Stepping through the portal that was made for him and Esmii, both people came from the latter's new castle of Desta'Lovox. The temperature soared after a few minutes of being there, and with the portal closed there was no going back for now. A foul stench was in the air, making the Eskandish man cover his nose with his hand. "Gud, det er en moden lukt!" He complained.

Adjusting to the smell of colour for a few moments, he took his hand magic from his nose. Hearing Esmii say goodbye to him and walking off, he gave a smile and a nod. Once he parted ways with Esmii, he knew she'd be fine here. She's a smart one, plus she'd know her way around this area. After a few steps, he ended up stepping on a branch, causing it to snap. The noise of the snapped branch echoed throughout the area he was in, instead of birds flying away spooked by the noise that was created. Instead, there was nothing. That was rather unnatural. Once the sound of snapping foliage faded nothing else, no insects or birds, could thus be the work of that beast.

While walking through this eerie swamp. He thought of that old saying about if a tree falls, does it make a sound? Hor's mind still went back to what happened at Desta'Lovox, with how Johann acted. But that thought quickly left as he heard noises; following the noises, it led to the old ruins. He scanned the area as he walked to ruins where a man was digging through some rubble. Curious by this, Niallus walked up to the person carefully, so as not to startle him. "Excuse me?" He said as he approached. "Are you from around the area?"

||Gods, That's a ripe smell||

The ruins were mostly destroyed houses, stacked on each other with most of the wood decayed into muck. The stone was made for usable, small isles if one could get over the excessive lack of friction from the moss-like surface.

A man was moving the rubble, partially helping with the gift, but he was meticulous with his work. He was looking for something and was careful about it.

The man was a Yasoi, and once Niallus addressed him he looked the Eskandish youth's way. “Yes.” he answered plainly, turquoise eyes surrounded by massive black circles. The man hadn't slept for a long time. Then, he continued digging through the rubble. But unlike the wandering crone, his movements had a purpose that kept him moving despite clear exhaustion. “No panuu. No panuu.” he grunted from under a half-decomposed roof to Niallus. “No panuu here.”

Niallus walked closer to the man as he dug, using his gift to move rubble away. As he looked in Niallus' direction speaking about there being no treasure here. Niallus could see he had clear signs of insomnia; how many days had this guy been digging without rest? In this state, Niallus might need to be careful; in this exhausted state, he could lash out at him. He inspected some of the rubble of ruins that was on the path to the man digging.

"What are you looking for? Perhaps I can help you." He asked as he walked to him.

Niallus' request was met with grunts of both exertion and what were supposed to be mumbles. The man barely understood Avincian, and yet here was this human speaking in tongues. The man tunnel-visioned his work.

Then, a sudden ripple ran through the water, and the land shook ever so slightly. Barely noticeable. And yet, it was enough for the stone foundation he was digging under to falter very fast, just about ready to fall over the man. In his exhausted state, he didn't seem to even notice this phenomenon.

Niallus paused for a moment, *Perhaps he doesn't understand Avincian. Or were they more focused on digging?* Niallus wondered as he got closer to the Yasoi, still ever focused on digging in this one spot.

"A’lash, Juup joi wasel-" His sentence was cut short by a ripple that rumbled the area around him, "What was that?" I Looked around to find the origin of that rumble, but with it being so faint, it was likely from a distance. His gaze shifted towards the frail structure that the man was digging and began to fall, possibly because of the low rumble. Niallus dashed towards him, attempting to save the man from being crushed by the falling debris. Using his Kinetic magic in an attempt to move him out of the way and then destroy the fallen debris.

||Excuse me, do you need||

Niallus' assumption of being away from anything relevant was, unfortunately, quite wrong. The epicentre of this brief rumbling was none other than the middle of the fetid pond. A statue had been uprooted and left to drop, although the seismic activity had likely something to do with what it had been rooted to. And thus came down the fragile foundation of a ruin, with the tired man nearly biting it. Luckily, Niallus was around.

That said, he had little time to react and the weight was still considerable. The young man struggled to keep the pile he had to improvise support for. Fortunately, he did save the digger from a very likely death. But now he had to extract the dazed man from under the rubble barely fully supported. He could shove all the rubble in one, rough shove to the side. A noisy approach, one that'd be as conspicuous as Ingrid's statue moving. Or, he could try to tug the man out at the risk of having the foundation crumble and fall from lack of proper support, likely killing the man and hurting himself in the process.

Sven was at a full run and full draw, unbinding the water in front of him as he went and solidified the ground. Despite his massive capacity, it was, to put matters simply, exhausting.

He was too late to save Esmii from her misadventure, but then Ingrid did what he'd wanted to do and popped the statue up. Bad idea.

The ruins around Niallus and the old man he'd been trying to speak to collapsed suddenly and violently, the Eskandishman barely saving the latter (and himself) from being crushed.

Sven rushed over, throwing caution to the wind and unbinding - instead of the water around himself - the ruins themselves. "Hang on Shaberhagen!" he shouted. "I've got you!

He didn't have time to properly move the man from being crushed, so he acted as best he could. Even holding the rubble was no easy task, even with his Kinetic the sheer weight of all that stone was taking its toll on the young Eskandishman. He thought about pushing it up with a kinetic blast. For him to grab the old man and jump before it comes back. That would require split-second timing. "Tiin. senii." Niallus shouted to the old man, but he didn't respond to his words. Niallus could not help but curse under his breath. He was running out of time and options.

He heard a familiar voice, followed by a familiar figure running towards him. "Sven?" A mixture of confusion, surprise and relief was in his tone when mentioning his friend's name. "How did you get here?" He said to his kinsmen. His focus faulted, the weight getting more intense. "I can hold this for a bit longer. Can you grab him, get him out of the way?" He asked his friend.

---

With the help of Sven, Niallus was able to get the sluggish Yasoi man out of danger, but not without fumbling. The bigger Eskandishman was also not exactly the fastest either, leading to the whole group being caught in a massive splash of swamp goop. Harmless, if they didn’t swallow, although it left a blinding cloud of green smoke around them. They could hardly see each other.

What they did see, however, were long, tentacle-like shapes emerging all around them. Much taller than these young men, at least double their height, and about half the width of the burly Sven. They undulated and writhed, before bending closer to their prey.

Then, the shriek happened, prompting the appendages to lash out!

After the two Eskandishmen helped the Yasoi and themselves. The trio found this in swamp fog "Fra gryten, inn i ilden." Niallus said. On instinct, Niallus tried not to breathe so much of the gas in case it proved fatal. He could barely see Sven and the old Yasoi. It was then he saw the extremely hostile danger; two vines attempted to attack him. He focused with a deep breath, and with some help from one of his divine fruits, the vines charged at Niallus; he kept focus as he avoided the vine's attempt at grabbing him. *I have to keep focused.* He thought.

With the two vines' attacks avoided with ease, he was free to help the other two if they needed him. He had both Sven and the old Yasoi not too far from him and his sensing range. He didn't know what the vines were going to do. Regardless he was ready to help them from being attacked.

||From the pot, into the fire.||

There was no magic quick-acting enough here except for the very blunt, of which Sven had only Atomic, which he could not use for the presence of Niallus and this old man. Easily, he might've swept the entire tangle of vines away, but he'd likely have killed or maimed them in the process. He might've used internal chemical magic on a known foe, but he still lacked even the slightest understanding of how this foe worked, much less what might effectively slow, wither, or kill it.

Cursing inwardly, the Eskandishman scrambled back, using the energy from the water - And some very alarming chemical compounds - he'd unbound to power his magic.

Massive and unskilled, a rush of air blasted through the unnatural haze and a series of small, pinpoint explosions - much more skilled - blasted at the thick vines. It was the best that Sven could do robbed of his major offensive weapons. "Get down and out of the way!" he shouted as he did it, hoping that the others would listen.

Sven didn't even see it. Vaguely, in the mists, which he had failed to clear, the man was stabbed repeatedly and Sven could feel his chemical composition changing. The entire scene was changing, fast becoming desperate.

This was an unholy place and the poor fellow was, simply put, as good as dead or... something worse. He'd noticed how an old woman had chopped off her hand and how others had bound theirs so anxiously. Sven knew the rational thing to do. He should let these poor souls die. Nay, he should speed them on their way. lest they become a liability or be turned against him and his allies. Yet, to do so would be to let cruelty and evil win. It would be to betray his oaths as a jarl of Eskand, even if these were not his lands. It would be a betrayal of the responsibility that the Gods had set upon his shoulders. "If you can clear the vines, I can shave him," Sven promised in a voicece that was not quite determined, not quite resigned. Esmii's 'loyal subjects' had sent her here!? He shook his head. "We musht hurry before the bog claimsh him."

Niallus didn't expect his kinsman to use an AOE attack. Then again his beloved could be in danger, so it's likely he's not wanting to waste time. Looking at the body in the water. He was alive, but barely. What was he digging here for.?Pehaps the person lived in these ruins. Perhaps he had family that lived there; perhaps they lived in the ruins where he was digging. Relying on his own drive to keep digging. A man who lost everything and had nothing to love for maybe?

The body slowly drifted out further and further then began to sink. It was then Sven jumped into action hearing "You're right, but we'll need to act fast if we want to pull him out.". With that, Niallus drew kinetic energy, allowing him to walk on the surface of the water, and with Arcane to make an Arcane sword, he proceeded to cut and clear the other vines away to make a straight path. [color=3d5a88]"I'm glad that you came when you did. He said to Sven as he cleared the vines away.

The Eskandishman fought through the resisting plant life to rescue what looked to be a deadman. Hadric, the blacksmith, accepted that he would see his family in the next world upon failing to find them in this mortal life. And yet a house of all people fought tooth and nail for his safety. If he could, he would have spared the boy the trouble, and yet he wasn’t even capable of talking.

With one swing of his Arcane sword, a vine was cleaved away, the vine burnt and crisp from where Niallus' magic sliced through it. After the vines were cleared. Niallus broke the enchantment of his sword, and it faded into nothing. "That looks like the last of them." He returned to the shore, briefly scanning the landscape. "We need to find a flat area so we can lie him down." Niallus said. "He's not going to last long with those injuries." as he glanced back at the old man.

A blood-curdling screech erupted from the abomination. Its massive and blood maw was fully agape and its mere scream caused the waters to undulate as if the bog was an ocean. With one meal finished, it set eyes on its next fix. One was standing upon a shattered church, one of the few structures made of stone, two others stood near its frozen appendage. And further beyond, it saw two Yasoi barely making it out of its territory.

Seeing a huge tidal wave coming towards them, they didn't have time to move Hadric as Sven was getting ready to heal him enough to stand. Niallus acted. Standing between his friend and the Yasoi and the Tidal wave that was rapidly approaching. He drew in manas enforcing the area around them. "Not enough." He said, with that, he embraced the power of the void. Void energy rippled along the thin, but durable layer of Kinetic energy.

The wave crashed against the barrier. The weight of the water and the debris that was inside it was enough for small amounts of water, stones and wood to slip through and injure the Eskandr, but he kept up his defensive spell. "Come on, hold." He shouted.

Sven, meanwhile, was far more interested in healing than he was hitting back. He and Niallus had set out to save a man and had now nearly let him die. Sven staggered ashore and dumped his charge on the muddy ground as gently as he could, chest heaving. The contamination was spreading and he doubted that he could heal it with binding.

"Cover me," he shouted in Niallus' direction, [color=385403]"I'm going to try shomething!"[/colour He settled himself as much as one could be given the circumstances. He breathed. Just don't die on me now, he thought at the gravely wounded yasoi. Gathering his energy, he split matter and drew out the reaction. Targeting the hotspots of the contamination, he bombarded them with radiation, frying the alien substance out of the man's system. Sven wasn't sure how long it took or what was happening until Niallus was shouting at him, and he twisted just in time to see a wall of sickly water rushing at him. It was all that the Eskandishman could do to shield the frail and still-healing Yasoi from it.

The wave took Sven from behind and hammered him facefirst into the muck. He swallowed the foul water and ate dirt, slamming his head and shoulder on a sharp rock. For a moment, the edges of his vision greyed and he very nearly didn't come back up. Then, a series of screams pierced the hazy veil: it was Esmii. She was in trouble. She needed him. That was why he was here. Sven broke the surface, dazed, bleeding and vomiting into the morass even as it retreated. He staggered and nearly collapsed. "Go," he panted desperately at the man he and Niallus had saved. [color=385403]"Crawl, stumble, run if you can."[/colour] He thought of the yasoi word. "Yash!" he entreated. "Yash!"

---

After surviving the tidal wave, they only suffered minor injuries. It was at that moment he was under attack once more. A portal opens up directly above "Oh, come on." rubble and other things came through attempting to bury the Eskandishman.

Niallus drew in manas, opening his mouth slightly a faint orange glow emitting from it. Combining Chemical to his upcoming Arcane. He inhaled before unleashing his built-upon in a magnificent breath attack, hoping to incinerate the debris. The incinerator method seemed to work for a while, however, a sharp piece of debris stabbed him in his shoulder. The sharp pain he felt, made him break his concentration and caused him to stop casting his breath attack. With no offence, a stone struck him in the face, bringing him to one knee, and then he got a barraging assault upon him, burying him under all the rubble.

It wasn't long before Niallus dug himself out, he coughed up some mud that he swallowed, wiping his mouth with his arm. Having sensed what was around him. Someone's manas was faint as if they were in danger. It was Esmii."Sven, your beloved is in trouble." He said to his countryman. Following what Hadric mentioned to Niallus and Sven. Niallus made his way back to the ruins, from where he and Sven rescued Hadric. It didn't take him long to get across the landscape back to the ruins. He looked around the ruins, trying to find the tallest, stable ruin that he could stand on.

Once he stood on top of the tall ruins, he could get somewhat of a view of the swamp, and in the distance, he could see the monster. There was the one question: How was he going to lure it towards him? From looking at it from a distance, it seemed to be a powerful predator. It'll likely come if it smells something that's weakened or injured. That was it. If he could get it to smell the blood of a freshly injured target, it could come over. But there was nothing for him to use, but himself. This was foolish, but it could be effective.
He groaned at this idea. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." He mumbled to himself. He pulled a knife out from the side of his boot and drew manas his plan to cut the palm of his hand, then use Chemical to increase to potency of the smell of his blood and use Kinetic to create a breeze to carry the scent of his wound to the monster in an attempt it to bring it over.

---

The monster carved its way to the Eskandishman. No longer limited by damaged limbs or glue, it took in the energy from the dispelled stasis assault on it and the stockpile its appendages deep underground, causing them to momentarily go inert, had taken during its stay to perform a mighty leap.

The seismic aftershock was felt massively by those close by, and a mighty shadow would be cast upon the group. The large monster then descended onto Niallus like an arrow, fast and accurate. The subsequent impact prompted a ripple - or rather a massive circle-shaped wave, this time with an immense amount of rubble to go with it.

Meanwhile, Hadric had found his shed. What was he planning?

Stood on top of the ruin, it seemed that his plan to bring the monster to him seemed to work, almost a little too well. Seeing it first hand, charge then leap into the air in an attempt crush him. It moved so agile for something of its size. Niallus almost didn't have time to plan. Drawing in his manas, he needed something strong to hit this thing. Summoning an Arcane Lance ready, he knew it wouldn't be enough to stop the creatures divebomb. With some focus he channeled the power into the VOID into his lance. He didn't have time to properly charge, so instead wmhe increased his throwing capability by using Kinetic. The lance shot up after the target it made contact, but it only halted it's momentum. Noticing this Niallus jumped down from where he was stood he didn't have.

---

The fight broke out between the students of Ersand'Enise and the monster, Niallus wanted to jump right into the fight. He was held back by his friend Sven. Insisting that Niallus should be healed from the ailment that was affecting him. Niallus didn't argue with him, accepting his friend's help. Sven's magic flooded Niallus' system, eventually curing him of what was in his system; it probably would be best not to get hit or infected by that thing again.

The battle continued, seeing that Esmii was in danger as she was being targeted. Niallus defended her. Using magics of Kinetic and Arcane to help, but it only left him as a target, as once he defended Esmii. He became a target, and the monster began an onslaught.

The monster grabbed Niallus's leg, wrapping a bone around it, causing the Eskand to lose his balance and be lifted off the murky ground. Once off the ground, the monster slammed Niallus into the ground as if it were hitting a drum. One impact, two impacts. Over and over. Each impact to the ground leaves an echoing sound of Niallus hitting stone or water.

After it was done it threw Niallus to one side. Niallus rolled a bit before coming to a stop. Part of his body was submerged in swamp water. His vision was blurry and disoriented. Heavy wheezes escaped his bloody lips. Some of his ribs were most likely broken or shattered; more likely, a few other bones were broken, and an organ ruptured.

Two sets of footsteps were approaching him. It was Esmii and Sven. He turned his head as they approached . "Sven, Esmii when you start a family. Can you name your firstborn after me?" he mused, his voice was weak and shallow. Esmii trying to help Niallus. "Shh, quiet now, save your strength. "This monster shall die before you, bro." Sven gritted his teeth. "Long before."

Niallus felt his body slowly begin to be reconstructed under the influence of Esmiis's magic. She must have put more power into it as his body began to heal rapidly. It took some time for him to get to his feet. His legs were wobbly, but once he was up, he swayed ever so slightly.

After a few moments of him getting back into the fight. Niallus saw Ingrid hit by a dark bolt, then she was gone. Ingrid! he shouted, his arm extended in the direction he last saw her. His eyes followed the person who did it. It was Xiuyang. A fury burst from Niallus, Manas surging to his command. An arcane lance burst to life. And he threw it at Xiuyang without hesitation. Shortly after he threw it, she faded away, and his lance missed as it sailed off into the distance.

At that moment the monster used this opportunity to attack Niallus while he was distracted. A vine raced towards him striking him in the chest, impaling him. There was a small amount of pain that was overcome by numbness. Niallus coughed blood, his hand loosened the grip on his Arcane sword, eventually letting go. His mana couldn't contain itself, and the magical sword faded away. There was more; he felt something invading his system. Was it the thing that he had before that Sven cured? The vine slowly pulled itself out of his chest, his breathing became weaker and weaker, and eventually, he collapsed backwards.

---

*Thump, Thump*
*Thump, Thump*

The only sound that Niallus could hear was his heartbeat. Not even the noises of what was happening around him. Not even people's voices. Perhaps the fight had moved to a different location, or perhaps he got moved. This void was all that remained.

The last thing that he saw, that he felt was the vines impaling him. Niallus felt sheer agony as the vines spread poison all over his entire body.

There were more muffled noises this time, but this one managed to break through; he could hear this loud and clear. Hearing another sound echo through the air. He knew this. It was a gunshot. Perhaps Desmond was opening fire on the monster.

Goosebumps began to crawl over his skin. Was it his body warning him that he was in danger? It was likely that he didn't have long to act, so he did. His eyes opened, and with a burst of energy, he rose to his feet. Time was short, the adrenaline that he was feeling from this sensation, time seemed to wrap around him.

Using Kinetic he lifted a good amount of water around his person and then held it in place. Adding Chemical to the water, in the mad attempt to make the suspended water around him into a gelatinous substance. It wouldn't be enough, to stop a bullet. He needed it to be stronger. In an attempt to increase the density of the gelatine, a sharp pain erupted from his body. He had been through so much already, and he was pushing it to its limit. This forceful push made him lose focus causing it to waver. However, it was too late.

It was not Edyta's job to heal. That was for the Dordians and, yet, she had been trained as a healer. Healers took an oath. She knew little of Niallus. He was Eskandish. He was brash and bold and she'd heard tell that he dabbled in Dark Magic. Perhaps this was his comeuppance. Perhaps Mother Oraff now called to him, but Edyta did not think so. Cawuio-Zast had been a wicked man, through and through. Niallus was just a young and handsome fool.

Nobody had ever accused Edyta of being sentimental except, jokingly, dear Tommy. Was it an excess of sentimentality that drove her Niallus' way? Was it an excess of sentimentality that caused her to lower her guard and, in the middle of battle, prioritize the life of another - a lesser weapon - over her own?

Was it an excess of sentimentality that caused her to miss the bullet hurtling towards her - it had come from nowhere, hadn't it!?

"Niallus," she breathed, "Be still, stay awake. I will heal you." She was just reaching out to do so when it hit. So much natural instinct had been drilled into a nine-year-old girl that a seventeen-year-old one dodged instinctively and with uncanny speed, but it was not enough. The bullet hit and, before her mind could even process it, her body knew that it had been struck. It was not fatal. It wouldn't be fatal, but... the blood was barely visible as it stained the red robes below her right shoulder. She bit back a cry of pain, not willing to be a liability to the others, and gritted her teeth.

They say that the fond moments of your life meld together one last time before you pass. That was true. Laid in the waters his head just out of the water to breathe, which wasn't doing much for the young Eskandishman. His chest hardly moved, his breathing was weak and wheezy. His mind gave him fond memories of the people who were important to him. Hearing the sound of footsteps approaching him brought him out of his trance. A part of him guessed that the person who was approaching him was Hjem, the Eskandr Warden of Food, Drink and Parental Love. Was she here to collect his wayward soul?

The person came next to him, his vision was so blurred that he could only make out an outline of them. Hearing their voice, It was Edyta Laska. He didn't have much of an opinion of her. Sure they spent time in various encounters. He respected her as a person. Seeing the figure jerk in pain was an indication that she was shot too. He tried to speak, but all that came out was just a weak wheeze. He wanted to get up, he wanted to help, but his body didn't respond.

Niallus had regained consciousness some time. Unfortunately, his body was still unable to move, so he couldn't do anything but watch. Nonetheless, he was glad to be alive, thanks to Laska. He was able to look at the others and what was unfolding among them. Move damn it. He thought as he tried to move, but nothing happened. He spotted the flash of light, then the other that was a person moving to finish Desmond. "Laska... come closer." Once close, Niallus whispered "Attack the one that's closing in on Desmond, but you'll need to catch it off guard." then gave her a little nod.

Edyta could feel the life dripping out of her body: a sacrifice to Mother Eshiran, willingly given, as were all things. What a stupid thing. She could've dropped. She'd have been between words and safe.

Niallus would've died.

She didn't even know him and, from what she'd heard, he was a man of inconstant character, prone to pride and anger, eager to dabble in the dark magics that brought much more pain to the world than good. Jełop! She coughed. Stupid. Trying to be a hero. You're not a hero.

---

Greyspace
He had been about to die - if he was not already dead - and she had saved him. Edyta had grabbed Niallus' hand and disappeared into greyspace. Is it a sin to serve two masters? She could not know and she did not have time to ruminate on it. Ahn-Eshiran and Oraff-Zept were both among the Pentad, so surely they could not exist in opposition to each other. Surely, helping the one wasn't necessarily slighting the other. Edyta did not want to break her oath. Oaths were what kept the world bound in civilization, Father Bartek had once told her with a pained face, as if he were not sure that he believed it.

She did not have time to ruminate on it.

Niallus was... conscious, in a sense. She could feel it in his hand as she held it. She spared a glance his way as they moved through the shadows of spaces. They moved and she navigated as only she knew, as she had been doing for almost ten years.

Then, she stopped. Beneath her feet was mud. There was nearly dried mud, with a hint of red clay soil, and she knew it. There was a scent as well, and her very sense of reality prickled at it: apple and pear blossoms, in Stresia, by the creek in Bynowice. She shook her head to clear it, but how vivid it was. She shook her head. "...Niallus." He was coming to. She could ask him if he felt the dirt or smelled the flowers; she could ask him and be sure.

But she could not.

If they weren't real, he would think that she was crazy. Perhaps it was a trick of the demon she had sensed, but... The last time that she had seen dear Father Bartek, when they had spoken at length of mundane things, he had asked her if she was 'seeing' yet. She hadn't known or understood. He'd merely nodded and looked lonely for a minute. "Well, you'll see sooner or later," he'd told her, "we all do. Speak to me immediately once that happens." She'd been unsettled. She'd thought him mad, but perhaps this was what he'd meant.

Then, there was a voice humming and she knew it too: her sister Marta, and the tune was Oj chmielu, the wedding song. It was Marta and Edyta had not seen her in seven years, not since that one Caldores when she'd been back with her new husband and son and the young Rezaindian had been given leave to see her family. Marta, who'd raised her almost like a second mother. How her heart ached for Marta and she wondered if she might hear Piotr, and Jacek, and Joanna.

Niallus was heavy, even though her magic was moving him. Then, he twitched. "Niallus," she entreated, "Are you okay?"

He'll think you're mad.

No he won't. It's a simple question!

"Did you hear something?"

Soon, they could leave. Soon. They could return to the real world and face whatever awaited them there. Perhaps the others needed their help, it occurred to Edyta. Perhaps they should go back this very moment, but Niallus was still only just beginning to move and, on some level, she did not want to.

Niallus was starting to come too. His muscles tensed and then relaxed as he was starting to move. The hand that was holding Laskas gave her a little squeeze. Upon waking up properly, the first thing he saw was Laska. The last thing that he remembered seeing was a bright flash from the beginning of the storm. "I'm fine. Thank you." He said, smiling at her.

For a moment he tilted his head raising an eyebrow. "I'll have a listen." a few moments pass, he shakes his head. "Sorry Laska I." then he heard it. "I hear humming, faint humming." whatever it was, from Laskas expression she wanted to investigate. So did he. "I want to recover a bit more before heading back to our reality." He took a few steps in front of her then continued."So how about we investigate that sound. You look like you want too."

"Stay still for a moment." Niallus was back and Edyta had the good sense to stop and search his energies for signs of anything dangerous. She pulled back and she blinked almost immediately.

He looked at her and she looked at him and then she ripped her hand free of his. Were there energy to draw within greyspace, she'd have done it. He was twice her size but still woozy. And yet... he seemed agreeable enough.

"Freshman year, at the Trials, who was your Zeno and what did you steal from him and wreck?" Edyta's heart hammered and her mind raced. His mana was... completely different - completely wrong. Inside of him was... the bog monster, but... not exactly. Are those even manas!? she wondered, prying deeper into them with her energy sense. There were millions of them in his bloodstream, propagating endlessly, and they had supplanted - or perhaps fused with - his original manas, but they had also done something greater: he should've died from his wounds but, even now, she could sense the little symbiotes healing him. They were healing him, but would they also try to control him?

The rezaindian waited warily, ready to drop back into realspace at any moment. She swallowed and searched his eyes, his stance, his biochemicals, as alien as they now were. Then, there they were again: the voices, but this time, they were coupled with the distinct feeling that there was a hill beyond Niallus and, over the crest of it, would be home and the source of them.

She blinked again to try to clear her head. "Well?" she demanded impatiently.

When Laska asked him to stay still. Niallus was confused at her request at first. Perhaps there's an injury on his person that she noticed. "Is there something wrong? What is the matter?" He asked her, confused by how she was staring at him.

Her question was rather easy to answer, but given how she was looking at him, mixed with her impatientness he would have to give her an answer. The correct one. "It was Secto. And i didn't steal his stagecoach, I borrowed it." He shot back at her "It wasn't my fault that it ended up being destroyed. We just didn't have a plan to land it safely." Feeling his confusion getting the better of him he asked. "Laska, is something wrong?"

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, but then she nodded tightly. "My name: what is it?" the nun demanded, scanning him again. There was a taint of the VOID, but perhaps it was just because he'd dabbled in the dark arts, like all too many Eskandish. "You're infected with something. It's kept you alive, but it could own you, and completely." Her response was the most basic of courtesies.

His eyebrow arched confused by her. But he responded to her. "Your name is Edyta, Edyta Laska." It was odd for him to say her actual name. He was so used to saying her surname.

Hearing her explain that he's infected with something. He immediately asked her. "And you are asking this question. to me to see if I'm still me. Correct?" He had no reason to not believe what Laska was saying to him, why would she lie to him. If she wanted to she could have just left him here to his fate. But from what she said. He scanned his body. There was something there. Living inside of him. Remembering the injuries that he suffered. Being inpaled by vines. The gunshot that hit him in the chest. No normal person could survive all that.

"What should I do? What can i do?" He asked.

Edyta began walking as she spoke, on toward Niallus, towards the hill that she knew was there. She could feel the mud, and when she deviated slightly from the path, the grass beneath her shoes. She could feel the pull of gravity as she began to make her way uphill. It was all so real.

"Live," she responded simply, "with whatever time you have." She shrugged, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder as she did so. "Live as long as you're you. Be watchful of what lives inside you." Always, that was her credo in life.

The voices weren't any closer. She crested the hill and... there was no hill. There was nothing to see beyond it. Perhaps she should stay, but first... "Aside from your greenish pallor, you appear well enough to return to reality."

Am I?

"Allow me to send you back?"

Niallus listened to Laska's advice that she offered to him. How much time did he have left that was the question. The other question was, what happens when it takes over? For now, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. Live in the now. "Thank you Edyta." He said with a smile.

As he took a look to try to get some detail of the area around him. He was about to say something about his new tint of green skin. Then he froze, a voice he heard. It didn't come from Laska. The sensation of hearing it made his skin crawl. Was he losing control of himself already?

The moment she pulled her hand away, there was silence. The voices and the humming he once heard was gone. "Did you..." He stopped himself. Trying to regain his composure, but struggling. When she mentioned sending him back, he spoke. "No wait. Can you give me your hand for a moment?" his hand held open for her. There was an idea that came to him. This was needed to test it "Trust me."

Edyta Laska's face was a study in wariness and, had she been able to draw energy in this place, Niallus might've felt the prickling sensation of a complete draw. After a moment, however, she held her hand out. It was small and dainty, with long slender fingers that seemed almost... delicate, but that was belied by the rough skin and callouses. It was a young woman's hand, but also a peasant's and a warrior's. Her eyes flicked up to his for a moment. "What is it?" she asked cautiously.

"Something interesting." Niallus took her hand with his. It was soft and gentle. Immediately, the sensations that she previously mentioned all came back to the Eskand at once. The sounds, the smells, all of it. The sensation felt something similar to breaking the surface of water, after being submerged for so long.

"You asked me if I could hear something." with his grip on her soft hands, the connection became stronger. "It seems that I can only hear and sense other things when I'm in direct contact with you." lifting their joined hands.

I'm the source of it, then. I'm creating it. Edyta furrowed her brow, businesslike, and nodded, pulling her hand away. "Thank you," she said quickly. "I think I'm the source of it, but there's someone I can talk to." She took a breath and released it, ignoring the sounds and sensations of home and family. "We should be getting back now. Who can say what kind of trouble the others might be in." She reached again, expectantly, for his hand.

When Laska let go of his hand. The sound of silence returned to Niallus once more. "You are welcome." He said to her taking a breath. "If you need help on this, you can ask me. It's the least I can do. After all, you did save my life, twice."

There was some hesitation in him for answering her about wanting to return. What if he loses control the moment he steps out of the greyspace. Swallowing that fear that was building up. He could only do what Laska suggested. Live. If it wasn't for him being infected, he would be dead. He gives her a nod taking hold of her hand once more. Ignoring the sounds and sensations Laska was emitting. "Yes."

They came back into the world just as the worst seemed to have ended. Roslyn was nearby, having killed something hideous. others were in various states of battered, bruised, and burnt, but all seemed more or less alive and already healed. So it was. So it seemed to have ended... or had it?

---

The rotten seed within Sven gurgled and cackled at the display of heroism that had hampered its unceremonious slaughter of the Yasoi fool. "A miracle it truly is-" the "Sven" raised his arms up in a Y-posture in jubiliation. His grin nearly matched that of the one that had its way with Ingrid deeper in the marshes. Blood began to pour out of his nostrils like he had just been struck there. Then his eyes, and ears and pores. Like a severely damaged pipe, he oozed off the dark red ichor, soon coming with chunks of flesh-like matter. This continued until he drowned in a contained pool of the stuff.

And from all this blood came the form of a large - twice the height of Sven himself and considerably larger - red creature. Grotesque did not begin to describe it. It looked like a morbidly obese man with flappy breasts, veins protruding out of its sides, a folded naval, and legs that were almost entirely consumed by that gut. And its head, not yet taken by the red folds of the horrible monster, lacked eyes but as it "peered" down at the humans that had come to Esmii's aid, they could just *feel* it staring at that. Clumps of hair were present on its bony scalp, and its mouth, perpetually agape, made with a tongue that rolled down to the tip of its toes. "-that fools such as thou have lived this long!" a distorted voice blurted out, fat arms risen as were Sven's in celebration.

As it lowered its girthy appendages, the right hand found itself wielding a massive butcher's cleaver made entirely of the same stuff that had just formed it. Once again, without mercy, it cast its wicked hatred upon Esmii with a downward slash of its weapon upon her.

The more observant of the bunch could notice the beast's belly was not entirely opaque - a tad bit of light revealed *something* inside the beast. Further sensing would recognize the shape of a person.

Watching his friend turn into a grotesque blob. His stomach churned, and his spine tingled. Was this still the effects of the Grey space that he and Laska were in a little while ago? It mattered not.

When the monster raised its weapon, ready to cut down the beloved of the original person of where that monster stood. Niallus rushed across the water to the Yasoi's aid. He drew in Manas, a lot of Manas. He created a strong barrier of Kinetic energy, to absorb and stop the attack. "Quickly get yourself healed Esmii."

The mighty cleaver descended, smashing into Niallus' barrier of "kinetic energy", vague as it was difficult to keep in its formless state. The barrier shattered but struck Niallus with an aftershock while Esmii could just barely sneak away once her spine had been made operational enough. The foul, crimson axe was yanked out of the fissured ground after the fact and a mocking gurgle was dedicated to the flock of sacrifices.

Then came the nun's frost. This time the demon did not just idly take punishment. In its inactive, fat hand was formed an identifical cleaver from its very flesh and blood. With a singular jab downward, the spreading, red corrupting clashed with the ice, preventing further progress. This did blind it - in spite of its missing eyes - the shot to its belly. The bullet merely ... Bounced off the fat abdomen. A strange result, one that wasn't caused by the thick layers of meat and red ichor but instead by a constant focus the monster had in channelling unseen layers of heat and air around its belly and head. If they were going to pierce through, they'd have to break its focus or stance somehow.

With a giant belch, the demon jubilantly rushed for the group with reckless abandon.

The demon was tough. He was, after all, a legendary tier five. Edyta did not have the time to think about which of the three this was. Screamer? Eater? Sacrifice? She threw a shield of half-formed stone up between her and a mighty blow, phasing into greyspace for but a second and coming out a few yards away from where she'd plunged in.

Screamer? Eater? Sacrifice!? She could smell her mother's pierogies, on the holidays when they could cook them. She could hear the sizzle of the frying pan and the chiming of the church bells.

In and out of reality, in more than one way. Then Niallus was cleaved nearly in half and she began rushing over to heal him, but he did not need her rescuing this time. He... healed in the most uncanny way, and she steered clear. Is it you we shall have to fight next?She prayed it would not be, but then she saw it: an opening as the demon raised an arm. The moment that she released her cryogenic spell, she could tell, just by muscle memory, that it had misfired. Yet, it struck true and blasted an arm clean off.

Edyta was usually not one to question gifts from the Eshiran. She'd been granted many already. Still, she'd felt herself get the formula partially wrong. She knew her spells!

It had hit, and she supposed that was all that matytered. Esmii was recovered as well, and a great boon, and Edyta was glad of it. She was glad of it but for the lingering feeling of unease in her stomach. Screamer... eater...

Oh no.Niallus got back up, with the blood of this thing in his veins. His left arm became distorted, bigger. With the others attacking it, causing it to stagger. Niallus stood in front of it. From hearing his friend's voice echoing from its gut. With his super powered left arm he gripped its stomach. "Time to die. You piece of shit." In a swift movement of his arm. His fingers dug into it, breaking the skin. Then he ripped it. A huge chuck of its flesh came off in his hand. Blood and guts came out of it like a river, covering Niallus from head to toe. The Eskandishman however was unfazed by this brutal act as he dug his friend out

# Blood Pool
Niallus dug his mutated arm into the bulging demon, twisting and burrowing his digits in there. With enough force, the gurgling and laughing monster began to shriek in horrendous pain. Blood burst out with immense pressure, until a massive fissure formed in the center of the belly.

Laska stood idle, unconvinced this was the end. Something was wrong.

"The sac- No, wait. Wait!"

She was just about ready to spring into action when the massive, red zit finally exploded in a wave of blood before the stoic Niallus. The monster fell back, arms raised in jubilation as the cleaves faded into dust. Out came the shape of a person in foetal position, in the centre of the massive splatter of blood where once stood the fat bloodgorger.

**He-Help me pleashe ...**

They heard, initially coming from the middle of that bloody ground zero.

**My friendsh, pleashe saaaave meeee ...**

The voice, it wasn't as clear this time, or rather its origins weren't. It felt like it was higher than it should be, and to the East.

Niallus, on the other hand, could barely register anything. His body was not taking kindly to this new symbiotic invasion. He fell to his knees, body burning up inside and his limbs unresponsive, barely a few meters from the person he had freed.

**Heeeee HEEEEEEEE!**

The voice from higher up cackled. Then, its progenitor looked down at them with a massive, obscene smile. Its form was all black and made of tar, limbs far too long and its eyes pure yellow.

**Youuuuuu did weeeelllllll!!!**

It just stayed there, on a tree, gawking at both the humans and the individual lying in the muddle of bloodgorger's blood.

Niallus fell to his knees, even though the nerves worryingin had been severely dulled in this state of, whatever it was. It seemed it had a toll. He wanted to check the body next to him, check if it was his friend, but his body was unresponsive. He began to breathe heavily, exhausted.

Niallus simply knelt there the pain he was suffering seemed to subside. The only problem was that he couldn't move. When the person that was next to himt up. All of the muscles in his body demanded only one thing to do.

Ru.

He tried his best but his body felt too heavy, unable to move. At best, he was able to raise his head so he could see the face of the person who was originally next to him. From how he was, it was like he was kneeling in respect, but at this moment. He was awaiting judgment.

The Evil Smile relished in the Pandemonium. And once carte blanche was given by hiseminence, the impossibly thin and slimy creature flexed its legs and propelled itself at speeds that rivalled Desmond's exciting escape. The Magusjaeger had made it through the portal, but not the others.

"IN. MY. BELLY!!!!!!!" its massive maw was unhinged and the endless abyss of the Smiler's gullet awaited them. Except, it wasn't going for any individual, but rather the portal itself!

As Niallus knelt there at the mercy of the Demon, he realized that no one was going to help him this time. It felt natural, always having to help others, but now no one was there for him. Or maybe they got tired of helping him. Either way, He felt pitiful and insignificant compared to his predecessors' accomplishments. Despite believing that his life lessons and mistakes would make him a better person. Now it feels like nothing but a lie.

As footsteps approached, Niallus saw that it was Esmii. He didn't understand why she was helping him when she had a chance to escape. Before he could say anything, she spoke and began to heal him. Esmii's healing powers enveloped Niallus, mending his wounds and revitalizing his strength, filling him with a renewed sense of hope and determination.

Looking over Esmii's shoulder, Niallus saw Evil Smile trying to eat the portal. He wanted to help, and his mana colony responded, resonating in his core. Maybe this was Oraff's way of giving him a chance to protect his friends. However, he knew that all actions in this world have consequences.
*I'm sorry my friends*

*I'm sorry Hylaeni, how I'd wish to hold you in my arms one last time*

Thinking of his friends and family, Niallus expelled some of the manas and dashed towards Evil Smile. The manas stored in his body multiplied rapidly, and he conjured not one, but multiple Arcane Swords into reality. Void energy flooded from his system, coating the blades of light with dark energy. As he swung both swords, void energy rippled from the swing as if it was eagerly wanting to strike Evil Smile. The air crackled with power as the Arcane Swords sliced through the darkness, aiming to vanquish the malevolent force threatening the portal and his companions. The moment was intense, filled with a mix of fear and determination, as Niallus unleashed his full power to protect those he cared for.

Evil Smile was a scourge of life on Sipenta. He had appeared seven times within recorded history and, on each occasion, had been responsible for thousands of deaths. In one instance, the tier five demon had swallowed the armada of Stathicles the Redeemed and singlehandedly caused the downfall of his Great Thalak Empire. On three other occasions, he had directly brought about the coming of Belthagor, Grand Demon of Arrogance and one of the Three Kings of Hell.

This time, he was about to die, and his death toll was only in the hundreds.

The demon's beady eyes widened. He tried to reel back out of the way, but it was going to be too little, too late. A being of this power, taken down by one man!? It felt like some scarce-believable myth of old. "Master, I am lost!" he wailed, perhaps not nearly as pathetic as he sounded, but aware that appealing to Belthagor's immense pride was the best course.

The Grand Demon cared not for his minion, however. Evil Smile had served his purpose and there was a deliciously dramatic woman in front of him: Sven's beloved. It was time to make her disappear. There was a second: a moth drawn to his flame, and a potentially useful one. His magic overpowering hers, he reeled her in.

So, Evil Smile did all that was within his power. His jaws spread wider, his eyes glowed and, from the near-endless void of his gut came demon after demon of the second, third, and even fourth tiers. They spilled into the world, released from the monster who had consumed them, and set upon Niallus.

A dozen or more fell immediately to his mighty strike, but there were still more and Evil Smile remained, as yet, alive and barreling towards the others!

With the Demon that he attacked recoiling and wanting to keep his distance from this Eskandishman. Demons erupted from Evil Smile's gut. Those demons were grand and diverse. They all charged at Niallus all willing to give their lives to put him down for their master.

Niallus stood ready, ready to strike. He was done holding back; the way his mana surged with newfound power, it seemed that he couldn't hold back now. One demon recklessly charged ahead of the others. Wanting the honour of killing Niallus. The demon soared off the ground towards him. Niallus was not given an inch, standing his ground. Swiftly stepping to the side of the demon's trajectory. Following it up, Niallus' Void Sword cut straight through the demon's neck, removing it from his shoulders. The body flopped to the floor behind Niallus as he wasted little time as some other demons continued their advance on him. Niallus let go of his concentration on one of his swords, causing it to fade from reality. Grabbing the leg of the one he just decapitated. Swinging its body as a club with kinetic energy. The corpse collided with the closest one. A sickening thud was heard as the demon's bodies crashed into one another. Even loud enough to mask the sound of demon bones breaking. Not wasting time Niallus stamped on the demon's head with the sheer force of his foot, crushing its skull.

This was getting him nowhere, as he could see more and more demons were coming out of Evil Smile's gut. That was his target. Not these distractions. The third one charged, Niallus, responded with an advance of his own, not backing down. The demon swung its heavy, in an attempt to behead the Eskandishman. Niallus slid on his knees, avoiding the demon's attack only just. Bringing his last Void Sword into the gut of the demon. Blood splattered everywhere, but Niallus didn't break focus. Like a great hunter, he was determined to get his prey. Small scratches that he had received, instantly recovered. You are not getting away. he thought as he gave chase to Evil Smile.

"You think you can take me on so easily!?" the demon taunted, his great maw opening to truly disgusting dimensions. "Up until now, I've only been using a mere five percent of my power. Now, let's see how you fare against my... BITING BLAST!"

From his mouth erupted a colossal beam of energy so powerful that it turned the very air around it into unstable plasma, that reality itself seemed to waver, and this was headed straight for the portal and the others!

However, it had left an opening. Niallus would have to choose: block the gargantuan attack or kill Evil Smile and let it hit?

Seeing that he had the opportunity to attack and kill Evil Smile, Niallus wanted to. But the urge to keep his friends protected took a higher priority. Niallus dashed across the boggy marsh his Manas heeded his call once more. He was going to need a lot to stop this attack. Hardening the air in front of him as he stood in waiting for the eye of the storm to connect. Void energy flooded from his system, strengthening his barrier.

The beam clashes with his barrier. The sheer force of the impact pushed Niallus further and further back. His feet kicked up muddy mass while they scraped across the surface. The edges of his void kinetic barrier began to warp, was it failing? Then parts began to splinter away. His arms burned from the sheer heat of the attack even the skin on his forearms and parts of his face began to feel it, his nerves screaming in sheer agony from this chaos. His body did its best to hold back the injuries, healing him to some degree, but even that was slowly faulting as the damage was just outpacing it.

He gritted his teeth, trying to hold his own. Digging deep into his very core, using whatever he could spare and worry about the consequences later. His magical defence was struggling, but it was able to hold some amount of the power that Evil Smile used in his attack. Niallus didn't have long before he'd lose control of the magic that he held. Pouring what Manas was left of his defence spell and some more from his system. He manipulated what he had into an Arcane Lance. He could feel his grip on slipping rapidly from the sheer density of magic. He aimed at Evil Smile, and threw it with all his might. The lance shot off, making a straight shot to Evil Smile.

The demon was winning, his beady little eyes wide with cruel glee as he savoured Niallus' impending annihilation. Then came the Eskandishman's counterattack. He shouldn't have been able to counter like that. No human should've! Evil Smile's eyes widened some more, if that was possible, but in fear this time.

A river of pure burning light and heat burst through the middle of the vendemon's beam of darkness, racing up its length and right into the mouth of Evil Smile. At the last moment, he tried to flinch away.

It was too late.

The arcane lance punched through his mouth with a meaty, sizzling 'pop!' and then out his back, melting him from the inside. The demon let out a sick gurgling wail, wavered for a moment where he stood, and fell forward, smoking. There was a tremor that came up through Niallus' boots, and the few who had not yet passed through the portal twisted for a second, feeling it as well.

Evil Smile was dead.

Belthagor floated there in repose, beautiful and terrifying, his face an expressionless mask of thought. Then, he scowled. "Sorry, old friend. You were weaker than I thought." He alighted upon the ground and, immediately, where his feet met it, it began to burn with unholy fire.

Certainly, Esmii tried with all of her strength. Roslyn did what she might, but their attacks did not so much as reach him, dissipating yards away. Belthagor walked toward Niallus without breaking his stride, the latter of the two dragged by invisible chains in his wake. "You," he admitted, "are stronger than I thought."

The grand demon opened his mouth and a milky grey-white smoke began curling out of it, spreading quickly and reaching for all three of the others.

After the colossal lance of light and heat streaked across the gap between himself and his target. Niallus felt something off in his system as if this counterattack had taken from his very core. He gave a triumphant chuckle as his shot in the dark, his final stand against Evil Smile, came to an end.

When the demon collapsed to the floor dead, the shockwave that was caused made Niallus drop to his knees. His breathing is rapid and shallow. I didn't think I'd be able to pull that off... his mind screamed. His arms were covered in burns and blisters. His newfound healing abilities seemed to be working on repairing the damaged cells in his forearms. It wasn't as rapid as the previous injuries, was he reaching his limit of it?

Hearing a voice only uttering a single word, he immediately lifted his head. As if he knew he was the one the voice was talking to. The Grand Demon was slowly approaching him. His two friends, Roslyn and Esmii, are dragged behind him against their own will. Niallus had already been through so much. Killing strong demons. But a Grand Demon. Impossible. When the Grand Demon spoke to him, Niallus saw unholy smoke leave the demon's mouth. The Eskandishman couldn't move. He was at his mercy, feeling the smoke slowly creep up his body. It crept into his mouth, filling his lungs. Every corner of his being was engulfed by smoke. His mind was being invaded by the Demons will. He tried to keep it at bay. But it wasn't successful.

*Submit to me*

The voice invading his head commanded. Pain consumed his body. His body, his skin bent to his will. This was something that Niallus wasn't going to escape from. All of his personality slowly ripped from him. His likes are gone. The memories of his friends, one by one, each one was ripped away. The last memory that was left to go was his dear Yasoi, Hylaeni. He desperately tried to keep her in his thoughts, but it was also gone.

---

---

---

The dark tunnel with shallow, unscented waters grew darker as the collapsing magma lagged more and more behind the desperate tunneler. Whatever had attacked them had either lost Xiuyang or had changed its attention to something else. Still, even with limited range, the Revidian could still sense the obscene quantities of energy being molded by that thing. It was still close and its speed promised swift retribution should it ever be reminded of her existence.

There really wasn’t much to see forward other than total blackness with constant splashing of the increasingly shallow puddles under Xiuyang’s feet. Her feet that, in a split second, no longer had hard land to step on. There was a steep, downward incline where the water, once at a high enough level, would flow down into.

It was the only way, no branching paths or manholes nearby. Lest, of course, she doubled back into the inferno.

Xiuyang proceeded blindly, spurred on by fear. If she were going to die, she wanted it to be in the arms of someone who cared, not in some distant and cold place where even the dead couldn't find rest, and the idea of being a wandering ghost was only romantic if she could actually leave this place and explore the world like she always wanted. The strangest thoughts always came to her when she was hopped up on adrenaline.

Just when she had started to ease up on her binding magic and provide her own light, her foot caught a slope, and she was sent sliding down. She threw her upper body back and reached for the ledge, which she could have only missed by about a centimeter.

"NO!!" she cried, trying to find purchase on any little crack or built-up detritus she saw.

Desperately she grasped for dear life. The bit of moistened filth she clutched upon made the sharp bend she clutched onto all the more painful and inconvenient. But she held on even without the gift to give much help in this energy poor space.

That's right, outside energy was aplenty, but without as much air current the sources were scarce, especially with limited range. A fact made all too obvious to a devourer.

Clack-Clack-Clack ...

There was something below, Xiuyang could hear it now. Inching closer to whatever her fate was going to at the bottom of this chute. Above was a ghost, below was the ominous unknown, clacking regularly like a pendulum. Surely her screams were heard, too.

It was an uncomfortable position, but one that gave her time to think. Above was a relentless, murderous being with no obvious weaknesses she could exploit as essentially a non-mage. Below was something that sounded as if it might be mechanical in nature. Whatever it was, she could have some hope that it at least physically existed.

In this dead place, something moving was either alive or related to her goal of finding the Abyssal Forge, she told herself. In fact, if it was something alive, it was probably an ally. Shoes, or perhaps... crutches. Her blood ran cold at the thought. It might be Juulet.

But also... she might have the upper hand on Juulet, under these unique circumstances. Should she risk it? It seemed as if she had do. How was she even going to climb back up, now? If only she hadn't left the talking box with the other two, she would have some guidance. She could have asked it what was below, or how to get back out. Get out... would she ever get out of here? A decision was made for her as her handhold gave way—a decision that, she hoped, was the right one.

She let go, drew her dual pistols, and faced forward, with some measure of determination.

Down the literal drain. The slide was helped by the consistent dampness of the pipe, but the darkness made the end of this ride a mystery. All of a sudden, her rear found solid ground, well solid muck in this case. Luckily, as gross as it was, it did soften any sort of impact she may have.

It did cause a loud, wet thud however, one that the clacking reacted to without fail. The rhythm had stopped for a moment before continuing.

Xiyang was inside a wider pipe-shaped interior, one with what was once a canal in the center with walkways on both sides. It was drained with only more shallow puddles here and there. Many of the diverging paths were blocked by metal bars, though some seemed rusted enough to break though.

The clacking got closer. And then ...

A whistle? A swift tune to beckon attention. It came from the right, through one of these rusted barriers. With it came a dim light that grew stronger with every tap. Brighter and brighter until a face could be seen.

Of course, it was Juulet.

“Eyyyy.”

Xiuyang swiped the bulk of the water and filth off of herself with a touch of binding. She was not going to fuss over her appearance under these circumstances, but even she had standards. She pointed her guns in the direction of the sound as it approached her.

I wouldn't have been mad if you let me be wrong this time, Shune, she thought with exasperation, lowering one gun and raising the other. She lit up the inside of the muzzle to create a directed beam of light, with less mana or concentration than such a thing would otherwise take.

She loathed this woman—this creature—with every fiber of her being. Yet, if the voice in the mysterious box was to be believed, if not fully trusted, all their lives were threads tangled together into one big knot right now, and she would only bring harm to herself or possibly Yuli or Seviin if she failed to protect her archenemy.

But.

She couldn't let this chance get away from her. This was a chance to speak her mind, just this one time.

"Being behind bars suits you. It's a good look."

The constant tapping that echoed through the sewers was the butt of the spear Juulet had been using to drag her one-legged self through the once rancid maze. There was a small orb of light hovering over her should revealing disheveled look that matched Xiuyang's.

“Well fuck you too.” rebutted Juulet after cocking her eyebrows, her voice unchanged from her normal. Then a pause as she gave a quick head-to-toe brush of the Revidian's form with her violet gaze. “Although, honestly, who is the real trapped rat here.”

The Yasoi grimaced as she assessed the bars. A couple of taps from her spear had some of the rest strip off and with it some of the bars. “So much for high security. Dami be blessed.” the blade grinded against the metal, slowly eating through the barrier that separated the two opposite personalities.

“So, how did you end up alone this time? I thought we were all in groups.”

No comment about Xiuyang being flushed down the drain like sewer rat shit. It was almost disappointing, like watching her tremble in fear of death by a demon was less satisfying than Xiuyang had imagined. Though, she had pretended that she'd found it amusing, just like she pretended that she was okay after what happened in Yarsoc, lest her father whisper in the Doge's ear about some "retribution" or other. "Ambushed by one of those 'ghosts.' Got separated."

The arm holding her raised pistol faltered. Was her rumored aberration madness held at bay? Was this the real Juulet? "Sorry. I'm scared too," she gambled. "I can't let you kill me without one last zinger. But I was going to ask you the same. What idiot left you on your own, like this? Even if a fraction of your power is still a lot, if one of us dies, it sounds like we'll all suffer the consequences."

Juulet sucked in both her cheeks, forcing her lips to pucker up. “Spooky.” was her answer to the mention of specters roaming among them. Her attention seemed to be more on the bars she was chipping through. She was getting there, though it wasn't easy with only one leg and a tool that wasn't made for this purpose. Alone. More than once, after a light grunt of annoyance, did she shoot an expectant look at Xiuyang.

“A fish dumped me here.” it was her turn to answer, and still the nonchalance remained. “And the sun itself was a bit more whipped than I had thought.” she chuckled, leaning her shoulder to the cold stone for a quick break. “Toooooo be fair, there was a headless burly monster about to kill us all.” again with the cheek sucking, only one this time. “Honestly? I'd do the fucking same. Doesn't make me less upset, though.” said the remarkably unbothered Vyshta wannabe, now back to work. The barrier was nearly down.

“Is that what's keeping you from shooting my brains out?” Juulet canted her head, letting her dark and dirtied locks fall to one side. “You definitely looked poised to do so, 'till Shune gave you your brains back.”

"I'm watching what's behind you. I'd hope you're doing the same," Xiuyang retorted. "...So you were with Leon and one of his many mistresses, I take it. I came with Seviin and Yuliya. Did you keep that talking box, or does Leon have it?"

As Juulet's solo prison break neared completion, Xiuyang nodded at her less than subtle request for help. "Back up a bit. I can break it now."

Xiuyang gathered what energy she could—to erect a small sonic bubble around the barricade. No, she broke the bars one by one with consecutive, ordinary kicks. Zeno Sectoxomactex would be proud.

Juulet complied after a loud snort from her nostrils, hopping a few ways back and hardly flinching when the barrier came down. A whistle of appreciation, potentially sarcastic, was warranted. “Big and strong.” she flex the arm that wasn't bound to the spear. “I wouldn't stand a chance against you. No sirree bob.” an impish smirk found its way onto her expression.

The mad avatar hopped her way through the new passage. “No box. It stopped working when he yanked that string off a wall.” she looked around with swift turns of her head like a lemur that had just found some food. “Hmmm. I suppose you came from up, huh? Then ...” she kissed her pointer finger and pointed the opposite direction. “Lead the way? Unless you're taking me hostage.”

"So you noticed," Xiuyang replied, with equally ambiguous sarcasm. "I'm not taking you hostage. The score between us was even, remember?" Her little faux smile faded. "Never mind. You wouldn't."

Xiuyang tried to think. There had been at least one sharp bend in the pipe, so in her moment of panic, she had lost some confidence in her sense of direction. She also wasn't sure how she would be able to tell when she was underneath her destination, now that she thought of it. In other words... she was lost. Just a bit. "Think we'll get lucky and find the Forge right underneath where he told us to go?" she remarked idly, looking around.

Her light stopped moving around when she found what she was looking for: the Impact Site. Ground Zero. The most well-defined butt print the two girls probably ever saw. Above it was the pipe Xiuyang had fallen out of, and since the sharp curve she remembered—and she hoped it was the only one—had gone that way... "It's this way..." Xiuyang decided, avoiding Juulet's eyes.

“We had a score?” Juulet raised a brow after conferring a brief glance toward Xiuyang. “I'm hoping we don't. The box was getting uppity about that fountain. I don't want that fucko pulling a tantrum. Not until I find 'em anyway.” her shoulder rested against the spear-turned-cane as she adopted a leisurely gait to take in her surroundings. A lot of old stone and rusted pipes.

As Xiuyang pointed toward what was essentially forward, Juulet's light orb captured a set of glyphs on what was the end of this drainage room where multiple gated pipes ended, one of which was where the yasoi had come from. The scripture was not only a faded green but was a variant of Hegelan that none of them knew. Nothing less than a fluent Hegelan speaker could get an idea of it. What was clear, however, was the arrow pointing to the right.

“Surely, if it points to somewhere, it must be of SOME relevance.” she made her case, arms open in a shrug. “And if something matters, there's probably a means to get out not too far.”

Xiuyang nodded wearily. She had to admit that Juulet had more reasons to be confident in her plan. "Like I said, it's even. It's fine if you just forget about it," she said, her face a mixture of pain and a forced smile as she chose to follow Juulet's choice of direction.

"More importantly... you said the box stopped working when it was detached from the wall?" It was clear from her tone that she thought it odd. However, she was now trying to use the Gift to search the walls for anything that might be unusual about them.

“Yeah.” Juulet continued with her involuntarily slow stride toward wherever the arrow was pointing. “There was this string that Leon guy tugged off the wall and it stopped working.” her attention was on illumination, being the better arcane mage and doing things no other way.

Xiuyang was onto something. The walls had a lot of cold stone, but there were also other inconspicuous filaments that barely stood out. They were made of different materials, all of them with some metal in them. One, however, had clear energy coming from it. Strong, electrical energy that flowed rapidly. So fast, in fact, that it was hard to follow. But the wire itself was static.

Juulet was yapping on about something involving the box. Hardly of relevance, not as much as the precision needed to weed out the wires from one another and lock onto the right one. It may have caused the Revidian to miss the tonely different “Oh fuck.” from the yasoi. It was unusually quiet for how surprised it made her.

The butt of her spear tapped against the other's hip. The lighting was enough to illuminate a good ten meters in front of them, including the floor. There were bodies. Or rather skeletal remains, bones covered by fried up (but not entirely mummified) flesh and congealed blood all around them. Except for their heads and some of their extremities, the latter other missing or covered in multiple layers of some old, multi-coloured fabric - rather, each was of a different colour. The head was different, it had nothing, but most appeared mummified or downright 'fresh' as far as corpses went. There were about seven or eight of them scattered in their path, easy to miss in the dark. Easy to step on.

Xiuyang jolted, perhaps more than would have been appropriate were it anyone else, but it got her attention. "T-Thanks. ...There's energy in the walls. I think we found our 'something important.' And... the last batch of involuntary explorers?" she theorized.

Now the floor seemed to be of interest to her. She was suspecting a trap related to this lightning in the walls that may have fried the corpses. She was also curious to inspect the blood for traces of the same compounds they were forced to take. If this was the path the others would follow eventually, then this discovery was good news, finally.

Juulet knelt down to inspect their morbid discovery. Each corpse was different, whether it was gender, size, and even race. There was at least one yasoi, a few assumed humans, quite a few hegelans too and an eeaiko was hard to distinguish with dried up features. “I don't know.” concluded the avatar as she passed her digits over the fabric that still coated some of the hands. “They're all wearing this weird wrapped up stuff. It's tight on them too.” she peered over at Xiuyang. “We're still wearing our stuff. And-” manipulating the head was left to the tip of her spear. “I've never seen people die like THIS. At least, you'd see it everywhere. But it's just the head. Also, there wouldn't be this much blood.” the expert had spoken.

She hoisted herself back up and continued, angling every hop to avoid a corpse. They would encounter a few more, all the same. One was bigger than even Ashon, resembling one of those tall folk from ReTan. There still wasn't any sort of rancid smell in spite of all the death around them. There was a smell, but what did a corpse smell like when there was nothing to feast on the flesh? Some sort of dried meat?

They were were at the end of the specific pipe they had been following. The exit was elevated, just over an old basin with nothing but a few corpses. A convenient ladder brought down down into the open container, one of many. To these two, this was more cryptic architecture of a mysterious and almost alien civilization. To any with hegelan notions, they could translate something close to 'Filtration Center' on a few surfaces.

Without warning, Juulet shoved Xiuyang into the basin before the ladder could be solicited. She followed soon after, the sounds muffled by a swift sonic bubble. The light was extinguished and the Yasoi's voice was lowered to a hush.

“Shh. It's coming.”

Inaudible at first, but the heavy footsteps soon reverberated on the metal basin they had fallen into. They were heavy and regular in their irregularity with a constant grinding noise accompanying the foreboding rhythm. In a matter of seconds, the footsteps echoed through the large filtration room they were in. There was something there. Something big. Something human shaped. Something headless.



There were no conclusions that could be drawn. At least, that was what Xiuyang told herself, because nothing good came to mind. A failed experimental method of protection from the unfathomable horrors of this place? Perhaps in finding their way down here they'd skipped some step where they should have received and applied bandages to themselves?

She threw them away with all the other thoughts that would paralyze her into inaction. Then, she screamed. Juulet had predicted her reaction to being shoved into a metal box with a few corpses already in it, thankfully.

Then, she was in the dark with only Juulet and the dead for company, at least until the unfathomable horror of the day showed up. It was a situation straight from her own nightmares, in which she could do little but tremble and cry. Silently, she prayed to Eshiran for deliverance once again, this time with the person she'd prayed to be delivered from last time sitting right beside her.

She had to be strong, but she was powerless. The Doge intended for Ciro to be here. If he knew anything, he couldn't have possibly expected Ciro to escape alive, could he? What did Ciro know? What was he doing right now? Was he praying, too? If she ever got out of here, would he rely on her again if she told him honestly how terrified and hopeless she felt right now? Would she even want him to?

Maybe Ciro would have been doing better. Perhaps this was just another indicator that he was above her level. Maybe he overestimated her. Perhaps they both did. Juulet seemed to want her to be quiet and wait, and she was in no hurry to do anything else.

Juulet was not immune to natural trepidation that came with horrors beyond one's imagination. But monsters were on par for the course when one wanted to change the world. This was another one of these freaks and she only lamented the position she had put herself into for this creature deserved nothing more than to be shown the light of the Gods through a righteous flex of power.

It was still very dark, but there was an unusual, colourful glow they could see shining over the bowl-shaped container they were in. This allowed Juulet to easily find one of the many cracks on the ancient metallic surface and get a glimpse of what was actually going on. Xiuyang was gestured over to watch, if she'd be so inclined.

The colourful glow came from the monster itself. Or rather the very same fabric they had found around the extremities of the corpses were wrapped all around its body. Green, blue, yellow, orange, red ... They all radiated a light as energy was being drawn. With how intense the light was, it was hard to see anything other than the bandages, leaving only to the imagination what that stump between the shoulders could be like. Its feet were also darkened, likely lacking in the same fabric as the rest of the body. It was burly, muscular and its movements incredibly stiff as if the joints had rusted with time too.

There were PILES of corpses littered all over the expansive room full of smaller pipes connected to many tanks and basins. In the center was the very headless thing they had both sensed, at least eight feet in height without a head. And dragged by one of its arms was a body. One that wasn't rendered skeletal like the others. It looked unresponsive and radiated a dim red. Until it was raised high up by the ankle.

“Dami-the-fuck.” she whispered.

The smaller, human-sized body began to wiggle and struggle. No sounds, just arms and leg flailing like it was a fish plucked out of the water. The many lights shined upon the head - the eyes were sunken and the skin dry. It looked to have been a woman once, but the protruding teeth of rigor mortis made it an impossibility this was a fresh face. And yet it moved and there was an undeniable heartbeat.

Until the headless' idle hand, in one robotic and swift gesture, grasped the fabric coating the living corpse, twisted it and ripped it all off in one go. With it came skin, muscle, blood, organs and even some bone. All of it immediately sucked assimilated by the rainbow of death that adorned the mighty horror. The skeletal corpse was then tossed into the basin.

Juulet nearly flipped. Of course it was their's.

Xiuyang crawled slowly over to Juulet to watch the horrific spectacle. It had no head, and ostensibly no brain to speak of, so she thought it might be an automaton of sorts. Its unnatural movements seemed to suggest as much, but any ghost of a notion that the being served the purely utilitarian purpose of protecting the Abyssal Forge was ripped away along with the impossibly alive woman's flesh. This thing did not just kill, it—or whatever controlled, or created it and left it here, seemed to enjoy the thought of torturing its victims.

Xiuyang was impossibly calm, almost serene as the sound of the remains of that woman hitting the metal basin echoed throughout what Xiuyang had decided was a tomb. Her trembling hands reached for her dual pistols.

"Hey, Juulet. What was your purpose in life? Besides just being the Avatar. I mean, what got you out of bed every morning?" She drew her pistols, and in this short moment, her intentions weren't clear.

Juulet's heart hammered her chest. Her palm upon it did little to slow down the light panic that hit what was once one of the most dangerous beings in the world. There was only so many surprises and horrors she could take before it just got a little too close. No crying, no whimpering, just one too many bad surprises.

The hulking monster stood immobile for a moment before performing a pronounced U-turn back into the tunnel it had original come from. With every step that got quieter, the yasoi's anxiety dropped in tandem.

The question was initially met with a grimace of revulsion. What this actually being asked of her? While they were sitting on a creeping puddle of still hot blood from the residues of the corpse. “Good food.” she answered sarcastically, voice still hushed as if the headless was still nearby. “And sometimes the next hit.” she mellowed, just a little, once the echoes of the footsteps had almost completely disappeared. “At the risk of sounding melodramatic, saving the world's a prime motivator. That and getting your ass kissed, I suppose.” she crossed her arms, back against the rust. “Why?”

Xiuyang's armed hands once again faltered as the beast rumbled away into the distance. She didn't put them away just yet, merely rested them on her lap. "Good food is a good answer." She sat there for a bit, letting her heart rest just as Juulet was.

"Because our death felt so close, I thought the truth might finally come out." She grinned impishly, though her whole body was shaking like a leaf. "I suppose I wasn't aware that the world needed saving. What other secrets are you and Ciro keeping from me?"

She stood up, not because her body was ready to move, but because she wanted an excuse not to look Juulet in the eyes, and to be literally anywhere else as fast as possible. She inspected the walls with her Gift once more, closing her eyes and pointing as she followed the wire's path. "There," she said, pointing to an empty door frame up on a catwalk far above the pair of girls sitting in their metal coffin. She walked to the ladder, leaving Juulet to her own thoughts and devices she had to escape this pit of hell they were in.

As for Xiuyang, it was time for some acrobatics. The stairs leading up were demolished, so she was left to climb on what remained, with small sonic bubbles around her hands and feet as she moved. It wasn't perfectly quiet, but it wasn't a screeching cacophony as it perhaps should have been.

“Who?” the light ball formed again, revealing a puzzled look that matched her voice. “You mean the guy you're screwing?” her tone was a tad obnoxious but lacked the sarcastic air she had a tendency of liberally spewing out. “The guy rubbed me as the average pizza-plotter. Boring. I leave that to the schemers I work with.” a wave of dismissal followed her answer. The lack of eye contact left the degree of sincerity up in the air here. “I've been honest with my goals from the start. I know it's a hard concept for pasta-yaniis to grasp. So Shune-kissed in your sneakiness.”

When their next destination was found, Juulet decided in that instant that she could not get up there in a timely manner. Not with one leg and hazards everywhere. With her manas swelled to their maximum ith energy and sweat accumulating fast on her forehead, she zapped right at the door frame just as Xiuyang had made it. She was in a light pant, but leaned against the frame like she was too cool for school. “Trouble in sneaky paradise, I take it?” here came nosy Juulet. A can of worms one couldn't just close.

The passage led to what looked to be an office. The flooring was cleaner, fitting for a working space. The wooden desk had seen better days but was in one piece, as was the rolling-spinning chair Juulet immediately sat upon, causing an unpleasant screech that warned her of its flimsy make. Not that it worked to dissuade her. “Fuck yes, a little break~” there was also a couch, one in far better state than the one Xiuyang was on in the apartment complex. Papers had withered to nothing, as did whatever was framed on the walls.

There was one thing that had survived and was in one piece, however: The wooden box, on the desk, unplugged.

Xiuyang's face soured, but she would allow Juulet to continue her slander. It was better if Juulet thought Ciro was boring and ordinary. It meant he was not on her threat radar—a reputation he might value. "I'll take Shune-kissed as a compliment," Xiuyang replied, finding her nonchalance again as her arms bore the strain of her struggles instead of her heart and mind. This wouldn't last, but it was nice.

Xiuyang wasn't surprised to see Juulet beat her to the door, but rather a little annoyed that she was blocking it like the too-cool school bully she was. "Just that I don't know what he's thinking," she dismissed as she brushed past. All her doubts and fears would be confirmed or laid to rest when—when, she told herself—she saw Ciro's reaction to her return.

She'd had a goal in mind when she saw the wooden box on the desk, but then Juulet mentioned a break, and they both needed one. Even in this state, Juulet had enough power to instantly transmit herself to safety from the bottom of a pit, just once. She would likely need that power again, soon.

Xiuyang dug through her medicine box and retrieved two small pouches of something. She tossed Juulet one. "Eat it, even if you don't have an appetite." She took her own advice, eating hers.

They were strange little things. Thin pieces of savory dried meat rolled up with salty seaweed on the outside, a lightly sweet paste in the center. Was there also cheese?

"So what are you saving the world from, Juulet?" Xiuyang asked as she paced the room, looking for something.

Juulet took the supposed snack, unwrapped it and leaned in for a conspicuous sniff. Then a couple more. It was easy for her to distinguish ingredients, but this mixture was something she hadn't tried yet. It made her reluctant, at first, until she saw Xiuyang eat. The deep monkey brain, or was that instinct more reptilian? In any case, seeing one in created some subconscious trust, and so she chowed down. Slowly, at first, then she wolfed away.

“Mmm, fuck, you huusoi know how to make cheese.” she spoke mid-chewing. She liked it. “Qitoip.” she added offhandedly. She finished her meal whilst slowly spinning on her new throne.

Then came the question, to which she reacted by dimming her light a little. “I think you lot have a name for it.” she took a moment to muse, head trained toward the dark ceiling, letting her hair flow over the noticeable short backrest. “Or maybe it's just the Severans. It's Marhazannet, I think? Basically, end times. Vyshta will, y'know, guide all mortals to the Dream or whatever they call the good option. We don't really have some intricate story or prophecy about this.” her gestures were dismissive, making it hardly believable there was any truth, but she also hardly paused or strained to think of what to say. It was all so seamless and conversational. “It's not something most people, even Yasoi, know about.”

The chair spinning stopped and her violet eyes locked onto Xiuyang's, daring them to look away. “It's begun. And many are unaware. Did you know some of your friends had a hand in it?” no smile, no grimace, only a canted head and a half-lidded, expectant look.

Xiuyang smiled a little. She didn't make the ingredients, but it was her... concoction, she supposed. It felt a bit good. Maybe she really should try to learn how to actually make food. She should have Seviin try some, too.

No, no. Back up. Who cares if Juulet liked it? This was a weird situation. Everything about it was wrong. How could she get so chummy with this monster, just because a voice in a box gave her some unbelievable warning?

Yet, the devil behind her had more interesting things to say than the one on her shoulder—and so, they talked. "Marhazannet. That's the thing Raffaella talks about. ...The pink midget," Xiuyang added helpfully, in Juulet's lingo. Her mother's diary talked about it too. It's full of dangerous ideas and ideals. Enough to tempt someone like Raffaella to try to save the world by preaching the end. Is that what Juulet thinks she is? A destined hero?

Xiuyang glanced back at Juulet just in time to catch her eyes. Xiuyang's went wide with genuine shock. Narrowed brows of denial would follow shortly. "What do you mean, it's begun? No, before that, who are you talking about? I have many acquaintances. I keep very few friends."

Watch who you trust, okay?

The Queen's words continued to gnaw at her.

“No clue.” was her response to the mention of the 'pink midget'. “Got anything to drink?”

The next question was expected, and she would either be drinking or confer a long stare at the other, waiting until she had something to sip before exerting her vocal cords any more.

She would end up speaking regardless. “Some of your not-buddies, then, got involved in something they shouldn't have. Now we have a big bad super-demon on the loose.” Juulet produced an exaggerated nod with wide and maddened eyes. “That's right, Salami, oh yes. Big bad monster that make that no-head look like a chump. Worst in the world, Salami. Can end the world, almost did once, Salami! We're FUCKED Xiuyang!” her voice picked up in volume the further she went, almost sounding like this was some sort of skit to mess with Xiuyang.

Suddenly, she deflated. “But, no really, a grand demon's out. Didn't you notice a missing Yasoi with tits-for-brains and a Huusoi with height-for-brains? Hells, I thought that bastard, Don-Balls, had died over there too.”

"You cooked her alive in the last round of the Trials," Xiuyang added with exasperation. "No one gave you shit for that?" She binded some water into her gourd, the regular one. It was a bit difficult.

She watched the yasoi madwoman lose her marbles. The wide-open eyes made her skin crawl, but she refused to look away. She'd confronted her fears in Mudville. She wouldn't let those eyes break her composure anymore. "Wow. I think that's the first time you've said my name properly," was all she offered in response to the tirade.

"The grand demon of arrogance. I heard about it. So that was what you meant. You said it like someone I know was working to end the world on purpose." With that, Xiuyang seemed to lose interest in the topic, and resumed scanning the walls. Soon, she found what she was looking for. She didn't know what a plug or an outlet was, but the shape was intuitive enough. Unless Juulet found Xiuyang's response to learning about Marhazannet lacking enough to warrant getting up off her throne, the voice in the box would be speaking soon, most likely.

“Nope.” Juulet took a long sip, draining the contents of the gourd with gusto. “Nobody cared because nobody really died.”

The yasoi then shrugged. “Well, it's a bit odd that it happened when they arrived, and they so happened to be the only survivors. I'd be a little suspicious.” she scooted closer by thrusting her hips forward, forcing the chair to inch closer to the desk. Slumping herself over the old piece of furniture, she could barely peek at what Xiuyang was doing. “It's definitely no coincidence the perfect conditions lined up there. Just saying.”

"Roslyn wouldn't do that," Xiuyang replied simply, though her thoughts ran a bit deeper. Finding out who stole my face and spear is a higher priority than ever. If this is seen as the beginnings of Marhazannet, I might become a suspect in a much bigger crime than murder. It's not being discussed openly, as far as I can tell, but if Juulet knows more than most people, does she know someone with my visage was there?

"You're probably right that it was a setup. Feel free to look into it, future hero. I won't be getting in your way anymore." After some more searching with the Gift, she determined that a little lever was preventing the magic from reaching the line, and flipped it.

“Who?”

With a flick of the switch, the radio turned on, but not without a hitch.

“- your comrades have not made it. They - adversity, no doubt. And soon you will too if you do not act quickly.”

“If a ghost - long, then - stirring. And then a horde. - that gate, we - preventive measures now.”

The static was strong and the reception mediocre. They were underground and this box did not seem to be a plant like the others.

“What was that? Oi.” Juulet, in her infinite grace, gave the box a couple of taps. Truly a natural with technology.

There was, however, no response to her approach. Nor could they hear any other voice other than the box's.

Xiuyang stood frozen for a moment, but she had enough wherewithal to get the box away from Juulet before she could smash it into pieces. "It's not responding to us. I think we're eavesdropping. At least, I hope so." She lowered her head. "A horde, he says. A fucking horde. What does he expect us to do in this state? How many people has he fed to this meat grinder to know so much?!" Her grip on the box tightened, causing the wood to emit a creaking sound. She resisted the urge to throw it.

"I'm going to die here," she mumbled with a simple acceptance, her voice weak. "...Hey, Juulet. After everything that's happened between us? We're going to share a grave together. Isn't that funny? Buried and forgotten with some yanii filth that pissed you off? Hilarious," she said, deadpan. She was not laughing. She was crying. Her coping mechanism wasn't helping anymore.

She inhaled sharply, wiped her tears and inspected the walls, again, her hands and feet repeating the same motions for lack of any other ideas, direction or purpose. The mirror... she would die if she tried to escape, if the man's words were true. Someone else would die, too. It wasn't going to save her, but maybe that "someone useful" could do a better job than her. If they could complete the mission, or save Seviin, at least... In the worst case, Ciro could at least bury her, right? For this, he owed her at least that much...

Her body moved on its own while her morbid thoughts continued.

“Probably a few dozens. Maybe a hundred.” answered Juulet offhandedly. Her focus on the box was interrupted by Xiuyang nearly breaking it. In fact, the pressure put on it accentuated the garbled mix of words and static, making most words nearly impossible to distinguish.

Something caught her attention, the same thing that Xiuyang used to bring them here. A singular thread rich with flowing energy that passed by this room. The key word being 'passed', as it continued into what looked to be an isolated door at the corner of the room with glyphs indicated stairs and some undecipherable symbols by it, most faded. This find made it easy to zone out the wallowing human, until her name was mentioned.

“Quit your bitching.” the avatar ordered dryly, her attention entirely on the door. “I'm not fucking dying, which means you're not.” a few long hops later and she was knocking at the reinforced steel door. “Also, there's a different between me being pissed off and being on a bender.” she peered Xiuyang's way briefly. “You'd be giga-dead if I had been really angry. Also, help me, would you? If folks worked here, they had to have away to leave without getting gross.”

As powerful as she was, her capacity seemed to have taken a massive hit. Perhaps even more than the Revidian as she struggled to even make that old door budge.

Xiuyang slowly turned and glared at Juulet, seeming to find herself again. "Killing me would have been kinder than what you did." Her feet dutifully carried her to the door. She traced the frame with a finger, giving it the same treatment as the manhole cover. Then, she'd pop up a sonic bubble and give the door a piece of her mind. "I won't let you say you weren't hoping I'd find a fate worse than death in that place," she said as she vented her anger on the door with a series of rapid kicks.

“Dunno. As I said, bender.” Xiuyang's anger was met with indifference. The door didn't really have a chance when faced with a very angry little lady. With a few well-placed kicks, the door fell and revealed stairs within a tight corridor, leading up. “If I had to think of why I did it, it was to maybe show a tree lover what the Yasoi life is really about.” she was first on stair-braving duty and she definitely wasn't fast.

The orb of light, which was more flame than anything, flickered a little as they ascended. “Air current. Well that's promising.” she remarked just as they met a near identical door as the previous. There was light emitting from it too, the same unnatural one from the office. If one was poised to break it down, the solution would quickly become obsolete as a simple press on the knob would open the door without a hitch. The creaking, however, was awful. “Huh.”

The next room was a plain square and held a variety of shelves and lockers, most of which served to hold guns. Most were gone, but a couple of decrepit leftovers could be seen. Perhaps there'd be something to salvage?

The most interesting thing in the room was what was in the center: A spire of metal and other material that hadn't really been seen by either of them. There was glass too that suddenly flickered with light as they approached. On this very screen were glyphs being generated rapidly and one of three dots above it flickering yellow while the others were a purer white than the surface of this contraption. The biggest sound of light was this machine with only a few light bulbs hanging near the lockers, barely forming a dim light.

Juulet was immediately intrigued by the shiny. With little regard for consequences, she favoured looking with her hand than eyes, and the screen reacted. Tactile. With a mere touch, a variety of new nodes with different symbols on them appeared. Options? “I have no idea what this thing is but I find this extremely fun.” with each tap on one of the nodes, a little beep was prompted with a variety of new options appearing. There were even sliders and symbols she could press to close other tabs!

There were a few other doors, most locked, and only one emitted the lightest draft of air.

Xiuyang followed Juulet, furious with the both of them. Juulet was saying stupid shit, and she was a bigger idiot for wasting more time thinking about what the addict said than she herself did. This woman didn't think about anything but her ego and her next hit.

"...Are you a child? Stop doing random things to it, before it explodes or something," she spat as she looked for weapons she could salvage. This place was a real mystery, but one thing that became obvious was that this civilization was far more advanced, which meant that if any of these were in working order, they'd have a huge advantage. No, with any luck, she would have an advantage, and Juulet would get nothing.

"So... is that all the Yasoi life is to you? Sitting around a campfire, tripping on aberrations and violating random yanii girls that fall from the sky? That's depressing." Her voice was devoid of sympathy. She didn't even know why she said it, or what she hoped to hear. Did she really need more justification to place a bullet in this woman's skull?

How nice it would be to just be able to kill someone without thinking, like Juulet.

Juulet stopped her little machinations to peer over at Xiuyang. “What the fuck is your problem?” she dragged herself closer to the human that had been sniffing about for anything to loot. The Yasoi was slow with every loud drag of her cane through the cement flooring becoming longer as she tried to hasten the pace. “If you've got a problem with me, settle it. Stop being a fucking moody weasel about it.” eventually she was right at Xiuyang's face. “Bitch.”

The draft was a little stronger, evidenced by the orb she had never bothered to snuff out dancing a little faster for a brief moment.

Xiuyang met Juulet's eyes, but she was shaking. Whether that was from anger, fear, or both, it was hard to tell. "You think my sympathy for the Yasoi was just a passing fancy? You sleep soundly at night because I told my father that nothing happened in Yarsoc. Because I didn't want more conflict between our species. That's why we're even. I decided that. Not you. You're welcome," she said with a tone of finality and of pain.

Armed with her new shotgun, she tore her eyes away from Juulet's and made her way to the door that seemed the most promising as an exit. She walked at a sedate enough pace for Juulet to follow, but seemed unconcerned with whether she did or not.

Juulet raised her idle hand at chest-height in a mocking surrender. “Oh no, daddy so scawee.” before unleashing a combination of a snort and a scoff. “Fuck you. You and your country suck.” there was the lightest bit of apprehension once she saw the tool of death Xiuyang had brandished for herself. A reminder that she still wasn't any stronger than this individual who had all the reasons in the world to kill her.

The Mad Avatar, in an effort to blow off whatever steam she was at risk of unleashing, entered a moment of calmness. Something made her furrow her brows. Something wasn't quite right.

A light creak from a door that hadn't moved. A flicker of the lights from the machine in the center that broke the established frequency Juulet had a knack for noticing. An unusual gust that made the flame dance.

Not-so-quickly, she went up to Xiuyang with wide hops. “Just wait a sec.” but this was far too late. The door was already half open. Something from the other side forced it open in the blink of an eye.

Taking up the whole frame was the same, massive monster from before. One heavy step through with the rest of the body lowering itself to fit in. Dragged behind it was not a body this time but an old, mounted gun that had been ripped off from its chassis. It held the piece of metal from the barrel and without hesitation swing it over its shoulder and down toward the duo of girls in one stiff and inhuman motion.

The shockwave of the impact made the door they had left open previous slam shut. An unseen use of the Gift closed the one it had entered from to trap its marks within the room. As it recovered from its opening strike, its body twitched incessantly until it regained its normal, stiff posture and began to walk as if it lacked knees.



Xiuyang knew her words wouldn't be taken seriously. She didn't need them to be. She just needed to say them to her face, and she knew she'd never get another chance to speak her mind to this monster without immediate and irreversible consequences.

She was already dodging away from the door before the beast could even make its move, so sure was she that Juulet's approach meant that a punch or slap was coming her way. A stroke of pure luck that gave her a moment to observe the approach of her slow, horrifying and torturous death, just long enough to notice what she hoped would be a weakness.

She leveled her shotgun, aiming at its knee, and pulled the trigger. The recoil was unreal—it sent her fully to the ground, her usual shooting stance inadequate to brace her. Fortunately, she managed to not hit her head, so well-accustomed was she to falling thanks to her martial arts training. It was a mistake she would not make again. "Cripple it!!" she cried, her eyes manic with terror. "Knees, heels, anything!!"

Juulet was far enough away that stumbling back had gotten her out of harm's way. Now on her derriere, she fumbled to get her spear in both hands and stand herself back up whilst Xiuyang delivered a shotgun blast to the monster's knee.

It mere backed up with that specific leg. There was no damage to whatever was within those layers of alien fabric, but she had managed to burn and rip portions of the outside layer. They were clearly resilient, thick and adaptable but not indestructible. But with only a brief interruption, the headless continued. With a weak stide but rapid steps, it closed the distance between Xiuyang and itself, this time extending its arm out to the side, taking nearly the whole width of the room between its muscular arm and the weapon it held, and brutally swung.

Juulet, despite not being the target, was going to be easy collateral. Just as she had gotten herself back up, she ducked back down, falling on one knee. She grunted in annoyance.

But with this hurdle came an opportunity. Legs, she said? The defiant Yasoi instead aimed for the armpit, aiming to disable that arm before anymore damage could be made.

The spear for stuck. It pushed into a gap between the different pieces of fabric, even piercing some of it, but it couldn't budge anymore. And with that, the horror's retreating arm had the piece of metal repelled her away, nearly breaking the near-Goddess.

“Fuck this, we need to BAIL!”

The spear had fallen after its arm had returned to neutral, dragging the chunk of metal with it. Now was Juulet's turn. It rushed forward, its movements gaining in fervor and speed.

"Run where?! How fast and for how long?!" Xiuyang demanded as she dodged behind the beast, causing it to lose line of sight and charge after Juulet instead. She took the opportunity to pick up Juulet's lost spear and throw it to her, but that was all the aid she'd offer for now.

She seized the opportunity to press herself up against the center console to hide behind it. The significance of the symbols, whether or not Juulet pressing random buttons had brought the thing here, whether or not the console was something important that this headless drone wouldn't destroy, all of these thoughts escaped her as she sought purely to hide and examine the monster's wrappings with her Gift. Was there also armor underneath? Was fighting it truly futile?

The layers of fabric that wrapped around this thing's entire body appeared to hide whatever was within from both harm and sight. A peculiarity that could be noticed upon focusing was how each different coloured piece of alien-cloth seemed to be different in more than just their look. They had an entirely different mana colony yet they all worked in unision like their own greater colony. Each time the monster moved, a select amount of these wrappings flared with energy.

There was something else that made focusing beyond the superficial of the creature more difficult than it should: The massive source of power Xiuyang hid behind. It wasn't just a console, it was filled with energy rivalling anything she had ever seen before, with the exception of that evil eye in the sky that threatened to take the world.

Juulet caught the spear with one hand and instead of trading hits in a losing fight, she opted for a parry. On something much stronger and larger than her. Crazy. Truly a mad Yasoi. Except the moment the spear hit the gun, a small explosion caused it to deflect just enough to whiff.

Seizing her chance, she planted the butt of her spear on to the ground and used the straight pole as a swift means to rise up and deliver a kick onto the recovering headless.

It hit true. And then what? It didn't move. It didn't really feel, nor was it damaged. The Yasoi was just kind of there like an idiot.

It grabbed her ankle and tossed her into the machine spire filled with energy, her back colliding with it pretty hard. So much for it caring about the that novelty.

Repeatedly, Xiuyang had convinced herself to swallow her fear and push just a little further. Now faced with something she feared more than Juulet, a terror she hadn't had time to grow accustomed to, she was losing her conviction.

One more, she again told herself. She would try one more thing. She could not use this machine, but she could try to draw from it, draw to her limits and attempt to burn the bandages away.

Xiuyang peeled through the protective layers that safeguarded this immense and pure energy contained in what would one day be referred to as a battery. Or some very advanced variant of one. The screen flickered as she drew, with only an insignificant grain of it already enough to supercharge an untethered Xiuyang. It was very temporary, however, as she could feel her manas already faltering and ready to burst if she didn't unleash it now.

In response to the stealing of energy, the machine's normal, white lights had turned red with an 'error' alarm blaring from it.

In the meantime, Juulet could barely catch her breath after hurting her back. She struggled to look up a the monster approaching her, this time using its idle hand to reach for her neck and finish the job it had started on the bridge. The yasoi fumbled to find her spear again, eyes transfixed on what was going to be her executioner.



Xiuyang's manas ballooned in power, beyond anything she'd felt before, and certainly far beyond anything she had available to her in this dead hellhole. Now she was the eye in the sky, looking down on this nothing that stood before her. Forget the legs, she was going to aim straight for the heart.

She leapt up onto the console, aiming her shotgun at the behemoth, using it as her focus point to unleash all of the energy from. That was not Juulet's neck it was about to grab—it was Seviin's, or Yuli's, or even her own. It was anyone but her archenemy, she told herself as heat swirled around her body, her hands feeling as though they were burning as they poured magic into her weapon. Her eyes and smile lit up with mania that could rival Juulet's, as she leaned back and took a wide stance. "EAT THIS!!" She roared, releasing a laser beam of intense heat and white light from the muzzle of her weapon.

Before it could lay a finger on Juulet, a mighty beam of searing energy blasted the headless' chest. No longer did it simply recoil, it was forced back in spite of the massive friction its heavy boots were exercising on the pavement. A good few meters back and a hole in the shell were gained, exposing none other than flesh. Some of it burnt, some of it still lightly tanned skin with quite a bit of body hair. It bled too.

“Fuck ...” a rattled Juulet pushed herself on her rear and then eventually on her one good foot. “Way too close.” she looked over her to see the Revidian riding the super-computer, striking quite the triumphant pose. A part of her wanted to make a comment, but for once the wannabe avatar kept quiet. She was also keenly away of what had happened to Xiuyang's body - now at the brink of collapse if she even gets close to overdrawing again.

The beast wasn't done, however. It only faltered for a moment. Its weapon once again fellt behind it, clutched tightly like a babe to its milk bottle. Something stirred with in it. It trembled with its idle arm beginning to flail about while remaining perfectly straight, meanwhile the weapon-bearing arm was adamantly immobile. The whole room shook in the rhythm of the monster's tantrum, looking like it was meant to scream but lacked the mouth to do so.

With this outburst of energy, a couple of doors broke down with their rusted hinges falling apart. One toward their exit, another to another, unknown passage. One where stairs led down just like how they had entered, but unlike where they had come from, the passage was completely flooded.

The light bulbs had burst, leaving the red-light of the computer and Juulet's orb as the only sources of light. They reflected magnificently on the multicolored monstrosity that never relented.

In a sudden range of motion it initially seemed unable to have, it leapt up with superhuman speed and power to crash its weapon down upon Xiuyang.

Xiuyang may have appeared triumphant to an outside observer, but inside, she was reeling. When the attack came, she was too slow. The massive hunk of metal clipped her upper arm close to her shoulder. She screamed as her arm was rendered immobile, broken and hanging limp by her side. She could not draw for that kind of attack again, and she could not fire the gun with only one arm, not without breaking her body even more.

But, there was someone else in the room who still had two arms—two arms, but only one leg to stand on. "Juulet! You can draw from it!" she panted, scrambling to her feet.

The console had been collateral in the monster's assault. Part of its shell was gone and the battery was exposed. Multiple wires were out in the open too, causing sparks to sporadically crack around it. If the alarm wasn't blaring hard enough before, it certain was now.

This thing without a head did not wait to celebrate or verify, it immediately rushed down Xiuyang as she called out, its hand swiftly reaching for her neck. A consolation prize for failing to kill that yasoi twice.

Juulet had rolled away when the attack had come and as she rose on her one knee, she saw her salvation: The exit. Instinct nagged her to go - it was her destiny to survive until the end times.

The Revidian mutt was out for her blood, a good riddance. Surely, she could mess with space-time to avoid consequences. Worst case? She'd be lucky enough to not be one of the dead. The monster was distracted, now was the time.

A breeze came from the escape. A stagnant one.

Xiuyang's neck was about to be snapped. An effortless act by a monster with no mind. Alone in a forgotten city. At the very least she'd be buried.

“BURN FUCKO! BURN!”

Juulet had zipped on its shoulder - a bare foot hooked on one and her nails digging on the other. She was supercharged just like Xiuyang had been, and with her free hand she stabbed the stump with her spear, directing all the remaining energy into the thing.

In a show of ever increasing speed, its metal club was swung upwards, slapping away what was surely going to be a grievous blow. The explosion that'd ensure would be misfired, propelling the monster toward the console rather than imploding it. Disoriented, it flailed about, having since released Xiuyang from its grip.

A final kiss to the damaged chest had it recoiling into the console itself. One unfortunately timed swing of the rusted gun later and the battery was struck. Immense quantities of energy burned into the headless, until it inevitably exploded.

An explosion not nearly as big as it should be. Deadly nonetheless. Most of it softend by a failsafe, a part of it sucked by the headless.

Xiuyang's eyes widened in panic as the beast grabbed her by the neck. This was her just reward for being so indecisive, part of her trying to make peace with Juulet, part of her trying to justify murder. It was now too late to reach the mirror, her one good arm wasting time trying to create space for her to breathe as her vision faded. She was going to die a more horrible death than she could have imagined even yesterday. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.

Juulet shouted, and Xiuyang could only guess who was the intended recipient, until she suddenly found herself on the ground, rattled to her core but virtually unharmed. She still could not see, but she could feel the energy building behind her as the imminent explosion approached. She drew as much as she dared and used her binding to produce a regenerating shield of Oraff to protect herself.

Both gratitude and confusion fought a territorial battle on her face as she looked at Juulet, out of breath and unable to give voice to her thoughts. Perhaps the yasoi would appreciate the moment of silence before Xiuyang decided to resume asking questions from which she'd get no satisfaction.

Then, however, she turned her eyes to the monster, likely thinking the same thing Juulet was: could it really be dead?

Juulet and Xiuyang had the same idea of conjuring a regenerating wall to survive the coming super-explosion. Their range and effective RAS was far too dampened for a teleport, especially when underground, so static defense it was.

Considering the amount of energy they were dealing with, they should have been wiped out. Even with the natural inefficiencies imposed on such power sources. And yet here they were and the blast wasn't nearly as big as it should be. Juulet smelled a rat.

Or was that just the horrible stench of burning flesh?

It came to not surprise that, as the smoke cleared, they would have maybe been better off taking the blast.

The thing was there, partially on fire but appearing relatively unscathed. The wound Xiuyang had made on its chest had worsened, now burnt black and the filaments around it damaged further. But it stood, alive with the flames doing little to nothing on its alien-ish cowl.

“No fucking way.” a distraught Juulet with widened eyes let her arms slump down, utterly in shock. “It sucked ALL THAT?!”

The monster stepped forward, its gait back to this half-limp like it had no knees to begin with. It was closer to Xiuyang with its massively imposing figure, and it needed some new layers.

“We gotta run ...!”

Xiuyang was frozen in fear. This thing was an automaton, a mere pawn, and it was utterly beyond her and Juulet. A terrified smile spread across her lips as she realized Juulet was right, the thing was still alive. "I can't... do this anymore," she breathed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she leapt to her feet and bolted for the only door that even vaguely promised an escape. "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!" she finally erupted, reaching with her one good arm for her medicine box as it bounced loosely at her side while she ran. She fumbled and fumbled for the object she was searching for: a mirror.

She didn't know how the voice in the box's magic worked. Trying to do this could kill her, but it was better than whatever that thing intended to do with her. She looked into the mirror at her pitiful, hopeless face and felt her stomach drop. The words. What were the words?! The footsteps behind her grew louder, she felt her heart pounding—

"Commuto cum socium alibi!!" she cried desperately.

Every rigid step got louder as its lust for flesh was geared toward the more complete of the two living beings. Its fingers hooked and cracked as it readied itself for the harvesting ritual they had witnessed back in the vat they hid in. Xiuyang was destined to be part of its wicked cowl.

As the words were spoken to the mirror, the stiff hand lunged at breakneck speed. The sheer force of that limb would be enough to actually break a neck.

If she was going to get away, it'd be by the millisecond.

But its hand stopped right before it got within a foot of her body. When she had just finished to utter 'socium' through the ball in the throat.

They were both interrupted.



An otherworldly siren reached even the depths of the sewers. A terrifying sound with no basis in the world both she and Juulet lived in. Ear-piercing too.

The monster stiffened, its arm still extended while the other lined itself parallel to its muscular flank. The outstretched arm flailed in a supposedly random pattern before having its digits dig into the fabric-collar that surrounded its neck stump, tugging onto it in vain before letting go.

The headless turned away from both of the warm bodies and walked toward the exit with the submerged stairs with a gait both robotic and charged with purpose. It submerged itself into the body of water like there wasn't any to begin with, sinking down until the lights from its layers were finally gone.

Juulet was helpless during most of it. Her spear was out of reach, energy was hard to come by and she was sure she had at least bruised a few ribs. When the mockery of life that was their executioner-to-be arose again, seemingly unscathed, she made herself small. Playing the hero didn't work and running was out of the question. She hated this. It felt like the trials.

She bided her time to eventually make it her's again. But the yanii was going to die, and with that everything she had worked for to make this expedition work, as botched as it was. When Xiuyang sought the aid of the mirrors, Juulet used any scraps she could to try and consume space and give precious more seconds to her lifeline.

It was going to fail, her previous overdraw had hampered her abilities further. That was it. Over.

Then the shrieks of an intervening God saved them. The monster, ordered by the alien call, abandoned everything in favor of the sewers' depths. Juulet onto her back, her chest heaving, now just realizing she had been holding her breath the entire time.

“It wasn't supposed this awful.” she mumbled, head turned to where the headless had come from, where the breeze came from.

Commuto cum socium alibi, she repeated as the wails of the damned echoed around her. She'd tripped and fallen and accepted her fate if the object in her hand couldn't save her. Commuto cum socium alibi, she repeated a few more times, like a broken record, each time more quiet than the next.

Why? Why wasn't this working? Even a power that evaded the Knowers could not take her out of this place? Had she already died and gone to hell? Did the "useful person" Ciro had promised her hear how dire the situation had become and abandon her to die?

"You coward!!" she shouted hypocritically into the mirror, which showed only her own crying face back to her. She let it drop to the floor, sobbing. She didn't know what the sound was, only that it was horrible and it either commanded the beast chasing her to go after a more important target, or had scared it away, which meant something even more horrifying was coming.

She shut her eyes tightly and began to focus on her breathing. Each time the wailing came, she inhaled and exhaled with it. Finding a rhythm, she began to set the shattered bones in her arm with her binding magics. It was among the most complex healing jobs of her life, but she took it one fragment at a time. By the time Juulet hobbled over to her, she was nearly finished.

Juulet scurried over to the emotionally worn out Xiuyang, spear back in hand and unflinching toward the otherworldly wailing from the outside. The butt of the spear ended its sequence of taps with a louder thud by the Revidian's forearm. Not quite a helping hand, but a useful rod was as nice as it got with her.

“Up. We got a job to finish.” she demanded with a pokerface and demanding voice. One contrasted by the faint voice of Leon Solaire reaching them with the same intensity as the siren. “We got fuckos looking for us.” she peered over to the exit that would eventually lead them to the surface.

Xiuyang packed away her mirror into her medicine box with the solemnness of someone submitting their last will and testament to a drop box, stood up and walked silently along, lacking the wherewithal to even complain about Juulet's lack of bedside manners.

It must be nice, being so completely convinced that one is a goddess, she thought. Every impossible survival was simply fate rather than a miracle in a long series of miracles that would one day come to an abrupt and cruel end. Yet, in spite of her godhood, Tyrel was such a nice person. What had gone so wrong to make Juulet so cruel..?