To Svarog It Is

*New chapter. I couldn't post it last night since I was too tired to finish it, but here we are. Now, I suppose we're closer to the intense point in the story. Stay tuned for what's next. Peace out and Deus vult. Let me know what you think about the chapter. Enjoy :)*

As he stepped out, the others were already waiting for him, prepared for whatever lay ahead.

"I see, so I'm late. Heh, quite something if you ask me. Come on, let's roll." 

They did give Mark a few odd looks, seeing how he acted so nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened, but none dared verbalize their bewilderment. In the blink of an eye, they were in front of Natasha's clinic, ready to carry boxes of resources. Oleg had showed up with a bunch of Wildfire members, all of them carrying boxes with whatever other resources they could share—mainly food and the like. 

"I see that you're all ready," said Oleg, turning back to look at the men he brought. "We've packed here what we could spare without making it worse for our people. Sure, the reaction we've got was clearly not a pleasant one, but I chose to place my faith in you." 

Mark nodded, giving Oleg a serious look that showed his honesty. 

"I truly wish to see this thing work. I want this world to flourish and see better days. That's all I can say." 

His words were heavy, carrying something that he didn't show but felt nonetheless. Quick was he to keep his face expressionless, especially when emotions were slowly pinching at all his sides. He turned back to his own group. 

"So, guys, in we go, we grab the medical supplies, then we move to the vagrants' camp. I'm sure Svarog should notice it, since the camp is right in front of his supposed home." 

Oleg raised a brow, crossing his arms, yet his thunder was stolen by none other than the over-friendly guy that has been causing problems since the start. 

"Oh, my friend, I take it that just like the great Sampo Koski, you've sneaked around and found your way inside, right?" 

March's eyes narrowed and she scoffed, tugging at Mark's sleeve. 

"Seriously? This guy again? Can't I just borrow that pipe from you and give him a tiny whack? Please?" 

Sampo brought his arms up in mock surrender, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Well now, little friend, I'm not sure I can handle that much violence." 

Mark chuckled and shook his head. He was very close to lending March the weapon, only for the hell of it. 

"Welp, sorry, March, but today he's with us. Extra help at carrying boxes. After all, he's a man of many talents; that much I know for sure." 

Before anyone could say something else, Natasha opened the door to her clinic, giving everyone her usual smile that hid the sleepless nights and countless work hours. 

"Oh, what a rowdy crowd so early in the morning." 

Her warm smile did melt the hearts of everyone around, including Mark, who suddenly felt fresh. 

"Oh, good morning. Yeah, we're here to just get over with this plan of ours and see what turn it takes." 

She nodded, motioning in. Everyone who had nothing to carry came in and grabbed a box each, making sure to handle them with extra care. The last thing they needed was someone ruining what little resources they could put together. 

"On to the vagrants' camp. Sampo, since you're such a dear fellow who's always down to helping others, how about leading the way?" 

Mark couldn't help it but try and get at Sampo in his own way, simply verbalizing some ideas in a tiny bout of wits. 

"Oh, but how gentlemanly of you. Sure, my friend, I shall put the name of Sampo Koski on the line and lead the way with such passion like none had seen before." 

Springy steps and a carefree demeanor were what put him in motion. He led the way with such excitement that it felt like a kid leading the way to the Christmas tree in the morning when gifts were waiting beneath the tree. 

"Typical Sampo behavior," mumbled Stelle, carrying her own box with care. Mark chuckled by her side. 

"Heh, classic stuff. I just can't hate that guy." 

The rest of their walk was light and uneventful. The path was surprisingly clear of monsters and dangers alike, which Mark found weird, until he figured out that Svarog has a lot of robots that just do his bidding, meaning that taking care of Fragmentum creatures was no issue for him. 

"That must be the camp up ahead, right?" asked March, her shoulders slumping from holding on to her package for a bit too long. 

"Yes indeed, little Missy, that's the camp. I'm sure I did a perfect job, so don't be shy on the five-star reviews." 

Seele scoffed, pretty pissed at his antics. 

"At this rate I might give you a zero-star rating and a beating, so keep your mouth shut, Sampo. You better help here too instead of running off to do who knows what." 

Mark left them to their bickering, focusing instead on the armed vagrants that headed their way. There was no malice in their stances, just awareness and confusion. 

"Wildfire? What are you doing here?" 

Mark motioned for Oleg to go ahead and talk, since he himself held no authority when it came to the group. If their 'leader' was to talk instead, the message would get across in a believable manner. 

"We've come here to put an end to the feud between us. We're all undergrounders, so we have to help one another. As a token of our collaboration, we went ahead and packed whatever resources we could spare and even brought our doctor to try and treat the wounded." 

The vagrants were clearly baffled, the men exchanging glances, not sure if to believe it, but their eyes sparkled with hope. After a moment of internal turmoil, one of them spoke up. 

"How are we supposed to trust you? What if this is all a set up?" 

Oleg stared right at them before letting the words roll out. 

"We've come with just enough weapons to protect ourselves. You have the numerical advantage in here. We're here to lend a hand and try to unite the people of the Underworld." 

Mark was hopeful that it would all work out without issues, which did bring a smile on his face. Still, the thought that it was going so smoothly did make him think that something else down the line would probably cause more trouble than expected. Still, he didn't open his mouth least March calls him out on jinxing them again. 

The men kept exchanging glances, but as soon as their eyes landed back on the people in their camp, they simply chose to put their faith in Wildfire. 

"Fine... come with us." 

The whole group walked together and soon started working. Resources were shared left and right in what little quantities they could be split so that everyone got a share. Meanwhile, Natasha set up an improvised clinic, with the others lending a hand. Mark made sure to do his best to keep working, moving on all sides like a crazy hound, taking no moment to rest. He was used to walking, so it didn't bother him. 

Mind turned off, he became a workaholic zombie focused purely on getting the task done. Many vagrants were hurt, some of them worse than others, and somehow Natasha managed to do wonders and mend their wounds. 

It didn't take long for a tiny white-haired someone to come check out the commotion, a hopeful smile on her face. 

"Oh, it's you. You came here to help?" 

Mark snapped out of it and nodded, more of a reflexive thing. 

"Sure, we did come here for that. I did tell Svarog that I want a nice world made, so I did my best to hold on to my promise. Sure, my efforts were pretty much insignificant; it's everyone else from Wildfire who did most, at least in the way I see it." 

He looked over to how everyone worked together—factions forgotten for a moment when humanity managed to shine through. March and Stelle didn't bother with tending to the wounds; they just carried medical supplies where needed, while Seele and Bronya kept an eye out for trouble, focusing on managing the distribution of other supplies and on Sampo since he had tried to run off twice already. Dan Heng and Natasha worked side by side, and Mark had just realized that he was slacking off. 

"Oh, sorry, Clara, but I think I should get back to work. We'll pay Svarog a visit later, if it's alright." 

She let out a satisfied hum, looking around. Without asking, she just went ahead and tried to lend a hand wherever possible. Mark smiled, glad that she kept that childish innocence, where one would want to help everyone, no matter who it is. 

"Heh, good kid. The sun I talked about... I'm not sure it will come as I expected, but at least she deserves to see the world above without issues. All of them deserve a normal life." 

Instead of thinking more, he started working again, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind. It took them a few hours, but everyone was set and ready to go. The resources had been shared, and the vagrants were all talking with the Wildfire members, bonding together. Clara came in from between the crowds, looking around for Mark and the others. 

"There you are. Let's go talk to Mister Svarog." 

Mark just glanced at the others and, with his head, motioned for them to follow. March, Stelle, and Dan Heng quickly set off, while Bronya and Seele came in from behind, their work done as well. 

The group went forward, following Clara as she opened the gates and passed by a bunch of robots. They allowed her passage and nearly threatened the group until she labeled them as her friends. 

Before they knew it, the final gate, larger than the rest, opened, revealing Svarog, who silently stood there, awaiting Clara's return. 

"Clara. You have returned." 

His visor turned a brighter shade of red as he looked over the others, stopping dead in its track as it found Mark. 

"I see that you have returned. Assessing scenario... calculating parameters... affirmative. Target has told the truth and made it possible." 

Mark nodded, crossing his arms nonchalantly. 

"Told you, Svarog. I had a plan... we had one, and we made it work. The Underworld should slowly unite, so for now it's time to set the record straight. The information on the Stellaron, as dangerous as it is... we need it. That's the only way to fully solve this issue..." 

His words lingered as he tried to think of the rest. How should he go about putting his own mental notes into words? Solve the issue, save the world, stop the freezing, or at least that's what it would lead to. The harm that's been done wouldn't be reversed, right? 

A drop of blood rolled down his face, but he quickly wiped it before it could touch his lips. Svarog simply analyzed his words, then gave his verdict. 

"Very well. Access to Stellaron Intelligence granted to outsiders. Requesting database material cache. Serial number 13175. Encryption level: highest. Request approved. Transmission..." 

Everyone had gathered round, waiting for Svarog to show everything. Just in time, Natasha managed to get there and witness what Svarog was about to show as well. Before their eyes, a hologram showed all that Svarog knew. Mark didn't bother much to watch it since the information was slowly coming up in his mind, the fog clearing. 

He went through multiple transmissions, all of them showing more and more, revealing the truth like peeling an onion's layers. No one did as much as mutter or breathe too loud. 

By the end of the transmissions, Bronya was pale, her expression mortified. Sure, she held more questions than answers, but all of them revolved around Cocolia and her choices. Mark's words, the ones she didn't wish to believe, were in fact true. The Stellaron did affect her, and even more than one would like. Mark simply stood silent to the side, trying to look through his newly surfaced memories, yet the times he thought about the location of the Stellaron, blood kept dripping out, more and more as his thoughts lingered on this specific thing. 

Natasha quickly called the group together, giving Bronya time to sort her thoughts all on her own. Meanwhile, they had to focus on the future to plan ahead. 

Again, Mark was silent, and it did bug them out a little, but making comments on it would prove useless. Natasha finally revealed that she's Wildfire's leader, to everyone's surprise—except the only one who had already known that bit of information. 

Time trickled slowly, the cogs turning over and over in Mark's mind. Cocolia's imminent death, the very thing he wished to avoid. How come he knew that bit of information but not what unfolded before that point? He couldn't tell. Maybe it had to do with his arrival in the world, or maybe a specific time in the past when he had been spoiled about it without even recalling the event. It didn't matter. 

His eyes looked up to the ceiling of the Underworld, and his resolve was made. 

"To the surface we go, everyone..." came his muttered words, carrying a hint of nervousness in them. 

"How do I even go about stopping a Stellaron?" 

Just as he was about to sink into his own mind once more, March playfully slapped him over the back of his head. It was enough to shake him out of it. 

"There. You were about to get all gloomy again. Come on, let's go rest for the day. We have time to go to the Overworld tomorrow." 

A tiny, yet sincere smile plastered itself on his face. He gave March's nose a gentle flick before heading back. 

"Well, what are you all waiting for? Let's head back and rest for now. We have grand things incoming."