The 'Trio' stood silent and listened to the mummufied gunman, each hardly moving. Lily gave a simple, brief nod when he had stopped speaking, but otherwise said nothing. Not even when said gunman started to shift and confort, did they react. They watched with impassionate eyes at the grotesque transformation of the one known as Marotte happened before them, Lily's eyes meeting those of Marotte without blinking.

"Is that supposed to impress me?" She said at length, arms crossed. Even Brucie, standing beside her, seem not in the least put off by the fleshy spectacle that had just occurred in front of them. She ignored the mockery of anatomy before her, instead looking off to the side, where moments later came the sound of something large walking closer. The hulking form reminiscent of a beetle appeared, appearing gentle even in spite of its immense size, and power were she to guess. Following him was the cloud of smoke that formed itself into a vaguely humanoid shape clad in a suit and looked to be smoking a cigar.

When he mentioned people not trusting them, 'Lily' smiled. "You're quite right," she said, and vanished, followed by both Brucie and Mouse disappearinging in a theatrical puff of smoke as well. Down on the ground, beside one of the larger boulders that still littered the ground, the white fur of Lily's tails suddenly stood in stark contrast to the background, having seemingly not been there moments before. She looked up at them, the smug smile on her lips lost over the distance. When next she said something, it came as a whisper in their minds directly. "I may trust the words of your master, but you I have never shared words with." The voice ceased, and down below the real Lily toyed with the end of her braid thoughtfully, garnering a curious glanced from Brucie and a yawn from the small dog. "I would appreciate it if you came to me, not the other way around. Cautious of homefield advantage, you understand."

She cut off the connection and returned the look Brucie had been given her.

"Isn't it a bit rude?" He asked her, scratching his neck beside the voicebox. "Pretending to meet them, then show that you didn't."

Lily shrugged and tossed her braid back over her shoulder. "Maybe, but as you could see, Marotte made quite the effort to trick and scare me." She looked up at him and proclaimed innocently, "Why, if I had been more jumpy I might have attacked him right then and there."

It was a strange thing to be on the receiving end of a glaring hammerhead shark. Primarily because each eye was nearly in her own peripheral were he to face her directly, so he had to tilt his head to one side, making just one eye be the one through which he communicated his thoughts on what she had said. "I've been with you long enough to know that's not the case," he told her, and they both knew it was true. "You were testing them to see if we could trust them."

She narrowed her eyes and held his gaze for a moment. "You're right," she said with a lopsided smile. "Am I rubbing off on you, or are you just becoming more perceptive all on your own?"

He shrugged and looked upwards the front gates again, perhaps wondering how long it would take them to come reach him and Lily. "Probably bit of both. Kinda have to think differently to even follow half of what you do. Not always sure where you even are."

"But isn't that the fun part?"

Brucie grunted, but didn't otherwise reply.

Evaporated like mist by the sunlight, perhaps, no eerie specters patrolled outside the building where Pithy, Dew, and the basilisk hunkered down for the night, but nevertheless something in its proximity had changed. In the middle of the street, an old-fashioned vendor’s wooden cart lay abandoned, its display cases and cushions all but empty. Only one bore any trace of what the mobile shop’s owner might have been selling: smack dab in the middle of the main shelf, without any sort of container or protection, stood a golden arrow pinning a piece of parchment to the pine.

That note bore lettering in an ugly, scratchy style, not so much childish as that of someone who had learned the language, then gone through life without ever caring to improve. Getting what you want just got a lot harder, it read. You got strong enemies, and the College may be the least of them. Your next opponent cut a deal with a real powerful bunch and is coming for you from city center. This can even the odds for you. After having to deal with that upstart Barnaby, it’s only fair you enjoy the same boon. Just stab it in, won’t be fatal. Don’t have to if you don’t want, but you’ll probably be wiped out otherwise. Good luck.

- a friend



An empty moment passed before the wounded man stirred with a sudden jolt. A violent cough wracked him as he heaved onto his side, sending spittle flying across his chin and cheeks. With panicked breathing, he writhed around, eyes rolling from side to side as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. Garbled words issued from him, barely discernable as questions like What happened? Where am I? What time is it? Confusion and agitation held Cyril firm, and more than anything he seemed to lack awareness. Feebly he attempted to pick himself up onto his hands and knees, but his limbs failed to support the weight of his body. After a moment of trying he slumped down onto his chest, head against the ground, and his eyes swept the horizon without focusing.



The entity known as Marotte tittered. “You fl͜a̷t͞t̶er ͝your͝self͡. Únli͟k̀e ͞our̛ ͢m̸a͜st̶er ͞I ̵do ǹot̨ s̷e͞èķ y͏o̢u͝r approv̀a̷l.̸” It made its fingers into a tent and from eyeless, crescent slits stared down at Lily over them and its hooked nose.

Nothing useful could be gleaned from the grotesque living mask of the jester as Lily disappeared, though Egon’s dispassionate gaze spoke for itself, and though I.O.’s round black eyes blinked a few times in succession he did appeared nonplussed. A few questions circulated unspoken among them: did this woman intend to play around with them, perhaps as an act of defiance to her master? Why did she follow her dismissal of what she took to be Marotte showing off with her own spectacle? Only a moment had passed in the new life of this fourfold companionship, but already Lily rubbed them the wrong way. Nevertheless, with their orders to support Lily holding firm, the denizens of Deadbeat Sky put aside the matter to proceed.

Their new acquaintance’s words infiltrated their minds, reaching them all at once, but out of the trio I.O. replied first, his answer sensible and concise. “Sure. Won’t find the enemy here, after all.” One at a time the three guardians began to move. They formed a single-file line with Egon taking the lead, Marotte prancing along behind him, and I.O. lumbering in the rear. Down the staircase they strode with purposeful haste, the titanic insect in particular taking a half-dozen steps with each of his paces, despite his rather diminutive legs.

As they approached, Lily’s unsuppressed conversation with Brucie carried to them over the empty, dead air of the great cavern. Marotte tilted its head in reply to her supposition that shapeshifting cost it any degree of effort, but he only ventured a response to its proclamation. "Ah, a͜ ̀f̀ellow̶ j̕ok̀est͠e̶r̶! ̵P͟erhap̕s͘ w̢e w̶ill gét̀ a͟loǹg."̕

A moment later the group approached Lily’s location, and in organized fashion they spread out to stand abreast, with the smaller guardians on either side of I.O. A moment passed before, after a puff of his cigar, Egon addressed her, “Since ya set the meetin’ time ‘n all, ya must be ready to head out.” The smoldering cinders of his inner eyes lay on the enormous hole in the distance, through which morning sun streamed through. “We’s good to go.”

As soon as the gentleness of stirring devolved into a panic of thrashing and hyperventilation, Runch regret his decision to let Cyril come to his senses by himself. The pirate rushed in to take hold of the man's arms in an effort to hold him still, hopefully to have a chance at calming Cyril down. Erina had much the same idea, and rushed in to grab the knight's ankles.

"Can you use your spirit magic to calm him?" Runch quickly asked.

Erina shook her head, no. "My domain is over the dead."

The captain's eyes widened for just a moment, then he rolled his shoulders and refocused on Cyril. "Let us hope it never need come to that. Sir Boniface? You are ok. Good sir knight, you are fine. Breathe easy, and know you are safe. You are among friends."

Dew frowned at the piece of paper Pithy had left in front of him. “Mind running through that again for me?”

The woman sighed. “I have left a few messages inside the building. One in a room on the fourth floor, pointing whoever finds it to the entrance. I have no doubt that they will find that one once they get to that floor.”

“Why was that?”

“I destroyed the handle to imitate a break-in, made it as noticeable as I could without tearing the door down.” She shrugged. “If whoever comes is observant enough to realize a whole drawer full of keys is missing, they may be suspicious of it, but I doubt they would ignore it.”

“...right. And the others?”

“There is one hidden at the entrance, demanding that whoever shows their phylactery must go to a bookstore down the street on their own, if they wish to find me. This paper,” she said, pointing at the one on the table with her good hand, “is here in case someone comes across this room. In any case, your role is simple. You merely need to find a place to keep watch over the front entrance—”

“—And make sure that whoever comes follows the demands in your letters.”

“Precisely. I trust you won’t fall asleep this time?”

Dew scratched his head, the frown never leaving his expression. “One more time, please.”

“I am starting to think you are mocking me, Dew,” she said with a reproachful look. She was likely growing exasperated with him, but he did not feel particularly sympathetic.

“I’m just trying to make sure I’m not hearing wrong. Why are your plans always so stupidly complicated? What’s the point of having them explore the building? Why not just start shooting the moment someone shows up?”

“After what I saw last night, I am not keen on killing the other competitors.” She sighed. “But that is not the reason, truly. Ever since Nero foiled my ambush on you when we first fought, I have had a suspicion that killing another competitor without a battle may somehow jeopardize the Crucible. Moreover, having them search the building buys me time to go to the bookstore and prepare.”

“Why not just start at the bookstore, then?”

“If I have you, my next opponent may have allies of their own. This gives us a chance to isolate the one person we care about. It also means I have to stay inside this building to lead them here. At least until they go in.”

“What if they’re alone? Wouldn’t it be better to keep them in the open where I can see them instead of sending them somewhere else?”

“Only if they do not have allies in hiding, which I would rather not assume. You should follow them to corner them in the bookstore if no one else appears, however.”

Dew rubbed his eyes, groaning. This was one of those moments where he couldn’t tell if the woman was smarter than most or simply prone to overthinking every little thing. “There are so many ways this can go wrong.”

Pithy nodded seriously. “It is good that you can tell. I would be shocked if this worked smoothly, in fact, so it is likely that you will have to do more than watch.”

He thought he knew where she was going. “So if they don’t go into the building, or ignore the warnings, you want me to kill them?”

Pithy paused. Then, heavily, she said, “If they do not have one of those flying machines with them, and they appear to be looking for us, yes. Otherwise, and this is important, Dew, shoot the machine first. It will keep them from finding me too quickly if they go off-script early. Whether they cross my wards when they enter the apartments, or I hear your gunfire, I will make for the store.”

Before he could open his mouth, Pithy preempted him. “Escaping should not be an issue. Even if someone is left guarding the entrance. I found a few back exits while I was exploring yesterday, and if all else fails, leaving through a window on the other side of the building should work fine.” She shook her head. “No, I’m reasonably certain I can leave without being noticed. If something goes wrong, however, as much as it scares me to say, you will have to use your best judgement. You may have to buy time to let me relocate, and then lead them to me.”

“I guess I can do that. What’s with that bookstore, though? Why do you want to go there?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, the white of her teeth flashing like a knife. “Let us say that, with any luck, I should have the advantage if a fight breaks out there.”

“So you want to fight alone? With one hand?”

“I’m as good with my left hand as I am with my right.”

“It’s still one arm.”

Pithy narrowed her eye and looked away in a way Dew did not at all like. “Let me worry about that.” The moment had gone as quickly as it had come, as Pithy returned her regard to him. “Nonetheless, you can keep Bonesword’s cutlass.” She nodded at the weapon, which had remained resting on the counter, forgotten since the previous day’s altercation with the snake. “I do not expect I will have much use for it.”

Dew grimaced and glanced away. He never thought he would feel bad over the prospect of free loot. “What about the plant snake?” he asked, in a last effort to mount some resistance to the sorceress's unreasonable reasoning.

The creature, which until then had been curled in on itself, lifted its head as it became the topic of the conversation.

Pithy tilted her head at it, then glanced at Dew. “Take it with you. It would make it harder for me to leave the building if I had to worry about it.”

“I’m more worried it might try to eat me again.” He grunted. “Fine.”

“One last thing.” Pithy said as she stood and began making her way to the windows. The first few rays of daylight had begun to make their way in from the outside.

“Yeah?” Dew answered, feeling compelled to stand and follow.

Pithy paused as she looked down. Following her gaze, Dew saw nothing untowards.

Indeed, all the clones that had appeared during the night seemed to have banished with the coming of sunrise. Dew snorted. He supposed he'd gotten lucky. The first time he had been told he would have to leave the building, he had asked about them. Maybe he should have expected it, but Pithy's answer had been a blank stare something to the effect of 'What about them?'

He didn't even know if he hated or respected that.

“Once you leave, don’t come back here until the enemy arrives or the sun is about to go down." Pithy said, bringing his attention back to the moment. "I won’t know who it is that is breaking my wards.”

"Yeah, yeah. I got it."

---

That had been less than an hour ago.

Dew sat near large windows now, looking out at the streets below with his sniper rifle resting on his lap. The front of the building where they had stayed the previous night was right before him, and the entrance was clearly visible from his perch. What was also visible, was a wooden cart that had not been there the night before.

Dew wondered what specifically had made him change his mind about Pithy. They had spent half of the previous day at each other’s throats, and if he was going to be honest now, he still did not like the woman one bit.

Still, after his blunder when laying a trap for Nero, he had begun to think that he may have jumped to conclusions about her and her reason for coming. He had expected to be chewed out when he called Pithy to him after falling asleep and missing Nero, but he had not expected her to start crying midway through it.

Dew let out an exasperated breath. “Shit. Maybe I’m just a mark for crying girls. I'm really hoping she mellows out if she gets what she wants." He frowned, already unconvinced. "Watch her turn around and try to conquer the world anyway if she wins.” He scowled, looking at the objects in his hands. “And now this. Shit.”

Dew held the prize the cart below had hidden, as well as the note that had come with it, in his hands.

It had taken him a moment to understand the handwriting, but what he could read had surprised him.

“The idea that the ice queen could have friends is unbelievable,” he said jokingly to his companion.

The nearby snake hissed a reply.

“Hm. Everyone’s a critic.”

There was no denying that the arrow he now held in his hands had been meant for Pithy. If it was like the one at the art gallery, the one Nero had told them about, it seemed like it would come with a new batch of powers for whoever stabbed themselves with it. However, she had expressly told him not to go looking for her after he left, so he could hardly run up to the building and hand it over.

He had picked it up—of course he wasn’t dumb enough to leave an obvious power-up lying around—but now he was left with the choice of what to do with it.

The idea of using it on himself was very attractive. And why not? If half the College staff had used one, there was no reason to think it would be a one-use item. And it was more than that. Every time Pithy had spoken, it had been clear to him that she was looking for any possible edge over the competition. If he was really going to help her win, any advantage would be welcome.

He nodded, satisfied by that reasoning as he turned the arrow in his hand. It certainly wasn’t like he was simply excited to get new superpowers or anything.

Letting out his breath in anticipation, he brought the arrowhead down on his bicep.

---

In the end, Pithy had chosen to wait for her next enemy, trusting that they would have to find their way to her if they wished to claim their wish. For that reason, she now stood in a small room on the fourth floor of the apartment building where she had stayed the night, only a few doors away from a room sporting a cracked frame and a largely missing handle. Boxes filled with garbage were pressed against the back of the room, and a chute covered by a shiny metal lid was visible on a nearby wall.

Regardless of her surroundings, Pithy was absorbed in other matters. A cold glow enveloped her bandaged hand. She had left it to Dew to wrap them for her, the task having proved somewhat cumbersome with a single hand, but rather than stopping at the wounds over her fingers, the man had continued onwards to mummify not only each individual finger, but the better part of her right forearm.

“It looks cooler this way,” he had told her by way of an excuse. Weary of quarreling with the fool, she had simply let him do as he wished.

Now, however, she had unfastened the bindings ever so slightly so she could see some of the pale skin as she laid down her preparations. As much as it pained to admit it, Dew had a point. The dead weight would only put her at a disadvantage.

She could not move the inert muscle. However, she could work with something else.

Even if she dreaded the idea that had occurred to her, it was a simple matter if she thought of of it logically. Her time was running out. She was not sure if her time in this new realm, or her exposure to these phylacteries had accelerated the rate of erosion, or if this was simply what had awaited her had she not taken the College's offer, but that did not matter now. She simply needed to last until she could make a wish, and any time beyond that was, simply enough, a commodity.

It just so happened, then, that commodities were meant to be traded.

Lily turned to face her three new companions, offering a wry smile at the fleshy shapeshifter, then took a few seconds to meet the gaze of all three of them in turn. Much as she would have liked to say that she already knew all of their names and what they had said, she had been too far away to accurately read the lips of them, and had only truly understood that the fleshy monstrousity's name was Marotte. She could give educated guesses as to the identities of the other two: Big, covered in chitin, and a lumbering behemoth. He matched the descriptions of the one called I.O, that Carreau had given her the day before. The Cigar-smoking one she knew was Egon, the pyromancer that had been promised her. Long range fighting, and destructive power that she did not possess. She had briefly been introduced to him by Carreau, when first she entered the castle.

She studied each for another moment, letting the silence reign for long enough that Brucie started fidgeting. Not that it said much, as he seemed eager to constantly be doing something, even if it was just eating.

"I believe I owe an... Apology, of sorts," she started slowly, still glancing between them and occasionally shooting a bemused glanced at the raven-borne castle, and looked more and more impatient ever time she did. "I am not quite able to read lips well from this far away, and only on humanoid mouthes," she nodded towards the giant beetle, "so I did not quite catch all of your names, would you mind introducing yourselves again? I am Lily, as I expected you know, and this is Brucie, and finally Mouse." She pointed at first herself, then motioned towards them, and finally her two companions.

The lumbering giant seemed to right himself at her request. No expression showed on him except a slow blink, as he said "I am Immovable Object, but I.O works."

The fleshy being tilted his – its? – head, the garbled voice uttering a single word; "Ma̧͜ro͟͞t͘͞ţ͠e̡." it said.

Lily turned to the last of the three. "And you I already know. You're Egon, we met yesterday." Egon gave a shallow nod and puffed his cigar, and Lily wasn't quite sure how, but he somehow made the very action of doing so look thick with impatience, and probably a healthy dose of annoyance as well.

The warbled sound of Brucie clearing his throat interrupt further talk, everyone turning their attention to him. Even the dog. "What of the bird-man?"

The question prompted Lily to once more look towards the castle, her glance this time becoming more of a glare. This talk of trust and promises, was it really just for show? She made an effort to ease the creases on her brow. Getting angry with Carreau would solve nothing. "He promised he would be here, so I... trust he will be. Who knows, he probably already is."

"That looked hard for you."

"What do you mean, Brucie?" She asked.

Brucie gave what, to him, was a chuckle. "Not thinking the worst of someone." To his credit, Brucie did actually back away when Lily growled at him, but it didn't make him any less amused.

She tore her gaze from Brucie. "Anyway!" She exclaimed, once more giving her tentative allies her attention. "To address what you said earlier, Marotte. Yes, I am a jokester. Or more precisely, a Trickster. I already know the basics of what you three are capable of doing, but you don't know what I can do." She paused, scratching her cheek awkwardly. Though Brucie might have joked, he had been annoyingly right.

"Fire, lightning... Makes people see things," Brucie prompted, counting each item on one of his metallic fingers. She raised on tail and slapped it against his voice-box, earning a puzzled look.

"It's easier if I explain," she muttered and made as if to physically wipe away her exasperation and awkwardness from her face. "As Brucie said, I can conjure both fire and electricity, as well as short range, blasts of force. But they're not my specialty so my destructive power is nothing spectacular. My forté is trickery and illusions, both visual, audible, tactile, and so on." She took a step back to lean up against the boulders she and Brucie had been hiding in during the night. "That is why I specifically requested you three. I.O, your size and defensive power makes up for my own relative fragility. Coupled with your physical strength, you can tackle things head on that would crush me." She aimed a tail at Marotte. "You, as I understand it, is specialised in going unseen, and striking from the shadows. While I can do that myself, I have a somewhat–" she ran her fingers through the hairs of one tail "–striking figure. I can't yet hide them, which makes me easier to see when one the move, than someone whose focus is walking in shadows."

Finally she directed her attention towards Egon, their resident flamethrower, if Carreau was to be believed. "And finally, you have range and power, using both fire and ash if I'm not mistaken."

"She was right, much better explanation than me. Did you know, Mouse?"

Lily continued. "The tournament is in its final stages, and my next one is a semi final match, and I chose you specifically to make sure I have the greatest chances of winning. My ideal scenario, is that Marotte scouts ahead unseen and brings back any information he can get. This way we would avoid any surprises. The drone that's been buzzing since before I woke up, is pointing in the direction of my next opponent, so we'll always know the general direction. Not the distance, however. When it comes to fighting, I will do my part to distract and confuse, even make them piss their pants in fear if need be. I.O, your role will ideally be as a frontliner, either protecting the rest of us, while trying to catch my opponent, and break down any obstacles they put in our path. Egon, I would like your role to be similar to I.O's: Break down obstacles, but from afar, using your magic. Also capture if you can, and generally provide backup. Most importantly, however, and I can't stress this enough, do not kill my opponent. There is no guarantee that my phylactery will get the soul if you do, so restrain them, weaken them, but for the love of Ikari, don't kill my opponents. Not even their allies." She stopped, expelling air through her nose, and looking from one to the other.

"If you have any questions, do ask. But before that, I do have one question for you." She pulled the golden-brass orb from Brucie's bag and tossed it casually towards Egon. "Do any of you know what this is?"

Instantly an incredible pain blossomed in Dew's wound, as one might expect, but what came next he could not have anticipated. Every nerve in his body surged with heat and light, causing him to convulse in shock and forget about the blood gushing from his arm. Without any force behind it, the arrowhead sunk deeper, driving itself through flesh, muscle, and finally the humerus, almost bisecting the bone as it burrowed by.

Even before that, however, the agony had melted into a different sensation—one of profound wrongness. Were Dew as knowledgeable about real life weapons and military affairs as he were with virtual ones, he might be aware of the subjects of military equipment tests centered around giant microwave emitters for crowd control. They did not burst into flames, start glowing, or give rise to any visible effect, but the waves washing over them scrambled something inside. Never did the tests last long enough to see what happened next, since try as they might subjects could never stop their bodies from moving out of the waves as soon as they felt them. Restraining subjects for the purpose of determining the effects lasting microwave exposure, meanwhile, stood as cruelly inhumane.

In this moment, however, Dew might understand how people in such a scenario might feel. Every ounce of him squirmed, wanting to retreat from or annihilate itself, even though when he looked at his skin nothing appeared to be wrong. His vision flashed, pitch black and blinding gold, a pressure building in his left eye. It compounded every second, growing stronger and stronger as the arrowhead pushed out the other side of his bicep, until the feathers on the shaft's other end passed through and the arrow was in him no longer. The moment the arrow hit the ground, his eye exploded.

He could hear and feel the fluid blasting from the socket, even if by some merciful twist of fate he could not feel the pain. It splashed against the wall, on the floor, and covered his clothes. A whirling tumult of unidentifiable sensation had gripped his mind, squelching and kneading his brain. The world spun, and he dropped to the ground in a final spurt of viscera.

Then he blinked.

His mind: clear. No pain, no wrongness, no pressure, no confusion. A moment passed before Dew got a hold of himself. Bolting upright from the floor, he looked about in panic. His body, his clothes, the floor...nothing whatsoever seemed amiss. The arrow on the ground, clean as its surroundings, innocuous as a dropped penny. The only trace of anything strange occurring could be found on his bicep: an inch-long scar, long healed over. That, of course, and something weird with his left eye; it took more effort on his part to keep it open.

If he happened upon a mirror, however, he would find something else, something extraordinary, unprecedented, and very much amiss. His left eye, though just as functional as before, was now in its entirety a rich, oily black, and where the iris and pupil once were there appeared to be a two-dimensional golden coin emblazoned with a skull.



Restrained by the pirate and his fox-eared comrade, Cyril's thrashing died down quickly. While he might have possessed the strength to throw one or both off before, he was already almost wheezing from the effort of token resistance, and in a moment his struggling ceased. The knight's breathing slowed, growing less labored and more regular, as he stared at the far-off highrises against the early sky. His eyes gradually adjusted, though their glaze did not fade completely.

Even so, some time passed before betrayed any figment of conscious action. His muscles finally relaxed, and after another few seconds, he met Runch's gaze. Though awake for the moment, he remained weak, his tenuous grip on consciousness poised to loosen at any moment. Speaking took a disproportionate effort, but speak he did.

“Uggghhh...thah feeling. So sharp i's ma' me focus. Bih...bitter failure.” Cyril ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth as if to chase away its numbness. “Shou...shoulda know ya wouldn' let...me die.” His eyes drifted closed again, his face creasing into a angry frown, though not one directed at Runch. “I...I saw. En'less dark...millions of...of lights.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his neck's muscles began to go slack. “They wanned...me.” Before he could say more, his head lolled to the side, and Cyril was unconscious once more.



The moment Lily said 'anyway' the trio was roused to alertness, extending their attention to the kitsune in turn. They listened to Brucie as he made mention of his companion's abilities, with Marotte in particular taking note of the way Lily acted in response to him. Though he shark did not say anything that Lily failed to repeat in greater detail a moment later, he did tell the perceptive jester something in particular that could be useful later on.

Either way, the monsters' temporary captain proceeded to reveal her own abilities, then to size them up, summarizing their specialties as best she knew. Out of all of them, only I.O. acknowledged her description with an affirming nod. Their focus did not waver as she launched into a final explanation of the tournament's current state, noting that the metal machine, newly repaired by Serval, would serve as a guide to their next encounter. Lily's battle plan received their collective approval, made known through a series of nods at its conclusion. I.O., however, reached up to scratch his little head after being confronted with her policy on killing. “Hm. I see. My control is not the best, so I will focus on defense,” he declared.

The others kept their silence, thinking about Lily and her plan. Neither Egon nor Marotte believed that she shared her full capabilities given her distrustful attitude, status as a self-proclaimed trickster, and a certain shred of information picked up by an informant last night. However, they could work well enough with what she did say, so neither planned on complaining. When Lily offered the cinderghast an intricate miniature globe, he took it and held it up with one hand. “Appraise Item,” he growled, and the object gave a brief orange flash. A moment later, he tossed it up to levitate a few feet in the air, saying, “Sophisticated mapping device, likely for the city. Nonmagical. Should be able to project the map.” Putting his ash-gray hands together, he pantomimed opening some complex mechanism, and the orb twitched violently. After a few seconds a click issue from it, and all across its surface lines shone bright green. A large, three-dimensional projection of the City Echoes formed a moment later, made seemingly from light itself. The entire cityscape appeared, though only the surface; a brilliant singularity, probably meant to represent the globe itself, hung in unmarked space beneath the thickest, tallest section of the metropolis.

Marotte peered at the holographic assemblage of skyscrapers with unmasked curiosity. "͞Wh̴at ̶a ̡fu̶n̛ lit̕t̀l͠e͟ ͜toy̵. Usef͡u͡l ͝t͡o̴o, evȩn͢ ̧i̷f it͠ ͢show҉s only ͏ou͝r̛ p͜os̡itíon͢." He turned the eyeless slits in his false face across the rocky barrens and distant fungal forest, where morning sunlight streamed down through the enormous hole by through which Deadbeat Sky had come. “I͘f ͟al̶l i͡s ͢s̀or̵te̴d ͞oùt, and ͏w̡e̵ ̸ha͟ve҉ our̶ goal,͞ w̕e͜ c͘an d͠ep̀árt ̴for̶ ͜th̀e͟ ̨s͜u͏rface̵.̡”̢ Reaching over, he tapped I.O.'s enormous armored gauntlet, more for the noise than the utterly insignificant impact of his finger. "You̶'͞ll͠ ̴f̛ly u̕s̸,̧ ýes? I̡f ̢n͡ot҉, ̸i͠t̨'s a̢ r̶athe͡ŕ d͝àu̧nt͢i̧ng͞ climb." In response the giant gave an emphatic nod, eager to be of service. The great shield on his back, it seemed, was in fact an immense wing-case, fittingly beetle-like. It beggared belief that a creature so huge, heavy, and unwieldy could take to the skies, but I.O. appeared nothing if not confident in his ability to provide for his allies.

“Good morning!” A sudden and familiar voice boomed. The squad turned to see a streak of gray headed their direction, swooping down toward the cavern floor from a room high atop the birdback cathedral. Carreau spread his wings to slow his descend as he approached, coming to a stop a few meters off the ground near his formidable insect companion. His crested helmet masked his fluffy feathers and golden eyes, but since he needed to turn his whole head to look, all present could see him cycling his attention between them. “So! It looks like you've all made your introductions. Good morning to you in particular, Marotte. Your tireless efforts exploring the city have been invaluable, and I'm glad no ill fortune confronted you in your travels.” He clapped his gloved hands together. “This here is a killer team. I will look forward to seeing you all in action.” Were his helmet not on, Lily might have seen the wink directed at her. “Not killing, of course, hahah.” After that, he seemed to have nothing else to say, so an awkward pause hung in the still cavern air alongside him.

Had Lily been more polite, she might not have stared at Carreau as he arrived. As it was, her eyes traced him as he approached, and studied him even through his attempts at humour.

"So you did show up," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching. With a glint in her eyes, she added, "Turns I can trust you after all, if only a little." She pointed to the orb still held in Egon's hand, the map hovering above it. "The small bead of light is our position, and this–" she dragged a nail through the projection, in the direction the drone was facing, stopping once she held her finger over an area of closely set building "–is most likely where my next opponent is. It's closely packed, with lots of places to hide. An ideal place for a trickster like me, but also for marksmen, assassins, sorcerers and the like." She took the orb from Egon's hands, giving him a nod of thanks and held it aloft herself, squinting at the map.

"What about the rest of the way?" Brucie asked, leaning over her shoulder and poked the image himself. "Shouldn't we also check that?"

Lily nodded, and added a small image of a green circle over the area she had previously pointed out. "This is where I expect my opponent to be, but we should still check other places." An elongated shape of green light, going from roughly where the hole in the ground was, to the circle. "Here too. I would like to know how exactly you plan on scouting ahead, Marotte, and how your abilities to remain unseen works. But for now, we should head out. You can tell me on the way." She looked up, meeting the dark eyes of the giant beetle. "I hope you can carry us," she said with a half-smile. "Let's go."

One thing that Lily had enjoyed since she was very young was speed, and the feeling of the wind in her hair. When she had been just a girl, the feeling had just been her then shorter hair pulled back as she ran, be it from angry shopkeepers or random passer-by's whose wallets she had liberated. Nowadays not only was her hair significantly longer, but the fur of her tails only heightened the feeling.

As such it was not an entirely unpleasant trip as she and her companions, reluctant though some of them were she imagined, flew aboard I.O towards the hole in the ground, and back up through and into the sun. Having been in near total darkness for well over a day, the sudden influx of morning light stung her eyes, causing her to wince, and she imagined the others did much the same. Carreau especially, given his avian nature.

She hissed against the sharp light, shielding her eyes with her hand and averting her eyes as much as possible.

"H̵aviǹg͜ tro҉ub͢le ̛ẃi̵ţh thé ͜li̷gh̢t͝,͡ ͝O̡'͡ l҉ea̴d͘er̶?" Came Marrote's mocking question, earning him–it?–a flat stare.

Rather than replying, she pulled out the orb she had taken from her latest opponent, twisting it the way Egon had shown her, and conjured the map once again. She watched the one dot that represented their location, occasionally looking out at their surroundings, scanning for a good place to land. She idly ran her tongue along her teeth, taking one last look at the holographic map before twisting it and making the map disappear, then turned once more to Marotte, the flesh-thing that made up their rogue returning her look with an inscrutable one of her own.

"Before we land, I want to know how you intend to go unseen," she said.

Marotte nodded, lip-less mouth twisting in a smile. "Are͝ ͘y͜ou fa͡mili͡ar̕ w̛it͞h ͡cutţlęf͢i͟sh͠? Small,̨ ̀s͞quid-́l̸ik̀e͡ a̢ni̷m̛a̡ls."̷ ̶L̨iĺy̵ ͘nơd̡d͝ed̕.͏ ̧"҉M͞y҉ sk͟i͠n̢ ͘ís͟ ͟lìḱe̡ ͟theirs̵.̸ ͘It ͠c͞a̴n ́ch̶a̴n̢g͞e͏ ̕c̸o͘lour ̵ins͟tantly,͏ ͠ma҉ki͟ng̶ m̶e͠ al̨m҉o҉śt ̴i͟n͏vi̡şiblè.͠" His entire body suddenly turned metallic green, the exact shade of I.O's own carapace, and had Lily not been this close and known he was there, she was certain even she would have had difficulty spotting him.

"Impressive," she said and meant it. "Anything else?"

The Flesh-Jester seemed to shrug, or at least made a movement reminiscent of it. "K̴ńi͟v̸e͏s̴: Thr̕owing, stabb҉i̛n̕g̛, şl͠ic̵ing, th̕e ̵wo͠r̸k̡s.̸ I am to̧l͢d Ì a͘m ҉lįk̡e ́y͝ou͡,͢ ̷o̸n͝l͜ỳ st̶r͟o͞ng͡ inśt͞e͡ad ̕of fas̴t. ̛An̵d͡ ̛l̕ike̷ ͏y͘ou͝ ͘sa͡w̸ ͝e͢arĺíe͘r, I ͘can ch̀ang҉ȩ t̕o҉ ̴l͞ook͠ l̡i͟k͝e͞ ͡wha̸t ͟I̶ wan̷t."

She made a mental note of it all, even the insinuation that was his relative fragility. She hadn't pretended to be superhumanly durable herself, and has hinted that she was indeed no more hardy than a human–if in the upper ends of human durability–and now Marotte was saying he was about as tough as she. It made things easier, then, knowing she could likely kill him instantly should the need ever arise. She pushed the thought away for another time, instead throwing her thoughts toward figuring out how best to use Marotte's abilities. She had already been given the overview of the others' abilities and skillsets, and so had a general idea of what they were capable of.

"We're getting close," Brucie said, pointing towards a cross section of streets they had decided upon earlier. He glanced up at the drone that had been following since they left, and it still pointed forward in the direction they were going. Their landing point was roughly halfway between where Lily expected her next opponent to reside, and so far her theory seemed to hold tight.

Lily returned to orb to her tails, hiding it among their number. "Land over there," she called out to I.O, reaching over his shoulder and pointing to where Brucie had indicated. She received an affirmative rumble as reply, feeling the giant stag beetle changing starting his descent. To Marotte she said, "when we land, I want you to do two things. First, is shift into something like a bird, at least for your heart. A crow, preferably, and secondly I want you to scout ahe–"

"G̡o̶ţt͘a͘ ́stop̨ yǫu r͟ight̛ t͏h̶ȩre, ͜f͠o̡xy̴," he said, holding up a hand, ignoring Lily's frosty look at the nickname. "Į ̴ca̡n͜ ́c̶ha̡n҉ge̷ m̛y appearan̴ce͝, bu̷t I̕ ̵c͘aǹ't d̴o҉ a҉ t̨h̀i͘n͠g͜ ̢ab҉out͟ m̵y ̶i̴nsi͠d̕es͟.͟ ̡Şo͢ ̕i̡f y̨o͏u̧ ̕had̀ ͟anyt҉ḩíng i͢n m͠in̡d̷ wh͝en͟ ͞a̢skįn͢ģ ̨me ͝t͟o̸ ̛b̧ec͡o̸m̛e̴ ̶a͟ b͡irdbrai̛n,̛ g̢ot̕t͢a ̀dís͟ąpp̨o̴i͘n̡t̷ y͞ou.̧"

I.O landed and Lily crawled off, followed by Brucie holding Mouse in his arms, then the rest of their entourage. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Lily threw up an illusory dome around them, making them appear invisible for anyone farther than a few steps away.

"You mean that you're a skinchanger, not a shapeshifter?" Lily pressed, suddenly much less impressed with this portion of Marotte's capabilities.

"I͘n̸deed," he said, nodding once.

She sighed, putting a hand to her head. So much for the idea of using birdcalls to give signals to one another. Primitive though it might be, it would have been effective and difficult to see through. "Do you have anything you could give signals with from a distance?" She asked.

Fleshy and hairless brows furrowed on Marotte's face, the mimicry of facial features turning thoughtful. Enough seconds passed that Lily was close to demand an answer, but before she could he pulled a long knife from somewhere Lily regretted witnessing. "Wíll ̧t͢h͠is ͘d̶ò?͡" He asked, holding the knife up so that it caught the early morning sunlight.

"Using it as a mirror," Lily said, thinking aloud. "I suppose it'll work. There's no guarantee that the morse code between our worlds is identical, so we'd better figure out some simple signals. First, however," she brought the orb back out and conjured the map once more, again marking the area where she suspected her opponent would be with a red circle, and the distance between it and them in a yellow oblong. "The yellow is the area we'll go through, but not in one go. I want to do it piece by piece, going from building to building." Several black dots appeared in the yellow area, each roughly a block apart, and leading from their position to the red circle. "From where we are now, and to the first black dot, I want you to scout ahead, invisible as you can be, and check out the next spot."

"A̢n̕d͏ ̀th̷en?͏"

Lily nodded towards the knife he held in his hands. "Then you give us a signal. Two blinks if it's empty, and we are clear to move forward, three if you hear or see anything living. Four if you see someone with a drone. The last one is unlikely to come as a surprise given my drone will be pointing to my opponent, but better safe than sorry. Any questions?"

"Primitive."

Lily snorted, looking over at Egon. "You have a problem?"

The spectre rolled his cigar from one side of the mouth to the other, unperturbed by Lily's glare. "No. Just pointing out the obvious," he said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "But since you did ask, I do have an inquiry: How do you expect a group this large to go unnoticed, even if our dear Shoggoth scouts ahead?" He glanced at the map and the accompanying illusions courtesy of Lily. "And some of these 'dots' aren't even in view of each other. How is Marotte supposed to give us signals with reflecting light on a dagger, with half a building between us?" A handful of ashen-coloured fingers appeared over the holographic map, pointing to three dots, each located where a building was between it and the next one.

Those were an issue, Lily had to admit, but there were no other routes she could plan out, that wouldn't lead them into more blind angles like those. She could create the illusion of a whistle, but it wouldn't make any tangible sound, only to the person using it as they expected it–or if she could see them blow it and amplify the illusion further–but she had no means of creating anything to give signals while out of line of sight.

The ashen fingers still pointing at the map caught her attention then. She flicked one ear, lips pursing. "You can make things out of ash," she said, looking back up at the spectre. "Could you make a whistle? One designed to mimic the sound of a bird's call? Like a crow?"

Egon chewed on his cigar, eyeing her for several long moments, each tick of the proverbial clock until he answered only making Lily's jaw clench the more. "They won't be very durable," he said at length, "but aye, I can. Will probably have to renew them, as Marotte's spit will wear it down, but I can do it."

Lily nodded. "Good." She looked to the others, from I.O to Carreau, then to Brucie and to Marotte. All shook their heads. "Egon, make two whistles, give one to Marotte, then let's go."

---

It had been half an hour since they had entered the 'red zone' on the map, as Lily had begun to call it, and at least two hours since they had landed, making it now the early afternoon. The drone had been pointing them towards the western edge of the zone, towards an area that was comprised primarily of apartment complexes; buildings with more than enough places to hide. There were also a number of smaller buildings, likely stores of various kind in the vicinity.

Beyond this area the number of buildings thinned out considerably, giving way to more open spaces and less hiding spots. That fact alone made Lily certain that her next opponent was close. She need only find them, and then end it quickly. She had to be prepared for anything, be it a monster like earlier, an individual of superhuman martial prowess, a mage or sorcerer, or even a mecha. She didn't want to rule anything out. Whoever they were, they would be of considerable power, possibly with allies like herself. Their array of skills and abilities were also likely to encompass more than one person could feasibly be capable of.

"Carreau," she whispered, keeping her eyes trained on where she knew Marotte's next destination was–a building with very few windows facing their way, so they had decided to use the bird's call whistle, "you strike me as the more powerful of your group. Do you have measures to counteract magic?"

"No," he said, just as Egon let out an annoyed grunt, "that would be our Pyromancer's area of expertise. As you told me, you desired someone with utility and power, and Mr. Baratta is he."

"Very well." She looked over her shoulder, parting her tails to look at Egon. "What can you do against magic?"

Pulling out his cigar, Egon blew out a cloud of smoke and ash, and much as Lily wanted to believe it was a coincidence, she suspected he made sure it flew in her face quite deliberately. "I can sense it if I want to, s'long as it's not deliberately hidden by more powerful spells. But I'm no good at dispelling. My forté is fire and ash, not utility. If you're worried about simple magics, I can find them for you. Anything of higher levels..." he shrugged and left it at that, the meaning clear.

"So we don't have a lot of countermeasures against a sorcerer. Great. We should just hope we don't meet one then." Just then, the cry of a crow sounded faintly from the next block over, picked up only by Lily and Carreau, judging by him turning his head toward it as well. Two cries, then three.

"There's someone there, let–" Two more cries from Marotte's whistle, making Lily blink. "Two more. So there's someone there, and there is not?" She cursed her own lack of foresight, giving only three different signals came back to bite her in the tails, and meant they now had to figure out what it was Marotte meant, and quickly. There was the option that someone or something living _had_ been spotted, but had left almost immediately, but for what reason she couldn't know. Perhaps Marotte had been attacked and were blowing in a panic, but she doubted that–the skin-changer was better at stealth than even Lily was, at least when on the move. She bit a nail, teeth clenching around it as thoughts raced through her head. She was so busy running through scenario after scenario that she almost missed what I.O said.

"Perhaps it is literal?" He suggested, looking down at her and blinking slowly. "You said two blinks if it is empty, and we can move forward, but three if he saw or heard anything living."

Beside him, Brucie nodded while petting Mouse. "He's right, Boss. What if the room is empty and we can move forward, but he saw something? Might be he wanna warn us that he's seen somethin', but nothing that falls into the parmi... parema... falls into the options you gave him?"

Lily looked from one to the other, quirking her head to the side. "It makes sense," she said and looked back in the direction of the call. She withdrew the ash-whistle Egon had made for her, and blew it once, signalling they were on their way. "You know the drill, don't come all at once, and use different routes. I'll go first."

---

A quarter of an hour later and they were all gathered in the foyer of the next building, a hotel it turned out. When the last of them had entered Lily threw up a still image of the foyer in front of the doors, making them essentially invisible to any who looked through the sliding doors.

She turned to Marotte who was leaning up against a door leading further into the building. "So? Why did you blow five times, of all things."

"Whaţ ͢el͏se ̧was ̧I ͏s̡u͞p͠pos̵ȩ to do?͞" He asked, throwing up his hands in a defeated gesture. "Y͞ou ͢di͜d́n'̕t̕ g͝i̧v͏e̢ ̢m̸e ͠a̶n̕y ̛sig͏na̶l ̢f͢or͘ ͏[̢i]'I c͘a̶n͜ see͘ a͝ ͡l͠i͜g͞ht ơn!̨'҉[͢/̸ì]҉ ̴So I͡ i͝mpro̵vi͘séd.͠"

So he had seen a light on somewhere. It seemed I.O and Brucie had been remarkably close to the truth then. Signs of someone or something living, but not seeing anyone definitively. "Where?" She demanded, to which he opened the door he was leaning up against and headed down the hallway that followed. "Egon, follow me. The rest of you, stay here." She then turned to follow Marotte, her ears swivelling about for any signs of life. She was close to her next opponent, she could feel it. What's more... She had gotten so used to it that she had started ignoring it, but the drone still followed her and was now pointing forward and to her right. She was definitely getting closer.

A few minutes passed with Marotte leading them through small hallways and rooms, most dedicated to storage or washing, even a kitchen at one point. Their miniature tour of the innards of a hotel came to an abrupt stop when Marotte lead them to an iron door labelled "Fire Exit", and stopped with one hand on the door.

"The͘r̶e͘ ̛a͞r̛e ͘no ͡win̸d́ows ͠h͜ere,̀ bu͞t I̕ ́f͠ig͟u̸red͢ įt͟ ̀best͡ to st̵áy ͝n͟ear ̨to͡ the͏ ̀gro̕u̶nd ͡a̛nd̀ ̀l̵o͢ok͡ ͘u͘p͟.͡ W͞ould ̛b͏e͏ t͞oo ̷e͏as͟y̸ to̕ b̀e ̨spot͟t̸e̴d ̡i̡n t̸he͟ ͏wi̧n̛dow̸s I͏ th͡ìnk.͝"

Lily was forced to agree. This place was rife with hiding places, the rooms in all of the buildings being perfect places to hide. She would be surprised to see anyone on the street, and would herself keep more of an eye out on the windows of buildings near her. She nodded, and he opened the door just enough to look out.

"Wait," she said, then gestured with a hand and had the outside of the door shimmer briefly, creating a bubble around the door. She didn't know what the facade looked like, so dared only create one of the door, using the inside of it to reflect the outside, making it look like just a closed door. She nodded to Marotte and they pushed the door open.

Marotte silently waved Lily closed and stock his head out, and she did much the same. "T̷h̡er̴e," he said pointing down the street to their right and towards a large apartment block several stories tall. "F͞oúrth ̷f͘lo̵or̸," he elaborated.

Lily followed his finger, narrowing her eyes as she roved the entire facade of the building around the fourth floor. It took her a few moments, but she finally saw it. A light bulb in one of the windows. So far she had seen no signs of life in this place. No lights were turned on anywhere that she had seen so far, but here there was one. She couldn't see anything beyond the lightbulb in the ceiling from where they were, but it was enough. She glanced over her shoulder at the drone still hovering there, whirring away. It confirmed the suspicion that was beginning to form: Her next opponent was in that building, the drone pointing straight towards it proved as much.

"Egon," she said and stepped away from the door, turning to him. "To the right, about a hundred or so metres, there's an apartment block with a light on, fourth window from the left on the fourth floor. You said you can detect magic, tell me if there's anything you can sense there."

Egon took the cigar out of his mouth, blowing out smoke and tapping remnants of tobacco and ash from it. "No can do," he told her. "Hundred metres is too far. You'll have to get me closer if you want to use me as a hunting dog. Ain't gonna go fetch for you, like that other mutt."

Lily gave him a flat look, making her lack amusement quite well known without words. A few sparks jumped between her fingers. "Fine," she said, "let's head back to the others."

Egon smirked around his cigar but remained silent and followed, as did Marotte after closing the door. Lily then dispelled the illusion outside it.

A few moments later when they were all back, Lily called out for them to gather, and she directed them into what had been a kitchen in the hotel, wanting to be out of sight entirely, so she didn't need to keep the illusion in front of the sliding doors up.

"So," said Carreau once they were all gathered in the kitchen, Brucie–with Mouse still in this arms–and Marotte having taken seats on the tables while the rest stood, "what is your decision? Have we found our next quarry?"

"I think so," she said crossing her arms. "Behind the hotel, a little less than a hundred metres to the right, there is an apartment building with a light on in a room on the fourth floor. I haven't seen any lights turned on since I arrived in this place, nor any signs of life except a bakery full of bread and pastries. This is a first, and I suspect either a trap, or someone got sloppy. Judging by the fact that the drone–" she pointed to it, hovering nearby "–was, and is, pointing directly at the same building, it's definitely there."

"And your plan?" Egon pressed, sniffing and puffing his cigar so that his moustache twitched.

"I want to find out who, or what, I'm dealing with first," she told him, then pointed a tail at both Egon and Marotte. "I want you two to go ahead. Marotte can turn as good as invisible already, and you told me you create your own bodies out of ash, and is otherwise actually invisible. Go into the building, remain unseen, and sniff out the location of my next opponent, and any magical defences should there be any. The last part is your job in particular, Egon."

"Hope you don't mind a pile of ash right here on the floor then," he replied, but otherwise made no comment.

"W̢h͢at̨ ̴d͜ơ w̢e ̶do̸ i̛f͡, ̡or͘ w̡he̢ǹ,͞ ̡we ̸f̢in̵d ͡a͝nyt̷hi͟ng̛?"

Lily looked at Marotte, the skinchanger currently scratching Mouse behind one ear while looking back at her. "It depends on what you find. If Egon senses any magical traps, I want you to dismantle them if you can, the stealthier the better, and if you can't then avoid them. If the entire building is encased in magical defences, and there's no way to get in, then just come back here, and we'll figure something else out."

"And if they find your next opponent?" Brucie asked.

"Then figure out whatever you can about them, but don't engage. If you have the chance, but only if you can do so and get away with absolute certainty, steal their phylactery and bring it to me. You know what it looks like. If you do end up in a confrontation, or something goes wrong, create an explosion, Egon, so we know. Other than that, use your best judgement. I trust you... To an extent, at least."

"How flattering," Egon drawled, eliciting a chuckle from Marotte.

"Don't get used to it," Lily said, her tone clipped. "Everyone to the backdoor. I'll create an illusion like before, should allow you to get out without anyone seeing the door open."

"Let's go then," Egon said and promptly dissolved, his body turning into a pile of ash on the floor. Whether it was because of Lily's expression, or the simple act of Egon becoming a pile of ash, it nonetheless left Carreau chuckling.

Lily clenched her jaw, and said nothing, leading them to the door. She gestured, and ensured the others that the illusion was in place, then carefully pushed the door open and let Marotte and Spirit-Egon out, and then closed it again.

Now, all that was left to do was wait. Wait until they either came back, with or without the phylactery, or all hell broke loose and they had to fight.

Cold sweat dribbled down Pithy’s brow as she tightened the bandages on her right arm. Once she was satisfied with the tightness, she held the bandaged limb out towards the room’s door. Ice began to coat the lock and hinges, sticking them in place.

She let out a slow breath at that, hugging the inert limb close to herself. She could hardly feel anything below the elbow now, but the waves of cold easily swept past the covers where she touched them.

Not my finest work, but it will do for what lies ahead, she thought with forced dismissiveness. It was far too late for regrets at that point.

She leaned back against the wall, letting herself sink down to a sitting position. All that was left was to wait.

As she had told Dew earlier, she had sprinkled the inside of the building with a number of detection wards. A very simple and inconspicuous cantrip, a variation of which she often used to keep herself aware of her surroundings when resting in unfamiliar places. She had left the wards at various thresholds, such as entrances, emergency exits, stairs, elevator doors, and more specifically, the doors to the two rooms where she had left instructions for the enemy she awaited. They were not disguised—given her condition, attempts at doing so would only have made them more obvious—but they were unassuming enough that she doubted they would be sniffed out unless an intruder was well-versed in the arcane, and was actively searching for them.

That said, that it was not a certainty was something she was deeply aware of. Aside from the few clues she had left to guide intruders, like the lights left on at the apartment and the smashed lock for that room’s door, those wards could well become a second trail for someone to follow. Fortunately, that it would grab the attention of any who found them could be of use to her. For that reason she had not placed any magical wards at the entrance to her hiding place. If someone crossed them or attempted to tamper with them, she would know. Unless they preferred to wander aimlessly through the building until they happened to land upon her, they would have to.

She planned to use this to her advantage to keep track of intruders until she felt it a good time to use her escape route. Namely, the metal chute to the basement placed in the room she had chosen. It would not normally have been an option, given that the opening was not large enough to fit a grown human—or elf, for that matter—but the black and green bracelet fastened to her left wrist gave her some flexibility in that regard.

Pithy nodded to herself. If all went according to plan, she would be able to shape the next altercation to her needs. For that, she would need to be watchful. Both of the state of her wards, and of sudden noises like the thunder of Dew’s weapon in the distance.

---

Dew was going to be angry if all he had gotten was a cosmetic reward. There was a reason people had gone up in arms against lootboxes when they caught on to how disgusting a monetization system it actually was. The power lottery couldn’t be much better if it also came with extreme pain and vivid hallucinations at every pull.

Though what kind of whale demographic that could attract he was not sure he wanted to know.

Once Dew managed to shake himself out of his stupor and he caught his reflection in the window, it did not take long for him to find the change. The creepy black eyeball was not exactly subtle.

He had rushed off to the apartment’s bathroom to have a better look at that point, leaving only a clueless plant monster to keep watch.

Unfortunately, attempts at figuring out what the eye did—most of which revolved around staring intently at the toiletry—did not shed light on any new abilities beyond a persistent itch that made it hard to keep it open. It reminded him of the feeling he got when he spent too much time staring at a screen without blinking.

Man, if Pithy got mad about red eyes, she’s going to freak out about this one.

Eventually, he gave up and came back out to the dark living room. He found the large plant monster Pithy had adopted slithering around the discarded arrow, curiously poking it with its snout.

“Guessing you didn’t see anything while I was out?”

The creature craned its neck to look at him, blowing a quick raspberry his way.

I swear all snakes are assholes. He walked over to where the creature was, shooing him away with a hand before leaning down to pick up the arrow. He brought it closer to his face, examining it. It didn’t look at all different from when he had first picked it up—certainly not as though it had gone through his arm not moments prior. What had been the point of that, anyway? He wished a tutorial message would have appeared to tell him what was new. He almost wondered if he should take another stab at himself to see if it did anything different.

A chill raced down his spine at that thought, the pain and hallucination he had seen flashing through his mind and sending a shiver up the hand that held the relic.

Maybe I should leave the real experimenting to Pithy, he thought, letting the hand holding the arrow fall to his side.

He took his camping spot close to the window once again, surveying the empty streets. Almost as if to punctuate this thought, a bird crowed in the distance.

Dew sighed.

He knew where to stand to keep himself hidden from view. It was not as if he had never camped a single spot in a map, waiting for people to come by for easy kills when he couldn’t expect quick respawns. As long as you found a good spot, that was a way to get your chicken dinners when you were not terribly familiar with your surroundings. Not something that would fly with an audience, mind you, but that was not an issue here. That said, he was not typically expected to sit still for hours on end before anything happened.

Sadly, he had agreed to do this stakeout thing properly, so he couldn’t well take a nap this time. Bored as he was, he found himself wishing something happened sooner rather than later. That, in turn, led to thoughts of what he should do when that time came, and that once again redirected his thoughts to the arrow he still held in his hand. More specifically, to the fact that it had not originally been meant for him.

“And I’m supposed to play decoy if things go south too, aren’t I?” He might not get a chance to get the relic to Pithy before things got ugly.

Taking a glance at the large snake monster lounging nearby, though, it occurred to him that there was a solution to that predicament.

“Here boy,” he said, patting his leg and drawing the snake’s attention to him. “See this? He said, holding the arrow out. “We need to get it to that lady in white we’ve been following around. Thing is, we can’t go and give it to her right now, and I probably won’t be able to go give it to her later. You with me so far?”

The creature stared blankly at him.

“Great. Well, I’m going to need you to hold onto this thing and go give it to her when I tell you. She took you to the bookstore yesterday, right?” He paused for a moment. “Do you know what a bookstore is?”

The snake tilted its head lightly.

Dew scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Place with all the rectangles?” At the snake’s silent stare he drew the shape in the air and added, “you know, like this?”

At that the snake let out a short hiss, bobbing its head forward.

Oh, good, it does understand. I feel like a crazy person when I’m talking and it just stares without doing anything. Dew went to place the object at his feet, but hesitated as a thought struck him. He paused to wrap the paper the note he had found with the arrow around its shaft before leaving it on the floor by the snake. “Great, then hold onto this for now.”

The creature loomed over the proffered object, sniffing at it curiously, before it reared back, shaking slightly. For a moment Dew wondered if the thing was scared of the relic, until he noticed its head bobbing up and down, as though trying to dislodge something from its throat. The snake made a retching noise, and an oval object only slightly smaller than Dew’s fist clattered on the ground.

“Nice. Is that a timer? Did you steal it from the apartment’s kitchen?” As the snake leaned down to swallow the arrow, Dew picked up the object, turning it in his hand curiously. “Probably mistook it for an egg.”

Turning the dial on a whim, Dew quickly realized that the snake had vomited something far more valuable than an oven timer.

Marotte made his silent way forward, accompanied by his ghostly, and at the moment body-less, companion Egon. He himself had opted for using his own camouflage to approach their designated area stealthily, mostly because his body had the unfortunate trait of being actual flesh and not ash.

Speaking of ash, the look on the fox-lady's face when Egon had simply let his body dissolve, still made him chuckle. She was a cranky one, rivalling even Egon in that respect, but even her bitch-face had cracked when he had dusted himself, showing some genuine surprise underneath. It was a memory he would take with him for as long as he could, and though it made him want to laugh he couldn't afford to.

They had been instructed to search the building where they had spotted the light being turned on, and this time Lily took extra precautions and sent Egon along. She had reasoned, that since her next opponent was almost certainly within that building – she had walked around the hotel a bit, and the drone she had with her turned enough that she claimed she she couldn't be wrong – there was no reason to take any chances. She had already seen magic, and now that she had someone who could sense it, she wanted to make use of his abilities.

So Egon had been kindly told to hover his way forward, as only a good ghost could, and sniff out any magical trickery that he could.

Marotte looked forward, toward where a potted plant marked the entrance to the building in question. Somehow he doubted there would be anything, but orders were orders, and they had been told to listen to what the lady-fox said. Funny thing that, foxes. So similar to dogs, even being sort of a canine themselves, and Lily was, unsurprisingly, female. The slice in his face that served as a mouth quirked to one side, humoured by his own little joke.

"Yo̸u ́t͡h͟i̛n͏k ̨we'̶l͞l͘ ̀fin͝d͘ ͏a͠nythin͘g͜?̧" Marotte whispered into empty air, in the general direction of where he expected Egon to be.

He received dry silence in return, an answer expected of someone like Egon. Had he possessed a body he might have even rolled his eyes.

Satisfied with his response, Marotte focused forward again, trusting Egon to warn him should anything happen or appear. They were both as good as invisible, so chances of anyone getting the jump on them were tiny to begin with, but one couldn't be too sure.

"Well, then tell m̶e̵ ͡if yoų sén͜se ̨a҉n͡y̴t͡hi͟ng," he whispered again, this time referring to the bit of Egon's ash he had hidden within his skin. One trick he had come up with, was to hide the ash like he hid his knives – within his own body – and for Egon to then tug on it if he noticed anything. So far, nothing.

He looked towards the opposite side of the street, scanning the fronts of small stores crammed between concrete behemoths that passed for buildings. Everything was turned off, everything was abandoned, left alone after the mass evacuation, or whatever had happened to this place. He looked up and stopped, eyes narrowing in the direction of a particular window of a tall building. He thought he had seen movement, something moving rapidly past the window in an upwards angle.

He waited a time, feeling his own heart beat, counting. At the tenth beat when nothing more had happened he started moving forward again. A small question mark formed from ash hovered in his peripheral, between him and the buildings on his side.

"T͝h̢o͢ught I s͡aw̛ ̨some͝t̨h̕i̴n̶g̸," he said quietly, "b̀u͡ţ i̕t͏ ẃas n̴o͠thin̡g̷.͢ ̸F̵orwar͡d̨,̶ my grumpy̛ fr̶ie͞n̶d͞, t͡o search̢ ͠f̢o͝r̴ t̷h̷i͘n̶gs͡ ̀th̛e fox͡-la͘dy t̀h̴i͠n͞k̢s is͜ ͡th͠e̴r͘e͜."

The question mark crumbled, falling to the ground like dust in a way that seemed almost disappointed.

Not thinking anymore of it, Marotte continued forward.

They reached the entrance within the next minute, Marotte being forced to move slowly so as to remain as unseen as possible. He was already walking towards the door when he felt the tell-tale tug from inside his body – Egon's ash. He stopped immediately and looked about slowly. Nothing moved, not even from the window he had previously been suspicious of. Still nothing.

A small circle with intricate lines formed in the air, looking much akin to a spell circle. So there was magic afoot. The small circle morphed into an arrow pointing towards the doors. It then circled around and pointed at Marotte, and then descended to make contact with the ground, tip-first.

"Fine, ̷I'l͘l s͝taỳ he͢re̛. Y̶o͜u ͏go a̶h͏e̷a̢d ̶ànd s̶c̵out. ͜I͝f̶ any̢th͡i͠ńg̛ h̴a̴pp͜e͝ns,͞ m̸a̡ke͞ a r̡uckus҉ ́and ͜I͞'̸l͟l ̸d̢a̴rt b͞ack an̵d ̧i̶nf͠o̧rm͝ ̶La̸dy-Fox.͢" He stepped over to lean up against the wall, sighing.

All he could do now was wait.

---

The mental ping of nearby magic had alerted Egon to its presence, and a little closer searching revealed it to be a ward covering the entrance of the building.

When it became clear that it worked based on physical presence, he passed over it and gave his message to Marotte, satisfied that he understood it, and hovered in.

Inside he found only several mailboxes hanging on the far wall, and a door leading to what he assumed to be the stairwell. Invisible, he hovered forward, passing through the door and came into view of the stairs leading upwards. Another ping alerted him, this one coming from straight ahead. Sharpening his magical perceptions brought the faint glow of another ward to his attention, covering the bottom of the stairs, and was identical to the one at the main entrance.

By the looks of it, whoever was housed here was as paranoid as Lily, perhaps more-so, if one were to judge from their use of detection spells. It did mean that he was on the right track, however, and that thought propelled him forward past the ward, and up the stairs.

There were two options worth considering, with current information in mind. One was that Lily's next opponent either intended for the wards to be a trail of breadcrumbs leading them into a trap, and the other that they were simply a warning system meant to alert the occupant, or perhaps remnants of the old inhabitants?

The first possibility hinged on the assumption, that whoever was meant to follow them could even detect them in the first place. In such a case, an individual such as Egon was the target, but based on the information he had, there was no way they would know who they were to fight next. Were that the case, Lily would not be as cautious as she was, and would have far more information and thus not need them to go scout like this. Chances were she was as ignorant as them, which left the second option, that they were simply a defence mechanism, or proverbial alarm bells. Which one was the most likely, he was not quite sure of, as even the second, and most likely, one seemed perhaps too simple.

That opened up the possibility of a third option: That the wards were a diversion, and a warning system at the same time. This way it would serve both functions: That of a warning system to the caster, and a wild goosechase for the victim. In the worst case scenario, the wards would lead someone like Lily astray, and in the best case it would alert the caster to the presence of their target, and lead them on a chase.

The appearance of a third ward brought him out of his ruminations. It covered the door leading out from the stairs, and into one of the hallways. Quirking a non-existent eyebrow, Egon found himself surprised that he had gone this far before any other wards appeared. He noted the large '1' emblazoned upon the door. The first floor, then. Adding a non-existent shrug, he dutifully followed the breadcrumbs, floating through the door. On the other side he was greeted by doors lining the walls, spaced evenly across the entire length, and until the dead-end a fair distance away. The window at the end was the only thing breaking up the monotony.

He moved forward slowly, keeping his detection spell going, looking for anything that he could while making certain that the room with the light on in it, did not escape his notice. He was somewhat surprised to find several wards in this area, the first of which that caught his attention being the one placed over the window straight ahead. It was not one you could open, but nonetheless anything that entered through it would alert via both magic and the noise of broken glass.

Paranoia on par with Lily's it seemed.

Other faint tingles of magic came from several of the apartments, some where just the door into them were covered, and others with just the window, or both. Each and every one of them containing the same type of spell: Detection, and a simple one at that. A novice magician perhaps? Or again, a trick to lure them in.

A few minutes passed with him lazily gliding down the hall, checking the rooms for any magic and finding only the wards. That is, until a certain room caught his attention. Or rather, the door to it. Like so many others, this one was covered in a ward as well, but he sensed faint traces of far more behind it. Cautiously, and looking inside confirmed what he believed, he pushed his ethereal head through and looked inside. When no traps activated her let the rest of himself follow, and immediately found himself astounded. The room held more wards than any of the other rooms he had looked at so far: Window to the back courtyard, entrance, and even between the doors leading from the kitchen to the living room, and everything in-between.

Knowing his temporary superior would not be satisfied lest he be thorough, and because it was the natural thing to do, Egon set about scouring the room. It would have been difficult to tell if there had been any recent uses of the room, given the nature of the rest of the city and how everything seemed to have been abandoned from one second to the other, as if by mass teleportation. However in this case there were still a few things that stuck out as suspicious, and made him certain someone had been here very recently.

First on his were the pieces of paper strewn about, and knocked from the desk, second was the blood on the floor; dry, but not so much as to have been very old. He hovered closer, ethereal eyes narrowed. A smattering of ash materialised at his command, grinding against the blood on the floor. When he pulled it away it stick to the ash. No, not old at all. He was no physician, but he knew that it took a fair amount of time before blood dried to the point where it didn't rub off anymore. He looked up, at this point spotting the mirror. A curious thing, as none had been in the living room before, but nothing to rouse his suspicion. What was in the mirror, however, did catch his attention; boxes made of something like extra thick parchment. Flat, and wide, with remnants of some sort of foodstuff within, he found out upon closer inspection, flipping one open with a small ball of ash.

This place had definitely been recently occupied, he decided. The blood alone was evidence enough, but the foodstuff in the flat boxes, still gooey and slimy, further proved it. Whoever had used this room as their temporary base of operation, was very likely their quarry. There were still the other rooms to check, as well as the papers on the floor. He had seen writing on one of them, and had a feeling it was no accident it was left there.

He looked out the window and surveyed the area and other windows facing him for a time. To his satisfaction, none seemed to be there, let alone pay attention to him. He turned and, allowing himself a moment of rare comfort, conjured a new body and started looking through the papers.

There was one with writing on it, and reading it snuffed out any comfort he might have had. His thing lips pressed together to become even thinner, the cigar in his mouth flattening with them.

“Congratulations. This is where I spent the night," he muttered to himself, reading aloud from the note. If there hadn't been proof before, there certainly was now. This was their hiding place. "Was it the wards at the door that led you here? If so, let me commend your ability to detect such a feeble presence. Follow them, then. They shall lead you to the one you seek."

Egon grunted and pocketed the note. So their target wanted to play hide and seek? Well, he wasn't going to play along. It all just brought him back to one of his possibilities, that this was a trap; following the wards certainly seemed to be, if they had anticipated them being magic users as well. He glanced up towards the ceiling, to where the fourth floor was far above. No more chasing bread crumbs, it was too risky, now he did what he was told.

He let his body fall to dust again, leaving only a pinch of ash to hold the notes, letting them trail close to the ground behind his ethereal form, heading to the stairs again.

---

Lily forced her tails to cease their violent, rapid movement, and refrained from tapping her nails on the table beside her. Marotte and Egon had been gone for a while now, and though it was expected that they wouldn't be quick due to the need for stealth, she still found it difficult to remain patient. She was close, so close to getting another one of the 'souls' to fuel her wish. She just needed to know who and what her opponent was, and where they were, so she could plan accordingly and get the jump on them.

"It's taking too long," she grumbled. "I thought your people were better than this, Carreau."

The owl-man's head turned towards her, the movement not unlike the one of a lighthouse. His eyes narrowed slightly behind the visor of his helm, meeting Lily's stare unflinchingly. "They are experts at what they do, Lily. Have faith in them, they will be back shortly, and successful I'm sure."

She looked away, his assurances only mildly comforting, and did nothing to quell her anxiousness. Her tails had started moving again.

She was about to voice her displeasure again a few minutes later, when a loud gunshot rang out, followed almost immediately by the muffled roar of fire, similar to the exhale of many dragons she had fought with, and against.

"Something happened," I.O said unhelpfully and hurried toward the door. The sound of his steps did not drown out the sound of a series of other shots following.

Lily was by the door to the outside by the third one, Carreau at her heels with his sabers drawn. She slammed open the door and flung out her power to create a smokescreen. Egon had beaten her to the punch, ash covered the entire street and halfway between her and the apartment complex, Egon was helping a bleeding Marotte toward them.

"Where did it come from?" Lily demanded, throwing her voice toward them with a push of her magic. An ash-made arrow formed over Egon's shoulder, pointing in the direction of the building immediately opposite the apartment complex. "Curse them!" she snarled. They had had a lookout, or was watching them as well. Regardless, Marotte and Egon had screwed up. She barked an order to get inside, telling Carreau to keep watch, and for I.O to help Marotte.

She didn't let go of the smokescreen she had created until they were all inside, and even then she only let it fade slowly, trying to mimic the natural way it dissipated without looking at it. She hoped it could fool their assailant.

"What happened?" It was Brucie who asked, still holding Mouse who seemed frightened. Understandable.

"Wards all over the building," Egon grunted. "Entrance, stairwell, doors, windows. Everything. I followed the trail while Marotte waited outside."

Carreau lifted a finger, looking as if he suddenly remembered something. Knowing him, he had known all along but played it off casually. "Speaking of Marotte," he began, looking at Lily, "you have a healing elixir of some kind, no?" His head turned meaningfully towards her tails, where she kept one of them curled around the bottle. "Would you be so kind as to heal my friend with it?"

Had it been a more precious resource, Lily would have refused, but given its nature... She grunted and took it from the midst of her furry appendages. She eyed Marotte, seeing his injuries for the first time. A gunshot wound to the stomach had pushed clean through, though it only hit the far side and would only be life threatening if left unattended. Another wound was on his arm, the bullet having graced him there.

"Drink this," she said and held it to what passed for his mouth.

"L̸ik̶e a̴ mo͟t̢h́e͟r ͏an͘d b͏ab͢y," he said, and the cheerful tone of his made her almost want to not heal him.

She resorted to instead silencing him with the bottle, and drink he did. Before her eyes, and like had happened with herself multiple times by now, his wounds healed. The blood remained, but slowly his flesh knit itself back together under the influence of whatever magic this flask possessed.

When the wound had fully closed the flask was nearly empty. She said nothing about it and instead passed it to Brucie, who dutifully filled it up again, using his magi-tech water cannon. When full, he returned it to the embrace of Lily's tails.

"Any more details to share, now that you are healed?" Carreau asked, poking his head over Lily's shoulder to look down at Marotte.

"Su̸re. ͜I҉ wąi̡t̕ed͏ ̢o͡utside̛ w͝h̡i͏le E͞ģo҉n̸ ̨went inside, ҉s̡t̕e͘a҉l͝thil̴y͜ as ́Ì cou̶l̵d̴.͞ ̡I ̢di̸dn͝'̢t m̶o͢ve ̵d̸ur͏i͟n̕g̡ ̨it,҉ ͞ju̢s̛t ͞l͢oo͝ke̷d aro͜un͠d.̴"

"Meanwhile," Egon said, continuing where Marotte left off, "I was inside, as I mentioned, following a trail of detection wards. All simple stuff, really. The trail lead me to the room you pointed out, Lily. There were signs of recent activity, and some blood on the floor. As well as this." He handed her three pieces of paper. "The first one I found in a room facing the middle courtyard. It was in the middle of a trail of detection wards."

Lily glanced over the first note, her jaw clenching at the words written upon it. "You didn't fall for the bait," she pointed out, looking him over. He shook his head "Good. This stinks of a trap." She flipped to the second paper, asking while reading, "and this one?"

Egon blew a small cloud of smoke from his cigar. "Room 4.D, the one with the light on."

Lily nodded, muttering the words to herself as she read it over. “To you who seeks a wish. Your prey is not here, nor will you find it unless you follow these instructions. Disregard them at your own peril.

The entrance, under a potted plant. Go there.” She tore the paper apart and burnt it, summoning a small flame to aid her. "Bitch." She looked to Marotte who was, at this point, wiping off the remaining blood with a little help from Brucie and his water cannon. "So that is how he got hurt?" She asked, earning a nod from Marotte and Egon at the same time.

"He̢ c̀àm͏e̕ d̵own ͟w̴i̸t͢h͜ ͠th͡e n̸ót̀es̴, still ̡i͢n̢v͠i̵sible ̸óf cou͡rs̀e, 'cept͘ a̶ ̴li̛t͟t͠l̀e ̕a̵sh̷ ̛to͠ ͝ho̢ld͞ ͡th͠e ̢n͜ote̸s̡.̛ ͞N͠o ͟h͘a̴n̷dś, ̕y'kn̕o̶w."

Egon sighed. "The point he is trying to make, is that I came down with the notes and showed them to him. He then had the brilliant decision to start moving the potted plant and retrieve the last note that you're holding." He blew out another cloud of smoke, this one aimed at Marotte. "That is when the first shot was fired."

"So they know we're here," Lily grunted and read the third, and final, note. "The bookstore?" She looked up, eyeing the others with a quizzical look. "She wants to meet me at the bookstore and fight me there. What kind of blithering idiot announces where they will be, and pretends like they will somehow elude me if I don't come alone?" She tapped the still hovering drone with a knuckle. "Especially with these?"

Carreau laughed. "Either your opponent is supremely confident in their ability to deceive and elude, or they will be easily proven wrong. Eitherway, should prove interesting, no?"

She blew a few errant strands of hair out of her face, ears and tail flicking in annoyance. She gave Marotte a sidelong glance. "Seems like we have a fellow trickster to track. I hope your willingness to help has not been shot?"

The fleshy jester let out a warbling laugh. "N͞e̢ver̴!̕"

The window sills warped, the crystal cracking and falling inwards against the buffeting of super-heated air. Fire swept upwards, catching on the curtains and beginning to spread through the ceiling.

It had happened so suddenly, Dew had barely the time to throw himself to the floor.

He had only realized something was amiss moments earlier. There had been no movement on the streets since he had passed the arrow to the plant snake. When he happened to glance down to street level, however, he noticed that some of the decorative plants placed at the building’s entrance had been moved. At first, he thought he might have been misremembering their positions. It was not as though he had put much effort into memorizing the appearance of the building’s face. He would have put the feeling down to his imagination, were it not for the fact that just as his gaze began to wander, he caught a slight shimmer of light, and one of the vases suddenly beginning to shift.

He recognized the shimmer for what it was, but it was far from a pleasant realization.

He took the shot immediately after, but it was made painfully obvious that whatever was out there was not alone. He was readying himself to fire again when another figure materialized itself down below and a gout of flame roared his way.

“Shit!” Dew exclaimed as he scuttled away from the fire. “I didn’t see a drone—did you see a drone?”

For its part, the plant snake did not offer a helpful response. The sudden onset of the flames, even now starting to spread inside the building, had put the creature in a panic. It thrashed away from the heat as if in pain, whining pitifully the whole time.

“Yeah, me neither,” Dew answered himself as he propped himself up, trying to peek past the blaze to the streets below. Even with the right angle, all he could see below was ash and smoke. Did no drones mean it was the College? The same kind of thing Pithy had run into the previous day? Or was someone—

The deafening blare of fire alarms drove the thoughts from his head as he reflexively brought his hands up to protect his ears.

The snake’s response was much more violent, and definitely more unexpected. It’s thrashing intensified, until suddenly it burst into a swarm of black butterflies that just about knocked Dew on his back again through the sheer force of volume as they scattered about, most flying past the flames through the open windows.

Dew’s only answer to the bizarre event was to spit In an effort to get the taste of butterfly out of his mouth.

“Okay,” he said, though he could hardly hear himself over the alarm. “You do that.”

Which left him with just himself to sort out. A glance around the room showed no signs of the arrow, and he was not about to try to figure out what had happened to it and the snake with the sirens blasting at his eardrums, so as he pulled himself back to his feet he decided that was no longer his problem.

Pithy had said it would be up to him to figure out what to do and to buy time, but adaptive camouflage and flamethrowers had not exactly been part of the conversation.

All he knew was that Pithy would be heading to the bookstore, and trouble would most likely be following her. Meaning that if he wanted to do something about it, he would have to head in that direction.

That was as far as that thought went when a fresh blast of the alarms interrupted it.

Whatever the case, his sniping spot was getting a little too hot for his liking, so without another thought he slung his rifle and ran for the exit.

---

The muted crackle of Dew’s firearm, followed by the distant blaring of sirens, made Pithy raise her gaze from her work. Confirmation that her plan had deviated from its optimal course.

Given the way her wards had been triggered, she had all but assumed something was off. Namely, the first ward to be triggered had been within the room she and Dew had stayed the night, and it had only been triggered once, indicating that whoever or whatever had crossed the threshold had done so on their way out. The rest of the wards that triggered suggested a single entity, but the abruptness of its appearance, as though it had manifested already within the building, made her hasten to put her escape plan in motion.

Pithy had used the bracelet she had claimed from Bonesword to transform into a slime creature, taking advantage of her newfound malleability to traverse a trash chute to the lowest floors, from where she took a back exit. From there, she had made her way to the back of the bookstore she had explored the other day.

The interior of the bookstore was not as she had left it, but this was something she had hoped for. After all, before she had left, she had taken pains to find and break the building’s water piping so it would leak through the night. As a result, much of the floor had been flooded. The spacious hall at the entrance, being slightly lower in elevation, had seen the water rise high enough to completely submerge the lowest set of tomes on its bookshelves.

After a moment, she cast her gaze back down to the crystalline shapes at her feet. The glowing runes on the rapier held in her left hand illuminated her surroundings with a pale light, bathing her surroundings in a chilling cold. A similar foreboding glow bled from within the bandages covering her right arm. She allowed the magic to flow mostly unrestrained, to the point where a fragile coat of ice had formed over the water closest to her.

It was the sound of breaking glass that shattered her concentration this time, and this time she stopped her work with a mental curse. The noise had come from within the bookstore.

Already? I thought I would have more time than this.

She had frozen shut the back exit she had used to enter the store, but rather than force the intruder to use the front entrance as she had hoped, it seemed they had broken in through a window.

Pithy turned towards the rows bookshelves at the back of the hall, blade and magic at the ready. However, the bundle of black butterflies that fluttered into sight was far from what she had expected. She had already raised her rapier, power billowing, when the mass of butterflies shuddered and a familiar shape clinked to the floor below it.

Pithy’s eyes widened as she recognized the arrow she had but glimpsed after her initial duel with Mountain Dew. The one which, according to Nero, had become a source of power for the rouge members of the College.

A moment later, the butterflies pressed against each other and the plant creature she had become familiar with plopped down onto the floor, letting out a whine of complaint. Pithy made towards it, kneeling to grab the artifact and to take a closer look at the decidedly smaller snake.

Pithy noted the piece of parchment wrapped around the shaft and quickly unfurled it, scanning through its contents. She took a deep breath.

I know that whatever that power is, it came from the arrow, Nero’s words echoed in her mind. The only things I can say about the power, though admittedly this is mostly guessing based on what we’ve seen, is that it’s not like any kind of magic I’ve ever seen or heard of, that it’s different per person, and that it comes from within.

She quickly re-read the note before putting it away. The appearance of an unknown party claiming to be an ally was concerning, but given the strange reactions of her wards and the sounds coming from outside, she was less inclined to dismiss its claims out of hand. Moreover, where in other circumstances she might have believed the arrow to be a poisoned trap laid by the enemy she sought to face, the way the snake had presented itself to her suggested the artifact was likely to be the genuine article.

She imagined Dew must have come across the object as he left the apartment building, and perhaps having similar misgivings as her own, decided to test the veracity of the letter. “That said, I did not expect Dew to use you as a guinea pig,” she noted as she examined the plant creature.

Predictably, the snake offered no intelligible response aside from a sibilant hiss. At the very least, it seemed whatever excitement it had encountered had rendered it more responsive to her words. She decided to press while it still responded to her.

“Did he tell you to deliver this?” The snake bobbed its head in a clear affirmative. “Did he stab himself with it?” The snake flinched away when she brought the arrow closer to ask her question, but nodded a moment after nonetheless.

“I see. It’s clear what I should do, then.” Pithy nodded to herself, her resolution solidifying. “There is but one thing. I had meant to keep you out of this battle,” she told the snake, “but I fear that is not realistic anymore. So instead, I would ask for your cooperation.”

Shoving her hesitation behind her, Pithy pressed the arrow into the flesh of her upper right arm, gritting her teeth at the pain from the wound. Nothing seemed to happen except for the droplet of blood running down her arm, and the dull throbbing of pain from where she had stabbed herself.

So it does nothi—

Fire and ice flooded her veins from one instant to the next, singing her nerves and chilling her bones. Flashes of agony sent shocks from the wound and through her body. She could hardly scream. Her body locked up and it was all she could do to remain standing as she felt every muscle spasm, every bone break, every tendon snap.

She could hear nothing but white noise and blood rushing in her ears. The taste of iron filled her mouth, and slowly, distantly, she became aware of a new pain.

Whatever had happened was abating, and soon the only pain that remained was where she had bit her own tongue. Shaking and sweating, feeling warm and cold all at once, Pithy forced herself to stand up straight. A mewl of concern had her open her eyes, meeting those of the serpentine plant creature.

“I’m fine,” she grunted and gave herself a cursory inspection. Her tongue hurt and the taste of blood remained. Unavoidable. The rest of her, however, seemed to be unharmed; even the wound from the arrow was healed, leaving behind a small scar.

She glared at the arrow still in her right hand, before throwing it to the floor. She looked again at the snake and lifted her hand, about to shoo it away when she spotted something in the corner of her vision. She whirled towards it, rapier at the ready, before she even had considered if it was friend or foe.

It stood still, watching her expectantly. It had the upper body of a woman, white skin with a steel-like sheen, atop a towering body held aloft by furred, crab-like legs. It slowly moved to follow Pithy’s gaze, yet found nothing but a bookcase.

“What are you?” Pithy hissed, the runes of her rapier still aglow from expecting to fight. Why did it not attack? Had it snuck up on her? A curse from the arrow? Her eyes narrowed at it, but even with the tip of her rapier a mere hand’s breadth from its flesh, it was immobile.

Her thoughts returned again to the arrow, and the letter that had come with it. It had promised power; power that she had now accepted to stand up against her next opponent who had, if the message was to be believed, they had struck a deal with powerful individuals, and would come with reinforcements.

Her gaze rose to the creature again. It had not moved, or acted in any way since it had appeared, except to turn its head.

“Move,” Pithy said aloud, pointing with her rapier. She wasn’t certain if it would work, but if she could just make it take a few steps in some direction, then—

The creature moved, stepping in the direction that Pithy commanded, and stopped at the exact point where her rapier pointed.

Her eyes widened. There hadn’t been any hesitation in its movements, her order had simply been obeyed without question. Was the power she had been granted just an extra monster? The serpent’s own power had been more than that, by her estimate. Perhaps if she…

“Push it,” she ordered, and like she intended it brought on its massive front-pincers up to a bookshelf and pushed it. It tipped and hit the adjacent one with a small crash. It remained there, leaning against the other bookshelf as tomes big and small tumbled down on the ground between them.

It obeyed her, to the letter. Astounding, she thought. No, not quite right. It obeyed her orders to the spirit. It had moved to the exact spot she was gesturing towards, and had simply pushed the shelf enough that it tipped, but not so much that it caused a domino effect and destroyed potential cover.

The snake made a sound, like a wordless question. It looked to Pithy, then to the bookshelf.

“Stay calm,” Pithy told it, whereupon it coiled in on itself, its head low.

This new… creature, whatever it was, displayed not only blind obedience, but a degree of comprehension as to her intent. Intriguing, and possibly a great boon to have in the coming confrontation.

She took a breath, steadying her nerves, and let it out slowly. Turning to face the front of the bookshop, she resumed her waiting.

---

Instantaneous, large-scale AOE attacks like those were bullshit, in Dew’s expert opinion. Not only had the guy appeared out of thin air, he had also ruined his vantage point instantly, but he had also managed to singe Dew’s hair!

His grumblings continued as he dashed for the bookstore where the Ice Queen would be waiting. In the interest of avoiding a reaming about his new eye, he decided on finding a new vantage point, from where he could help. From afar. Where Pithy’s commanding voice couldn’t reach him.

With any luck he would get to shoot something too.

Movement. It was quick, perhaps a trick of the light, but years of listening for footsteps and gun barrels poking around corners had taught him better than to ignore it. He slid to a stop, sniper raised and pointed at average head height; finger on the trigger and ready for the no-scope. Nothing, except for a small trash panda rounding the corner of the alley. “Huh?” It looked at him curiously for a moment before scurrying off into the adjoining street.

“Coulda swore I saw something larger,” he muttered and took off again. “Visual glitch, probably.” He shook the bizarre event out of his head and, spotting the bookstore up ahead, hurried into one of the apartment buildings. Trash pandas, no matter how large their tails seemed to be, were still just critters; not even worth the EXP.

Finding a good vantage point so he could help Pithy, and in turn avoid getting his ass chewed out by her, had priority.

---

Pithy did not have to wait long before something happened.

Outside a grey-black cloud came into existence within moments, flowing from the alley across the street. Sorcery, then? Was it her enemy who conjured it, or one of their allies? She tightened the grip of her rapier, the runes on it glowing faintly in response to her magic.

The cloud pushed forward, obscuring whatever and whoever would be inside. She had demanded that only the wielder of the phylactery come to her, but she could not be certain that was the case.

Behind her the snake hissed, its entire body tensing up in preparation for what was to come. She called to the ice around her, a number of icicles coming to rest hovering on her left—her right shielded by a hovering wall of ice.

The cloud hit the front of the shop, the glass and frames warping and shattering. The ice started to melt, and Pithy had the horrible realisation that only a pyromancer was capable of conjuring a pyroclastic flow like that.

She summoned the air and sent a blast of frigid wind forward, striking the cloud. It pushed inwards, creating a large dent where the wind had hit, but more smoke and ash filled it in and pushed forward.

Willing herself to calm, she debated whether to flee or to remain. If her opponent’s plan was to kill her with volcanic ash they would have surrounded the building first, and no ice had melted near the back wall, indicating they hadn’t done so, leaving her with a way out. Alternatively she could chill the air enough that the ash cloud became only an obscuring factor, but it still hid her enemy.

She had taken only a few steps towards the back wall, intent on having her new servant—ally?—punch through it, when the cloud stopped its approach halfway towards her, and a figure stepped out from within it.

A woman clad in tight, thin clothes and looking barely out of her teens. Beautiful, but inhuman; a mix of beast and humanoid traits. Pithy narrowed her eyes, staring warily at her. Nine white tails moving like a sea of fur behind her.

“I assume you are to be my next opponent?” Pithy said, holding up her rapier.

“I come with an offer,” the other woman said, her blue eyes meeting Pithy’s stare without hesitation. Pithy snorted. “I have in my employ other individuals who would have a wish granted. Join me, hand over your phylactery so we can conclude this without bloodshed, and I will grant your wish alongside those of my own and my allies.”

Pithy stared, stunned by the offer and the audacity. One one hand, was it possible to grant more than one wish? Depending on the method of asking for one’s wish, it was conceivable that it could be worded to grant several desires at once. On the other hand, she had no reason to believe this woman. She bore striking similarities to the fox spirits in the east of her homeworld—Tricksters all. There wasn’t any guarantee that it would work either way, and she was not willing to jeopardize her own life on a ‘maybe’.

Perhaps she could turn it around instead? It worked the last time. “Would you agree to trading phylacteries? That way we might work alongside one another, no servitude necessary.” Any extra drop in temperature would be negligible in this place; the distance to the wall of volcanic ash was sufficient, she hoped. She grasped a thread of magic and wove it into an illusion around the spent phylactery she still carried, and held up what appeared to be a still active phylactery. “Hand over yours, and I will give you mine.”

The woman stood still, staring at the phylactery for a while. Long enough that Pithy was starting to wonder if perhaps she had gone mute. A minute of tense silence followed before she spoke.

“I sense that you do not fully trust me. I see that you are one of the Fae, so perhaps these words will convince you: I swear upon my power that I will attempt to grant both your wish, mine, and the others in my employ, provided you hand over your own phylactery so that I may claim the soul within.”

A slight widening of her eyes was the only surprise Pithy allowed herself to show. Those words were not said lightly. Breaking such an oath had consequences, and it was trustworthy in almost all cases. That still did not mean she could trust this fox-woman, and the risk of the wish-granting device being incapable, or refusing, of granting only the winner’s personal desire still remained.

She put the empty phylactery back under her robes, shaking her head. “I will not risk it,” she said, and sent forth one of the icicles.

She spied a look of regret on the other woman’s face before the icy javelin tore through it, leaving behind nothing but a fading, smoky visage.

”So be it,” the same voice said from within her head. The ash cloud started approaching again.

Illusionist! Pithy grit her teeth, berating herself for not trying to peer through the illusion earlier.

---

Lily glanced to the side where Egon materialized. He gave her the brief version of what the elf inside the bookstore had said.

She gritted her teeth and looked in again, thanking her luck that her goggles allowed her to see through solid objects. “Push the pyroclast forward,” she ordered him, even as she cast forward her voice to the elf; So be it.

“I.O, stay within my illusion!” She hissed as well, prompting the behemoth to shuffle a few steps closer. “We saw the sniper, we know where he went. Don’t let him see you!”

Carreau flew overhead, equipped with grenades of Egon’s make, and watching for the exact location of the sniper.

Her own tails were a sea of writhing fur, blue sparks dancing between them impatiently, wanting to be set free and electrify the world around them. She kept a lid on it, watching the elf that had spurned her so.

She heard the tingle of metal objects hitting the ground, followed near immediately by a distant boom. Carreau had detonated one of his bombs.

Lily, Marotte and Brucie jumped away from the small grenade that rolled to a stop near them. Egon dematerialized, and I.O lunged. The giant beetle had barely covered it when the grenade went off, a flash and a muted boom sounded from underneath him, prompting a reverberating groan from the him.

Lily looked up, spotting Carreau throwing another bomb at one of the windows at a building opposite them. She cast her voice to him, muttering the words even as the auditory illusion repeated them for the owl. ”Rout him. Take his weapons if you can.” He let out an owlish screech in return.

“W̶h̛a͏t̵ ҉no͟w͢?́” Marotte warbled, jittery energy making his hands twitch. He was looking towards the ash cloak that coated the front of the bookshop, as if peering through it.

“Circle the back. Brucie, leave Mouse, and flank with Marotte!” Orbs of cobalt flame flared to existence at her command. “Egon, keep the pyroclast up, and help Carreau.”

None saluted, except Brucie, but all went on to their task. The elf within was rushing towards the back of the shop, having discarded the futile attempts at stopping the pyroclastic flow. A large serpentine creature following, nearly outpacing her.

A burst of fire aimed at the building Carreau had entered signalled Egon’s continued assault.

Lily watched the brick smoulder and the iron bend for a moment longer before resuming her plan. “I.O, with me.” She ran to the side of the building, slowing down to let the beetle keep up. She had dispelled the illusory bubble keeping them hidden. The sniper wouldn’t have time to attack now.

“Break that wall!” She ordered once they reached the side of the building, past where the pyroclast reached. For the moment.

I.O ran forward, one of his massive arms striking the building with enough force to create a small shockwave. A low roar rumbled from his chest, heralding the second strike. The wall caved, and shattered inwards. He climbed in, followed immediately by Lily.

She looked towards where she knew the elf was, and hurried forward. She reached out to push open the door, only for pain to meet her where she smacked into the wall. “What?!” There had been a door here a moment ago, she’d seen the elf open it. Sweat dripped from her brow, not just from the heat. Turned out there was more than cryomancy at play. Conjuration? Transmutation?

“I.O, smash!”

“Yes,” he rumbled and rushed forward, his shoulder caving the wall.

Looked through, she could see the elf briefly face them before rushing towards the back of the storage. Her jaw hurt from clenching. The creaking of brick and metal burning several metres behind them but a dull backdrop to the sound of I.O striking the wall again. And then again.

“Lily,” he said slowly, confusion filling his deep voice. She looked up.

“What?”

“Wall is harder than before. Not stone anymore.”

She blinked, wondering if she had misheard. Was the elf so proficient that she could transform a wall? She yanked off her goggles and looked at the wall proper. Where should have been stone she saw metal. Silvery grey, shaped like the bricks and mortar that composed it earlier.

Pride told her to not let a simple transmutation spell stop them, but practicality instructed her to do otherwise. “Out again!” she ordered and ran out from where they’d come, ignoring the searing heat on her back and tails as best she could, having come much too close to the ash cloud for comfort.

She heard the holler of Brucie followed by a foreign sound. A feminine yell, and the warbling cry of Marotte. A white light radiated from behind the building for but a moment, blinding in its intensity but for the goggles she wore. Almost immediately a wave of cold washed over her, enough to slow her down and make her hesitate.

A cry followed and from around the corner flew Brucie, the shark covered in flecks of ice landed hard on the ground before sliding to a stop. He groaned, so alive at least.

Another warbling cry from Marotte, and he darted around the corner as well. An icicle followed, embedding itself in the ground precariously close to where Brucie lay.

“Ice̵ ́m̕a͞g̶i͡c a̕n̵d ̵plan̡t ̕s͢nak͟è!͘” he yelled. “Som͞eth͘i̵ng͝ invi͠sibl͏e͢ pu͝nch̵ed ̨t́h͝e̵ ҉Shar͜k̴” He glanced to the side and melded with the wall.

I.O stood waiting for her commands even as adrenaline filled her veins. It was rapidly becoming clear that she was dealing with no ordinary spellcaster.

She retreated several steps, giving I.O the order to keep the elf occupied as best he could, and protect Brucie while he recovered.

Reaching within, she found the magic that made her a trickster. One advantage she had was that her opponent only knew of three of them so far. Not their full numbers. Calling upon memories of friends and foes alike, creatures that were once myth and legend to her world flickered into existence. Wooden dryads, ghastly fiends and hybrids of human and monster appeared around them, sidling up with I.O and started their advance with him.

Time to see if this sorceress could distinguish one reality from another.