’t he?” Greg asked somewhat rhetorically. 

“Well, you two better go check on your friend,” Mari’s dad said as he slid off Phlip’s back clumsily. “I’ll stay here and see if there is anything I can do to help.”

Greg approached them closer and wrapped his arms around Mari’s dad, having to bend down to accommodate the much smaller gopher. “You’re the best, Mr. Stonepaw.”

“Please, Greg, for the thousandth time call me by my first name!” Mari’s dad responded, patting Greg’s back while looking at Mari and mouthing a question. Mari couldn’t understand what he was asking but shrugged playing along.

“You got it, Jupi,” Greg said with a smile from far above Jupi’s head.

Mari hopped off Phlip’s back and hugged her dad tightly. He gave her a kiss on the head. “You did great kiddo. Now go find Jerro and make sure he’s okay. I’ll catch up with you back at the den later.”

They broke ways. Jupi set off to aid his fellow denizens of The Burrow guiding the Graslow pup by the paw, while Greg, Mari, and Phlip pushed up the main dig that led towards Deepworks. 

The path was in complete ruin. Flood debris and mud coated everything, blocking out the bioluminescent glow of the roots. All but those towards the top of the dig were blotted out. They trudged slowly through the slop.

From Phlip’s back Mari looked over to Greg, inspecting her friend, who was nearly as large as Phlip. Greg was looking to the ground as they moved. He grabbed a circular door that had wedged itself into the mud blocking their path and ripped it out with a shout, smashed it over his head and launched the two pieces down the dig.

She pulled Phlip’s reins to stop. “Greg, what's going on with you? Are you alright?”

“Just living up to my father’s disappointment, so nothing out of the ordinary.” Greg said.

She threw a leg over Phlip and plopped off the saddle into the mud closing the few sticky steps it took to get to Greg. She put a paw on his arm, she couldn’t reach much higher. “You’re an amazing marmot. I don’t know a single rodent in the burrow that’s stronger and more dedicated than you.”

“Thanks Mari… I wish my father felt the same, but it doesn’t matter now.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

“I lost the title. Jake crushed me. My father will never forgive me for failing our lineage.” Greg said, shaking his head and withdrawing from Mari he continued up the dig.

She hopped back on Phlip and caught up. “Greg, your father… your father is a fool if he doesn’t believe in you.” 

“I’ve given him all the reason in the world not to.”

They walked for a while longer in silence, outside of their feet sinking into the mud occasionally and suctioning out.

“Greg, something strange happened to me last—”

“Stop,” Greg said, interrupting her. She shot a glare at Greg.

“Wait, I hear it too,” Mari said, pressing a paw to Phlips ear, he sank to the ground silently. She slowly swung a leg over and slid off the saddle without making a sound.

A low rumbling began, progressively building. “It’s coming at us…” Mari muttered. Down the dig, it came into view: a huge pulsating mass, filling the entirety of the dig, hurtling towards them, crushing the debris and extinguishing the last of the bioluminescence as it wriggled forward. The head, if you could call it that, came into view, enormous spikes protruded around a beak-like mouth lined with razor-sharp teeth.

Mari pulled the petrified watermelon helmet from her bag.“I’ve got a plan, but we’ve only got one shot at this. Get on my tail and direct your blast at me!” she yelled over the crescendoing roar. Greg stumbled behind Mari as the ground quaked underfoot. The creature closed in: 100 tails, 80 tails, 60 tails—it was incredibly fast.

“NOW!” Mari yelled with no response from Greg

“Greg? NOW!” She repeated looking back back over her shoulder. He was frozen with fear. 

Mari took two quick steps towards Greg, reached her tiny paw up grabbing a tuft of his chest fur and jumped to smack his face. “Greg, I need you or we’re dead. Focus your energy on me!” This broke his trance and he quickly gestured with open paws around his body, flourishing the finish towards Mari, who had returned to her position and already begun her movements. Mari harnessed the momentum of Greg’s blast and in perfect form rotated it around her as the beasts' gaping maw bared down on them.

Darkness engulfed everything, followed by warmth and disgusting entrails that smelled of rotting earth. Mari flicked on her lantern and turned toward Greg. Greg stood perfectly still, completely covered in chunks of flesh and unknown goop. He stared at Mari, they both turned toward Phlip.

Phlip’s tongue smacked into Mari like a wet towel. His eyes widened and he started hacking and sneezing. Phlip sat back on his hind legs attempting to use his muddy paws to clean the taste from his mouth without success.

“Gross, dude… why would you do that!?” Mari said to Phlip. 

Greg let out a laugh, breaking his dour mood and Mari joined in as they reveled in the moment of triumph.

“We did it, no one is going to believe we just defeated an earthworm!” Greg shouted.

“It doesn’t matter what anyone believes, we know it!” Mari smiled, joining him in celebration. Greg presented his paws upwards and down low while Mari jumped up and smacked them both. He grabbed her up and swung her around in a circle then plopped her back down next to Phlip who was now hopping around excitedly, mirroring the energy.

After a few moments, they gathered themselves, wiped off the guts to the best of their ability. Greg led the way now, blasting his way through the soft lining of the worm and they proceeded on their journey down the now mud and entrails-covered tunnel towards Deepworks.