Tanhkmet’s company of survivors made their trek down to the catacombs entrance without so much as a word. All while leading the small column’s way, he held the boy Caesos in his arms, as they trudged across the charred and barren ground.

  Time did not pass as normal, amid their silence. When they finally arrived at the stronghold’s entrance, it almost felt as though they'd simply appeared there, without so many hours spent in transit.

  The ingress was bored into a rocky outcropping some distance outside the city proper, and above the urban plain in elevation. A very meager sprinkling of outworks fortified the area beyond a small wall.

  Its interior was like a barrow, so forgotten it was, and dug deep into the earth, leading downwards in steep hallways that had once linked to the catacombs beneath Atum-Ra. Their bootfalls remained the sole sound of their passage, but on the stone slope they became a constant low rumble rather than muted on burnt earth.

  From time to time Caesos shifted in his arms, and Tanhkmet caught glimpses of his eyes. Milky gray plates wide with dulled, since-calmed fear, but fear made no worse by the darkness.

  The long descent eventually leveled off and gave way to a more intricate complex. As the company began to light lamps left scattered around the halls, it became clear that many of the spaces were of recent construction, and of military purpose, while others deeper-carved were older, perhaps even of natural formation. Had not so much of that half-forgotten maze been caved-in or otherwise sealed-off by the devastation aboveground, it might’ve been easy to become lost venturing further and deeper.

  Finding the chamber intended by the military renovators as an infirmary, Tanhkmet lay Caesos down on a musty cot. The boy whimpered in weak protest as Tanhkmet pulled away, but otherwise remained passive, curling into a fetal position around his doll.

  After that he bade most of his command out and around the small complex, ordering them to make the space functional for their purposes in what ways they could.

  “Junius, Lycera, Unjet, Belisarion – stay here a moment,” he said, before those officers and the rookie had left.

  He could feel the strength draining from his face, and knew it was obvious to those watching. His three commanders well masked their concern for him, at least but he could tell they were all affected by his facade of stoicism melting away.

  “Something… something has gone terribly wrong. I’m going to be honest with you lot — I… I’m… I’m lost, here. Maybe even more than you are. Maybe I shouldn’t say that to you — but I have to, to someone.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Be that as it may… we may very well be the only authority representing peace, and law, maybe for hundreds of miles. We have a duty, still.”

  The patrol rookie hung on his every word, as had Caesos to his doll. Devastated and confused, twice so after his confession of weakness, it almost looked like she expected some sort of explanation from him, one that would help everything make sense.

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  “If we are to execute that duty with any effect, we must plan our next actions well,” he continued. “The stability of the realm and countless lives could hinge on what be the undertakings of this company in the next few hours or days. To that end, the group of you should be prepared to advise me on how best plan such undertakings”

  “Sir—“

  Tanhkmet looked to the rookie.

  “Sir… with all due respect, I’m not even with the Guard. I met you for the first time as anything more than a cadet just this morning. Surely this is not my place, to advise you.”

  “Lieutenant Belisarion… please sit down.” He motioned for the other officers to do the same. “Perhaps you haven’t considered this… and I don’t want it to come as a shock to you if you haven’t. But you, lieutenant, are likely the highest ranking member of the Patrol Corps for miles. If not the only member of the Corps. You’ll be an important source of knowledge on their realm of affairs, at the very least. But if you do truly value your own wisdom so little, I will take that in due consideration.”

  He turned back to the others.

  “We need to start with a search for survivors. There may be few…” he said, cringing at the understatement, “…but it is our duty to at least conduct a search.”

  “There aren't many of us, sir,” said Junius. “How do you suppose we cover the whole of the city?”

  “Our priority is the palatial mall. We’ll shoot up a flare just outside the entrance to the bunker, and hopefully anyone still alive and able to walk will be drawn to that, first. But we’ll start with a direct path to the mall, and search thoroughly there. If we come across anyone else in the city as we make our way there, then perhaps… their presence can inform the rest of our search. Junius, you’ll lead the effort. Leave a squad with us down here, and then rally everyone else to accompany you on the search. And… stay strong. Not just for the soldiers, but for yourselves, too. Whatever you find.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “The second order of business is to try to get back in contact with the rest of the eastern provinces,” Tanhkmet continued, as Junius departed. “There should be telegraphy equipment down here. Older boxes, but still on the network. We’re dug in so deep down here that I doubt the wires were severed, at least not the outgoing ones leading away from the city. We just need to get the console up and running and allow some of the other nodes to help us get our bearings. If we can get in touch with the commanders of the Corps based in Hilomnos, we can perhaps start to form some sort of—“

  He straightened upright.

  “I’ve just remembered— Gods. One of the imperial family should’ve been far away from Atum-Ra, in Hilomnos. This morning. I don’t know how I could have forgotten.”

  He chastised himself, wondering in brief horror if a pattern of such forgetfulness had played any part in his failure to prevent the catastrophe. He knew a lesser guard captain might’ve told themselves that the sort of morning they’d survived made details easier to forget, but he detested the thought of resembling that man.

  “Octavia’s youngest,” he explained. “She’d been sent away to Hilomnos just a few days ago. We need to–”

  His sudden hope tempered even as it rose. A coordinated attack could’ve devastated more than just Atum-Ra, he realized. Other cities across the realm might’ve suffered similar fates. But hope did not vanish from his heart, even as those possibilities and doubts warred with it.

  “What is it, sir?”

  “We need to find a telegraphy console,” he answered simply.

  But those words were infused once more with the resolve and purpose befitting Thut Tanhkmet, Captain of the Guard.

  "Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane."

  The Shawshank Redemption