Codename Hydra

CODENAME HYDRA

Assignment 1- Blood traction

======

This place is hell.

I was torn from my homeland because of something I can only classify as a cosmic accident, and tossed into a realm where everything I knew by heart, all that I thought obvious, now makes only shallow sense if any. Nightmares that we never feared awaited us, manifest in their full glory, welcoming us to a battle of attrition that will endure for an endless lifetime, beneath an indifferent sun, twin moons and new stars every night, when the last throng has escaped.

This place is hell, and yet here we stay.

How comes it we are satisfied with this fate, it's hard to say. Some feel they deserve it. Some just have nowhere else to go, and have come to see this place as our home. Better the hell we know than the heaven we will. Some people were born here and that's that. Some don't have a choice in the matter- an even more certain death awaits them everywhere else. Then there's people who are here out of their own will. They are legion.

But that isn't all.

There's a difference between living in the frontier and actually striding into enemy territory. There's something suicidal about walking past the blurred line that separates the claimed zone from the wilderness. You could live in this place without suffering more than you would anywhere else, if you knew where to stay. You could enjoy all its benefits without giving an inch, a dime, nothing. And yet there is no shortage of people who will cross the blurred line and go where danger is, for reasons that wouldn't seem adequate unless you were the one who came up with them.

While as for us, we are supposed to go one step further.

Or at least, we are thought to. I often ask myself if there's really any difference- we are in no more danger than anyone else who's crossed the frontier. If there's a difference, it comes only in the final moments and maybe not even then. We haven't ever been tried in that way- not yet at least. I've never met a foe we couldn't defeat, or at least escape with minimal compromise. I wonder if it's really ironic that we've chosen to die rather than face failure, and even loyal to those principles we're still alive- we're not the first and likely won't be the last either to make this choice.

Even though we haven't made the sacrifice, we've made the difference.

I'm glad I haven't made it yet, and I hope this isn't the time to make it either. But I know it'll happen. Sooner or later, it will; I can't deny I am mortal. Somewhere I heard this is inherent to the human condition- when we realize we are haunted by our own ghosts, we set out to do what we can with the time we have, to make the difference in our lifetimes. I would lie to say I accomplished nothing, that I have never made the difference, that I've yielded no legacy, whether anyone will remember it or not. But even then, there's still so much to be done, there's so much I can still do. I wouldn't give up before doing all I could do. I'd still regret it if I died.

And yet, giving up can be so tempting at times...

======

Priya rubbed her sole over the ground, looking at her companions. She was thirsty- but she had endured much worse once upon a time.

Next to her, Kalil had his head lying on the ground, his big ears alert to any vibrations that took a shortcut. His dark skin, the discolored patches around his eyes and the nearly foot-long scars she could spot on them, told of stories she had never dared ask. All she knew was that they had met up in the ruins. At first, he had seemed to be sick, almost dying. Slowly but surely, however, he had regained his strength at a rate she could only define as frightening. The Kalil she knew now, far from a victim, was a fighter, clearly and obviously.

This she had known from Omar, another of their companions, right now carrying a monstrously large rifle, almost the size of a man, on his back. Omar was older than Kalil, much more vocal- and, she had thought to herself, more attractive: that bald head gave him a special charm. She somehow felt safer around him: he had an air of confidence and strength that even Kalil couldn't match. From Omar, she had known Kalil had, in fact, been a fighter. A veteran of several skirmishes, where he had lived by his strength and ruthlessness.

But Kalil had never expected to make that recovery. The men who had brought him here knew he wouldn't recover. And yet, he had recovered. This fact puzzled him somewhat, the wonder serving only to make him even warier- like right now, as he had his nose to the ground. Priya couldn't help but find this suspicious- even though she knew her eyesight had never been very good.

"Guys, umm, can I ask something?"

And finally, she turned to their last companion. Well, the last one that was anything even remotely like them. Even then, he was different from the rest.

He was white.

"I don't think we have been properly introduced." Omar replied, turning to the stranger.

"Ah, I'm Jumbo." the stranger mumbled, nodding.

"Greetings then, Jumbo." Omar said. "I'm Omar, that's Priya, and over there is Kalil."

"And what's he doing?"

Omar hesitated for an instant.

"You don't know what he's doing?"

"Eh, sorry. I actually used to work on a circus."

"Standing on your hind legs?" Kalil suddenly snapped. Omar gave him a reprimanding gesture.

"Kalil is listening through the ground..."

"Nah, never got the gist of that one trick." Jumbo replied. "I used to wear all red and gold, put on a lot of feathers, then make a dramatic appearance..."

Omar glared at Jumbo. Quietly, he lowered his head, and went silent.

"Yes, the life of an elephant can be difficult." Priya commented, shaking her trunk side to side.

"Unno about that, I think I had it easy." Jumbo commented, his tail swinging up. "I mean, a lot of elephants end up actually working! I just had to pull the wagons at times. But we also took a lot of trains, and they let me wander sometimes, you know? It was pretty cushy all things considered."

"Nostalgic?" Kalil snapped.

"Nah, happy I got to really stretch my legs." Jumbo tilted his head. "It's pretty odd, what we're doing here, though, you know? I mean, I've had a howdah put on me before, but not often. Now it looks like it's all I do."

Priya blinked, thinking about pitching in for a little.

"I used to do blood traction." she commented.

"Blood traction?"

"Yeah. Pull heavy loads... after I got separated from my herd." she looked away. "You've got to muscle it with any obstacles too, because that's all there's to it. You can't work it smarter, you have to work harder, and if you didn't have it in you at first, all you've got next is a whole day of frustration, at best."

"Sounds tough."

"What was it like for you to be separated from the herd?" Omar asked.

"Ah, no, I was born in captivity actually heh..." Jumbo giggled nervously.

The elephants looked at each other.

"That makes one of you." Kalil commented.

"And what did you do, anyway, wise guy?" Jumbo asked, turning to Kalil.

"Me?" Kalil grumbled. "After they rounded up our herd, I got a pretty sweet task, actually, smashing s'mother humans to bits. They're full of red stuff, you know? Like you or I, they bleed just the same when you put a tusk through them. Almost lost an eye a couple times, got hurt pretty bad once. But you know what? Totally worth it. Barding was sort of heavy, though."

"Barding?" Jumbo asked.

"Barding. Metal plates... you know metal is tough." Kalil responded.

"Metal, like in cages?" the white elephant asked.

"Yes. It can be fashioned into weapons, or into plates. Flat, wide pieces. They're as strong as metal in any other form." Omar explained. "They make fine protection against many animals, and sometimes, the weapons of men as well. I spent some time in war myself, if only in a brief skirmish while defending the temple. We got surrounded- it could've been worse if it weren't for my barding."

"Wow, I never knew you could use metal for that. I could've used some barding when training, heh, the ringmaster had a pretty nasty whip!" Jumbo laughed.

Omar nodded, his eyes relaxing.

"But most of what I did after the roundup was just participating in ceremonies."

"Eh?"

"Ceremonies." Omar continued. "Celebrations in the temple. Semantics of their reason to be aside, the food was actually pretty good at those times."

"Well, I gotta say the food's good here." Kalil chirped. "I've had the best salad in my life a week ago, heh."

"You think that's why they are F.O.O.D.?" Jumbo asked.

Priya's eyes widened.

"What... did you say?"

"F.O.O.D. Look at that guy over there. See those four things on his back? That's an F, that's an O, that's an O, and that's a D. Eff Oh Oh Dee."

"Ha, I knew it." Kalil chirped.

"What?"

"They bought me as old beef bull while I was down with a fever." Kalil's trunk shifted. "Rotten luck, I had been planning to escape together with my pals, run off and give some back, but I got sold. For a while I figured they might have been serving me last meals before turning me into pachyderm steak, those salads were too good to be true."

"But we're not pachyderms. We're loxodonts." Jumbo corrected. "It's a recent discovery, but still..."

"They... they wouldn't do such a thing!" Priya interrupted. "I mean, who'd carry their stuff?"

"I figure they're planning to do that once we reach our destination." Kalil added, with a little grim sigh. "Either way they aren't getting anywhere. When we got off the ship, they got lost shortly after. And they're all going to die soon."

Omar turned to Kalil.

"Kalil, I told you that's not what's going to happen."

"Puh-leeze, old geezer." Kalil laughed. "Come on, trunk to the ground. Haven't you noticed we have been going in circles? Their supplies aren't going to last them forever, they can't graze like we do. They might try to eat us, why not? Other thing I'm sure of is that something BIG is here. More than one, for sure!"

"They... are going... are we going to get eaten!? But I'm too white to die!" Jumbo suddenly cried.

Omar frowned.

"I can see that, Jumbo. No, Kalil is wrong. He was bought as a beef bull because of a disease he had. Somehow, they knew it'd heal, or they knew how to heal it, but the man who sold him to them didn't. So they bought him as a beef bull because it was cheaper than buying him as a war elephant."

"Guess the sun got to your head, geezer." Kalil laughed. "That's so complicated it doesn't make any sense."

"On the other hand all you've got, Kalil, is a good salad."

"We'll see, old man, we'll see." the war elephant replied, defiantly. "And I'll be there to say told you so."

"Anyway, it's a really good salad, isn't it?" Priya asked.

"Yeah, but, umm, I've got a question." Jumbo chirped.

"Yes?"

"What are WE doing here?"

Omar looked just over Jumbo's head.

"Serving as beasts of burden, Jumbo." Omar replied.

"And eating the best salad ever served, heh." Kalil cut in.

======

Meanwhile, above the four elephants, a blue-tinted vault rose past cyclopean trees, odd patches of color spread over it. Close to the four elephants, a small stream burbled innocently, flowers spread in patches all around. Ignoring all those things, a woman was sitting on the ground next to the elephants, her black hair held under a cap improvised with a single piece of brown camo cloth, same motif as her full camo set. Before her, she had a small, strange computer unfolded on the grass. Right next to her, four people were looking out in all directions, most of them wearing a full camo set and a worried sick expression.

The screen refreshed, showing five new pictures of a tree.

"This is what we've got." a voice spoke into her ear, where a small, white device relayed these words.

She pursed her lips for a moment.

"Keep looking."

Meanwhile, around two thirds of a mile away, a man with the physique of a bouncer and the hairstyle of a brunette tulip, wrapped in a camo coat and carrying a camera, pocketed the device. Three people behind him all returned their gazes to him, instead of looking out in all directions.

"It's not in this tree either." he said, looking back at the rest of his squad.

"Are we even sure there IS one, Marcel?" a woman asked, turning to him. She was of small build, with plenty of earrings.

"Well, Giselle... butterflies don't lie." Marcel shrugged.

"That's what SHE said." Giselle sang. "But what about you, do you believe it?"

"It doesn't matter." he glared.

"Hey, don't give me the evil eye." she shrugged. "I just do what you say."

Marcel sighed in annoyance.

"No, you three do what I say." another man in the group chirped. He had short, black hair, wide, frenzied eyes, and a twitchy smile. "Very well, time to see the next tree."

"There, Saul." the fourth member of the group said, pointing away. Aside from the cat ears and tail, she had crimson eyes, and glossy hair to go with her complexion, as dark as one could get without needing to invent another color. She also had enough charm in her face to compensate for all the misfits she had been grouped with.

Marcel nodded. Looking for an instant into Saul's eyes, he nodded again and went towards that tree.

His trajectory was a little odd. He stayed to the shaded side of the trees, always with one to his side, taking distance from a tree whenever he was about to leave its cover. It still didn't take him too long to get to the tree.

Looking up again, he took the camera, and took another picture, turning back to the rest of his group afterwards. He wasn't going to see the other side of the tree without anyone watching his back.

Taking pictures of the canopy around the tree, he waited for a moment. There should be confirmation soon enough.

"Is it here?" he heard Saul's voice in his ear.

"Keep looking." the woman's voice answered. "It's not in my screen."

"That's all the trees in this grove." someone else answered, also in the same frequency, a man with an impatient tone and a raspy voice that sounded way too young.

"Then it's time to see the next one."

"Sorry, what did you say was the reach of that butterfly?" he continued to question.

"If there is one, it'll find it. And it did."

"Is it possible the butterfly made a mistake?" Saul asked, his smile twitching.

"No."

"I don't mean to sound pessimistic, but it's been a week." Saul twitched. "If you have another butterfly, Ms. Friezne, that'd be great."

The woman made a pause.

"The butterflies have done their part, it's your turn now. We already paid you-"

"Yes, yes, WE KNOW!" the third voice groaned.

"-shut up and get to work."

"We should be getting back to base." Marcel pointed.

Saul nodded.

"We'll be getting back to base. Do we have a course plotted towards the next grove?"

"We'll have one in a second."

Marcel took a look around, waiting for Saul's signal. He didn't have to wait long, thankfully, as Saul swiftly strode towards the camp. Well, not exactly camp. More like stop.

======

And once back in camp, Marcel took a look at the rest of the group that had already assembled. In the two years since he had gotten demoted, the platoon had added four more people. Now they were seventeen. And there were seven people to escort this time around. This bossy woman, currently looking for an orchid, two of her coworkers, and four elephant drivers. Well, they were eleven people to escort if you counted the elephants. Smelly and sluggish things, but they were an asset, no question about that: with feet that big, nothing had followed them expecting to meet humans. Nothing had followed them, period, or if it had, he hoped they'd stay the way they had been. Frankly, the silence had gotten a little (a mite) unnerving.

He remembered one assignment, two years ago, when they had strolled into the fairy kingdom disguised as fairies, trying to get some... researchers, if he recalled correctly, to that thicket without any sunlight all year long. Obviously, back then he had little to fear: their disguises were just that good, but even then, it felt oddly ironic that right now he felt so uneasy in an area not reported to be more dangerous. It almost made him want to reach into his pocket, where he once kept the focus for that disguise spell, a sock puppet of a fairy. Instead, all he would feel in his pocket now was the belt of shotgun slugs under his coat.

Well, at least he had a shotgun now. He had been making do with a bow on that one mission- ghosts had a tendency to ignore nonmagical weapons, and magical shotguns were egregiously hard to come by. So instead, they'd gotten a couple quivers of magical arrows and split them between the whole group. Ironically, he was pretty good with a bow, but the shotgun just felt safer.

Anyway, the people were all ready around the elephants. Except for one that had its head lying on the ground. One could say elephants were animals and all animals were good and pure, but Marcel could testify about the feeling of hate radiating from that huge pachyderm. That elephant was giving him gyp. Something about its look made him feel certain that the elephant was trying to jinx them.

"We're short a handful of blockheads, if we fucked something up this is how it...!"

And seemingly it had succeeded.

Marcel's heart did a backflip, wondering if someone had really been caught this time around. If that... no, no thinking. Right now he had to be ready, he thought, as he looked at his captain curse his belly out. And considering Locust's physique, that was an accomplishment.

Whatever had they told him, Marcel never thought he'd serve under someone simply because of their personal power. Locust wasn't very smart, good at keeping a cool head, or a very good leader, or a very reasonable individual, or a viable tactician, or anyhow charismatic- all he had was a raspy voice that sounded too young, and the kind of magic that turned him into an asset: the ability to boost their speed and reaction time without resorting to drugs had gotten them out of just about every pinch they had ever had. Having that, things were so simple that all he needed to be a serviceable leader was to work hard at it. Lately he seemed to be spread somewhat thin, though...

"Cobayon, copy darn it! Answer!" he barked into his mike. "Cobayon, are you there!? Answer me, cocksucker! I said answer, this is an order! NOW! I told you to answer, unless you're dead ARFGH!"

Locust suddenly winced, taking off the device in his ear. There had been a rustling sound.

"Was that you!?"

The rustling sound came on again. Suddenly, their employer felt her laptop stir. Quickly, she unfolded the screen- there was a new picture.

"What the fuck is that guy doing!?" Locust barked, looking into the screen. "Oh, mother of God..."

Crowding just a little, everyone leaned in to see the screen. Marcel resisted- then he heard a little gasp, and a lot of people suddenly taking their shotguns in hand and disarming the safeties. The crowd faded away in an instant, leaving him with a clear view of the screen.

His eyes widened, then he turned to their employer's pointing hand. That computer had come in handy.

"Cobayon, you rock..." he mumbled, readying his shotgun and turning towards that direction.

That image showed them clearly why Cobayon hadn't answered. If he understood the situation right, Cobayon had decided to rub his thumb on the mike instead of making an audible noise, and then used his team's camera to show them what was the problem.

In this case, a giant naga.

Sparkly and slender, its almost alabaster-white body was studded with rocklike, gleaming protrusions, almost like bones. They had caught it from behind, and apparently it had caught on to something, because it stopped and tilted its head away. Truly a feat to spot it before it spotted them; he had only kudos for Cobayon. Still, he had never seen a naga like this before. Sparkly, studded...

"W'ever. Get the big gun up." Locust grumbled. "No time for this trash, I know nagas always come for the wizard. Shoot its face until it goes away or dies. Brando, Décima, take Kalil, go around, take the flamer, fetch Cobayan. You all, get on them." Locust directed the elephant drivers- and their commissioner. A moment later, he started casting a spell.

As Brando and Décima clambered atop that hateful elephant and ran off, Marcel saw another of his comrades, already above the largest of the elephants, hastily load the rifle on the howdah. A big rifle. An anti-material rifle, a 5-foot long monster that had to be nailed down to fire antitank rounds at any target unlucky enough to be on the business end of its cannon. An armored truck didn't do squat against this gun, the abomination's hide wasn't going to do it any good either.

At least, that's what he thought at first.

======

The naga quickly made itself visible- yes, he was huge, unspeakably huge. His form was slender and wiry, his pale cyan hair tightly cropping his long, bony face. Large, unblinking eyes turned towards them, eyes behind imperceptible eyelashes and beneath almost bare brows. Its mouth shifted as it decided whether to parley or skip to the chase.

"Sssssss-so." it hissed, dubiously. "What are you doing here?"

"None of your business." Locust snapped back.

The naga pursed his lips.

"I asked you right, so answer me right." he grumbled. "You are a wizard, there's guns and your tracks all over. I know you're searching for something."

Locust turned to his employer.

"Do I tell him?"

Their employer raised her gaze towards the naga.

"We're looking for a plant." she said.

"What are the guns for, then? And the wizard? Is the plant dangerous?" he asked back, distrustful.

"Everything else." Locust snapped.

The naga hissed for an instant.

"You look for a plant. You defend yourselves if you have to."

"Right."

Just then, Locust realized that the naga was wearing a bronze band in one finger. A ring. He wondered if it was magical- but there was no time to find out right now. The creature had started slithering towards them with a gait that was almost casual.

"THAT'S CLOSE ENOUGH!" he barked.

"Guns- and a wizard." the naga grinned, showing pearly white teeth, too perfect to have ever been used. "These mud oxen don't look fast. If you aren't defenseless it's because you know what happens..." it continued to slither towards the group...

"SHOOT!"

The man behind the anti-material rifle pointed at the center of the creature's chest- its eyes shifted towards the gunner for but an instant. A moment later, there was a loud THROOMPH coming from above the elephant, and a loud sizzle coming from the naga, now holding his chest as it backed off.

"Impossible!" it mumbled, pulling his hand away from his midsection, glancing at the blood.

"Impossible!" Marcel gasped, looking at the creature's torso. That was an instant down, a SNAPPED RIB- or else an exit wound together with a pierced lung! Instead, the bullet had stopped inside its flesh!? Not even the giant black creepy crawlies could take this kind of abuse! All the naga had to show was a small, profusely bleeding pinprick where the bullet had sank into its chest.

The naga kept withdrawing, applying what pressure it could with his hand on his torso, looking at them with a combination of rage and concern.

"Bi... big hecking gun you got there..." he grunted.

"I'll be blunt." Locust yelled. "This was a warning shot. And the warning is, FUCK OFF OR DIE!"

The naga grumbled, baring its fangs.

"Now I'm just angry! Look what happens now!" it roared, slinking back behind the tree, disappearing from view quickly...

Something was wrong.

"Is it running away...?" he heard Giselle asking; only a few moments later, Marcel heard something in his communicator.

"It spotted us, it's hot on our trail!" Cobayon's voice cried.

"Flamed it?" Locust asked.

"We did!" Cobayon snarled. "It's done squat!"

"What!?"

"Fire doesn't do anything!" the voice growled.

"That's impossible!"

"Thanks for the speed up, boss, but... it's going to catch up!?"

"No, I can't let that happen...!"

"Yeah, we know, boss! It slowed th-!"

The fat guy raised his hands, and an instant later, everything went dark. If it weren't that he knew of this spell, Marcel would've panicked.

======

"Can everyone hear me?" Locust's voice asked.

"Yes." eleven voices answered.

"Good. This is the plan." the voice continued, calmly.

Time was stopped in this spell. It was time to do nothing but think and communicate, but it was valuable time nonetheless.

"We know it will catch up to Décima and Brando's elephant, and we have to stop it. Fire doesn't work. Any ideas?"

"Use the anti-material rifle." Saul's voice suggested. Marcel kept respectfully quiet; he had nothing to add. "I know it doesn't do much damage, but it will buy time."

"But we only have so many bullets." Giselle chirped in. "And if it was going to catch up to them, it can catch up to us. We'll need even faster elephants. It's time to use that."

"Okay." Locust said. "I'll drop the spell now. Anything else?"

"Yes, it's important to point we should get on the elephants the instant the spell ends." Marcel finally decided to pitch in.

"That's all?"

"I think I heard him mention something." Marcel continued, dubiously. "Just before the spell took place, Cobayon said something had slowed down."

"So the naga slowed down?"

"Hm." Locust finished. "We'd better remember to bring back the tale too, I've got no idea what this naga is, but someone will want to know it. Over."

======

Even before he could regain full use of his senses, Marcel found himself already climbing halfway up the elephant's howdah; his muscles already knew what to do. An instant later, the elephants started trotting, and another bumpy instant later, the beasts' pace doubled again. He had to stop climbing for an instant as the creatures quickly acellerated beyond their normal limits, clinging tightly to the net under the howdah, gritting his chittering teeth, blood pounding between his ears as he forced himself over the edge of the wooden platform.

Once he was done scrambling in, he held as tightly as he could to its center with his right hand; his left hand quickly felt for another hand stuck climbing the elephant. Gripping it tightly, he pulled his squad leader up with him.

"Thanks." Saul smiled, gripping the howdah as tightly as he could: there were no seatbelts. Luckily, there were no windows, and no other lanes- so he could lean out of the howdah to take a look out into the front, where the other two elephants moved out to rejoin the fourth, which was, he expected, running away from a giant naga. And as soon as the naga came to be within sight, all of the elephants would probably be moving in the same direction: away from the naga.

The bone-jarring ride thumping all over his lower half, he looked a little farther back, marveling a little at the trees and how they were moving backwards so quickly. A little farther, he could spot something more interesting.

Elephants trotted with at least one foot always on the ground; the speed at which the fourth elephant over there covered ground was very, very silly to look at- but it was clearly slower than the elephant he was riding on, which was cause for worry. Behind that elephant, a white and cyan, crystal-studded colossus zig-zagged on fire along the ground, gaining on the little elephant, an excited grin in his skinny features.

Cursing for an instant the pachyderm's trot, Marcel put his shotgun on his back and decided to sit tight for the time being, watching the other flanks for any unwelcome surprises. Right now, the fates of Brando, Décima, and Cobayan's team were up to the gunner on the biggest elephant...

======

In the path they left behind, there seemed to be nothing but elephant tracks. They weren't a problem, they were the tracks of something too big for most predators to eat comfortably: only the very hungry (or very bored) ones would try to go for something the size of an elephant. In the flank arc, away from the naga, he didn't see any creatures worth noting, just birds. There was nothing in the air arc straight up but more birds. Leaving the forward arc to those in the forward elephant, he turned his gaze back towards the naga for an instant...

He caught the naga, its body wrapped in oil that burned mercilessly, baring its teeth at the sight of its pursuers. It knew they were serious- and so did they; if being set on fire hadn't broke its pursuit, probably nothing would. Leaning its torso closer to the ground, it brought its arm close to its body, as if to cover itself- much to Marcel's surprise, the arm's texture glossed over for an instant, dazzling him.

It took all his willpower to look away, but someone had to do it. It was a mesmerizing sight, a glittering colossus as dazzling as the sun, and in fire as well, intent on catching them. With a soft snarl, Marcel turned his gaze back to the back arc- there was still nothing. The flank arc still had nothing worth pointing at. In the air arc, the canopy parted along their trajectory, showing him the sun- better not linger his gaze there too long...

"THROOMPH!"

The sound of thunder once more boomed from the largest elephant- admirable, someone had attempted to shoot from atop a running elephant. And turning his gaze back to the naga for an instant, he realized that the impossible shot had just gotten a lot worse. The naga's arm had turned into gleaming crystal, its facets dazzling beneath the sunlight.

"Dammit!"

And if that sound was any indication, they had missed. He could only imagine how painful the round's sonic boom was for the elephants- silently, he was thankful for the creatures being so brave. No sign of any ambushers in any of the arcs again, he took another look at the naga, almost catching up with the elephant now... as he glanced at the rear arc he saw an elephant had stopped running. An elephant with a gunner atop it.

"THROOMPH!"

The burning naga winced and backed away for a moment- again, to Marcel's surprise. He briefly saw a crack pattern around the naga's elbow, on the arm that had been faceted a moment ago. Blood oozed from the cracks, like the arm had been made of glass- bleeding glass that was set on fire. The elephant quickly gained on the predator, now holding his arm, still using it to cover himself, only that now he was supporting it with his other arm.

Ignoring its previous quarry, the creature launched himself at the elephant that had stopped to shoot.

"YOU'RE MINE!" he growled, just as the elephant took off running again. Unfortunately, it had a lot less advantage than the first elephant had at first- even though the elephants were acellerated, the naga was already on the move. It would overtake the elephant and the gunner on top quickly unless measures were taken.

And as Marcel took a glance at that elephant, he realized that the quadruped was moving SLOWER!?

"Saul, ask Cobayon what slowed down!"

Saul's frantic gaze turned to the neck of his coat.

"Cobayon! You said the naga had slowed down?"

"NO! THE ELEPHANT!"

"Huh?"

"THE NAGA SLOWED DOWN THE ELEPHANT!" Cobayon shouted.

"Captain! That naga DOES negate magic..."

"&%@#$/ª*][¬!"

It was hard enough to know what Locust said even when he wasn't bouncing up and down on top of an elephant trying to think of a battle plan.

"The naga negates...!"

"I %$&ªº#@/{=! KNOW! ºº$€ 7#€ €/@¬!|"

"Eh?"

"ELORI!" the voice cried. "USE 7#€ ELORI!"

"On what?" someone asked.

"ON THE ELEPHANTS, YOU ~#@€¬%!"

"Which ones?"

"ALL @$ 7#ۻ! NOW!"

Saul fumbled in his pockets, recovering an object that looked a lot like a brick wrapped in corn leaves, held together with a string. Moving towards the front of the howdah, he lowered it towards the elephant.

-But how do you make them take it!?- Marcel wondered, quietly, realizing the elephant on the rear arc, the one chased by the naga, was cooperating graciously, gripping in its trunk a similar bricklike object the crew had handed it, and quickly lapping it up.

The three other elephants started to slow down as the rear elephant was slowly overtaken by the naga.

"THROOMPH!"

A lucky shot managed to barely graze the naga, holding it back- for a fraction of second. It was still keeping its profile small, leading with the arms- but there was something different about its eyes now, a smirk in its features like it had figured something out. The elephants all seemed to slow down simultaneously, the naga's profile growing in proximity. He took his shotgun...

"THROOMPH!" the next shot missed-

"GOT YOU!"

It took only an instant for the naga to lunge after the shot- a breathless instant in which Marcel's heart froze. In this field of fire, with the elephant between him and the naga, which right now was keeping a low profile and swinging a hand; he couldn't fire and neither could anyone in the three front elephants, not without risking hitting one of their companions- or worse, the elephant itself.

A little of it was his fault- he hadn't said anything against using elephants. But he had to recognize a measure of cunning in the beast too.

BANG! BANG BANGANG BANG!

So engrossed it had been with the impossibly large gun that had harmed its arm, that the naga had seemingly forgotten completely about the other guns that they could be carrying. Several shots missed- one didn't. Hooray for the other gunners in the rear elephant. However, the creature's burning swing, while it hit nothing in the pain-induced hesitation, managed to definitely slow down the elephants...

...just as they grouped together.

And he knew this part.

"FAAAASSTEeEeEeERRRRRR!"

Gripping as tightly as he could to the howdah, Marcel clenched every part of his body for the wave of acelleration that would start...

...an instant before he got prepared.

Almost like he were riding a mechanical bull -or more accurately, a real bull-, the elephants' stride went from uncomfortable to unbearable as their speed multiplied over, spell and elori put together for an effect that went beyond the impossible. Their frantic paces, viewed from atop the elephant, were almost comical- even as the naga's presence seemed to negate the magic, these brief instants of increased speed afforded them enough of an advantage.

"FFAAAASSTEeERRRR!"

And in the second try, the elephants finally reached escape velocity.

======

The naga disappeared behind them, gasping a curse as he realized that all he had to show for his trouble were the most unexpected wounds ever in his chest and arm. And being on fire, of course.

But if it was any consolation, the naga reminded himself, at least he had tried to make the world a better place. Less of those dangerous idiots wielding dangerous things in this place were one less dangerous thing for people to worry about. He had also showed the gunners their place- as far away as possible. Humans were good eating, but if they were going to get dangerous, better they did it somewhere else.

"Ugh, this might scar..." he looked at his arm. Pierced. Bleeding like a squashed bird. Better not try anything funny, take it easy for the rest of the day. Wow, these guns had totally fucked up his arm, now that the adrenaline was gone, it hurt to move it.

Better not be an idiot about this. He better went get some sorgery. Surcery. Sumthing.

"Hurts like... like itself!" he whined.

At the very least, he had the ring protecting him against fire. If that hadn't been the case, the burning oil still flowing down his back and chest would probably be scarring him horribly right now. Now it only had the comical effect of allowing him to retrace his trajectory... by following the trail of burning oil he had left.

The responsible thing would've been to put it off, but right now, he was on fire.

======

A few minutes later, the elephants, still under the influence of that bizarre magic, stopped near the edge of a thick river. Well, three of them did. The other one instead ran right into the river, by a humongous many-masted wooden sailing vessel, paddling panicked in an attempt to stay afloat.

"Jumbo, what the hell are you doing!?" Priya yelled, as the humans suddenly hopped off the elephant and paddled back to the shore.

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD-"

"Junbo, get a ho-od of youself!" Omar barked.

"Not possible! Not freaking possible! Impossible! What the hell! ISTHSISSISSIN'T HAPPENING! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD-"

"Jumbo, get a grip! You're going to drown!" Priya cried again, the three elephants approaching their white companion as the humans dismounted, respectfully removing their howdahs at the first opportunity.

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD..." Jumbo continued to cry, paddling to less effect every moment. His concerned friends approached...

"Junbo, Aee sayd get a ho-od of youself!" Omar repeated.

"CONTROL YOUR FRIGHT, SCUM!"

"AaH...?" Jumbo tried to look back. So did Priya.

Odd to hear those words coming from Kalil.

"Control your fright. If you don't, I've got nothing against watching you die right here and right now. Now get your ass right here, scum!"

"B... but... Kalil, I..." Jumbo began, his body starting to sink.

"Get a hod of youself, Junbo!" Omar cried again.

"No IFs and no BUTS. Don't make me go there."

"I don't know how to swiiiiiim!" Jumbo trumpeted through his trunk, the only part left above the water.

"Jumbo, hang on!" Priya cried, running into the water.

"Oh, please, you have to be kidding." Kalil trumpeted in annoyance, running into the water himself. Omar stayed back- two elephants took up a lot of room already.

A few moments later, Priya and Kalil dragged Jumbo out of the water. He quickly spat all the water from his trunk, gasping for air.

"You okay?" Kalil asked.

"I... I guess..." Jumbo answered. "It's just... it's all so strange. I... I had never run this fast. And it's... well, it's... so strange. Everything. And I can't... I don't know what to do."

"Youh okay!?" Omar cried.

"Omar?"

"WHAT!?" Omar exploded.

"You're talking too loud!"

"Uh." Omar gulped. "Sorry, that bang's still pounding in my ears. You saying, Jumbo?"

"I don't know what to do!" Jumbo trembled.

Kalil sighed.

"Well, here's what we're going to do, Jumbo. From now on, you're my bitch."

Jumbo looked back at him.

"What?"

"I said you're my bitch, Jumbo. Your ass belongs to me now."

Jumbo gasped, looking at Omar.

"Omar?"

"He's not serious, Jumbo." Omar assured him.

"Ah... uh."

"You're my bitch now." Omar declared. "I'm going to ride your pale, fat ass all the way into New Year, and I'm going to enjoy it immensely."

"What the duds!?" Jumbo whimpered. "This doesn't make any sense!"

======

"You're my bitch now." Friezne declared. "I'm going to ride your pale, fat ass all the way into New Year, and I'm going to enjoy it immensely."

"What the duds!?" Locust whimpered. "This doesn't make any sense!"

"It's in our contract!" Friezne snarled. "I've got the right to demand a retribution to my satisfaction if you cease to follow my orders...!"

"And what do you want to give me orders for!?" the fat guy growled. "Did you really want me to ask him for a timeout, climb the tree, pick the plant, get back down, and then keep running!?"

"That's none of my business. I spotted the plant. We could've gotten it! But YOU came to the boat-!"

"Is that plant all you care about?" Locust hissed.

"Don't give me that. I PAID for your services. Now we can't go back out!"

"I'm not letting NAY-ONE die, for nothing less than a life. You'll have to get your plant someday else, at least you know where it is now!"

"Do you have ANY idea of the resources we've spent to fund this one mission!? THIS ONE MISSION!? We only had SO MUCH TIME!" she growled.

"We don't do things by halves, don't take us for...!"

"FOR THAT PRICE YOU BETTER NOT DO THINGS BY HALVES!" she barked. "But you know what!? I don't need YOU if I don't have a way back! And I've run out of time. I've run out of time. At least now I get to charge you back for botching this..."

Locust let out a long sigh, followed by a snarl, walking away for an instant. She turned away too, closing her computer, and walking up the boarding plank on the seacraft.

"Now get those elephants aboard or I'm leaving you here-"

"First rule of this business is to ALWAYS have a contigency plan." Locust turned back to her. "Now I'm going to ask you right, so I want you to answer right."

"Just give up, you failed..."

"Over my cold and dead body." Locust snapped. "Can you locate where the plant is?"

"We need to depart right now. There's no time anymore." she snapped back.

"Then we'll do it without using any time."

"Just GIVE IT UP!"

"Listen up, idiot! I can retrieve it with NO danger, all I need is your say so!"

"What's your bright plan, then!" she cried, striding, almost shambling, towards him. "What's your bright plan, stupid?!"

Locust grimaced. She had stopped way too close for comfort.

"I brought a jetbiker. Tell her where to go, RIGHT NOW, she returns to the ship on his- on her own! How about that, just stupid enough to work!?"

"..."

She scanned his eyes frantically for a while. Then she sighed, turning away.

"It's no use."

"You don't know THAT. All you know is that it won't cost you another dime."

"It's NO USE!" she grumbled, starting to turn a little red. "I didn't record the location, okay!? All we can do now is get out."

"I did." Locust grumbled.

"Ah...?"

"I can remember just where you decided plants were more important than living, checked my clock when you did. Say so and we'll make it happen." he growled. "Want that plant? Last chance."

She seemed to hesitate for a long instant.

"I don't want to waste your time. You, be my guest, it's just your time you're wasting..." Locust began. "...because you aren't getting a chance to waste more money if you return empty-handed."

"Agh... alright, do it." she spat. "Now!"

"Hm. Saul!" he cried, turning to Marcel's squad leader. "Get the biker deployed now! Tell him to go back twenty minutes at full spellephant sprint on the tracks, keeping in touch! Start full support arrangements! You deadbeats get those elephants in here already, we're trying to run away, dammit!"

Cobayon quickly sprinted into the five-masted ship. Before the elephants ran into the ship, a single gesture from the captain of the small troupe slowed them down to normal.

"Okay, everyone get inside now! You, I'll need your computer." he barked at his employer.

"What?"

"You and your two underlings here, start setting things up for a remote operation." he growled, seeing the long vehicle being slowly carried down the boarding plank, its carefully painted, brown and rough, elongated frame holding one seat and two rockets pointed forward and backwards at the time with some sort of runes on the jet nozzles. "Nail down all the cameras and set them to transmit. Everyone!" he barked. "Saul, you too!"

"Actually I've got the team's camera." Marcel stopped squeezing the water off his shirt, and walked up to the camera he'd thrown to the ground when the elephant decided to take a bath. A woman in a light neoprene suit, looking like she was witnessing a crime in progress, scrambled out of the ship.

"You can't nail down things on my jetbike, it doesn't support nailing down!"

"GLUE THEM, I DON'T CARE!"

"What's that you're gluing anyway? Never said you could!"

"Cameras to watch your back and flanks!" Locust barked.

"My jetbike already has them, and a screen!" she barked back.

"Huh?"

"You told me what we were doing, setting it up was the first thing I did!"

"Set it to transmit, then! Do it fast!"

"Already done, but I need my helmet!"

"You over there!" Locust barked, reaching out and grabbing an arm belonging to one of his underlings, a large man with a round, potato-like, shaved head. "Go to her quarters and get her helmet!" He turned towards her. "Is it okay that he enters your room?"

"Yes, yes, it's in a box near the bed!" she cried. The man nodded and ran into the clipper.

"What frequency are you going to transmit in?" their employer asked.

"Already set it up, it's on the screen!" the pilot said. "Where's my helmet?"

"Start revving up that machine, we've got to get going already!" Locust barked. "Okay, everyone in! Now!" he yelled.

-Finally.- Marcel thought to himself, running up the plank in an orderly manner, now that he knew he wouldn't obstruct any traffic in or out of the ship. The original design for this ship was meant to be boarded from the deck, but a door they had conveniently installed on the hull allowed for easier loading and unloading maneuvers without a dock- not to mention getting in and out of the ship themselves.

======

Just as he had gotten in, he ducked to avoid the man who was right now running out of the ship to hand over that woman's helmet.

"Sorry, Marcel!"

"No, Limnoin, my bad!" he yapped back as he went for the closing mechanism: it was about time to close the door, and the sailors on the ropes were making at him some gestures: looked like they could use a little more help. Next to him, a bald man with a lock-beard and a goatee, and a man with red hair on his head and a U-shaped beard that looked premature with those young eyes, were also assisting the sailors.

"Isn't this boring?" the man with the goatee asked, dryly.

Marcel looked back at him.

"Casull?"

"We didn't get to kill anything." the younger man commented. "All we get is a test of patience after another!"

"Victory isn't measured in skulls."

That quote got him odd looks from both of them.

"We won't always agree, Hogg and I know that." Casull growled. "But a little respect would do nicely as well."

Limnoin ran back into the ship, his broad shoulders almost brushing Marcel as he went for the same rope he was holding. A muffled sound made itself heard from the outside, as the four men pulled the ropes that both raised the door and pulled back the plank.

"At least we get to man a ship." Hogg commented. "I was wondering what was I doing here. My axe's thirsty."

"You're here to stay stalwart, and strong." Marcel replied. "You don't know when you'll be needed."

"My heart is a healthy muscle, but it needs action." Hogg answered. "I don't mind danger. But I'm not like you, I'm not here to wait until I die."

Marcel shot him an odd look in return.

"What's with the evil eye, Marcel?"

"I'm here to make a difference, I'm not waiting for death." Marcel spat, giving a mighty pull as they shut the door. Without any prompting, Hogg went up to another rope, and pulled on it, locking the drawdoor at the top. "I like what I do. It's true most of the time someone else gets all of the credit, and that we don't get to do much. But if we do, we have to be stalwart." he replied.

"Thanks." one of the sailors said. With a slow nod of acknowledgement from Marcel, the sailors withdrew, leaving the four men in that section of the cargo hold.

Casull and Hogg looked at each other.

"Still, I'd like a chance to let loose and do what I do best."

"Well, don't count on it." Marcel replied. "We're not keen on killing, not here. You might have just joined the wrong company."

"Though Locust's rushes are a delight." Hogg quickly replied. "That feeling of power, that burst of strength, the world slowing down around you..."

"And what they gave the elephants can double it. I wonder what it's like..." Casull hummed. "What would it be like to hold that kind of power in a battle."

"Don't count on a battle, again." Marcel replied. "Battles often end disastrously."

"And yet I'm starting to miss them." Casull spat.

"Nothing good will come out of discussing this." Hogg shrugged. "We'll be playing darts."

"See you later." Marcel nodded, looking at the two of them walk away. Then he turned away for a moment, to see potato-head Limnoin look at him.

"You think this is boring?"

"We don't get to do much, but I agree with you. I'd rather make a difference than fight." Limnoin replied. "Anyway, I've got things to do, Marcel, what will you be doing?"

"I'll be on deck." Marcel answered. "It's a nice ship."

"Clipper." Limnoin commented. "Three masts plus foremast and aft mast, with a narrow hull."

Ever the hairsplitter.

"Be seeing you." Marcel smiled, turning to the stairs to the open deck. On the way, he gave a one-over to the elephants, now sitting tight on the aft of the cargo bay. Four elephants- twenty-some tons. Countless tons of elephant food on the fore balanced out their weight, though he was under the impression that the ship might've been magically stabilized.

"Hey, tulip bloom! Apples for me and pals, throw in some oats while you're at it, and I want some spinach too! Oh, watermelons too while you're at it, I'm thirsty!"

Ignoring the rumbling sound, he walked up to deck.

"Come on, you want me to work for peanuts?"

======

On the time it took him to reach the deck, he felt the ship start to acellerate. Sure enough, by the time he saw sunlight again, the canvas squares were all swollen, tugging the ship forwards together with the flow of the stream. For a moment, he reminded himself this river was too shallow for giant mermaids to approach with anything resembling stealth (they had checked beforehand).

Avoiding the busy sailors on deck, Marcel approached a cluster of his companions standing by the railing, watching the jetbike take off, already half a block behind. The bike had taken off vertically, the woman already had her visored helmet on, the jets were turning slowly- and his vision was turning blurry.

"Don't force your sight." Saul smiled, seeing him narrow his eyes. "It's magic, they turn blurry."

"Uh-huh..." Marcel replied.

"I told him that." another of his companions replied. The neko with the dark skin, the crimson eyes, who would've done a great pin-up by the way (if she hadn't already).

"Really, Talvi?"

"Yes, we chatted along the way." she said, looking away into the forest. "I guess it's true what they say, Deeper Felarya really is blue."

Marcel nodded.

"What's on your plate?" Talvi asked, turning to him.

He gave her a quick look.

"Nothing."

She seemed satisfied with the answer for a moment.

"Looking into my eyes won't turn you to stone, you know..." she laughed, lightly. Marcel smiled, turning to look at her. "What's on your mind, anyway?"

"No, the new recruits."

"That elf's a wonder with the arrows, isn't he?"

"Brando." Saul cut in. "He's called Brando."

"I was thinking about Hogg and Casull, actually."

"They look awfully bored, don't they?" Talvi asked.

"They are bored." Marcel said, looking at Saul's nigh-perpetual, tense smile for a moment. "They're disappointed because we don't fight all that much."

"Me too." Saul replied. "But I don't let that cloud me."

"One'd think." Marcel chuckled. "Either way, we did it."

"Hey, don't claim victory too soon." Talvi replied. "We just helped find the plant. It's up to Reneé to get it now."

"The pilot, right?"

"Yes." Talvi chirped. "By the way, Marcel, there's something I've been meaning to ask you lately..."

Anticipation building up, Marcel turned to look at her.

"It's a little tough to say..." she began.

Just then, Marcel heard footsteps approach in the wood. That pace, that speed, the angle the walker had picked, sneaking right behind him, that sound could only be...

"Marcel, the fat guy wants you on the steerage deck." he turned around to see Giselle. "Now."

Taking a deep breath, he felt Talvi´s soft hand wrap delicately around his arm. Something was electrifying about that contact, making his heart skip a beat...

"W... wait, just a second, Marcel..." Talvi began, shyly.

"What's the matter?"

"He wants you now."

"Can you talk to our employer, ask her to let us keep the pictures?" Talvi asked. "I asked Frettel to take a few extra for me."

Oh, the disappointment.

"Sure, can do." Marcel replied, putting on a very brief smile. "Anyway, Giselle, where's Locust?"

======

In that small cabin, aside from Locust and their employer, there was a younger woman right now half-seated at a table by the corner.

"I'll go get that module." that younger woman said.

"No, I'll get it, you keep working." Friezne told her underling, walking out of the room. Marcel stepped aside as he got in, nodding discreetly at her as she left.

"Yes, boss?"

"You've got a good memory, when we get signal I need you to help me identify the tree."

"But I wasn't the one to spot the plant."

"Duh." Locust spat, his face red. "We'll need you to jog our memory."

"Should I mention I wasn't in the rear elephant either?"

"Just do what I tell you and shut up."

What else could he do but nod?

"I'll get some fresh air, back in a moment, don't run away." the fat guy grumbled. He approved of that.

Turning to the woman on the corner, he wondered for a moment what was she doing. If he could help, though, he figured he'd have been asked to.

Still, a little talking now that he could...

"Satisfied with the job?"

"Hm?" she turned to him.

"Just wondering if you're satisfied with the job we did."

"I don't really know much. But if this place's as deadly as they say, and we're all alive, I guess it's okay?" she shrugged.

"Huh." Marcel looked away for a moment. "Your boss is really cranky."

She gave him an odd look.

"Takes one to know one..." she began. "At least she's not like that all the time, your boss makes my ears hurt."

"Sometimes. He grows on you, though. And he never wastes a second."

"Not intentionally, you mean."

"Hope it's the case for her, too."

"Ms. Friezne?" she clicked her tongue. "Have a little compassion. It's not every day we outrun a giant flaming naga on a juiced up elephant while wielding large rifles." she turned for a moment towards Marcel. "Maybe you're used to it, being from here."

"Odd, I thought you were."

"And why did you think so?"

"Because you... how old are you?"

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"You mean...?" Marcel raised his eyebrows, smiling.

She pursed her lips.

"Mean what?"

"...no, nothing." Marcel chuckled. If they hadn't told her, it was probably for a reason. "No, I'm not from here. But the women here don't seem to age."

"I had noticed something of the sort..." she giggled. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-nine."

She looked him over for a moment.

"But don't let it seduce you, everything here is either life-threatening, absurdly expensive, or both."

"Like this trip." she said, giving him an odd look.

"Hey, we have to live here." he shrugged.

"That's alright. Mm, I think I've got a signal..." she continued to maneuver her computer. "Here we are."

He took a look at the screen and hummed approvingly. The camera feed from the jetbike now showed the forest, quite appropriately, though from a different point of view than he had seen it from. The elephants allowed him to see from 16 feet above the ground- the camera was at least a hundred feet from the ground.

"Ms. Clancy?"

"I'm here." the pilot's voice answered from the speaker. "Have you established a visual?"

"Yes, we have."

"Good. I'm following the tracks right now, tell me if anything should catch my attention."

"This would be a good time for you to get our bosses here, Marcel. But first..."

"Yes?"

"...there's something on my mind, why are you here right now?"

"Can you be more specific?"

"I can't think of a reason why get you involved, and everything you said when you got in was true. You didn't spot the plant, you weren't in the rear elephant. So, why did he ask you to come into this room?" she asked, turning to him.

"I used to be his right hand. Guess old habits die hard, he didn't think of asking anyone else..." Marcel said, quite casually. "I'll get our bosses." he turned towards the door.

"One last thing..."

"Hm?"

"I'm Sand. Just saying, I had you at a disadvantage, you've got a tag on your neck..."

He smiled back. Sometimes, it was easy to forget he was wearing a tag.

"Nice to meet you, Sand."

I approve of this.

Anime-Junkie wrote:

I approve of this.

Seconded.

Sehoolighan wrote:

Anime-Junkie wrote:

I approve of this.

Seconded.

Thirded...

I really like the part where - ah hell I really liked the whole damn thing! That was excellent!

The intro letter thingy is pure gold, very well written.
And LOL! You totally got me with that first bit with the elephants, I was sooo picturing Kalil as a neko, what with the big ears and all, I even started picturing a neko with discolored patches around his eyes putting his nose to the floor, that's when I started to suspect something was up. (you being you and all that, it should have been obvious)
I lol'd hard... Well done!

hahaha the same here
This intro with the elephants was just priceless. Way to play with the reader
Great job ^_^

A little slow to start, but definitely picks up.

Hehe... "Working for peanuts".

Clever intro; a good, interesting start.

CODENAME HYDRA

Assignment 2- The End

======

"Once again, I must thank you for being so audacious and expedite. It is a most fortunate twist of fate that we met, and I trust that fortune will continue to smile brightly upon us, just as it has smiled upon you, and just as it has smiled upon me." the man said, grinning behind his black, thick, brambled beard. His dark blue eyes shimmered mischievously in their sockets, as though betraying a good-natured prank.

"Just stop talking."

"I insist. You... wouldn't understand. But, this, this is really important to me, and I have to say it." he replied, slowly.

"Can't it wait?"

"This, no, this cannot wait. This cannot wait, and I have to say it." he continued, slowly, annoyingly. "I would sooner not die without having said it. And this is a dangerous world. I might die, so I have to say it, now, and it cannot wait. It cannot..."

"I GET IT!" Locust barked, trying his best not to bark too loud. "I get it, just stop talking."

"I will not stop talking." he continued, still grinning. "Not until I've said all of it. Until such a time, it doesn't matter how thankful I am, or how badly do you wish me to stop talking, because I cannot stop saying what I'm saying. I have to thank you, and I have to do it properly. Nothing, not a thing, could stop me from thanking you completely, and profusely, to the limit of my abilities."

Locust grimaced.

"If it helps, I apologize. But you have been really lenient. A force like yours. A good force. A reliable force. A good name, and you agreed to help us on such short notice, it's simply a godsend."

"We do the job." he blushed. "Still think you should've taken the boat though."

"No, and that is why I must thank you. A saner man would've taken the clipper for it is safer, but you see that I couldn't risk the clipper. And the reason I couldn't take the clipper..."

"Yes, you told me before." Locust growled. "Heard the Felarya express is taking cargo as well..."

"I couldn't risk the Felarya Express. With all those strangers? Any of them could've been sent for it, and it was known I would be here. I am an audacious man, and the audacious must ever be cautious, for they are never alone in their audacity."

Locust pursed his lips.

-What did I get myself into...?- he wondered.

"Once again, I must thank you for being so audacious and expedite. It is a most fortunate twist of fate that we met, and I trust that fortune will continue to smile brightly upon us, just as it has smiled upon you, and just as it has smiled upon me."

-Oh world kill me TEN MINUTES AGO WHEN HE STARTED TALKING...- Locust thought inwards, looking down at the elephant he was riding on.

======

Meanwhile, one elephant behind, Chisne struggled with his own elephant to keep it moving at a respectable speed. After the driver had quit (which was sort of to be expected, after what he saw), someone had to take the wheel; he had been the only one in his team that had volunteered to try. Beside and a bit behind, the scarred, hairless, bony mug of his squad leader, Alcoosen, a muscular man of lean, tall stature (He had noticed that look seemed to be cheaper by the dozen in this world. It was fair, however- the rule also favored women of angelical looks- or devilish, maybe?), sitting with one knee up, looking out into the treeline. By his side, Brando- one had to wonder if a man had the right to be so handsome. Maybe only if they were elves. Anyway, he was the one wielding a bow and the magical arrows right now- he was a surgeon with that thing. He could probably render a man diabetic with it.

And behind them, Décima. He couldn't think of anything more than skin deep- her mind was unknowable in her usual silence.

"Eyes forward."

Nodding at Alcoosen, Chisne remembered to focus on his job. He checked, mentally- Talvi was on the rear elephant, with Saul, Giselle and Marcel. To the front, there was only the fat guy, riding next to their current charge, and four guys. Hogg, Casull, Cobayo and Resman. Shrugging, he wondered what was Décima doing. That creepy little squirt's only real sign of humanity seemed to be a tendency to playing spontaneous staring contests: she had just challenged a tree for the hell of it, for example.

Suddenly, she gasped. Probably, the tree had lost.

"Use the prismatics." she pointed, to his surprise.

Alcoosen followed her finger with his prismatics.

"What did you think you saw?" he grimaced.

Just for an instant, Chisne allowed his eyes to wander in that direction.

They were surrounded by the myriads of trees of the Forest of Whispers- really, really big trees. Most of them were around as tall as the clipper was long- and those were the small ones. Sometimes in the distance he could see trees ten or twenty times that size- and looking at those trees, the whole forest around them seemed insignificant in comparison. One really couldn't be blamed if they couldn't see the forest for the trees. He had heard that sometimes, trees grew on other trees- but right now, the canopy of leaves above them was thick enough in general that to check would be an exercise in futility.

He could hear in the thick canopy the reverberation of the nerve-splitting littany that the man was dictating on the front elephant- distorted and muffled just enough to make it unintelligible, and so very unnerving. That monotonous voice, droning on with such bold audacity in such a place- it wouldn't be unthinkable if it was keeping the fairies away. Like an eldritch incantation, it captivated him, his heart skipping a beat every time the voice rose, his breath quickening when it stopped only to stop as he heard it resume. The background noise, every bird, every frog, every insect, they seemed to accompany the voice, unstoppable like time itself was, joining that droning chant like a prayer to the antediluvian powers that deep within, the heart of man has no choice...

"...or it's duct tape for you, Sir Talksalot!"

...that wise guy really would do well to shut up, it was very, VERY distracting. Either way, the only thing he could really perceive in the direction she had been looking was a slope that really brought the horizon way too close for comfort. There was a little relief in knowing any ambusher would need that spot.

Except snipers, of course. Then again, the Forest of Whispers wasn't known for housing large amounts of snipers. It was known for its fairies, that's why they had they had brought all the birdshot. Not all they brought, though- this place was also known for its tonorions, and its echydins, and other varieties of equally unfortunate fauna and flora that iron slugs were appropriate for. Some of them were making a lot of noise on the background- soothing, though, now that the guy wasn't droning out a thank you card.

But just for an instant of stray breeze, he thought he caught a glimpse of some golden, glossy- hair?

"Hey, I..." he voiced. "Boss, that..." Alcoosen lowered his binoculars, focusing his gaze on him.

"Yes?"

"I think I saw something blonde." he pointed.

Alcoosen's scarred mug scrunched for an instant, pointing his binoculars over the slope.

"It's gone now."

"Obviously. Stay alert." Alcoosen mumbled, handing over the binoculars. "Look over there, if it moves again, get a good look at it." as Chisne took the binoculars, looking out into the distance, Alcoosen looked around, counting heads in a whisper. "Wasn't an echydin at least."

Chisne kept the binoculars locked behind the mound. Each step at the elephant's gait, sluggish and ponderous, felt too slow- yet in every step, he could tell the pachyderm was uneasy just like he was.

"Chisne, the elephant."

Looking down, he realized the elephant had gotten distracted too; it was starting to veer away from the formation. Taking the "wheel", he tapped the elephant on the head and pointed at the other elephants. A flap of its mighty ears answered him as the herbivore turned back towards its companions. Looking the ground over, Alcoosen lowered his binoculars.

"Like you said, it's gone now."

"What is it?" Locust suddenly cried from the front elephant.

"Whatever it was, it's gone now." Alcoosen replied, feeling now quite uneasy. "Let's just keep moving."

With a nod, Locust turned his face back towards the front, examining the road and the map, while Alcoosen reflected, still as uneasy as the elephant himself, on what was it they could've seen. Even certain it was there as they were, going anywhere near it was pushing their luck. That thing was behind an uphill slope- no point in chasing it to give it the first move once they got there.

And so, the four heavy-footed animals continued their sluggish stride through the forest, under the monumental canopy, four or five humans atop their howdahs.

======

Clutching her hair, her heart thumping hard inside her chest, the naga grinned to herself- that had been close, her hair waving in that stray breeze ALMOST betrayed her, but they... had they seen her? Someone had gasped! She had seen the yummy snacks... just a little more luck and she'd have them all to herself! And there were more than twelve! They had some strange animals... they looked too big to be tasty. She had never seen turtles like those, green but with gray skin and... upside down horns? They were making her really curious and she'd really like to ask about these cute things, but it was time to set priorities.

Giggling quietly, she wondered if she could get one of those turtles when she was done with her meal. It was funny how fast they were, and how they wagged their itty bitty tails behind them. For now, though, she'd have to keep her hair down, and stay hidden. If they had seen her, it was best to wait for next time.

======

"MAAAAN it's hot in here..." Kalil grumbled. "What's the stupid green cloth all over us for!?"

"At least they're keeping them wet." Priya replied. "And we're going by the shade."

"Not wet enough for my blood." he answered. "It's hot enough inside my own skin, fuck!"

"My brain is going to melt right out of my ears..." Jumbo bumbled. "Cattle unwittingly devours the wretched sheep, guilty partaker of the blood of the demented come on their knees to die. So nurtured shall heed the bringer of pestilence as well..."

"My my, won't you look at that, the clown's already gone delirious." Kalil grumbled.

"Well what do you want?" Jumbo cried. "They covered me in green, white is a positive mutation!"

"Why, are you a cave elephant?"

"Pale colors don't heat up in the sunlight as much!"

"Pale skin sunburns easily, though."

"And I'm not delirious, I was just thinking out loud!" Jumbo continued. "Some people feed cows sheep brains, you know? Ground into flour? Well, sometimes the cows eat it, and it should be safe, but later they get sick, bend over and die! So do the humans who eat those cows! It's not a pretty way to die!"

"I'll be curious, explain how it isn't pretty?" Kalil asked, playfully.

"No, don't." Omar rumbled. "Have some tact."

"Shouldn't we be quiet, though?" Priya asked. "If the humans hear us..."

"They can't hear SHIT round our pitch, Priya, get a load at this." Kalil took a deep breath. "HEY, MARCEL! NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN!"

Priya glanced at the humans above Kalil. None of them seemed to react in the least.

"Okay." Omar sighed. "We get it, Kalil. Even then, we don't know about the other creatures..."

"They look just like humans."

"Oh my god." Jumbo began. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god..."

"Don't start with that now, bitch!" Kalil grumbled.

"Uh, sorry." Jumbo blurted nervously. "But still, that thing... what circus did that freak escape from? I mean, we had a woman with a beard, and a man who was so fat he jumped into the air and got stuck, and there was even this kid who was all white like me, he had those creepy red eyes, but that guy took the cake."

"I don't really think he's in the show business." Kalil sighed.

"So... he's more like a wild animal, you mean?" Jumbo began.

"Precisely."

"Oh my god, that was exactly the answer I was hoping NOT to get." Jumbo shuddered. "Wild humans.... like the housebred ones weren't already scary enough! They get everywhere, they control your life, every little aspect of it, and they look at you all the time. With their eyes! And there's just so many of them! Everywhere!"

"He probably wasn't human." Omar cut in. "I'd rather say he was a wild itself."

"A... wild itself?"

"Need any help puzzling it out, Captain Cave?"

Jumbo looked at Kalil, puzzled for a moment.

"Ah, Captain Cave! Because he's old!" he nodded. "Omar, do you need any help puzzling it out?"

"He was talking about you."

"Huh? Ah, right... that thing about white and caverns..." Jumbo bumbled. "A wild itself... so he was like a..." he stopped. "Uh..."

"Jumbo, you haven't had much experience with wild animals, have you?"

"Well, I've seen mice a few times, scary swift little creeps, but... not really, no. Just to be clear, when you say wild, you mean untamed, right? Not controlled by any humans?"

"Something... yes, that." Omar replied.

"Then... who controls them?"

"Themselves."

"Uh, that's one deep thought... what do they make themselves do?"

"Depends on their nature. I know wild lions try to kill baby and elderly elephants."

"That's horrible! What for?"

"For food, Jumbo. They eat meat."

"Uh... ah... right, that's... he, hehe, I, eh, heard something of the sort." Jumbo mumbled, nervously. "Um, no wild lions around here... right?"

"Lions live in the savannah, dummy. We're in a forest." Kalil snapped.

"Sorry. You know, the wild mice... had a tendency to nibble at humans' food."

"Everything eats. Surely you knew that."

Jumbo made a pause.

"I... had a sneaking suspicion that was some sort of universal truth, but... I didn't give it much thought, honestly." he said, sheepishly. "So, most wild animals look for food?"

"Food firstly, but they also have to make sure nothing eats them either- and it's important to make more too." Omar replied.

"Make... more?" Jumbo blinked, clueless.

"Make more of themselves. If they didn't make more, they'd all die sooner or later, and there'd be no more like them."

"Uhh..."

They scanned each other's features for an instant.

"Wait a minute." Kalil suddenly grumbled. "Are you telling me the clown doesn't know how to reproduce?"

"What?" Jumbo bumbled.

"Heh." Kalil chuckled. "Nature's wise after all."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"I'll explain when you're older, Jumbo." Omar replied.

Jumbo blinked for a moment, stopping. A few slaps over his head reminded him to move on.

======

The fat man on the front elephant turned the map around a little, blinking in disbelief as he raised his head, examining the shadows cast by the sun.

"That's west... that's east... so that's south... or was it the other way around..." he mumbled. "No, it's that way."

"Boss." a voice on his hem started. "We think something was sneaking on us a block or so ago- saw blonde hair, likely a hybrid."

"Let's keep putting distance then." Locust replied. "Hopefully it's just hidden and asleep. Keep an eye on it, in case. If it moves, we'll shoot."

"Décima's on it. Do we get the weapons ready?"

"Roger. Everyone, prepare weapons." he replied, touching his hem with one finger. "I'll be damned if it catches us unprepared, whatever it is."

Keeping eyes out in every direction, and one pair with binoculars trained right where the hair had been, the group quickly moved away- though not quickly enough. They could never move away quickly enough from a situation like this.

Then again, maybe it was nothing. There was only one way to know.

======

Half a very long hour later, it seemed like it had, in fact, been either nothing, or maybe something that changed its mind. Didn't really matter- half an hour was a lot of time, and it had been a long half hour too, for a reason. A life-or-death reason, in fact.

The sun stayed bright and indifferent on top of the world, the shadows it cast through the canopy now only serving to highlight its fiery, relentless, all-day-long assault. Across the horizon, all over the landscape, the wildlife was crying in its riotous chorus of defiance, just to let the world know they still lived, that they cursed the sun with all their being, that they still endured ready for another day of callous trials.

The sight of a steady stream down the slope they had just found made the noise tolerable somehow, nonetheless. The elephants had been the first to express their relief, as they trampled down the slope towards the water they had been brought to craving, much to the surprise of those riding them. The whole team dismounted at the first opportunity, some with more difficulty than others- one of them losing his balance and rolling down the slope.

"D'oh!" he groaned.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Chisne gasped, standing up, and dusting off the blades of grass.

"You're a fine mess, you mean." another of the new guys chirped. He was lean, skinny, feminine, with the sort of disdainful face he'd shoot on sight.

"Didn't quite catch your name." Chisne huffed.

"Didn't catch yours either." he replied.

"Chisne Tollin."

"Ah."

After a short pause, Chisne realized he was going to have to ask him what his name was.

"What's yours?"

"Nadimon Ventan." he said. "So, Cheese?"

"Right. Chisne!" he cut in.

"Cheese it is?" he grinned.

"Naaaaaadimoooooon..."

Twenty pairs of eyes locked on a massive bramble patch maybe 50 feet downstream. It had talked. SHE had talked, and she sounded kind of young. There was an odd reverberation to her voice, though, something no one could put their fingers on.

"That wasn't very niiiiice!" the voice chirped, letting out a crystalline giggle at the end.

Even without a word, seventeen weapons got locked on the bramble patch.

"Don't get your panties on a huff, we all know the drill on this one." Locust sighed. "HEY! YOU!"

"Me...?"

"YES! YOU, FAIRY!"

"Fairy...?" it mumbled. Its voice was like candy, ever so sweet and cute, ever so innocent... "I'm Crisis!"

"W'ever..." he mumbled. "Get the fuck outta here and we might not have to hurt you."

"But I'm hungry..." she whined. It was impossible, almost frustrating, to hate a voice like that. She sounded like she was smiling- and her smile sounded contagious.

-That is what we call cute.- Locust thought to himself.

"Well, we're not going to get eaten."

"Yes you are." she began. "I know food when I see food!" she sang.

"Well that does it, we're hitting first. BURN THE BWITCH!" he cried, letting out a mighty clap of his hands.

A tickle rolled down everyone's temples as the world slowed down. Taking a slow breath out, Chisne looked away for an instant as the heat blazed over his face and neck, a stream of burning oil surging from a pipe wielded by Resman, his eyes narrowed and his mouth tight as he swept the bush over with flaming liquid.

An instant later, a flesh-colored shape loomed over the flaming bush. It had not an instant to react as a throng of pellets burst from half a dozen shotguns pointing at it, the blast hiding all other noises for just an instant.

Another instant later, the rest of the shape rose from behind the bush, and in a swift strike escaped backwards, her golden hair waving behind her as her long, smooth turquoise tail snaked behind at the most ludicrously hasty pace she seemed able to muster. With a long swing of her front side, she propelled her torso behind a tree, and then her numerous coils followed her tracks.

Confusing. He had really expected her to be a fairy... but she was gone now.

Hopefully that'd be all.

======

The late noon long since over, the forest had changed its pitch. Ringing insects and crying birds now echoed from barely a sprint away, following the troupe as it gingerly made way across the woods. Though heavy, the beasts' steps were quiet, virtue of the flesh of their soles- or maybe, it was just because of the noise permeating the air, masking all but the tremor of their gait.

An ominous premonition accompanied man and beast alike- Nadimon in particular. This wasn't the first time he saw a giant predator... it was the second. But this one had addressed him. He could still remember that voice in his ears- alluring, musical, feminine, completely unexpected, and far too close for comfort. If it had chosen to, it might've jumped over him instead of taunting him.

But it had. Why would it taunt him?

More importantly, what if the next time it decided not to taunt him?

He turned to his left.

"Hey."

The man met his gaze, his swollen, flaccid, deeply tanned features hiding those small eyes. To him, that was "potato-face".

"Yes?" he asked.

"Lemon?"

"Limnoin."

"That was close."

"But my name's Limnoin, not Lemon." he blinked.

"I meant her!"

"We're okay."

"I know!" Ventan mumbled. "But that was too fucking close."

"Are you worried?"

"What are we doing if it gets that close again?"

"We do our best, like always." he looked around.

"So, we're all putting our heads in our asses and dying like sheep."

The potato face's lips parted for a moment, as if they were so stiff they needed to give themselves some room before pursing themselves. His chin hung low for a moment, his nose sucking air together with his slack mouth. He blinked a couple times.

"You shouldn't say it that way." he mouthed.

"How about this way then: you might have the face of a vegetable and the same intelligence, but I'm not interested in marching to the cookpot with you. So how about you tell me what we're SURELY doing not to get eaten?"

One eyebrow lifted itself ponderously (he imagined that was because it was full of starch).

"Learn some respect." he said. "There's no hard and fast recipe to staying alive, no magical formula, no perfect plan, if that's what you're asking for."

"Thanks, now I really feel like food." Nadimon saw the brown guy smile in response. "I'm not saying we need a perfect plan. But. We. Have. Noth-"

"THIS IS THE PLAN, YOU STASH THAT WHINE, STAND ALERT, AND START PRAYING WE DON'T STAMPEDE INTO AN AMBUSH BECAUSE WE WERE STARING AT YOUR STAMPLICKER!" the fat guy at the front cried. "GOT IT, STAPID!?"

"Crystal." Nadimon hissed, reluctantly.

"THEN STAY YOUR STOPPER!" the fat guy grumbled. "Where do I come up with the spineless and arrogant retards, anyway?"

Ventan grimaced, his stopper stayed. He hissed something unintelligible under his breath, looking around. According to those smart people, there was no way to go wrong with that. All he had to do was follow the outlines in the horizon, trust to his eyes to find anything that moved under its own power, to his ears to catch any sound that didn't seem to fit. Be wary for anything that seemed to break the foliage's silhouette, any sound that didn't belong to a bird or an insect.

CRACK!

Like that one.

"Up there!" someone cried. He took his shotgun, and squinted as he looked up. The thickness of the canopy was treacherous, making the rare piercing ray of sunlight even more blinding. It was a mercy he could still see the branch that had just snapped... he reminded himself not to panic. That was a good piece of advice in any situation.

-That naga, again!?-

The massive creature appeared from behind the tree whose branch had snapped, its torso less than fifty paces away from them. He pointed his shotgun, crying out a curse- she squinted, covering the top of her face. He couldn't help but notice a playful grin on the bottom half of her face as she approached them slowly, wordlessly...

"FIRE!" Locust's voice had never sounded so reasonable.

A chorus of gunshots echoed as the people that could emptied their shotguns against her face and collarbone. She recoiled behind the trunk; he thought he caught a wince, someone had actually managed to hit her.

"FUCK OFF OR DIE!"

"No-pe!" she sang, darting back out now that the first volley needed a refill. Her gargantuan form, the size of a building, crawled smoothly, almost glided, with unsettling speed- a part of him couldn't help but feel they were in a colission course, he needed to look away, he needed to get out of the way!

"FIRE FIRE!"

And as she saw the liquid projector, her eyes widened. She recoiled, letting the flamethrower corner her behind the trunk, only the branch peeking, soaking up the flaming liquid, turning into a fiery bouquet...

"READY THE RIFLE!"

And just then, Nadimon felt something crawl on the back of his neck. And on his temples. The speed-up rush he had heard about, that must've been it, because the world seemed to slow down. Gritting his teeth, he took an instant to assess the situation- the liquid jet had been cut off. He saw her peek out the other side of the trunk, her face a mask of panic for an instant he'd have missed without the spell, tears forming at the edges of her squinting eyes...

"KYAAAAAA!"

Then he realized her tail had uncoiled from around the burning branch, peeking on the other side-

-and the branch was flying straight into the center of those elephants!

Like a well-oiled machine, the man on the front of his elephant had already decided on what to do. Nadimon felt glad for it- the elephant was already accellerated, it seemed, and it was stepping aside from the burning branch as fast as it could.

Just then he realized something quite unlucky. The naga was lunging from behind the trunk- in his direction. Her lips still showed her intense panic- her excited eyes were locked on him- or something just far too close for comfort. The combination of genuine accelleration and adrenaline was terrible- this was the longest second of his life. Her hand was almost on him...

Without thinking, he jumped off the elephant, in time to see the other four occupants do the same thing. His teammates- the potato guy, the neko, and the elf. Her hand seemed to fumble on top of the elephant for a moment, all her prey already out of it, her eyes frustrated, but still excited, her hand clambered down the other side of the elephant, and grabbed something.

He didn't stop. He cried out a curse and ran towards a root, diving under the wood, remembering to reload his shotgun an instant later. Looking up from under the root he saw her long blonde locks, and her palm cramming something through her lips- but he didn't have the angle to recognize anything. He just pointed his shotgun and fired.

And with that, she swung away from the elephants and slithered away in a dash, leaving everyone else untouched. Her departure felt like plunging through a frozen lake- it took a moment for him to realize there was too much world around him for him to have drowned.

======

"FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" the fat guy snarled. "ANOTHER HALF A SECOND... ANOTHER HALF A SECOND AND WE'D HAVE TORE HER A NEW ONE!" he cried, between gasps.

"It's not the time to think about that." the man next to him said. If he recalled correctly, his name was Cobayon. Or something. He had that skinny, tanned physique, that somehow was all wrinkly. Age, if Nadimon recalled correctly, could do that outside Felarya. That, or disease. His narrow eyes were now betraying a hint of sadness- sadness, of all things. They should've been terrified. He was. He had warned them, hadn't he!?

"ANOTHER HALF A SECOND! I CAST THE FUCKING SPELL, WHY DIDN'T WE GET HER!?" Locust snarled, gasping. "I GAVE YOU TWICE THE TIME! WE WERE AT DOUBLE SPEED! WHY DIDN'T WE GET HER!?"

"You can't trust it all to magic. Now we need to regroup..."

"THEN WHY DID I BOTHER!?" he cried again, gasping. "THEY'RE GOING TO... WE HAVE TO HELP THEM!"

"No. We can't. Captain..."

"WHAT'S THE POINT THEN!? WE CAN'T USE MAGIC TO SAVE OUR LIVES!"

"We all knew the risks. She already ambushed us once. If we follow her, it'll get worse." Cobayon stated. "Without magic it'd have been infinitely worse. Keep a cool head, dammit, think only of what we lose and all will follow!"

Clenching his fists, the fat guy seemed to slow down his gasping for a while. Nadimon bounced towards him, watching the people regroup around the elephants, close to the burning branch, and its trail dragged across the ground.

"Nadimon!" he saw a man turn towards him.

"What?"

"Limnoin and Frettel. They got eaten." he recognized the man, it was Chisne, from before. He wondered if he knew he had no eyebrows on that square face with shifty eyes, his square shoulders moving up and down with his gasps. "That's what happened."

"I said we weren't ready." Nadimon growled in response. "I warned you we weren't ready..."

His shifty eyes suddenly locked on him.

"What?"

"I TOLD them we weren't prepared. They told me to shut up."

"That'd be a good idea right now." Chisne nodded.

"Don't tell me to shut up, if she strikes again, what are we going to do?"

Chisne shook his head and walked away. Nadimon saw him clambering up the netting on an elephant- the white one. A little miffed, he turned towards their captain. If he wanted to change anything he'd have to go directly to the source.

"Hey!" Nadimon said, turning towards the captain. He quickly found Cobayon giving him a stare.

"Nadimon, right?"

"Yes." Nadimon replied. "That went horribly. What good did your magic do!?"

"It's not the moment for that kind of talk." Cobayon said. "Get back on the elephant." he pointed.

"So we can get eaten some more!?"

"I told you it's not the time."

"You told me to shut up earlier already..."

Cobayon's gaze changed.

"Nadimon, I don't think you understand." he grimaced, walking closer. "It's NOT the time." he stressed, his gaze locked on him, a vague sense of...

"Are you threatening me?"

"Get ready again. or she'll get us again." Cobayon pointed. "That's all I have to say."

"Doesn't matter! We weren't rea- ACK!"

"Stop disrupting the order." a well-placed slap shoved his face out of the way. "If you won't fall in line, you are a threat to us all. I WILL end that threat. Are we clear?" Cobayon's eyes were wary, locked upon him, his hands slack on his sides.

Breathing between grit teeth, fear gripped him. If the naga wasn't going to eat him, they were going to shoot him instead? Awesome. Looking around, he saw several gazes locked on him- none of them were looking at him in a friendly way.

"Crystal."

"Outstanding." Cobayon replied. "Get on the elephant and keep it loaded."

======

Farther south, Nadimon's hands were twitching a little on his lap, hoping they would cross a measurable distance that day. That creature had come, went, and then come again- taking two with barely any pain. Two lives for almost nothing. Sure, he knew this kind of thing happened in the wild, but he never thought it was like THIS. Buildings of flesh rushing at him, with indifferent eyes and... lips so frightfully healthy, yet so ravenous. He had been warned, thoroughly, but this was more than he could've imagined.

All he could do now was scan the shapes in the foliage, wonder if there were bushes large enough for a building to hide behind, hoping these trees weren't concealing any monsters behind, or above- as he reminded himself.

He could be next, after all, if he didn't. At least she couldn't just hide in tall grass. Were she to appear, it'd be from behind a tree, or from above one, or from an unseen before depression in the ground... unless she found an alternative. He pursed his lips- Décima and Alcoosen had the antitank rifle now. If things didn't happen too fast, and Locust would see to it, one shot could end it all.

That did sound like a plan, in fact! Who cared if it hadn't worked before!?

But he had a shotgun either way. Right now, the plan was not to panic. There was no way the naga was going to attack them where they were right now...

...the front elephant stopped. Almost instantaneously, the right elephant stopped too.

Taking only a brief look at the woman next to him, confirming she was still an elf, Nadimon readied his shotgun.

======

"Stop." Omar said.

"Huh?" Jumbo blurted, realizing everyone had stopped. "Wh... what's wrong?"

"Don't tell me you didn't hear that." Kalil grumbled.

The elephant tilted its head for just an instant...

"Is... that thing what I think it is?" it asked.

"Yes."

"The blonde freak?" it bumbled. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god..."

"The clown says freak." Kalil pointed. "How's that for irony?"

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god..." the white elephant's knee started hesitating. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god..."

"Whatever you do, don't move from your spot, Jumbo, if you don't distract them we might just...!" Omar growled.

======

The elephant under him shifted. It took only a brief instant before there was an itching and a prickling around his temples- and the naga was nowhere to be seen. But the elephant had recoiled visibly in one direction- he looked the other way. To the right, where he recoiled from.

There she was again emerging from behind the bushes! He pointed the shotgun and waited for an instant. This was a job for the antitank rifle. One to the skull, and if she didn't die, there'd be no need to finish her off-

TROOMPH!

-her midsection flattened itself against the ground, right under the trajectory, shifting to her right- now the scarred elephant [Was it Kalil? Or Jumbo?] was between her and the gun on the largest elephant. Not that same tactic again! And she was closing in on Locust!

"Dammit!" the man handling the scarred elephant cried, still grinning- though it seemed more like a frozen grin than a real grin. The three other people atop the elephant, the two women and that ape [Mars?] fired at the lower back of the creature, just before recoiling to the left side of the elephant. He realized her tail was encircling them...

"Move, beast!" the elf next to him spat, coercing somehow the beast into turning around and running while it could. The elephant on the back started recoiling away from the tail too- movement. Even accellerated, if their last engagement had been any indication, shooting from a moving elephant would ruin their accuracy!

TROOMPH!

Yes, it had missed somehow! No time to wonder, the naga's hand was propelling itself right at the howdah on the leading elephant right now-

Several slugs converged on her arm and hand. It was just a moment's hesitation, but it seemingly was enough for the fat guy to grab the charge and hop off the elephant, running at him- she had gotten too close- HOW THE FUCK HAD SHE GOTTEN THAT CLOSE!? What were the guys on the right thinking, starting by that guy who was always grinning!?

A stream of liquid fire suddenly made her torso lash away from the ground, and once more he saw her expression, oddly eager even if she was more than a little scared. Like it was some sort of dangerous thrill- maybe now would be the moment to fire again. He quickly reloaded, the elephant under him already having turned away from her, already bouncing away with its quadruped pace.

Just then he saw her hand sweep towards the man with the flamethrower, right now alone on top of the the front elephant! In a complicated flip, she brought her fingers behind him, and pulled him up- there was a brief struggle before she managed to toss him into her mouth somehow. That kind of accuracy wasn't-

TROOMPH!

Had the rifle missed, had she dodged!? Didn't matter- Resman was in her lips now. Well, right now the only thing standing between her eating him and not was his shotgun. It was already reloaded- and he did NOT MISS. EVER! Pointing at her face, his fingers suddenly froze- he could've put an iron slug through Resman's legs, she was moving, he was flailing, the elephant, the spell...

BANG!

He winced and let out a shriek- he hesitated, he let her dodge. The ground under her torso littered with fire, every second was another step the elephants got from her. She was in an unstable position right now, vulnerable... several more shots followed. She wasn't going to regain her balance- he could actually see a little blood!

Pursing her lips around Resman, she showed him her squinting eyes. He could see something serious now... but still not deadly serious. She was still assured she could get through this. He... wasn't.

Shoving the tree away with both hands, she pushed herself off it, avoiding completely the burning ground underneath her, towards them- All he could see at the moment were the coils of that gargantuan snake-woman propelling her torso towards their elephants, her mouth slightly ajar, her lips parted, her FANGS out in the open, her tongue holding someone.

With the kind of timing he needed to see to believe, her hand was about to drop on the man who had the antitank rifle. It took just an instant for him to recognize Alcoosen! He fell flat, his companions trying to recoil in whatever room they had on the howdah. Greedily, her hand tightened around the whole elephant...

CRUNCH!

Everyone had a limit. And for Alcoosen, half the wooden howdah crushed into splinters, the rifle now hanging on the side, was enough for him to try and scramble to the front. So did Décima. So did the other elf, and so tried the last man in that elephant, his boot now caught in her fingertips. With a deft pull, she tossed him in her lips, which came to hold him, and using her arms she dragged herself over the ground, withdrawing her main body behind a tree and at the same time laying her tail to block one last elephant.

======

The iron pins in her tail were far from pleasant, but she could take it. Surprised at the speed of the elephant, diverting its trajectory around her, she tried to double around it, trap it under her tail- too late, it narrowly evaded her crotch, running right back around the tree towards the formation. She made one last lunge towards the creature as it rode up a slope.

She grabbed the howdah. All she managed to do was give it a shake, all of the individuals in it suddenly holding on for their lives. With one last effort, she grasped at the howdah with her other hand, and managed to close her hands around two of its occupants.

And then she pulled. One came loose, but she managed to keep the other one in her hand, even if only by a thin grasp.

Four elephants already a fair distance away, her whole length uncoiled, and too many bullets in for comfort, she slinked behind the tree, flush red with effort but glowing with enjoyment, giggling a little to herself, two humans in her mouth now. That hadn't been as good as it could've been, but she hadn't got shot... all that much. And for some reason, those yummies were writhing in a fashion so swift that she had never experienced before. She could feel magic on them... maybe that's what was making them extra wriggly.

She let herself taste them quietly for a moment, waiting for herself to calm down before swallowing, for them to calm down before swallowing.

The one in her hand right now was another neko, but this one was a girl and she looked very spicy, like cinammon!

"Well..." she hissed, looking into her eyes. She didn't look as frightened as the rest, but she looked just as tasty. Even if she had a nasty frown and a grimace. "I'll just be glad Giselle's okay."

"Mmm?" she asked, curious. But the neko didn't answer. Right on time for her to swallow the two humans, and free her mouth to ask...

"Is she tasty too?"

"Dunno, I've never eaten her." the cinammon neko pursed her lips. "You said you were Crisis, right?"

"Yep! My name is Crisis!" she beamed.

"Fitting." her eyes widened, as she took a deep breath.

Blinking a few times, Crisis looked into her eyes. It looked like she was about to say something.

"Are you going to say something?"

Shaking her head, Talvi averted her gaze, trying not to think that albeit keeping her balance had been no challenge, maybe she should've grabbed something instead.

She sighed, taking off her coat, revealing a black muscle shirt beneath. Her pants still contained all of her rations... best to go with them. And squirm, she reminded herself, as she saw herself held over the creature's massive maw. She looked at the pink flesh, darkened by the contrast between the shadow cast by the canopy and the perfectly lit ground in plain view.

And as the fingers let go, she let out a cry, shielding her eyes- the next thing she knew was that she had been put somewhere tight and wet. Trying to keep the liquid from her face, she couldn't help but think of the rough tongue rubbing against her pants right now. She folded and closed her legs, almost going into a fetal position- in response, her arms were pried from her face and chest, while her back was rammed against the palate...

======

Once they dared slow down, the elephants stopped. Still running next to them, the fat man stopped too, and released the other man from his arms, dropping to his knees, panting frantically.

"That... HEADCOUNT!" he cried.

Alcoosen, still on half a howdah, looked around for an instant.

"There's twelve of us left." he frowned.

"Twelve... she got THREE?!" Locust barked, between gasps. "SHE GOT FIVE ALREADY?!"

"Resman, Talvi, Frettel, Chisne and Limnoin." Cobayon pointed.

-Chisne.- Nadimon thought to himself. -Well, I guess you don't mind me talking now!?-

"Well, what do we do!?" Nadimon cried. "We need a new plan!"

Cobayon glared at him. He let out a cackle.

"What's the stare for!?" he grinned. "Either YOU do me in, or SHE puts me in! We are ALL going to die if you don't come up with a new one!"

"Your tantrum is worse than useless." Cobayon replied. "This is your last warning. Be silent."

"Hah! You mean like her...?" And then he felt someone nudge him. "What?" he turned to his left.

"You are not helping." the elf next to him replied, her eyes glaring just as intensely.

"DOES ANYONE HAVE A PLAN!?" Locust barked. "NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME!"

Drawing in a deep breath, Cobayon clicked his tongue. "If we keep shooting while moving, we won't be able to hit her."

-Elephants have brakes now?- Nadimon thought to himself.

"Be ready to arm the rifle on the ground." the man completed. "Chigurh?"

"Understood." the female elf next to him said.

"Wait! I'm the best shooter!" he interjected.

"But you're shaking." she replied. He clenched his fists for a moment...

"I'm not! Look, do you have a problem with me?"

Once more, Cobayon glared at him.

"If you have a problem with me, why don't you just tell me now?"

"THERE'S NO TIME!" Locust barked. "DO WHAT HE SAYS, STAPID, OR WE'RE ALL NEXT! I DIDN'T HIRE HIM FOR HIS LOOKS!"

"Say, why are YOU the boss anyw-GH!"

This hadn't been a slap. This had been a full-on punch to the face. Reeling for a second, he managed to open his eyes just enough to see that gorilla, Mar... something, the guy who looked like an auburn tulip on top of a bouncer.

"I hit you."

"OH REALLY!?"

"Quiet, or no one will be hitting you again. Is that clear?"

How dare he.

That glare in his eyes was offensive. Another glare. Wasn't the first one enough? He felt the bile well up around his tongue... being new or not, he had done nothing to earn himself this degree of condescension. His lips warped around his teeth, his hands clenched like his throat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His teeth parted to let out a guttural scream of defiance against the subhuman that had wronged him...

"Nadimon."

Someone propped herself in front of him, far too close for comfort. Still that elf. Chigurh.

"Count to ten." she whispered.

"What!?"

"Just count to ten." she hissed.

Nadimon waited for a few moments, unsure of what to say. The ape was going off to meet the guy with a grin, he couldn't see Cobayon behind that woman...

"Don't look at him, look at me."

"What is this about?"

"We really don't need you exploding right now."

"They shouldn't treat me like this."

"Cut them some slack. If you don't give any on your end, you're dead."

"Fine by me."

"WE are all dead."

"Well, I think I've given enough."

"Give more. This has to work."

"And how much am I to give?"

"As much as it takes. No two ways about it." Chigurh said.

He stood still, unsure of what to make of that. His breathing was loud, but she didn't seem to notice- he followed her eyes as they looked at his pursed lips, at his flaring nostrils, at his glaring eyes. And then he saw something behind her. That gorilla, Marcel, was right now being chided by the guy with a massive grin.

But something was wrong. They weren't that far away... and he couldn't make out a word of what they were saying. He had always prided in his good hearing, but now, all he had was a ringing noise now. He realized the boom of the shotguns was still in his timpani, muffling it all as if ringing cotton it were. Whatever little noise his useless ears caught, or maybe he thought they caught, was distorted enough in scale and position to tell him absolutely nothing.

With a heavy-hearted gulp, he realized he'd spaced out- Chigurh had been right in front of him, now she was talking to Cobayon.

He trembled, realizing he might very well become the weak link...

======

Trying to take a path that kept the trees and other terrain features as far away from them as possible on their way south, they had deviated heavily from their route. Ideally, they should've kept to the path that was gripped by trees the tightest, somewhere the trees were as thick as possible, so as to make sure the fairies couldn't see them too well... but that naga had become a far higher priority. Her name was, indeed, Crisis.

And this time, Brando was sitting on the side of his howdah, barely grasping a massive rifle he probably didn't know how to use. He sat next to Chigurh on the center.

"That's our plan?"

"Yes." she replied.

"I can think of a hundred things that can go wrong with that."

"Can you think of how to get around them?"

"Not really."

"It's still our best plan." she said. "Brando can pull off that shot."

"Why not me?"

She took a short breath.

"Because you're cowering."

A host of unconnected sensations rushed to keep him safe from those words.

They rushed in vain- already shaking, he conceded his defeat.

"Fine." he coughed, holding back the tears, trying not to embarass himself. Every empty instant that followed made his task grow more difficult.

Just then, one of the lookouts signaled.

"That doesn't fit." Alcoosen said. He was standing up, binoculars in hand, pointing at a fallen tree. Nadimon just needed a quick peek to realize that... indeed, it didn't fit! These roots were too clean, the dirt around them had been disturbed recently, the grass stuck was too green, the humus too black. That tree had died long ago, it was hollow, but the dirt had been dug up recently.

"She's here."

"I can't... keep acellerating things much longer." Locust sighed. "I'm... nearly out of power. We... have... to make this one count."

"I trust our fortune will level?" their charge asked, sounding worried. Nadimon gasped- he had shut up for so long. It could only be a bad omen.

"You trust that." Locust sighed. "Chigurh, Brando? Faster..." he sighed, raising a hand.

Immediately, Chigurh and Brando dropped from the elephant, leaving Nadimon alone. He followed the two of them, her black hair, his brown hair, as they hit the ground.

"Okay, everyone else, have everything ready. End it here, this is our best shot..." he sighed.

He couldn't quite see Locust, but he could see the concern in Cobayon's face. Reluctantly he reminded himself they were all in this together. This was mortal terrain. Here, he fought.

The rifle was set up behind them, the two elves ready with it, nine gunmen ready to protect those elves, the flamethrower poised, and the dead tree straight ahead. It was, as he reflected, wrong for something simple as a dead tree to be so ominous. It was just a dead tree after all. A dead tree that some overgrown freak had dragged all this way because she wanted at their flesh. If anything, he should feel both flattered and relieved.

Flattered she had went through all that trouble. Relieved she had thought of nothing better.

And much to his delight, she sprang all of a sudden across their path, closer than the dead tree. She kept a low profile- but they had spread the elephants this time for a broadside attack. All nine guns were trained on her. The elephants wouldn't advance- but they had yet to move away.

The first volley made her retreat back behind her trunk- and shift a bit farther from them. She moved once more across their path, from a farther distance, just over the tree trunk, still keeping a low profile. Firing again, he thought it was interesting that their shotguns were getting less useful at those ranges. If that was her idea now, she was in for a surprise.

THROOMPH!

"Aaaack!"

The steel ray dashed along the ground thundering into her scales, ripping sidewards through her flesh. She recoiled with unexpected pain and newfound dread- much to his joy. For once, she didn't look like this was a game.

"That hurt!" she complained. Then he fired, together with the rest- she withdrew behind another tree, still up, unlike the trunk her tail was behind. She had them blocked- but she wasn't going anywhere.

"Okay, now go that way. Slug fire to drive her out... THEN YOU TWO SHOOT HER WHEN SHE GETS OUT!"

Smiling, Nadimon reloaded his shotgun. It was about time to take the rook- as soon as the bishop put it in check, it would move somewhere the queen controlled. A most elegant endgame to this particularly challenging match. If only the set hadn't wound up five pieces short on the way.

Keeping his gun trained on the tree trunk, he grinned to himself. This was finally looking up. He could do this. Everyone could.

The trunk was loose.

And hollow.

It tilted as her tail wrapped around it-

"OH SHIT!"

======

The trunk flew towards them, spinning unnaturally in midair. Gasping, Nadimon averted himself just for an instant, falling off the elephant and into the ground, feeling it rumble with the frantic hesitation of the swiftly lumbering beasts- recovering quickly, he stood up just in time to see the massive bulk of the naga go past him.

Crisis' massive bulk. Her name was Crisis.

Time seemed to slow down- no, freeze. Freeze completely, his view of the naga's silky smooth skin, of her eyes and face just turning to face him, of her every youthful feature... she looked so young and yet he knew her as so deadly. She looked so innocent, but... what she had done wasn't nice. He still recalled her voice, calling out his name, and now, her teal eyes barely seemed to recognize him. To even acknowledge him. She had named him, but now...

...she was about to unname him.

Ducking, she slithered by at full speed- it took him a moment to realize she was trying to avoid the flamer jet at all costs.

"NOoOO! COME BACK!"

His lungs froze as he saw her disappear behind the trunk- he remembered what was behind that trunk.

Evident powerlessness seemed to bleach all detail of relevance. He had wanted to fight- now he just wanted it to be over. Nothing would make a difference- or maybe running. Nothing else made sense now. He had to run.

Locust didn't run away. He saw him running next to him, heard his steps on the ground- swift, but ultimately in vain.

"WAIT! WAIT!" the fat man cried. Nadimon's eyes drifted towards the naga, now resting her hands over the trunk, having just gulped something...

"WAIT! LET HIM GO AND YOU CAN EAT US!" He could yell. Yes, he could yell...

"But I already ate him!" she cried. "Can I eat you anyway?"

"No! Spit him out and we won't fight!" he offered. He'd get no argument from him. There was no way to make a difference, there was nowhere to run to.

"But... I've eaten a lot of things, I can't spit anything out now." she answered.

"Look, just... please, do it! We won't fight! Do YOU want a fight!?"

"No, but..." she pouted. "If I have to spit him out, we can keep at it." she smiled. "It's really not that hard to eat you anyway!"

"WHAT!?"

"It's kinda fun actually!" she beamed. "You don't hurt that bad. I think I'll be done before sleep time."

He could only see Locust's back. But he could see him shake. He wondered if he shook that way himself.

The fat man shook his head. From her reaction, he'd mumbled something unintelligible- something she hadn't been able to catch.

Or wasn't interested in. She was going to end it. He saw her hand, slowly creeping towards the fat man while she greedily surveyed his shocked body- she had marked him for next.

Mere fractions away, the fat man darted away- her hand only recoiled because of a blazing jet of burning fuel. He felt her slithering form drag itself away from them at a steady pace- probably off to devour the two elves she had caught.

Emotionlessly, he watched his fat boss stumble forward on his way back to the elephants, and crash unconscious on the ground next to him.

======

Those elephants had obviously been well-trained, Nadimon thought, feeling their brisk and jarring pace under his howdah, the remains of their force regrouped already. The question was, would they get away from that naga before the night?

"We've sustained seven losses and lost our charge." Cobayon said, atop his elephant.

-And our wizard is down, and the antitank rifle is down.- Nadimon thought to himself. -And I can't hear, and we're all going to die...-

"If there is anything we have to learn from this is that we cannot underestimate that naga." he continued. "I guess we'll have to put distance while we're able. The last spell accellerated the elephants."

"Can't you wake him up?"

"He'll be more useful rested." Cobayon pursed his lips. "We should also economize the flamer fuel."

Why? Just one more thing to run out of. Like they had run out of luck.

And they would run out of life next, he thought, his ears still ringing... it'd be fine, as long as it was over afterwards.

He tried to follow the sun's trail as it lowered itself to their left. South, they were going south. He made sure not to chuckle to himself. Best not to think such things- but impossible. The afternoon grew silent, and together with the incoming darkness, he felt alone with his ringing ears and the steps of the elephant. The atmosphere threatened to choke him... and he, dead man sitting on a walking elephant, would welcome it.

He felt himself drift into slumber...

"Oh my god..."

"Huh?" Nadimon turned. He couldn't see anyone.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god..."

He looked around.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod..."

Swiftly his head turned- and he saw...

"Limnoin...?" that was the closest he could match that voice.

"OHMYGODOHMYGODSHESTHERE!"

"What...!"

He couldn't even gasp.

"Over there!" he cried, firing his shotgun. A chorus of shotguns answered him, the naga suddenly darting out from behind the brush, towards another. He reloaded as fast as he could, but...

...he couldn't reload fast enough. All he could do was hop out of his elephant, on the slope, nearly lose his balance, see her form move ever closer, then hear the crackling of the flamethrower and the steps of his companions, the booming elephants' steps as they seemed to abandon them, the crackle of thunder that wiped the air clean of all other sounds...

The flamethrower finally fell off the elephant it was assigned to, and with it, their last hopes. It was the end, at last. He could finally give up. He could feel the voices of phantom warriors- soon he'd be one of them.

"Priya, watch out for crossfire!"

Shaking his head, he regained his wits. The flamethrower was down, and she had just bent down to pick someone up. The flamer was down by her hair.

"OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODKILLITWITHFIRE...!"

By her hair.

"CONTROL YOUR FRIGHT, SCUM!"

Whoever had told him that, he thanked, as he loaded a buckshot shell into his shotgun. This could work, or it could not, but... there went nothing.

BANG!

Crisis tilted her face towards him for a minute, her tail twitching a little. He had hit... or not. But he had drawn her attention. Well, all of their attentions. Okay, his plan had failed. Like buckshot could penetrate the fuel tank... no, his shot hadn't managed to rupture the fuel tank and expose it to the open flame.

BANG! BANG! BANGANGBANG!

But it had only been the first of many!

BOOM!

The naga released her prey in an instant. Crisis released her prey in an instant. Finally. She recoiled from the flames on her own hair- the stench of which was almost liberating as they swung back into her. She tried to keep her distance, twisting and bending, but the flames only spread closer to her scalp. She tossed and shook her arms wildly- he withdrew behind the nearest root, overjoyed.

"THIS IS HORRIBLE PUT IT OUT PUT IT OUT PUT IT OUT PUT IT OUUUUUT!" she cried, tears in her eyes, tears of genuine panic. Young or not, she'd learn a lesson today. Almost poetically, one of the elephants turned around in its escape, and charged towards her, trumpeting.

"How's it done?" Nadimon grinned.

"With gusto!" he couldn't quite place the voice, as one of the elephants suddenly charged at the naga whose hair was on petrol. The one with the scarred face and the brown skin.

Crisis panicked another instant before suddenly turning tails and running off. Behind her, the elephant, tiny in comparison, seemed to follow her.

"Light my fire, baby!"

"AAAAAAAH!!"

Walking back to the elephant, which seemed to give up after a while, Nadimon saw the rest of the company gather themselves. Much to his chagrin, the six shooters that had attacked the flamethrower had included Cobayon.

"Outstanding, all in all." Cobayon said, with a small smile.

"I had frozen. You told me to control my fright."

"That's true." Cobayon smiled.

"It was a bit strong that you called me scum, but I guess it helped wake me up..." Nadimon grinned.

"Scum? I never called you anything of the sort." the man frowned.

"Yes. You yelled out CONTROL YOUR FRIGHT, SCUM!" he raised his eyebrows.

Cobayon examined his companions' gazes.

"No, but... it doesn't really matter anymore."

"It doesn't." the fat guy grumbled. Looks like he had woken up. "We lost our charge..."

"We'll move on."

Locust's head wobbled for a moment, as he staggered to his feet. "Yeah... yeah, we will." he mumbled. "Headcount."

Once they were all gathered, much to their ironic relief, they counted ten. It was, after all this time, kind of funny that they had managed to get the naga off their hair only in the last pass, the one where everything seemed hopeless...

"Okay, everyone..." Locust grumbled. "Go get the elephants and let's... get the hell outta here before we lose seven more people." he said, between gasps, managing something of a wince while looking for smile. "We'll make it through those darn woods yet!"


======


With a general feeling of relief, somewhat weak on the knees, and giddy in his deafness, he turned to the elephant, covered in netting... and advanced, feeling there was nothing left to fear in the world. Smiling.

Then there was a sound- a skittering, followed, as his eyes locked in on the source, by a roar- and a massive black form dashing towards him and the elephant. He raised his gun...

...and screamed.

That was a great chapter! Crisis can really be scary sometimes
I laughed out loud at the bit where Kalil rickrolled Marcel, completely ludicrous...

Replying to your comments:

======

Codename Hydra 3

ASSIGNMENT 3- Codename HYDRA

======
Negav's original idea goes to Servomoore.
Credits to Jætte_Troll for the tiers of Negav.
Thanks to Timing2 for help with the Rainbow Loft.
Credits to rcs619/Cliff for inus.
The Wulf family was begat by Gorger/Slimetoad.
The Mercenaries' Guild is the invention of CauldronBorn24 and Ravaging_Vixens.
======

He sighed into the foam atop his mug, not daring take a sip yet. It was hot enough to sear his knuckles. His companion in front of him kept his sighs to himself, for some reason. Well, that was his problem.

"Think they're coming?"

"Yes." the man blinked, looking at his own tea mug from behind his scarred mug.

"They're late."

"We're not in any hurry right now, Marcel." Alcoosen raised his gaze, not his voice. Marcel looked around- their table at this nearly empty cafe was ready to seat six, like all the others, but only two sat here right now.

"We could've invited Décima."

"Or Giselle. I think she likes you."

"Nah." he clicked his tongue. "Trust me, I tried."

Alcoosen nodded, with a small smile.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Keep waiting."

"And then?"

"We can hang out."

"I mean after that." Alcoosen took a deep breath. "All this death isn't going to go away."

"People die all the time." he grimaced bitterly. "We were ready for this."

"We thought we were." Alcoosen tapped softly his mug with his fingers. "Don't give me that look. We thought we were ready. I know you'd have died if it helped. I'd have died myself."

Marcel nodded quietly.

"But we didn't." he raised his gaze. "We're alive. Better think about that."

"Like Casull and Hogg did?" Marcel pursed his lips.

"You knew it was just a matter of time before they left." Alcoosen licked his lips. "Like with Nadimon."

Marcel felt around inside his mouth. Then he smirked.

"I wonder why..." he hissed, bitter. "...the elephant fought to the death to save him."

"Why did HE have to survive instead of the elephant, I wonder?" he chuckled. "Never liked that kid."

"Not our problem anymore either." Marcel replied. "But I'm glad he survived."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He chose his career poorly..." he sucked air in between his teeth. "Now he knows better."

Alcoosen nodded.

"Isn't it interesting, though..." his fingers caressed his mug. "This situation, I mean."

"What about it?"

"Here we are, waiting for Saul and Cobayon." the scarred titan grinned. "For all we know, they're dead, or they've left to never return."

"They promised they'd come."

"We were seventeen, seven died, three left, seven remained..." Alcoosen growled. "It might not be a promise they can keep. What would be the point, after all? There's only 7 of us left- and that's if you don't count losses like the antitank rifle, the flamethrower, and the most important thing of all."

The other man started caressing the coffee mug.

"Our reputation..." he mumbled.

"Heh." Alcoosen grinned. "We broke policy... never thought everyone knew about it."

"Breaking policy wasn't what killed our reputation." Marcel grunted.

"Hm?" Alcoosen smiled, expectant.

"Stupid people killed our reputation. You can't tell anyone anything..." he frowned. "Might as well take a vow of silence."

"Ri-diculous!" Alcoosen grinned. "That way lay madness. Fools are endless- you can't let them burden you."

"What do we ever let fools do?"

"We let Nadimon join us."

Marcel chuckled.

"Comes with the territory, I s-"

"Hey!"

Looking up, Marcel's eyes landed on an unkempt, scruffy individual whose face revealed an almost dangerous level of enthusiasm seated now next to his companion- despite he purposefully hadn't left enough room for anyone to sit. Personal space didn't seem to mean squat to this man.

"You the food guys right?" the man grinned. One instant looking at his clothes would've turned anyone into a snob. One instant looking at his hair would've prejudiced anyone against gingers forever. "You foughts naga?"

"Yes, we fought a naga." Alcoosen replied, visibly uncomfortable.

"Heh, true story!" the man laughed. "Heard she was like a hundred feet tall, and fire, magic, guns didn't hurt her! No wonder you all got eaten!"

"Not all of us." Alcoosen frowned. Marcel looked at him blankly.

"DUH. Obviously not everyone... say, you stupid or anything?" the man sucked air in, frantically- from Alcoosen's face, Marcel came to feel that maybe their new, unsavory friend didn't wait for noon to start with the hard drinks. "What you drinking?"

Looking into his companion's eyes, Marcel realized the time had come to tell this stranger to piss off.

"Was she naked? Hot and naked? Was she, like, blue? What's her tongue like, I wanna know?"

"We weren't in her mouth, idiot." Marcel grunted.

The stranger suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, giving him a rough shake- one that was too feeble to do anything other than piss him off.

"Give me a break, you must've caught at least a glimpse! Tell me, dammit, what her mouth was like!"

Scanning the bar, Marcel stood up- assuming the man was from the table far in the back, there were only three men there. Two against four could be unfair- but he had a secret weapon. Well, not so secret.

As Alcoosen stood up, pushing the man off, Marcel closed shoulders with him- showing him one of the few laws that were universal in Felarya.



Size.



Alcoosen measuring a titanic six feet seven, Marcel being an even six feet four, both built like furniture, they could quickly show the average man the error of his ways.



Unfortunately, the average man doesn't cram fifty litres of beer in five litres of blood by ten o'clock in the morning. Maybe this wasn't an average day?



"You guys leaving?" he guffawed.

"Go back to your seat."

"Aw c'mon, I'm just having a little fun!" the man laughed. "You're fun guys, you're fun food!" he suddenly giggled like he was the funniest goof in the world. "Get it?"

"We're expecting someone."

"The more the merrier! Who doesn't like having lots of food at the table?" he giggled again. Marcel found himself longingly looking at the closed windows... everyone could tell violence wasn't a good idea, but damn if it wasn't a satisfying one!

"Go back to your seat." Marcel insisted. "Now."

"Hey, don't get your p-"

"Now."


Much to their surprise -and probably to his own- it worked. The man shrugged, and with a catty "okay, whatever, you miss it", went back to his seat. Somewhat satisfied, the two mercenaries sat back down.

"I'd have liked to rough him up a bit."

"Me too." Marcel pursed his lips.

Looking out the window, he saw two familiar faces walk by- one of which had a grin plastered, and pulled a face as it returned the look, the other one somewhat more distinguished, with several gray hairs. He waved as the men walked in, a bit surprised at an unfamiliar detail...

...the short mane of white hair around the grinning man's scalp.

"Hey there!" Saul laughed.

"Sorry we're late." Cobayon nodded, with a distinguished, slow voice. "Would you like a fresh coffee? Yours must be cold by now."

"It's fine." Marcel replied.

"Did you dye your hair?" Alcoosen asked, turning to Saul.

The man rolled his eyes. The grin on his face wouldn't come off- it left his eyes to do the expressing.

"Nah, it was always like that."

"Your hair was black."

"Colorless, actually. This is what happens when I grow it out." Saul replied.

Marcel and Alcoosen exchanged confused gazes.

"We had no idea." Marcel said. "We've known each other for, what, eight years now?"

"Gee, why didn't I advertise my hair was a party trick?" Saul chirped, still grinning. When he did it with no joy, he kind of looked like a skull.

"Why didn't you cut it really short like always?"

"Didn't feel like it at the time..." Saul let out, annoyed, but still grinning. "We brought you terrible news." he grinned.

"We may very well have to split." Cobayon finally cut in. "We came from talking to our boss."

"So how are we taking it?" Alcoosen asked.

"We have been pushed down in level." Cobayon replied. "Our pitiful display of incompetence and unreliability..."

"Hey!"

Marcel's outburst surprised him, almost making the aged man recoil.

"What display of incompetence and what pitiful unreliability!?"

Cobayon tilted his head.

"It's true, Marcel..."

"Where did they get it from!?" he protested. "Who told them anything!?"

"Locust himself gave them the facts." Cobayon pursed his lips. "They have interpreted it was a pitiful display of incompetence and unreliability."

"So we're not cleared for another flamethrower, OR for another antitank rifle." Saul sighed. "Or for anything fully rifled, or fully automatic, or explosive..."

"Wait- did you say "fully rifled"!?" Marcel narrowed his eyes. "That restriction is insane no matter how you look at it! Where, exactly, is the harm in a rifled weapon!?"

"Apparently..." Saul chirped. "We can't be trusted with the safety of a weapon of such versatility anymore. They think we'd lose it and someone would end up using it for murder."

Marcel shook his head, letting out a grunt. With a short sigh, he finally returned his attention to the mug of coffee in front of him, taking a generous chug.

"All we ever use are shotguns, either way, so it doesn't really matter. We're still cleared for iron slugs, right?"

"Yes, we are, but there's another problem." Saul replied.

Marcel took a deep breath.

"We're too few."

"Exactly." Cobayon spelled out. "Our manpower has been reduced significantly."

"Seven is as good number as any other!" Marcel protested. "There's mercenary groups out there with five or six members!"

"But our performance has merited an uncommon, misguided display of reasoning. If seventeen couldn't protect a single man, much less themselves..." Cobayon replied, his gaze low "...how can seven be a good number?"

Marcel grimaced.

"This isn't fair."

"Nothing is in love and war." Saul shrugged.

"What, did anyone profess their love for us?" Alcoosen sipped his coffee.

"We should focus on our next assignment." Marcel said, chugging his coffee a little.

"If there is one..." Cobayon replied. "It's not like our records are private."

"I say we just buy a rifle anyway. No one's going to check what's authorized and what isn't. Hell, let's buy several. Assault rifles for everyone." Alcoosen said. "We've got more than enough money for that, no one checks stuff like that!"

Cobayon and Marcel gave Alcoosen a glare.

"What's wrong?"

"I think someone would notice a large purchase of assault rifles and relevant ammo."

Alcoosen let out a chuckle.

"And what do you say, Marcel?"

"What Cobayon said." he took a long chug of coffee, and sighed.

"Huh? And why would you say that?" Alcoosen spat. "First thing we need is more power."

"The last thing we need right now is more trouble." Marcel groaned.

"Geez, okay, just bringing up some possibilities. Lighten up!" Alcoosen rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to lighten up about work, Alcoosen..." he sentenced. The man he talked to rolled his eyes, cutting him off quickly.

"One thing, though."

"What is it?" Marcel emptied his mug. One moment later, he realized everyone was looking at him. "Do I have something on my face?" he asked.

"This is coffee, not beer." Alcoosen rolled his eyes.

"So?"

"It's not for chugging, it's for sipping." Saul sipped some coffee from his own fresh mug.

He mouthed nothing in response. Then he tried to take a sip. Much to his dismay, he'd already chugged it all up.

"It's served hot so you don't do that." Saul pointed, grinning shamelessly.

Marcel shook his head.

"Well, I've had breakfast now. Anyway, what are our options?"

"You already said you didn't want to see any options." Alcoosen chirped.

"Aside from that, we're quite pressed for options." Cobayon said. "Not to say we don't really have any."

"I thought wherever there was a will, there was a way." Alcoosen continued.

"Well, there MIGHT be a way." Cobayon replied. "But it seems unlikely."

"And what is it?" Marcel asked, quite interested.

Taking a sip of his coffee, the aged man pursed his lips as he came up with the words.

"Basically we'd need someone to vouch for the quality of our work, and give us an opportunity to regain our reputation." the man explained. "But I can't think of anyone who'd do such a thing at this point."

Marcel blinked a little, looking at everyone sipping their coffees. Right now, he regretted having chugged it all so quickly- now he had nothing to do but watch everyone have a light breakfast. Rapping his fingers on the table a little, he wondered what to think of next. There was no denying times looked tough. Sometimes, the world had no better idea than to flip around with you on its back.

That's how he had wound up in the "belly" after all.

======

As he returned home, he wondered if the coffee had anything to do with his bellyache right now, if maybe he'd chugged it down too hot, too fast. Probably not: acid reflux seemed to be a better explanation. However bad the suspense had been, the news hadn't put him at ease, far from it.

He kept his hands inside his pockets, his massive body hidden under an equally massive, hooded, brown cloak. Judging from what he saw around himself, this particular garment seemed to never go out of fashion in this stony city of narrow, winding lanes, its dirt-paved roads crossed by hundreds of figures much like his own, going both forwards and backwards on the left and right sides of the lane, short queues spontaneously growing out of the mass, swimming like snakes through the fluid mass of strangers.

The cityscape was in a similar, if slower, flux. He remembered having arrived home the day before almost too late to walk, and he hadn't been able to pay much attention to the buildings, but now he noticed just how much the city had changed. Maybe it was the bright daylight, maybe it was the coffee, but it kind of disturbed him to see how much the city had cared to change while he had been out in the wild.

It had only been three months. And in those three months, one particular small shack he knew had been reduced to burnt rubble, leaving him to wonder why. One large, almost barnlike door that stuck out suspiciously in the bottom of a stone-walled alley had been removed, and the horses behind had been replaced by a large, well-grown swath of greenery. As he tried to take a look at one of the vegetables someone was growing in there, a bump on his shoulder reminded him to keep walking- looking for just an instant, he saw a sign missing from one smithy he knew of. Farther beyond, he saw a small tower, no more than three stories, that had crumbled down- and from the lacking volume of the rubble, it had already been cannibalized.

Sometimes he wondered how would the view from the top of that tower have been. He didn't even know what that tower had been for, all those years he'd never walked in, never asked. Well, it was moot now, he thought, as he walked by a new bar. He didn't bother checking it out- he just had coffee, and it was far too early to start hitting the alcohol for anyone who didn't feel like spouting stupid puns.

A new, broad spire suddenly graced his sight over the line of a few stone buildings as the ground sloped down familiarly. Frankly, it was a graceful sight- the tower was covered in a mesh of metal rings, flowering vines spiraling around these supports. The same hardy vine had invaded completely one of the buildings close to it, a sloped-roof construction that looked well past the verge of collapse. Closer to him, he could see a man trimming the vine around his house with a large knife.

Then he finally came to a tree. He knew this tree, with all the carvings on its trunks, and its privileged position, in a small, high and empty spot, paved with loose stones, always carrying at least half a dozen cloth stalls selling various foods- and maybe other things. He could make out the top of the wall from his position right where he was, and he assumed that climbing the tree, he'd get an even better view of everything in the city, the buildings in the upper tier, the entire southern side of the wall. Maybe the northern too, why not?

Then again, it'd be too embarassing to get caught climbing that tree, he thought as he discreetly walked away.

A quick rustling sound...

He hopped away in time to see a fuzzy, brown form drop from the tree, only its hairless patches visible for an instant as it hit the ground and quickly stood up. Marcel felt at ease when he saw it was just a kid, a tan, little kid with a brown, cat-eared head full of hair, a long tail, and brown pants. He quickly sprinted away, a large grin on his face, laughing.

-Kids will be kids.- he thought to himself, hearing a stronger rustling sound...

...and a larger, much sleeker and curvier form dropped from the same tree. It took him only a moment to recognize it as a female neko, also tan, with long brown hair, which could've been softer- but it had caught too many twigs and leaves to give that impression. She was covered somewhat in black cloth, but it was hard to shake the feeling those were actually undergarments.

"Come here right now! I'm not playing around!" she demanded.

As he recognized her voice, he felt the need to cry out he didn't know this woman at all. He quickly reminded himself that the two of them were safe at this time of the day, as long as they didn't go farther than 50 feet south. That's where the shady part started without any warning. He had to hand it to the kid, though, he had some serious guts there. That kid couldn't be older than 9, and he'd already climbed that tree, while Marcel had spent 8 years in Negav without climbing it... his young spirit was already audacious and fearless. He couldn't help but admire that a little, even if he knew most of it was innocence and foolishness. Youth was its own thing.

Approaching the tree, he looked up, wondering how tall it was. He had never climbed this tree, maybe right now...

Nah, he thought to himself, turning towards the house, wondering why the trip had gotten this long.

======

It took him a moment to behold the house, glad it hadn't changed so much. It was still that dirty, old, chipped white, two stories tall, and a bit long, with the brick exposed at some parts, where the outdoors stresses had cracked the adobe. It was too big for a man to live in on his own- then again, he WISHED he lived alone here. And that wish got farther and farther from reality every time he returned to this place. One of those days he'd have to find a new place to live if the trend continued.

He removed his hood as he crossed the door. The first thing that assaulted him was a moldy, acrid smell. The second thing that assaulted him was the sight of a familiar neko wielding a claw hammer, gasping for air, a deranged expression in his face as he lurched forward on the entryway, towards him.

"Toma?"

"Hehehe!" the neko replied. "Sorry it took so long to greet you properly, you just went to bed too quickly yesterday..." he cackled, sucking in a trickle of drool.

"What's the matter?"

"They..." Toma cackled, his dark-skinned limbs shaking slightly as he lurched forward. "They all... wanted it... it's them, Marcel, it's them why I'm here right now!"

Marcel looked into his neighbor's black eyes, wondering what had finally sent the guy down the deep end. Toma used to be a good neighbor, if a bit of a mooch; he knew he worked odd jobs left and right, generally staying afloat with his son and wife- the two youths he'd seen chasing each other a little earlier. His grimy sweatshirt had a few bloodstains- this didn't make sense.

"Toma, your kid...?"

"Ah ha ha haha!" he raised the hammer slightly. "Told him to go for a stroll. Didn't want him to see me like this..." he cackled.

"What's the hammer for?"

"Didn't I tell you!?" Toma cried. "It's THEM!"

"Who's them?"

"Our neighbors! They wanted me to do it. Oh, so kind of them..." he lurched closer to him. "...to find me this job..."

"Job?" Marcel asked, aghast.

"I'm your new superintendent." he added, straightening his back.

Marcel took a step back.

"And why are you acting like a junkie?"

"I couldn't get any sleep last night." he growled. "There's a pest in the building, and everyone will keep pestering me until I catch it."

"A pest?"

"Neera." he replied, opening his fist. "About this tall, but I've never met anyone so ornery and annoying..." he grumbled, shaking his fist. "He's been avoiding me all night."

"Have you been trying to chase him with a hammer?"

Toma shook his head a moment, but not in denial.

"It's what I had at hand when the twerp showed up... no, I've tried everything, believe me, I've tried the..." he started raising fingers. "rapier, the stapler, the duct tape, the fire poker, the firewood, some bricks, a few plates, your shotgun, a fruit bowl..."

"You used my shotgun!?"

"I loaded it with birdshot, yes. Don't worry, I didn't break much-" he couldn't finish.

Marcel took a step forward, taking another look at the hallway Toma had greeted him in. His eyes quickly drifted to a lot of deep cracks on the floor, consistent with the marks of a claw hammer- and to a few small piles of debris, probably from the top of the hallway, where he could see some scattered pellet patterns, as if... for some reason, Toma had decided to fire at the ceiling.

"My gun is NOT a toy."

"It's okay. We think the noise scares off door-to-door salesmen, and criminals..." he smiled.

"I can be legally held responsible for how that thing is used!" Marcel cried. "You think it's GOOD to scare off random people!?"

"If I ever get you in trouble, I'll just explain, I'm sure they'll just let it go-" he replied, dismissively- immediately, the man walked right up to him, quietly, looking at him intensely.

"No. They won't let it go." he hissed. "I've already had trouble- so leave my gun alone from now on, or I'll make you regret it!"

"Gee." Toma shook his head. "Okay, mate. Brought you some groceries by the way, they're in your cupboard."

"Thanks." Marcel replied. Of course, the only reason Toma had stuffed his cupboard was because he'd mooched up everything in it. And that wasn't a bad thing, compared to the smell of what 3 months can do to any perishables you keep in your room. "Make sure you fix this mess up before the owner gets here."

"Sure thing." he said, grinning, turning his head as the man walked right past him. Once he was a fair distance away, he muttered a curse under his breath.

"Watch that mouth." Marcel muttered, also under his breath, turning to the right on the end of the hallway, going up the stairs, and then into the second door back from his right.

======

Once inside, he let out a sigh, watching the cracks around the pellet spreads on the ceiling. If it weren't his room, it could be comical to think of Toma trying to chase a neera... across the ceiling. How exactly had they wound up there, he'd never know. Nekos wound up doing the strangest things.

Like they were known to do to neeras, like nagas did to them, he reminded to himself, with a sigh, checking that everything was still in its place. It was a really tiny room, so there wasn't much room for error. On the left, his hammock, as comfortable as it got, right under the window- well, right under a round hole on the wall that he could stop with some thick cloth. Across the room, a table, a chair, and a small cupboard. To the right, a wooden chest- he'd bought it used, so it hadn't cost much. It housed most of his worldly possessions; opening it, he saw his personal shotgun right next to a few 20-shell boxes.

The familiar sight of those ammo boxes, their black and yellow cardboard, gave him a tinge of nostalgia. They sure didn't make cardboard boxes like that around here. The unfamiliar script it was labeled in didn't dispel the magic- it was like he wasn't really in a different world, just a different country, far from home, where they made shotgun shells, only they were described in a different alphabet, with different numbers, by a different manufacturer. A manufacturer with no quarry with neither doodles nor gibberish...

Sighing, he took a moderately heavy bag from the bottom. Opening it carefully, he drove his hand into the bag, checking it held only skevol coins. It did weigh like 500 of them, but it never hurt to be sure. There were a few large water-filled plastic bottles, some stacks of clothes, his spare pair of shoes, a few books of varying designs, some leather-bound, some with plastic covers, and a small square device.

His hand reached down for the device- then he thought twice. He really wasn't in the mood right now, it'd be a waste of time. Lowering the lid, he turned to the cupboard- maybe he'd just take a small peek at what Toma's idea of groceries had been this time.

A bowl of apples, a small sack of... turnips or something, and a few pieces of firewood.

"I'd kill for a carrot." he joked to himself. Toma's groceries were drab and unappetizing, but it wasn't like the guy had a lot of money. It was the intent that counted.

Not that he'd have picked better... the coffee was still unsure whether it should stay down, or go back up. Maybe it was best to go to sleep... like yesterday. The good thing about being in Negav was getting to sleep as much as he liked.

So he laid down on the hammock to get some sleep.

======

Fifteen minutes later he was sitting on his chair, chewing on his rage. There just had been too much left unsaid, too much that still nagged at him. The coffee he'd chugged only heated things up inside him, rendering him restless. That sterile, futile attempt at sleep had only brought the rage to the foreground of his caffeinated mind.

He was, quite exactly, hurt and furious. It had taken only that one naga- and he wouldn't blame their luck. He'd blame her determination. All she had had to do in order to devour that many companions, and then devour the reason they'd put themselves on the line, all it had taken, and he knew it, was determination on her part. She was just so damn fast, she'd just WILLED them to die. Even in its utter disregard for their lives, its actions couldn't even taunt the air of innocence around the misbegotten reptile.

His knuckles paled, his fingernails dug into his palm, his mouth taut around the edges. He reminded himself it was just an illusion. She was an animal and nothing else. One didn't begrudge the river- one respected it, glad he wasn't swept away.

But SHE wasn't a RIVER. She talked. She had a face. She had cunning. She was old enough to know what she'd DONE. Her actions were HERS to be responsible for.

Thinking of fallen comrades, Marcel held back a scream. Brando, Chigurh, Frettel, Resman, Talvi, Limnoin, Chisne... they were all... gone now. They died for nothing. The 12 remaining, including those three posers, Hogg, Casull, Nadimon, all of which had survived, all of them together hadn't been able to make their deaths worth squat. They'd failed their mates, they'd failed their charge, they'd failed themselves.

Was it because of her, because nature had been too generous to that freak? Was it because they had been a pitiful display of incompetence and unreliability? Whose fault was it? He couldn't think back right now. He didn't remember any mistakes on his part. He did remember Nadimon, that poser, crumbling down in the first scare. This hadn't been a fair fight, if that spineless, impudent hoodlum had been ANYWHERE but with them...

...then maybe they wouldn't be in their position right now. It didn't really hurt not to have rifles. They barely used them. It didn't really hurt not to have access to flamethrowers. They weren't that important. But the humiliation, the rumors, the judgement, the damage to their reputation, all that injustice added insult to injury. And it wasn't the naga that had insulted them.

Thoughts of that nature proceeded throughout the day, which struggled with all its might to provide no more interesting alternatives.

======

"Foene modani sinuen... ga."

He repeated the words, still nonsensical.

"Foene modani sinuen ga." he hissed, reading the words aloud. Had he read them right?

"Foene modani... sinuen ga?" the book in his hands gave him so much trouble. All of the annotations on the side didn't seem to help.

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

He quickly dropped the book, rubbing his forehead a little. That wasn't a gun. That was a hammer. Probably, Toma at work.

Taking again the book, he returned to the first page. They all looked the same to him anyway.

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

"Foene, foene, foene, foene." he repeated, as if the repetition would help him understand. This was an important task, one he knew he couldn't accomplish overnight, but it HAD to be done. No one stood a chance without this kind of knowledge.

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

"Foene, foene, foene, foene." he pursed his lips. One should've guessed when Toma really found a job, it'd be a noisy affair he'd perform on the room RIGHT NEXT TO HIM.

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

"Foene, foene, foene, foene." he grit his teeth, the hammer's banging noise reverberating in his ears- and in his teeth.

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

"Foene, foene, foene, foene..." he sighed, expecting the next series of bangs.

After a moment, he figured they'd start only the moment he started trying to advance past Foene.

"Foene, I'm begging you, please don't take my man." he grumbled, tossing the book back on the table.

BANG BANG BANG BANG!

He turned his face towards the door.

"Figures..." he grumbled, covering the whole distance in a couple steps. This room was a damn closet, he thought to himself, turning the knob...

...and then realizing he'd just tore it off.

"Well damn!" he growled, swinging the door open with a kick that left it shaking in its hinges. The sight on the open-air hallway, awaiting behind the door, filled him with expectation.

"Boss." he nodded, looking at the awfully fat, short, brown, freckled man in the door, with broad eyes, a broader mouth, and a sweeping hairdo. Right now, he was dressed quite fancy- this is, he was clean. Everything else was just details that Marcel was sure he was missing, because the general picture didn't look impressive to him.

"Yes. Me. What were you doing?"

Marcel lowered his gaze for a moment.

"I was studying Vishmitali." he replied. "How may I help you?"

"There's a way we can stay in business. Get moving."

The occupant nodded, walking out the door just like that.

"Dress up!"

"I'm dressed..." Marcel replied.

"I SAID DRESS UP!" he insisted.

With practiced patience, Marcel turned to his chest, picking out the best clothes. The ones that were clean.

"What have you found?" he asked, quickly changing into his best attire. Negav's fashions were quite bizarre, but at least those vestments were relatively plain.

"The last time I explained something, we lost all hope, you dope." he frowned. "Let's just get going, so I can explain on the way."

"We're on the way now..."

"I just told you I wasn't going to explain anything!"

"But you said you could explain on the way..."

"Fuck your mouth!" Locust bellowed. "We'll see a guy, he'll explain!"

Tossing on his travel cloak, he crossed the threshold of his doorstep, curious and expectant. This was good- but it was a surprise.

Recent circumstances had him wary of those.

======

He let himself enjoy the sights on his uphill walk to the middle tier, difficult as it was with the small man bouncing towards their intended destination in a rush. The state of the buildings seemed to improve as he walked, almost as if he were turning back the hours on the neglect endemic to his neighborhood. Many buildings had well-painted smooth plaster walls, and the proportion of second and even third stories rose, stabilizing as he reached the middle of the band.

Trimmed grass and a few raised platforms with several aesthetic plants -though he wasn't sure what aesthetic exactly: some of the greenery was extremely ugly- graced the sidewalks, the less than stellar buildings became the exception rather than the norm. He could see a wrecked, dilapidated shack here and there, or a large, somewhat rusted metal barn, whose door was able to accomodate the large carts that strolled in relative peace, carrying large sacks of what he would assume perishables- just the same as the buildings.

The city was indeed bustling with life. He couldn't walk for longer than a block without finding another of those rusted metal barns, and come to think of it, they all looked like the same barn. The proportion of second and even third stories stabilized completely, and the aesthetic plants became all the same, and the scantily clad woman on the corner had identical twins on every corner- twins that looked at them like they could barely hold their laughter. This sudden homogeneity could mean but one thing.

"We're walking in circles, boss."

"Uh-huh." the fat, squat man said. "We're already late at this rate."

"What's the place we're looking for?" Marcel asked.

"Hmm..." Locust shrugged. "Hey!" he cried, turning to the scantily clad woman in the corner.

"What is it?" she asked back, grinning.

"You heard of a place called 'The Rainbow Loft'?"

"I might..." she replied. "Is that where you're trying to go?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's no way I'm telling for free..." she grinned. Marcel sighed, and turned around, towards a wagon pulled by two oxen, a kid driving them on top.

"Excuse me, young sir." he asked, glad to see the kid turn in his direction. "Do you know where the Rainbow Loft is?"

"The fancy place? It's that way." he quickly replied, pointing into the one street he could swear he'd come from.

"Thank you." he said, turning back to his boss, whose exchange of pleasantries had been a lot less pleasant...

"I have the direction, boss." he replied. "Let's go."

======

Few minutes later, Marcel was wondering to himself how the hell could he have missed this damn place. The tall, yellow brick building with very large windows, on a platform raised a full story off street level, with a garden peeking over its edge... it all seemed so ostentatious, so needless, but maybe that was just him being pissed with having taken so long to get to this place.

Going up the steps, he took a look at the woman behind the pedestal. She had elven features, wore a white gown, he couldn't see her lower half behind the thick pedestal- and he couldn't bring himself to make any further observations. Now it was time to know if their reservation had expired or something.

He let Locust go ahead of him.

"Excuse me." Locust said, uncharacteristically. "I had an appointment here- I seem to be late, however, and I need to know if it's still up."

"An appointment..." she said, looking at her pedestal. "With Mr. Wulf?"

"Yes, Mr. Wulf it is."

"Interestingly enough, you're not late yet." she said, still smiling. "But if I were you, I wouldn't keep him waiting any longer. He made it clear he's a busy man."

"Well, I'm not." Locust replied. "Where do we drop the travel cloaks?"

Her smile seemed to tighten for a moment, as if she'd just told herself a joke. Then she extended her hands- both Locust and Marcel took off their cloaks, folding them by the middle. She nodded in approval and took them, placing the travel cloaks on a hanger- she seemed relieved they were still there when she turned around.

Another elf guided them into the building. Unsurprisingly, this restaurant was built around a gimmick. At first, Marcel wondered if maybe the gimmick wasn't painfully lousy- this place had large windows on all walls, letting the sunlight in for all the plants growing inside. This was an indoors garden.

But on second thought -or rather, on second breath- he realized to call it an indoors garden would have been underselling it. The atmosphere had a scent just so strong- not so weak it was a passing thought, but not so strong one couldn't feel anything else. The scent made him curious- he couldn't know if it was the bark of the potted trees, any of the dozens of flowers of all colors arranged in what might've been a quaint rainbow somehow, or maybe the grass. The environment seemed to have been constructed so carefully, it inspired him the consideration to step on the stone tiles rather than the grass before anyone told them.

"Please step on the stone tiles." their guide told them.

"So, where is Mr. Wulf?"

"Upstairs." the elf replied, pointing at a spiral staircase around the wall, cleverly hidden behind an ivy-covered wire mesh. The two of them followed him up into a wooden balcony overlooking half of the garden- there was only one table there. And sitting at that table, the man of the hour.

Sitting, his height could only be estimated, but it could be close to seven feet. His greasy hair clung tightly to his skull as it swept backwards, almost forming a fin around his neck. Two large, raised, fuzzy ears sat behind his temples- but he was no elf, and he was no neko. They weren't triangular, they were rather rhomboidal, in stark contrast with his bony, square face, where a malevolent smirk sat under his bizarre gaze- even those smoked glasses couldn't hide that one of his eyes was bulging while the other squinted. His swarthy form was concealed under a fashionably baggy shirt, but from his neck, Marcel could tell this man probably had more muscle mass than the two of them put together.

His hand twitched- there was no question. This man was the one who had sent to call for them.

The elf stepped aside, and motioned at them quietly. The two of them walked up to the chairs that had been set aside, and sat in front of the man.

"Ah, finally." he bellowed. And as he grinned, Marcel saw two sets of pronounced, almost tusklike canines. "Locust, right? From Fuck Off Or Die?" he laughed.

"Yes." Locust replied.

"Wonderful." he added, still grinning. The man was almost as excited to have them here as the waiters. "Just wonderful... and your partner is?"

"Marcel Amündsen..." he began. "...assistant."

"A honor, both of you!" he laughed. "Now, will you please take a look at your menus?"

Marcel looked away for a moment, then he picked up his menu- but he was quickly interrupted by a loud...

"There's nothing to be wary of! Relax, come on." he grinned. "Take your time to order, it's on me."

"Sweet, that's... very generous." Locust replied, in a rush of inspiration, as he took the menu, browsing it quickly.

"Oh, don't mention it." Wulf grinned. "It's just courtesy, and I'm sure it'll be worthwhile- for everyone!"

Marcel grimaced, looking at the menu, struggling with the strange runic glyphs that seemed to compose the many options -and what direction were the lines on, anyway? Were these horizontal, vertical, or were they a spiraling square?- in the menu. He managed to decipher one or two things, but nothing that actually tickled his fancy.

"I'll have... whatever he's having." Locust said, pointing at Wulf.

"Excellent choice!" Wulf chuckled. "I'll have a generous portion of veal with applesauce, and mead."

"I see. Will there be anything else?" their waiter asked.

Marcel was then aware of the thick silence around him. He realized they were waiting for him to order.

"Heh, elven's difficult, eh?" Wulf chuckled again. "Maybe you could use a little help." he added, nodding at their waiter.

And the waiter walked up behind him. Marcel felt his cheeks flush red a little- dammit, Negav had so many languages!

"Are you having trouble, sir?"

"Yes... I seem to have been lax in my elven studies." he sighed. "I can tell this is a bittersweet salad, this is some kind of dessert, those are bread biscuits."

"Very good, sir."

His shoulders tensed- whatever the waiter's intention, that had come off as somewhat condescending.

"I mean it, sir, you're doing actually quite well."

"Thank you." he said, a bit cluelessly. "I was wondering if you had something with meat in it."

"They have veal."

"We also have bread biscuits..."

"Yes, but I think it says here it has dry fruits."

"We also have fried chicken."

"I... didn't see it in the menu."

The waiter let out a short giggle. "True, true! Just a good-natured prank. You'll be hard-pressed to find anything without dry fruits- maybe the goat cheese?"

"Goat cheese? Wouldn't you happen to have some pork cheese?"

"Yes, but it has dry fruits." the waiter said.

Marcel shrugged.

"I'll have a partridge, then."

"With mead?"

"Yes, and a salad. Without dry fruits."

======

"Well, now we're talking!" Wulf exclaimed, his boisterous grin still present as he scarfed down on the large pieces of brown veal he cut off his plate.

"And what are we talking about?" Locust asked, doing the same thing (minus the boisterous grin).

"Business!" he exclaimed. "I had a proposal for you!"

"A proposal?"

"Yeah! I heard about your situation!" he said, stopping for a moment to take down two chugs of mead. "This naga decimated and nearly obliterated your unit, right? But you fought her off."

"Barely." Locust replied.

"Heh! Barely's good enough. I heard she was nearly invulnerable, immune to fire, terribly swift, and took down all your weapons!"

"They were two nagas."

"There were two of those monsters? Ah ha ha ha!" Wulf grinned. "Now you're just exaggerating to make yourself out badass."

"No, I mean they were two different nagas. There WAS a naga that was invulnerable and immune to fire, but he wasn't a problem."

Wulf raised his eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yes, he couldn't touch us at all. It's the other naga that was the problem."

"He was indestructible, but SHE was the problem? What was she like? Did she use magic, or something?"

"No." Locust began. "If there was anything special to that one, I didn't realize. She was just... she was the fastest I've ever seen, and she kept ambushing us, time and again..."

"Aha, and her boyfriend helped?"

"No, you don't get it. We met that other naga a month before, he has zero to do with having half of our members killed."

Wulf pursed his lips for a moment. His squinting eye squinted a little harder.

"Well, that's interesting to know." he began, not as boisterously now, seemingly a little disappointed. "It makes a lot more sense than some things I've heard 'round here!"

"What's your business proposal, anyway?" Locust asked.

"Oh." he collected himself for a moment. "Well, I heard about how your unit got, for lack of a better word, degraded." he smirked. "And I knew you'd need some help getting back on your feet. I happen to lead a unit myself, we're quite prestigious!"

A moment of silence followed as the three men looked at each other.

"And your proposal is?"

"In your current state, your unit has been deemed as... incompetent. No one in their right minds would hire you!" Wulf grinned. "A failure of this magnitude, and all you ever accomplished was just luck! But hey, there's a way out of it. My unit can vouch for yours, so you can prove yourself again!"

"I see." Locust replied. "And why would you take your chances we were actually incompetent?"

"Oh, I was expecting some benefits in return, actually." he said, taking a long gulp of mead. "There IS something you can do for me."

"And what is it?"

"You can pay me."

"With money?"

"Yes." he grinned. "I've got access to your payment records, I think this sum, while generous, should be manageable for you."

Locust lowered his gaze to his veal for a moment, taking a big slice out of it.

"How much do you have in mind?"

"Sixty-five thousand skevols."

Pursing his lips, Locust chewed over that number for a bit.

"That's a lot of money."

"I'm sure you'll manage!" Wulf grinned. "I picked that number because according to your records in the Guild, you should be able to afford a fair portion of it up front!"

Locust let out a hum. Marcel raised an eyebrow, running through whatever numbers he'd helped his boss with.

-65000 skevols. How much did we make in those 8 years in this business? Probably around... 400000 skevols have passed through our hands at some point.- he began. -I think... we spent... 200 times 12 is 2500, times 8 it's 20000, times 12 it's 250000. How much did we spend in guns and ammo? 100000 skevols? That's a bit over 10000 a year, to arm 12 people, say 1000 per person per year... leaves us with 50000 skevols. That must be what he thinks- that if we disbanded right now, we'd have 10000 skevols for each of us. But we have less than that, I think Cobayon told us it was more like 1500. Times seven, that's 10000. We saved a lot of money, but it's only a fraction of what this man wants...-

"And how would we afford the rest?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd ask! I've got the right contacts to ensure us first and best access to the most lucrative assignments- paying me shouldn't be difficult at all, though it won't happen overnight, of course!"

"So in return for your aid, we'd have to take every job you told us to?"

The man's eyebrows lifted.

"Don't wanna end up doing someone's dirty work?" he asked, his grin dissipating for a moment. "Can't blame ya, I'd be wary of a deal like this too. Who wouldn't?" he said, taking another gulp of mead. "No red tents here, though, we'll just have it drafted right at the Galaxiea Bizarre later." he smiled again. "It wouldn't be too clever of me to fool you for starters, right? Ah, I'm outta mead!"

A nearby waitress walked in to replace the near-empty jug that Wulf was filling his glass from. It stuck out, to Marcel's eyes, that she wasn't elven- and that's what tipped him off to something else...

...he thought he knew her from somewhere. That green hair. Those narrow eyes, with their smooth, defined shape, that narrow chin, those smooth cheeks- he thought he knew her from somewhere.

No, he was sure he knew her from somewhere.

"Ah, excuse me!" Marcel said, looking at her. She looked back at him- no, she didn't seem to recognize him. "Could you replace my mead as well while you're at it, please?"

"Of course, of course!" she smiled, leaving for a moment. The conversation over the meal semeed to quickly fade away as she returned, and came closer to him. He looked at her, almost leering, trying to see if she was the person he thought she was. It had been some time, after all.

"What's with the eyes?" she asked, still smiling, as she replaced the jar.

"You remind me of someone I met once." Marcel smiled, innocently. "She shunted me to this world."

"Sh- sh-" she struggled for a moment, her smile twitching. "I see, you must've mistaken me for someone else..."

"I think her name was Piper. She had green hair, loved snakes..." he sentenced. "Older than you by a fair bit."

"Well, I can assure I'm not older than myself!" she laughed, nervously. "Call again if you need anything..." she added, bouncing back down the stairs.

No, he would not be denied. Not like this.

"Would it be... too awkward if I asked you to finish this meal without me?"

"What was that just now?" Wulf asked.

"It's too long to explain. But there's someone who owes me an explanation."

"What?"

"May I... leave?"

Wulf shrugged.

"Okay."

"Boss?"

"Yeah, you do that. It's not like you were saying much either way..." he shrugged. With a grin, Marcel stood up, and leaned over the balcony- she wasn't in the building. He wondered for a moment where the kitchen was- but if he went that way, the staff would know. It was best to look outside first, it wasn't like the place had many exits.

He scrambled down the stairs trying not to make too much noise, gave a short explanation to the waiter on the door, nodded at the woman behind the pedestal, climbed down the stairs to street level and...

...there she was, looking at him, right beside the staircase.

======

"I knew you'd be coming."

Marcel tilted his head.

"You and I have unfinished business." he said.

She nodded.

"And what are you going to do?"

He looked away.

"I want to ask you why." he shook his head. "I want to know why did you toss me here. I want to know who are you, how did you toss me here. I just... never could quite understand why. I think I deserve to know."

And as he said those things, he couldn't help but notice how much younger she seemed. The woman she remembered was older than him by a fair bit, now she seemed not a day over twenty. But her eyes had changed so much...

"I'm just Piper." she replied. "You weren't a good neighbor, I got mad. So I used a stupid old book, and... I never thought it'd do anything. I just thought it was cool..." she shook her head. "There's nothing more to it."

Marcel nodded.

"I was afraid so." he sighed, heavy silence afterwards.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Yes... how did you end up here?"

"I don't know- I never used that book again, one day I just woke up in a jungle." she rolled her eyes. "I thought it was payback."

Marcel pursed his lips.

"It wasn't. It happens to a lot of people."

"Or so I heard. But doesn't it sound like a lot of coincidence to you? I played with that book, and then I wound up here?"

"Yes, but it doesn't change anything. That kind of thing just happens."

"My point stands." she said. He just shrugged. "But it's been a good life. I've enjoyed this century."

"I wouldn't call it a century." he replied. "It's only been eight years."

"Eight years?" Piper raised her eyebrows.

"I've been here since 2042, though I've got a feeling the years might be a little longer..."

She looked at him, somewhat confused.

"I've been here since before Nekomura was founded."

"That's strange..." Marcel squinted.

"Yes, it is." she mumbled, at a loss for words. "Will the surprises in this land ever cease?"

He shrugged. She looked up at him.

"Let me ask you something now."

"Hm?"

"Are you angry?"

He pursed his lips.

"Not really, no." he grimaced. "Not at you, I've been here for years, I'm over it. But..." he let out a chuckle. "I'm in the mercenary business, and we've just... had a major defeat, a naga almost ate half our team, and... times are tough."

She nodded.

"Business takes you beyond the walls often?"

"Sort of."

"There's something else." Piper said.

"What is it?"

"The book... came with me. I studied it- it makes a lot more sense here, I mean, it works." she raised her gaze. "What I want to tell you is... I have a prophecy, and I think it's for you."

"A prophecy for me?"

"Or maybe me. I don't know, I'm not sure." Piper sighed. "It goes like this."

-Seven falling stars shall land beyond the wall.-
-Hearts that long for Eufracta they are all.-
-One for vipers, two for locusts, three for darkness.-
-Four, five, six and seven wait for that chance.-
-The life of all will save the will of Three,-
-when the Adder's eye challenges the free.-

He listened intently to her words, nodding at the long silence that followed.

"Is that all?"

"Yes." she said. "That's all."

He nodded.

"Thanks for that."

"You're welcome." she replied. "Can you make sense of it?"

"Of course not, but..."

"That's fine. I think it's just a stupid rhyme." she blurted, quickly. "Anyway, there's something else I want to ask."

"Sure?"

"What's your name?"

"Marcel."

She nodded.

"I was really surprised when you remembered mine."

======

"Nostalgic again?" Locust asked, on their way out of the Rainbow Loft.

"Can't help it, boss." Marcel sighed. "It's just... I met her, she actually looks younger, but it's been a century for her."

"So?"

"I thought there'd be something familiar about all of this. But there's not, she's not the same, Felarya's not the same, the old world's not the same- now all that's left is a prophecy, and this strange temporal fugue... all that I remember about it I might as well have imagined. Even I'm not the same anymore..."

"Dude..."

Marcel looked down at his boss, beneath the traveling cloak. Those blank eyes, that crazy mouth, those puffy cheeks...

"Seven people died, we got degraded too. Nothing stays the same forever, that's why we even bother. Now I've got to check background on Wulf and that takes a lot of hard words so go home, be a big boy, and don't cry." he blurted. "Be seein' ya!" he cried, as he quickened his steps.

"See ya, boss." he replied, a bit stunned.

======

Looking out the glass panes lining the hallway, Marcel amused himself looking at the shapes in the skyline of Negav, wondering what the indistinct flying forms in the distance would be. He realized he didn't look up often enough.

Shifting his weight a little on the bench, he wondered how long it'd be until Locust came out- or something interesting happened. The steps on the far side made him regret wanting something interesting to happen- he recognized that blonde boy, now flanked by two strangers.

"You."

"Yes, me." Nadimon mouthed. "I heard they were signing an agreement, that we could stay in business..."

"You should probably go away."

The boy winced.

"No, I'm not going away."

"Come on. We don't need you."

"Look, I know I... was a liability back then. It won't happen again, I swear!"

"Of course it won't happen again, you're not our problem anymore."

Nadimon breathed in.

"Who died and put you in charge? The fat guy sure didn't!"

"You're not coming with us ever again."

"Oh, come on!" Nadimon barked. "I've brought the solution to our problems."

"Okay." Marcel said, raising an eyebrow.

"They're not letting us work because we're too few, right?" Nadimon asked. "So I found some new recruits."

"If they are anything like you, you shouldn't have bothered."

"Look, just give them a chance..." his eyes wandered to one of his companions, who was right now staring out of the window. "Sarcos. Sarcos!"

Sarcos turned around. Marcel noticed three things- first, that he was pretty, just like Nadimon, only with blue-black hair and a few inches less. Second, that someone had shoved a metal device down his nape. Third, that he couldn't look more clueless if he tried.

"Uh?"

"Eh, excuse Sarcos, he just arrived at Felarya. But he's an excellent shooter, the best I've ever seen, and I'm the one telling you!" Nadimon cried. "I'm your best shooter, but he's something else, you just can't... put words to describe how good he is, he's just..."

Through this gushing, Sarcos seemed to stay completely clueless.

"Hello, Sarcos." Marcel smiled.

"Hello..." Sarcos waved, weakly. "Excuse me, I can't seem to access the i-sys, would you happen to know...?"

"Never heard of it." he replied, flatly.

"Y... yeah, I was afraid so..." Sarcos shrugged.

"And this is Etriari." Nadimon cried, showing his other companion to Marcel. He wasn't clueless-looking- which was strange, come to think of it. No one should've followed Nadimon. He was skinny, with about five days of stubble, and a face that suggested long teeth. "I'm completely sure he's not going to panic..."

"Have you ever handled a gun before, Etriari?"

"No, but I'm a quick learner." he answered, nonchalantly. "And call me Ed."

"Alright, Ed. I don't know what he told you, but you should know he's not in any position to recommend people." Marcel answered.

"I can tell. But even then, I'd like to join."

"And why us?"

"Because he bet me half his wage that I wouldn't."

"If we don't let him join, his wage is zero."

"He also said it wasn't up to you, and that he had already been hired."

Marcel raised his eyebrows.

"Did he?" he nodded, slowly. "Well, let's see what does the boss have to say about it."

A really nice chapter here

It's interesting to see the life of mercenaries and how a big deal it is for them to fail a mission, worsening their prospect and making them a lot more vulnerable to dubious offers.
I also really liked the part with Marcel meeting Piper. Both of them have a strange relation to one another, and even more so because of the time difference. I'm really curious where this will go

reply:

CODENAME HYDRA

Credits to rcs619 for development of the Isolon Fist.
Author's Note: The animals referred to as big fat rats in this chapter aren't actually big fat rats. The characters just refer to them as such for lack of a better comparison.

Assignment 4- No Place for Sane Men

======

You know that I want to make a difference.

It's true that I live in a city, I work a job, I get paid, I buy food and clothes, I take breaks between missions that are measured in months. I don't spend my every waking moment out there in the jungle saving lives, and I don't make a big deal out of it.

Well, usually.

All of us who do anything for a living have to wonder from time to time why do we do it. I don't do it just for the money. I don't look down on those who do, but we're different. More different, less so, doesn't matter. What matters is that we have different objectives, a different policy- most of the time, it doesn't really matter. We do our thing and they do theirs. Everyone's happy. From an outside perspective, there might not even be a difference. We both keep them safe, we both fight, we both charge for that, and no one wants to die.

But we're not the same.

Those small differences seem not to matter except to the most pretentious, but they're what is closest to our heart. They are why we do what we do in the first place, why we choose the terms on which to do it- and why we may simply stop doing it. They are our true colors. Like colors, they freely blend, clash and contrast- but unlike colors, they can do it even if they are the same.

Everyone has theirs. Rarely are they the same.

Obviously, it would be a lofty goal to never compromise your true colors, even in the short term. Whether out of convenience, need, or more unlikely reasons, forces join more often than not. But the more that join, the less that will remain committed until the end- if all were committed, or even aware. The forces put together may seem great and powerful, they may very well be: it isn't a challenge to work together when we all practice the same trade.

To all except the most naïve, however, it can be a challenge to choose to do so.

======

He averted his gaze from the morning sun, turning it instead towards the moat.

This cyclopean architecture, unlike the rest of the world, was not so much a sign of powerlessness- it was a challenge. Beyond the bridge, outside the gate set about the iron wall, the alien nature reigned, with its endless maneaters, its bizarre beauty, and its magical flights of fancy. But this moat, and the tremendous wall that lay behind it, stood as firm as any tree in the line- if not firmer. The shine of the ancient metal clashed, proud and defiant, with the ever-encompassing scape of earth, verdant, and celestial. As if displaying what it pondered, the wall lightly reflected the forest before it, and the moat between them.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head around, shifting his weight on the edge of the bridge.

"Is that guy here yet?"

Marcel pursed his lips, looking at the new guy. Wide, somewhat clueless eyes, a round face, thin lips, and a strange device on the back of his neck. He wore a uniform just like his own- green swaths and spots loose from his shoulders and hips, the thick brown combat boots hugging tightly his shins. Black hair, and a strange shade in his eyes- gray. Metallic gray, in fact.

"We aren't in any hurry." Marcel replied, distastefully, looking around.

Before the bridge, on whose end he sat now, lay an area maybe ten or so blocks around, cleared of all trees and buildings. The jungle clung tightly to the moat otherwise, massive engines of war aimed at it from atop square columns that dotted the wall. Little sycophantic trees grew on the base of the columns, their green foliage almost touching the pristine water; a small cape lay on the corner of the wall, not too far from his left, not too far ahead if he turned left a little harder. Right before him, a block's worth of four-wheeled vehicles designed on principles he would never have even imagined were parked, spread thinly, a crowd of men with guns- and some in robes- already over there. He, however, had to wait for Wulf. This man had, for some reason, insisted they arrive early.

And then he got tapped on the shoulder again.

"Is that guy here yet?"

"No, he's not." he said. Before he even got to turn around, though, the question was repeated.

"Is that guy here yet?"

"What are you, eight?"

"-een?" he blinked.

Marcel rolled his eyes, turning his gaze to the man behind him. That white-haired pretty guy... or, like they called them back in Cansadena, that white-haired "mare" had brought this new pup, who happened to get hired. They were low in numbers, but those people weren't an improvement... he wondered what would Locust make of them. There was a stone statue to his right, a thirty-foot humanoid in a robe, with a staff raised in his hands, with only the vaguest of features.

"Nadimon, take care of this."

"Look, I found us a new recruit. That's a good thing, right?"

Marcel rolled his eyes. That was the dumbest thing he'd heard today- even including "Is that guy here yet?"

"Scatterbrains have no place in the wild." the large man frowned.

"But Wulf said..."

"This is a one-in-a-lifetime chance." Marcel cut him off. "I heard they're going to negotiate some sort of trade agreement..."

"Trade agreement?" Sarcos said.

"This place's always got high demand for everything." Nadimon pointed. "There's plenty of prices that could use one peg or two knocking down. So we're making a difference here."

"We?" Marcel snorted. "We'll just be here as dumb muscle to keep the roads watched so no one tries anything."

"Umm..." Sarcos frowned. "But that's a bit dumb, don't you think?"

"We're getting paid, it's not dumb." Marcel shrugged.

"No, I mean hiring muscle. If they're worried about today, shouldn't they have hired a week ago?" Sarcos pointed.

"I don't know. Guess they depended mostly on a need to know basis."

"Or maybe they are only hiring us to make sure we're out of the way. Maybe it's us they're worried about so they're planning to have us watched!" Sarcos mouthed.

Marcel winced. Then he rolled his eyes.

"It was hard enough to get a job after that stupid Crisis fiasco." he pursed his lips. "I've got to be thankful for what we have. If they want to pay us to have us watched..." he stopped, realizing just how stupid a statement he was about to entertain, and thus dignify. "We're not being paid for staying out of the way." he asserted, a tinge of worry escaping his voice.

"Are you sure? From what he told me, they think we're worse than nothing." Sarcos chirped, cluelessly.

"There is no point in pondering any of this. Learn to wait." he said, raising his admiring gaze towards the top of the gate. The top of the door butressed a ceiling of black metal, the uncrenellated wall holding an insignia in its middle, watching over this monumental (and rightly so) bastion of humanity. The breadth of the wall extended to its left, towards a small corner left unwalled, where a makeshift pier was functioning now, and to its right-

"Is that guy here yet?"

"Won't you just-!"

"He-llo, everyone!" an unfamiliar voice growled right behind Sarcos. Marcel quickly recognized the sibarite who owned those vocal chords- a hulking, seven foot humanoid with two dog ears, slicked back blonde hair, and that odd face, populated by strong features and a mismatched, wide left eye. This was, however, the first time he saw the man in his HYDRA outfit. And it was quite a sight- the HYDRA outfit favored gray and yellow over green and brown, tighter around the shins and forearms. The seven foot titan's wiry muscles were clear even under the hardest parts of his uniform- and he was carrying a large sack.

"You're late." he spat.

"Noo, you're too eearly, that's why no one's heere." he was answered. Now that he noticed, the man's accent rolled more letters than it strictly had to. It was... annoying.

"You told me to get here early!" the FOOD merc protested.

"So? Was it really hard to get up in the morning or something?" the HYDRA op barked.

"Forget it." Marcel replied, looking at Sarcos. "What's in the bag?"

"Glad you asked!" Wulf grinned. "A gift from me."

Quickly undoing the zipper in the long bag, he pulled out a long gunmetal object- and handed it over. He grabbed it cautiously.

The weapon was long, with a triangular stock. It did not feature a pistol grip, and the width of its single barrel (almost his thumb's) identified the firearm as a large bore shotgun. The differently-colored cylinder extending the barrel, however, puzzled him somewhat.

"I already have a shotgun." he frowned, taking stock of the cannon topping, trying to guess as to what it was without taking a look down the barrel.

"This one's better. See the grip under the barrel?"

Looking at the long wooden slide under the barrel, Marcel let out a sigh.

"It's pump-action." the man grinned. "You just slide it and it reloads."

"It's also more likely to jam."

"No more than your old shotgun. I mean, come on, that thing could only hold one shell. What were you thinking?"

"That model was not capable of jamming." Marcel narrowed his eyes. "We covered for each other while reloading."

"Romantic!" Wulf laughed. "Anyway, it's a gift. Hey! You two! Catch!" he said, taking another shotgun from his bag, and tossing it over to Nadimon- who caught it in midair. Sarcos had little luck, the weapon bouncing from his hands around three times before he finally caught it, before Marcel's horrified eyes.

"What are you doing!? Tell me at least that those weren't loaded!"

"Of course they're loaded, it's a gift!" he winked.

"Are you insane?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You can't throw a loaded weapon! That's just crying for an accident to happen, and WHY are you handing us weapons!? You don't even know us!" he cried, baffled by his irresponsibility.

"I trust you guys, you must be good guys." he smiled.

"He could shoot you by accident..."

"Hey, did you check the ammo by the way?" Wulf burst over Marcel's nagging. "Subsonic steel-cored slugs. And the snub at the end of the barrel- that's a silencer so you don't wear out your ears." he grinned, leaning in. "I'd have gotten you an assault rifle like a big boy should have, but you know, we're going to have the Fist monitor us closely this time. It ain't gonna be hard to get this one wrong, even for you guys, so you don't need a real gun."

"Shotguns ARE real guns." Marcel replied.

"Really?"

"I rarely engage anything farther than 20 yards, and their stopping power is sufficient."

"Heh!" Wulf grinned, looking at him tenderly.

"What's the matter?"

"Just you, using all 'em fancy words. 'Engage', 'stopping power'. We got a soldier over here!" he laughed. "I like that. Rank and flag?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You were in an army, weren't you? Yeah, you smell like soldier." he grinned. "Where?"

Marcel's eyes widened. He didn't remember anyone noticing that, not really from his lexicon- a lot of guys used all 'em fancy words. Was it his entonation? His posture? He was sitting, not walking, not even staring too hard... maybe there was more than met the eye with this wiry man.

"Private Amündsen, two years of the Cansadenan Royal Guard."

"Royal Guard?"

"A gendarmerie." he explained.

"Gendarmerie..." Wulf nodded, smiling.

"I was in riot control."

"Ah." Wulf suddenly winced. "Riot control. Well, no one's perfect..."

"What did you say?" he blurted, raising his eyebrows at the wiry titan before him.

"I said no one's perfect." the inu smiled.

"And what did you mean by that, exactly?"

"I meant that you'll be probably good just this once." Wulf grinned. "We're not going to do a lot of riot control together."

Marcel blinked.

-He must've been joking. No one could be that stupid.- he thought to himself. -He knows I've been in FOOD from its inception almost ten years ago; two years of riot control before that don't make much difference.-

"Very funny."

"I'm not joking, you're trained wrong." Wulf raised his eyebrows.

"What?" he blurted.

-What? He's either dumb as a brick or taunting me.-

"Anyway, we're going to pair up for this assignment. You and I, Mars..." he stopped, as someone tapped his shoulder. For once, Marcel was thankful for this new guy's sense of timing.

"What's it, boy?" Wulf spat.

"Are we all going to be paired up this assignment?" Sarcos asked, wide-eyed and clueless as the first time he'd seen him.

"Yes, we are all going to get paired up."

"Then I'm pairing up with Nadimon." he said, pointing at the white-haired guy. Marcel grinned to himself- a little karmic justice for once.

"What?" Nadimon gasped, standing up.

"Cool! Go grab your partner, and run over there, wait for us!" Wulf barked.

"Okay!" The gray-eyed young man sped towards the bridge; the other one hesitated, but finally followed his partner.

"So! You must be wondering why am I pairing up with you if I think you suck so much, right?" Wulf grinned.

"Not really." Marcel replied. -I already know you're going to get on my nerves, I just don't know what for...-

"As you may know, your boss and I got ourselves a deal, Marcel. You guys owe me now, you owe me big. You owe me some 65536 skevols."

"I thought it was just sixty-five thousand."

"Don't go haggling on me, mister!" he barked, leaning in.

"So, we owe you money. What about it?"

"Well... I went through your financial records a bit. That fatass says you helped him with the numbers." he barked, dismissively.

"I did what I could."

"You could hire yourselves an accountant, just saying." Wulf smiled. "Just saying, I noticed you camouflaged some off-the-record expenses."

"We what?" he blurted.

Wulf laughed heartily.

"You don't need to play dumb on me, mister! I'm not stupid, I can read just fine. What did you guys buy with that money? I'm assuming you greased a palm somewhere down the road!"

"Sorry?"

"Oh come ON. I've greased a few wheels in my time. Like they say, it takes money to get money." he winked. "How do you think I got this job?"

"I'm not getting the joke. Come again?" Marcel's eyes widened.

"But seriously, come on, tell me who's all greasy now." the man added, wrapping an arm around Marcel's back, grabbing his arm. "We're sharing assets, aren't we?"

"Sir, I don't..." Marcel blurted, taking an instant to compose himself. "I've never bribed anyone, and I can personally vouch that Locust has never bribed anyone either."

"Now who said bribes? Did I say bribes?" he laughed. "Well, anytime you want to, I'm perfectly willing to talk about our respective..." he leaned in, conspiratively, tightening his grip on his arm. "...elephants."

"Wulf!"



Marcel's eyes returned to the gate- where three bribes were making their way through the bridge, accompanied by almost a dozen-strong people. He recognized six of them, but the other five were new faces. Wulf quickly released him at the sight of his new associate, leaving him to nurse his neck.

"Locust, eh! Nice to see ya. Getting acquainted with your right hand here!" he said, giving Marcel a pat on the shoulder as the fat, short guy approached. "Real loyal!"

"Why do you say that?"

"He wouldn't give up on the elephants either."

"They're right in front of you, idiot." Locust barked.

Wulf blinked, turning to the beasts of burden.

"Those are elephants?" he asked, looking at the gray flesh of the long-nosed quadrupeds.

"No, we're vampire giraffes." Kalil said.

"Kalil, don't be sarcastic." Priya rumbled.

"What do you want me to say? This guy is a moron."

"I wouldn't call him a moron to his face, Kalil." Jumbo cut in.

Kalil grumbled.

"You're the single most disgustingly retarded piece of bullshit I've seen. I look at you and I wonder how come you're even alive. I'm guessing it's because your mother still keeps you safe." he rumbled, eyes locked on the strange human.

"Ehm..."

"I have trouble understanding why, how can she birth something as deformed, as retarded as you and not kill herself. She must really have it in for me if she let me look at you, oh boy, what have I ever done to her?"

"Kalil, he's got a gun..."

"And if he had any mercy he'd just kill me already so I wouldn't have to look at him." Kalil continued. "I'm curious, were your ears always gonna fall off, or did you have to work hard to get there?"

"Okay, we got it, he can't understand you." Jumbo said. "We know, it's still not pleasant to hear."

"Eh. So those are the elephants..." Wulf nodded slowly. "These things look retarded."

"HA." Kalil replied. "See? I got under his skin."

"I count only three, though..."

"The fourth is down." Marcel spat.

"Is that so?" Wulf gulped. "Well, nevermind. As I was saying, I've never greased any palms in my life, and I DO NOT like bribes." he barked.

"Shall we formally introduce our crews?" Locust said.

"Oookay." Wulf shrugged. Then, in a complete turn from his earlier attitude, he raised his left fist.

"HYDRA!" he bellowed.

"HYDRA!" five fists followed him. Marcel looked at the strangers those fists were attached to.

The HYDRA uniform was gray, unlike his own, with almost skintight forearms and shins. The first one was a relatively short, burly man with smooth, narrow features, oily black hair, and a few scars on his face. The second one was... a woman of tan complexion and brown hair- unremarkable, but from her face and neck, as he'd learned in his time in Felarya, he could notice she was quite buff under all that loose clothing. The third one was tall, pale, with strong features, cold blue eyes and black hair. The fourth one was a medium man with only his right ear, and an eyepatch over his left eye. The fifth had similar looks to the fourth, he was angular- but his face was whole, and he had hair at that. If anything, he'd say he was actually the third's younger brother. The last man was a bit thin for a soldier, and he looked smooth, with short blond hair and blue eyes.

"Sakon Toshi." the first man said.

"Maeria Chichi." the woman said.

"Joichi Tuertore." the third spoke.

"Batteo Tuertore." Yes, he was someone's brother.

"Aldo Morel." That was all of them.

"Quico Onram Wulf." Wulf roared. "Introduce yourselves."

FOOD hesitated to introduce themselves. Locust took the initiative...

"I am Loc-"

"Nadimon Ventan!" All of a sudden, initiative seemed to suck.

"Marcel Amundsen." Marcel continued, following the man's drift. Locust could get the drift and introduce himself at the end...

"Romoi Alcoosen."

"Saulgogo Kuma." Saul said. Now that he had his hair cut short, it was black again.

"Giselle Beluga." Giselle grinned.

"Etriari Samot." the new guy spoke out.

"Desdemona Hesperide." Decima said, much to Marcel's surprise.

"Chinchilla Ratoncito Cobayon Peludo The Thirty-Fourth." Wow, what a long name.

"Locust." Locust spoke.

"Actually..." Nadimon began.

"Yes?"

"There's one left." he said, pointing at his companion, who once more had drifted off attention, and was looking at them blankly.

"Hello!" he smiled.

"Sarcos?"

"Yes?"

"We need you to introduce yourself to those fighters."

"Uh? Ah, right..." Sarcos shrugged. All of a sudden, his fingers twitched, and he stood up as straight as anyone else, his pupils narrowing- much to everyone's surprise, his voice sounded deeper all of a sudden. "Private Sarcos Ruuscasta, Third Southern Pelliste!"

A long moment of awkward silence followed his sudden salute.

"Cool." Wulf said. "Quite the talents you got there, Locust. I'm specially interested in... what did you say your name was?" he asked, looking at Sarcos.

"Private Ruuscasta!"

"Sarcos. That's the guy." Wulf said. "You been working with FOOD long?"

"I was hired last week! Operative Nadimon Ventan issued my recommendation!"

"Ventan was... you, right?" he asked, pointing at Nadimon.

"Yes."

"Well, let me explain you the details of this mission again." Wulf grinned. "Let's all listen, okay? From what I got so far, they intend to negotiate a trade agreement with a new world- Mebron." he clicked his teeth. "If everything goes well, food-" he stopped for a moment. "yeah, food and textiles will get a lot cheaper. So they got everyone they could, and their plan is to station a prodigious amount of fighters to prevent anyone from crossing into the southern zone of the Commons, getting anywhere near the path between the dimensional gate and the south door- which the ambassador is supposed to be taking, unless something happens. Now, as you may imagine, the Magiocrats are going to try to give the ambassador the scenic route, not just teleport him, 'cause they're trying to impress the man. Or woman. Or amoeba." he rolled his eyes. "Aaaand they'd really, really appreciate it if they didn't have to teleport him because something happened. Any questions?"

"I got one..."

"No questions, great!" he continued, not paying any attention to the questioner. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to split in pairs, and each of us will be teaming up with two official guards. Militia, Isolon Fist, take your pick, they really got everyone out this time. I picked Mars, Sarcos picked Nads, the rest of you are going to have to pick a partner too, and each couple will have to meet up with another couple soldiers, we'll make four-man squads and then we'll go watch the roads. Any questions?"

"Yes, what does this system accomplish?" Cobayon asked, frowning. "It seems needlessly complicated, and spreads the groups that work best thin instead of letting them work together-"

"So, no questions! Awesome." Wulf smiled. "Let's get going."

======

The black muzzle peeked out of the window. It was made of what had been once cast iron, but the paint and rust had transformed into a green and brown, almost forestlike pattern. The rest of the house was made of gray, tightly mortared stone, belonging to its occupant, who now sat close to the wall, bound, gagged, and asleep in her chair. Several doglike creatures, with stiff tails, short hair and striped hindquarters, feasted on the dead flesh of a fat mule, its carcass dragged into the adjacent room, the scent of blood and death wafting from the trail that came from outside through the front door- kicked open by the one responsible.

Standing a shade shy of six feet tall, now sitting behind the large cannon, this brown-skinned, bony man wore his wide, cold eyes with a disdainful expression, almost wondering how did he get away with this kind of thing. Didn't really matter either way- he was just about done fiddling with the cannon, checking several books and his calculator as he raised it to a very vertical angle.

Suddenly he dragged a buzzing object out of a pocket- a black brick with buttons. Raising it to his cheek, he put one end to his ear.

"This is Rover." he was relayed.

"Copy you, Rover." he relayed.

"I made off with some info. Your assumptions as to the timetable were incorrect. Twenty left. You need to hurry over there if you want to catch the boss." he received back.

"Fuck!" he narrowed his eyes for a moment. "Find me a closer route."

"A mile ahead there's an outpost that's got four FOOD ops. There's also two Fist soldiers."

"Too many people, too far."

"Well, there's one closer by. Four ops, two fists, one FOOD, one Hydra. But the Hydra guy is Wulf."

"OK, I'll take my chances."

"Take your chances with the Fist?" Rover exclaimed. "With... Wulf, Wulf of all people?"

"Gotta chance it with the Fist one way or another. I got a cannon to make a diversion, then I'll have the tigers ambush them. I got my dart guns- I'll dart the Fists when they aren't looking, pretend I'm a FOOD and too tard for war."

"A cannon? Tigers, a dart gun? Where do you get all this stuff?" Rover inquired.

"Uh... around." he spat between his teeth.

"Do you have a jetpack too?" he chuckled.

"..." the criminal didn't answer.

"It still seems like an unnecessary risk..."

"Orion over and out." the brown-skinned man pocketed back the bead, looking over the back of the wall, carefully inserting a very, very long fuse into the cannon. He unrolled it out of the house, and set it alight...

"Remember, when it goes BOOM, you CHOMP!" he yelled. The creatures raised their heads for a moment, looking at him. "And don't take too long!"

======

He hadn't had the chance to stand like this in a decade. Chin up, spine straight, gun across the lap, he stood in the middle of the road as the very image of steadfast, slightly intimidating vigilance. It brought back memories of what had once been his world, and now threatened to slip away until they were less than the aftertaste of a vivid dream. In those memories, he remembered standing together with dozens of companions, like the day when he could see his father's proud eyes as he witnessed him becoming a soldier of the Royal Guard.

It didn't take him long to realize how different things were now. He wasn't standing together with dozens of companions and his dad wasn't there- thankfully, because amongst those four people he'd been posted with, taking that position made him stand out like a sore thumb. He could almost feel their eyes on his nape.

Putting himself at ease, he took a few steps backwards, and took the measure of all his companions again.

There was Quico Wulf, who, true to his word, had decided to stick with him. He wore an amused face as he looked at him from almost a foot above. Then there were two others in the Isolon Fist uniform- a neko, female, and a human, a man. Both had black hair- she kinda reminded him of the late Talvi. It was interesting to see their armor, however- a solid, dark, almost earthern green, on a black, nearly form-fitting jumpsuit. Belts and packs covered their waists, a black, box-shaped weapon on their hands. He eyed with distrust the red glass object on a barrel under the cannon- a laser sight, if he remembered correctly.

"No more standing firm?" she asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"Standing firm was actually a good idea, in case someone saw you." she smiled.

"I can stand firm too." the man offered.

"That sounds good, why don't you two go stand firm?"

"It seems needless." Marcel said, making a tremendous effort not to sigh.

"The lady's gonna have to order you to stand firm, Mars?" Wulf barked. "She's our commanding officer, you know?"

"We're not all standing firm."

"Well, someone's got to do it. Are you the guy we need?"

Marcel fought against the impulse to purse his lips, and walked back to the middle of the road, standing firm with his weapon across his lap. He felt the steps of someone joining him to his side.

"Like two toy soldiers." Wulf laughed.

"Just ten more for the dozen." she chimed.

"I know they lost seven on his side."

He just blinked.

"So, any questions?" the Fist soldier standing next to him asked.

"Is she always like this?" he spat out of the corner of his mouth to his companion.

"Cocky? Yes. But we have the strength to back it up." the Fist soldier whispered back, proudly. It took a moment for Marcel to decide if that was a quip against him or not. He settled for no.

"All the better."

"You'll be safe in our hands. Now watch and learn from the experts in dealing with predators."

Marcel held the need to punch through this man's chest. Even if he could, that wouldn't prove much; he limited himself to keeping an uncomfortable silence.

"I haven't crossed a line, have I?" the man asked, through the silence.

"Let's worry about that later." Marcel gestured with his head, almost hissing.

"There's no need to be so uptight, you know. I was just joking around."

"How long have you been in the Fist?" Marcel blurted.

"It'll be three months in a week..."

"Have you ever seen someone get eaten?" the mercenary asked, taking a deep breath.

"No, why do you ask?"

-Because I'll be laughing my head off when you do.- he thought, wordlessly, shooting a glare out the side of his face. That Fist soldier would probably figure it out on his own sooner or later-

BANG.

"Be alert-!" Marcel quickly raised his gun, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise-

======

He quickly saw a strange animal leaping out of the brush at him- he estimated it to weigh a fair bit less than a hundred pounds. Its head was strange- not quite catlike, not quite doglike, maybe weasel-like... and it was lunging for him. One or the other...

BANG.

One discharge of the shotgun straight to its mouth later, the animal yelped as it was rolling along the dirt, back towards the bush it had tried to leap "stealthily" from. But something was wrong.

"Hey!"

Turning to his companions, he saw them beset by six more of those beasts- from this angle he saw short legs, stripes along their hindquarters, a strange symbol on their heads, and an almost ratlike, stiff, tapering tail. His companions fired the weapons quickly, but-

He quickly realized what was wrong. The animal that had lunged for him first had gotten back up to its feet, unharmed, and was now aiming for him again, leaping for his throat. The slug hadn't done SQUAT other than bounce pretty hard off the vermin. He quickly parried its jaws with the butt of the gun- and caught sight of a man hiding in the bushes.

He wore thick green clothes over his wiry, tan complexion, big bulging eyes and medium black hair around his thickly-featured face. Right now he sat before the bush, pointing at something behind him-

"You-!" he yelled, struggling to keep the stick between him and the beast. He finally managed to toss the thing off himself, sending it rolling away. He pumped his shotgun, and put another slug- this time right on its eye as it recovered. With another yelp, the thing bounced away, rolling on its back for a second. He interpreted that as a sign it was dead- then raised his gun at that man...

That man was hiding behind the wagon, aiming a strange gun at the woman as she raised her communicator to request help...

"Oh no you don't-!" he pumped the shotgun, pointing it at his head, ready to blow his brains right away-

Then he froze at the sight of those teeth drawn tight at the sight of the barrel pointed at them. The man had frozen too, his grip on the gun slacking-

"Throw the gun down now!" he roared, lunging for the man with his free arm-

-just in time for another of those beasts to strike for his hand. Its jaws clamped themselves shut around his forearm, and he screamed in pain- the man didn't miss a beat, and fired in that instant.

"NO!" Marcel snarled, dropping his shotgun, and bringing his free hand to bear on the teeth. With herculean effort, he pried the thing's maxilars against their will, pulled it out of his flesh, and threw it to the ground, where he stomped on it.

All to no avail- this thing couldn't be hurt.

"The hell...!?" he spat, watching the thing slowly get up- no, no way. He kicked it with all his might, throwing it into the brush at their assailant- where it got back up again nonchalantly.

The breath on his back signaled quickly that the number of foes wasn't decreasing anytime soon- and they were unhurt. Whatever magic protected those things, neither his shotgun nor his boot could keep it at bay. He had to...

"RUN, RUN, RUN!" Wulf cried, just as Marcel struggled with the last carnivore, now on his back. He managed to pry it off, grabbed his shotgun, and dashed for Negav, down the road- where had the man went? Where had the Isolon soldiers went? He just looked at Wulf, his toothy expression tense as he dodged one or two of those indestructible vermin.

"Where are they?"

"The boy ran off! That weirdo took the commanding officer!" Wulf snarled. "She had our radio!"

Marcel continued his sprint down the road, towards Negav city- he had done his part. The sound of gunfire should be enough for the patrols to realize something was amiss- and as soon as they got there, they'd know something was up. Maybe not, but right now, there was nothing to be won by risking his life. Those little monsters were unstoppable!

To further mess with his plans, three more of those things scrambled into the road from the brush around it. He gasped...

"They were expecting us...?" Marcel gasped, slowing down.

"Whateveeeeer!" Wulf cried, speeding up. The thylacines bared their teeth, and as he approached, they lunged for him-

-the man jumped, and stepping over them, he avoided the three carnivores. Marcel stared at these abominations for a minute...

"No guts no glory-!" he gasped, speeding up... right past these animals as they tried to lunge for him, holding his shotgun high above his head. He felt their hasty paws behind him, pursuing like street dogs... and they were gaining on him.

"We're doing a leftie!" Wulf cried.

"But Negav's ahead-"

"DO IT, I KNOW THIS PLACE!"

Without hesitation, Marcel let out a grunt, and kicked a tree to his right, turning to his left, following Wulf through the brush. With some difficulty, the four-legged animals shifted trajectory, and tried to follow them.

======

Walking out of the brush, he held a hand over her mouth, looking at his underlings still there. No doubt those mercenaries had thought the same as him- that in the whole conmotion, someone would probably notice and come their way, notice something was amiss, and probably tighten the defense around the ambassador. He shook his head- already planned for that.

He quickly released the Isolon Fist soldier- a neko, female, with black hair, and... who cared about the rest. The dart in her neck was going to ensure her usefulness, as it had with the other guy, now sitting on the ground a fair distance from him. Only the FOOD guys had escaped.

"I am a FOOD mercenary." he said, pointing at himself. "I am sleeping on my post. I shouldn't be sleeping on my post."

"You're a FOOD mercenary. You're sleeping on your post. You shouldn't be sleeping on your post." she repeated.

"Good." he raised his eyebrows. "Your comrade went to take a leak."

"My comrade went to take a leak." the woman repeated.

"You think I'm an idiot."

"I think you're an idiot."

"Say it with feeling!" he cried.

"I think you're an idiot!" she said, again, with feeling.

"You can't work with dumbasses like us. We're enervating and a liability. You're no babysitter."

"I can't work with dumbasses like you. You're enervating and a liability. I'm no babysitter." she repeated.

"With feeling!"

"I'm better off alone!" she cried.

He turned to the animals, grabbing something from under his clothes. A bottle of ketchup.

"Find and delay the escapees. NOW. Don't let any patrols see you. Three of you, play dead 'till they pick me up." he pursed his lips, squeezing ketchup all over them. Then, turning again to the neko, he shrugged. "And you better wipe your armor clean. Don't want anyone to smell their saliva on you."

======

Chased by four bizarre hunters, Wulf and Marcel made their way through the brush, the sound of paws and rustling hot on their trail as they found a cleared spot, with a large, nigh-abandoned farm- and more interestingly, a barn.

"Hey, Marcel, look at that barn!"

"I see it!" Marcel replied. -We could probably hide in there.- he thought to himself.

"We could probably set it on fire to send a smoke signal!" Wulf cried.

"What!?" he snapped.

"Just get there!" Wulf growled, as the two of them broke the treeline, chased by four small predators. They sprinted for the barn door, the wooden structure quickly growing before them. Crossing the massive double doors into the dark, musty environment, the two of them quickly grabbed one blade of the door each, and pushing them around their rusty hinges, they slammed the door shut on these four quadruped's faces with a satisfying thump.

"I think this'll work." Wulf smiled, barring the door from the inside with a rotting beam. Gasping, Marcel put his weight against the door, looking to his side, where the massive inu was doing the same thing.

"Heh." Marcel grinned. "They won't get in here anytime soon."

"Hear that? That's their frustration." Wulf smiled, pointing at the door as the ratlike monsters scratched the door, whining. He felt one or two soft blows as the creatures tried to bring it down- a feat for which they lacked the appropriate mass and force.

"Ahh... nothing like a good, solid barn door to keep the animals out..." Wulf smiled, as his back slid down against the door. Now sitting on the floor, just leaning his back against the barn door, he felt Marcel do the same thing. Both of them sitting, blocking the door together with a long wooden bar, there was no way these animals on the outside were going to bring it down, no matter how hard they tried. And hard they did try, slapping, pawing, and biting...

"KEEP IT DOWN, WILL YA!" Wulf barked, giving the massive door a slap. Unexpectedly, the hinges tore through the old wood...

The animals on the outside couldn't bring down the door, no matter how hard they tried. Oddly enough, the animals on the inside brought it down without even trying.

The door fell, surprisingly, on top of the four striped animals- pinning them under their weight. The two mercenaries exchanged confused looks.

"That could've been us." Marcel said.

Then he heard a crunch all around him. And another. And another.

"Just stop talking." Wulf groaned, as he quickly scrambled away from the collapsing barn, walking over the barn door that now pinned four hunters: Marcel quickly followed. One of them managed to free itself- just in time for the rest of the barn to fall on top of it.

Stepping away from the conmotion, Marcel and Wulf looked at the mess of wooden beams and splinters that now kept those otherwise unstoppable monsters pinned under its bulk.

"That means we win!" Wulf grinned.

Turning around, Marcel saw six more of those canids burst out of the brush, cutting short the celebration.

"Not yet!" he exclaimed, quickly looking for the nearest building. There was a small brick building, partly underground- a depot, probably. The small windows on the little exposed parts of the structure seemed safe enough, so he made a run for it. Wulf followed him closely- as they approached the small flight of stairs down in the middle of the farm, they slowed down, understandably, for the sake of not tripping. Thankfully, the door wasn't locked- or else, he'd have been sandwiched between the wood and the inu.

Tripping on each other as they crossed the threshold, Wulf quickly rolled off and closed the door with a kick. Struggling in the penumbra of the depot, he quickly caught sight of a chair, which he blocked the door with, and a large stack of fertilizer sacks, which he weighed the chair with. Marcel jumped up on a frenzy, coughing out a mouthful of floor dust. The dim yellow light that came from the small windows shone on some shelves full of mostly useless material. He had nothing to grow right now.

"I think we'll be safe here." Marcel replied.

"What? I thought you were more vicious than that!" Wulf snarled. "That guy is right now out there, threatening the Mebron Ambassador, and most importantly, your paycheck- I mean our... I mean 'my' paycheck!" he added. "We need to put a stop to him!"

"No one's life is in danger. If anyone saw the firefight, or heard it, they already know something's up." Marcel spat.

"And if you had half a brain you would already know something's up!" Wulf retorted, roaringly. "Do you think this is some two-cent villain? Do you know what those animals are?"

"What does it matter?"

"I dunno either, bulletproof giant rats! But you know what's more common than bulletproof giant rats? Plans! I'm sure if he had bulletproof giant rats, he had a plan too!" he growled. "I'm sure he was already counting on some silly detail like 'someone may hear me popping lead'!" he snarled. "I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't paid someone on the inside himself!"

"What makes you think that?" he spat.

"That you didn't blow his brains out when you had the chance! How do I know you're not in with him, huh!?" he snarled.

"You're not thinking straight. I'm not part to any illicit activities, much less this!"

"Then why were you the one that went up to him and distracted all of us!?"

"He fooled me!"

"Exactly! He had a plan, see now?" Wulf snarled.

"That doesn't make...!"

"Yes it makes...! You idiot!"

Marcel let out a grunt, turning around, looking at the window- the face of an incoming giant rat dashed into him. He quickly braced himself for the shattering glass-

THUNK!

-and was kind of disappointed when the animal bounced off the glass, that had proven too hard for it. The creature staggered to its feet, shaking its head...

"What was that noise?"

"It tried to break through the glass. It can't." Marcel pointed.

"It can't!?" Wulf smirked. "Excellent! Open the window!"

"What? We'll...!"

"It can't break the glass, Mars. Do you know what that means?"

"It means it isn't too strong?"

"Exactly! That thing can take infinite punishment. It's ultimate masochism..." he grinned, rummaging a roll of sticky tape from the shelves "...and I'm all about sadism." he wiggled his eyebrows.

Marcel blinked.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"I'm being practical here! We'll let 'em in one by one and shut their jaws with tape! What could they do about it, break out? With what?" Wulf snarled. "We gotta get outta here and lose 'em!"

"No, we got to stay here and hope those go away!" Marcel snarled. "They'll handle them out there."

Wulf pursed his lips.

"I thought you were more proactive than this. Aren't you a FOOD merc?"

"I'll only risk my life if something worthwhile hangs on it. We have nothing to gain or accomplish with that insane plan of yours!"

Wulf chuckled a little.

"Okay." he said, with a disapproving smile, lowering his shotgun slowly...

BANG! CRASH!

"Whoopsie, finger slipped." Wulf smiled sheepishly.

Marcel gasped as he turned around.

"Your finger slipped and shot the window!?" Marcel spat.

"My subconscious?"

"What?"

"Like a slip of the tongue! I prefer to communicate through violence." he shrugged. "I'm doing this with or without you, so GET YO KILLING GROOVE ON, SCUMBAG!"

The adrenaline pounding all over his body, Marcel found no time to disagree. He had to shoot something- like that weird rat trying to poke its face through the window hole.

"FUCKING SHIT!" he snarled, putting a round straight on its mouth. It jumped back, choking and taking the rest of the glass with it, but he knew, as he worked the slide, that it was only going to stop it for a moment. In fact, two of these hairbags were now poking their muzzles through the windowframe. He put another round on them...

"Fucking shit, now that's what I'm talking about, soldier!" Wulf beamed joyously, to Marcel's frenzied, incredulous chagrin.

"JUST FUCK YOU!" Marcel snarled. "Fuck you and everything you believe in!" he screeched, pulling the trigger on the animal on the window.

"I believe in you!" Wulf smiled, his teeth spread.

"SHUT UP!"

"I believe in yo momma!" he spat, leaning forward with a dumb smile. Firing again at the weird animal on the window, Marcel found the time to divert one arm from working the slide to punching Wulf in the mouth-

-before he even released the slide, he felt the back of his head smack against the wall, his chest hurting from some unknown factor, the air taken out of it.

"Eh-!?" he gasped, reaching for his shotgun.

"For trying to punch me!" Wulf said, grabbing one of the animals by the neck, wrapping its jaws, and legs, with tape, before tossing it right on top of him. The warmth of its muzzle, tightly caught in the folds of the duct tape, found its way through his shirt, wet teeth sliding over the newly tenderized flesh of his belly-

"Gah!" he screeched, punching the thing off himself, standing up, kicking it in the chest, while Wulf wrapped another one's muzzle in sealant tape.

"Two done, eight more to go!"

"Are you fucking insane!?"

"Are you SANE!?" he spat. "Do something sane, then!"

Turning towards the broken window, he saw three of those beasts trying to slip into the room. He quickly grabbed a chair, and stuck it on the empty frame, quickly jamming its legs in the way of those beasts.

"That's the sane idea? Don't make my fingers slip again!" Wulf barked, tossing the animal aside. A pair of clawed legs suddenly rode up Marcel's back, a bestial muzzle tapping his nape- he shook his shoulders, trying to throw the animal off, keep its teeth away from the vital position. When that didn't work, he spun-kicked the thing on its side- leaving the window frame open for a moment, which one of them outside used to get past his guard. Wulf quickly wrapped the animal's muzzle in tape- but just that.

"Take the chair, I'll take the tape!" Marcel growled.

"Okay!" Wulf grinned, handing him the roll-

It was empty.

"What?!" Marcel gasped.

"We gotta get OUT!" Wulf grinned, making a dash for the door. Marcel looked down, at the beasts trying to bite him, up at the beasts on the windowframe, then middle towards- Wulf's nape. Maybe HE should bite that one. Then he followed him out of the room, keeping his arms raised away from their paws. He gasped as he crossed the threshold, jamming the door closed behind him- in time for the creatures crossing the frame to reach the door. He had to kick one of their heads back into the storage room before the door would close.

"That ought to keep them in." Wulf smiled. Marcel let out a snarl, turning to see...

...the dogs from before, now free from the rubble, charging in with their muzzles wide open-

BANG!

The first one of them spun in midair kicking as Wulf shot it out of balance. Marcel made an effort to shoot another- and he failed. There were three predators lunging for his position down the flight of stairs that led to the door-

It seemed like there was no time to think. He reacted on impulse, jumping towards the side, at the earthern wall on the side of the stairs, as these ratlike monsters leapt down the stairs. Bending his knees, he crawled up, earning himself a vital second or two.

He spent them standing up, as the critter Wulf had stunned lunged at him. He pulled the trigg-

Out of ammo!

Tossing the useless stick aside, he grabbed the animal, and something caught his sight out of the corner of his eye- the broken window! Struggling, he managed to shove the damn thing through the windowframe, getting a bite or two in the process. Standing up quickly, he half-expected to see the other three running up his back already- instead, he saw Wulf holding one in each hand.

"In you go!" he smiled, throwing them into the same window, now almost level with the floor, a six foot drop to the ground on the other side. No chance they'd get away. "Well, that takes care of them."

"Wait, there's one missAH!" he spat, as one of them jumped on his back, its jaws closing around his nape- an oddly painless sensation. He quickly brought his hands behind him in a frenzy, grasping its muzzle- then, with a painful smack, he was brought to the ground. It took him a few moments to realize he was still alive.

"Hey, you had a bug." Wulf grinned. "I threw it into the room with the others."

Weakly staggering to his feet, Marcel took deep breaths.

"DON'T CALM DOWN!" Wulf snarled. "This is just the beginning!"

"What do you mean?"

"Now we go run and tell the Fist." Wulf explained.

Marcel shook his head, nonplussed.

"You got to be kidding me..." he gasped, feeling the resignation. The adrenaline over, he turned his stare to his forearm, and the broad teeth marks on it...

...which now had a massive hand wrapped around them, pulling him forward.

"We need to get that looked at!" Wulf growled over his yelp.

======

"This is patrol Delchya. I repeat, this is patrol Delchya! Copy me, mobile Psitha?"

"This is mobile unit Psitha. Your brother speaking." the man said through his headset as he continued to scan the area. Next to him, the driver kept the wheeled vehicle on the tracks, while behind them sat a skinny FOOD mercenary who had just been recalled from checkpoint F12. Whatever had happened there, it proved once and for all that FOOD was even beneath guard duty. "Status update?"

"We crashed our vehicle!"

"You crashed your vehicle?" the man in the headset frowned. "How did that happen, bro?"

"There was a red X on the dirt."

"Did you drive into...?"

"We avoided the X! We stopped short, but we fell into a pit trap!"

"A pit trap?" he repeated.

"Hehe." the FOOD mercenary giggled. It was a rough, short giggle, as if he found the idea of someone driving into a pit amusing. As if... he was any more competent.

"The vehicle was totaled, but we did find something. A note. It said 'don't shoot me, I got a bomb'."

"Have you updated central control about this?" the man on the companion's seat asked.

"Affirmative."

"You're okay, right?"

"We're all okay."

"That's good." he sighed. "Over and out. I have another one incoming..." the man sighed, pushing a button.

"So, a pit trap, eh?" the FOOD mercenary asked, curious. The man with a headset glared at his companion.

"I don't have time for this..."

Looking up at the rearview mirror to glare at their backseat passenger, the driver decided to take a side.

"We weren't expecting much, but you really put yourself to shame." he commented, whirling one hand off the wheel for a moment. The bumpy road rolled their transmissions as it went, the trees and grasses speeding away to whatever destination they had just cleared, as they approached the medic vans.

The scoundrel pursed his lips, hanging his gaze low on the back of the vehicle. The driver on the front kept yammering mercilessly on his incompetence...

"When you were all eaten by that naga, it was obvious you weren't the sharpest tools in the shed. But I didn't expect you to be so incompetent she'd have to call us to haul your ass out." the driver continued, watching him nurse his left arm, tightly tourniqueted, and covered in red liquid.

"Uh-huh." The brown-skinned man looked away for a moment.

"What's your name?" the driver asked.

"I'm Orion." he smirked, raising his gaze.

"Now that's an unusual name..." the driver said. "It's strange that Wulf ran away, though. You must've fucked up really bad."

"HEY! LISTEN!" the headset boomed into the passenger's ears. "THIS IS QUICO WULF! CHECKPOINT F12 WAS OVERRUN! THERE WERE STRANGE ANIMALS, LIKE RATS, SHOOTING THEM IS USELESS! AND THERE WAS A MAN! HE'S WIRY, TAN, BLACK HAIR AND BIG EYES! HE'S COMPROMISED THE SERGEANT!"

The driver assimilated the message quickly. Nodding slowly, he looked at the rearview mirror a lot more intensely, while pushing a few buttons. This FOOD mercenary, come to think of it, was rescued from point F12,
and he was wiry and tan, with black hair and... yes, definitely large eyes. Trying to make a fool of the Isolon Fist, eh? Well, two could play this game.

"Copy that, control." he said, pushing a button. "Please monitor our position and speed for Voidfingers." the passenger spoke, turning to face the driver. With a single movement of his eyes, he pointed at their passenger, and with a single wink, shaking his head turned into a sign that he wasn't who he said he was. A quick gesture and...

"FOOD, right?" the soldier in the passenger seat asked.

"Right." the man in the back seat replied.

"Do you remember why you joined?" the driver asked, licking his lips.

"Uh..." Orion improvised. "It was a number of things actually..." the passenger soldier gave his companion a thumbs up.

SCREECH!

He bounced in his seat with the grinding halt of the machine, his leg going numb from the shock against the door which he flew over, his sight filling with blue-

"AAARRGH!"

======

-as he flew in and out of a vortex. He bounced and skid along the ground, finally landing on his side, his legs twisted over his arse, the blurry world spinning around him. The earth shook and trembled with the beat of hasty steps all around him...

"Target isolated." someone said. He barely managed to raise his eyes enough to focus on a black-robed figure with a black crown- no, it was a white-robed figure, with a black vest- and a short black mane of hair, and a white face- no, it was two figures with a single face and a black hair on the robe- Shaking his head quickly, Orion finally managed to focus on the one before him. He spat the dirt on his mouth, staggering to his arse, catching a glimpse of twenty or so men- no, couldn't be that many- had to be less than a dozen-

The man before him was a neko. His ears betrayed him. He had black hair, a black vest from under which the white of his robe protruded in all directions. And most importantly, he had a white, almost porcelain-like mask, probably ivory- whatever. The mask portrayed swirling lines that formed crosshairs at some points. Most interesting was his posture- relaxed and steady. As if he hadn't been phased at all. He had to be one of those battlemages.

The soldiers around him wore a stylized armor of green and brown earth colors, which judging from its thickness and apparent weight, had to be some sort of plastic. Like in toys. And they all had very, very big guns, guns that were probably full of bullets.

It took him a moment to realize he had been drawn out of the trajectory his dogs had been trailing- and now he had been isolated. And surrounded.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he cried, opening his vest, showing a bunch of red sticks. He had a plan, though he had yet to admit to it. "IF I DIE-" he roared "YOU ALL TOO!"

He grit his teeth, feeling the new hesitation on the soldiers' steps- now with a bunch of words he couldn't make out.

"Why so shy?" he spat. "What's with you people?"

"Those you wear aren't explosives." someone said- he turned to his left, catching the rugged nose of a woman with almost rhombus-shaped ears. Not a neko- an inu. "I know this smell."

-SHIT! How did they find out so quickly?- Orion grimaced. -It's time for plan B.-

"It... it's not salami! It's really explosives!" he insisted, taking a string from under his vest. "Watch, they explode!" he screamed, pulling the string.

Nothing, of course, happened, much to everyone's disappointment.

"She never said it was salami." someone mentioned.

"No... nothing more to do here!" he cried, closing his eyes and clenching his teeth, lowering his face and clutching his ears. Clearly, he was outta tricks.

"Fire at w-"




A sudden shockwave cut him off. He clung to his mask for an instant, bracing himself, a wave of scaldingly hot air blowing outwards from their target, who had suddenly been trapped in a swirling dust cloud. Weren't it for his faceplate, he was sure some of it would've gotten to his eyes.

"Fire!" he insisted.

He didn't have to say it twice. Several guns were pointed at the flailing mass of debris, spitting hot bullets through it- then upwards, as the man emerged from the dust cloud, a long jet of fiery propulsion coming from a rocket on his back, displacing prodigious amounts of dust and scalding air all around.

"Be seein' ya suuck-errs!" Orion chimed, grinning as he violently accellerated upwards into the sky, followed by several streams of dense, hard ballistic alloy, aimed against the blue depth of the sky and the red-hot light of the rocket. His grin was only wiped when he tilted sidewards slightly, the treacherous rocket spinning out of control, taking its improvised rider out for a spin while it was at it.

On the bright side, that made him basically impossible to hit.

======

Minutes later, sitting at a table by a row of vehicles on a broad clearing, Wulf faced a healthy-looking woman in a white robe, with pale blue hair and yellow eyes, a metal plate crowning her chest with a symbol of an eye superimposed over a fist. Several soldiers kept watch around the area, watching the occassional vehicle come or go.

"Well done. You averted a disaster." the woman said.

"All in a day's work, Lesona!" Wulf laughed.

"I must confess I had my doubts as to whether you'd be still useful, Wulf. Your reputation notwithstanding, allying with FOOD made it hard to take you seriously, as did lowering your price to that figure." she added, turning her gaze towards a man down to his pants and boots, the skin of his back exposed to the rays of the sun, his entire upper body naked except for a bandaged arm. A field medic was washing down his nape area with a piece of white fluff, probably soaked in antiseptic.

"Yeah, I really needed back in the game, and them too, so I cut a few corners." Wulf laughed.

"Such as?"

"Well, for one, none of 'em FOOD guys is getting paid!" he exclaimed.

"Please don't tense up like that!" the medic exclaimed, as the back of the man she was treating

"My bad." the FOOD operative said, relaxing his back.

"Just relax. You've done your part, you managed to throw ten of those monsters into a shed. That's heroic enough. We'll take care of the rest, just let me treat this wound. The nape is a very sensitive area." the medic insisted.

"Okay." he sighed, loosening his back muscles.

"For the record, he was nothing but a pain in the ass!" Wulf cried, pointing at the FOOD operative. "Everything they say about 'em is true! He can't fight, he gets distracted all the time, he shat his pants, and he couldn't even gun one of these critters!"

"No, don't go tensing up on me again, you!" the medic insisted, putting both her hands to his back.

Wordlessly, he tried to stay focused on relaxing, closing his eyes.

A strange growl rose through the noises of the forest, barely audible under Wulf's chiming. He went quiet trying to identify the sound, despite Wulf's provocations...

"He's so dumb he can't even speak!" Wulf stressed. "No wonder all your folks got eaten!" he screamed, turning to him for a moment, the growl starting to become more defined.

"You may be crossing a line, Wulf." Marcel said, raising his head to better catch the growling noise- and earning himself a slap on the back of his head. He lowered his head again.

The growl turned into a hiss, a screech starting to come defined through it.

"May as well cross them all for bragging rights!" Wulf spat. "You were a total drag, I could've done it twice as fast if I didn't have to keep your fool ass from dying!" he clicked his tongue. "You FOOD ass!" he giggled at his own joke. Meanwhile, unseen to Marcel, the source of the noise flew over the canopy- a man with a rocket strapped to his back, screaming his ass off as he looped loops through the air.

"Are you quite done yet?" the FOOD ass asked, still trying to catch that noise.

"Don't go hurrying me, I'll be done when I'm done." the medic insisted, firmly.

"I meant Wulf." Marcel spat.

"Maybe." Wulf laughed. "Anyway, since we've exceeded your expectations, Lady Lesona, I was wondering if I could get a little b-?"

"The Hydra Platoon may have made an impression, but this was last-minute heroism." Lesona cut in quickly, her smile vanishing, as she pinpointed the source of the noise, turning to look at Orion in the air. "What we expected was for the checkpoint not to be overrun in the first place. To be fair, you'll be paid normally, but that's all."

"That's all?" he asked, turning to look at Orion over the canopy too.

"Yes, that's all." she insisted, watching the loon scream as he flew loops in the air.

"What's that noise?" Marcel asked.

"It's nothing. Stay still, blast you!" the medic snapped, slapping him in the ear as she turned to gawk at the rocket-propelled goon for a minute.

that's a nice chapter ^^
Wulf looks an interesting character, cheerful, over-confident, arrogant, a bit assholish but more than meet the eyes .
And the moment with the elephant never fall to make me grin XP
I admit i was a little lost at times with that Orion and this plan of his though ^^;... I don't really understand what he was up to. Or was he just a crazy ?

Karbo wrote:

that's a nice chapter ^^
Wulf looks an interesting character, cheerful, over-confident, arrogant, a bit assholish but more than meet the eyes .
And the moment with the elephant never fall to make me grin XP
I admit i was a little lost at times with that Orion and this plan of his though ^^;... I don't really understand what he was up to. Or was he just a crazy ?

Glad to know the reviews on Wulf are coming positive. As for the elephants... sorry, guys, they'll be taking a short break.
Orion, on the other hand, I don't remember what was his exact plan. It doesn't matter anymore- I think he wanted to kidnap the ambassador.

Also, let me apologize in advance for the doublepost...

WARNING! THE CURRENT ASSIGNMENT CONTAINS VORE. CAUTION AND JUDGEMENT ARE MANDATORY WHILE READING THIS MATERIAL.

======

CODENAME HYDRA

Assignment 5- The Howl

======

The Murmur Inn, Seelvee, and Grigor belong to Feadraug.

======

Going fast was counter-intuitive, but he had to grudgingly admit that Wulf's driver was doing an excellent job. Stealing brief glances left and right at the trees they breezed by at reckless speed, he listened intently at the jungle. Even though the vehicles were themselves eerily silent, he felt uneasy about the sounds of the forest. The soft humming under his waist was pervasive and deafening. All he could hear told him nothing. The truly important sounds were either masked- or hiding.

"Hey."

The last voice he wanted to hear.

"There's no need to be so uneasy. We have a plan this time around."

-But we still have you. That's bad enough.-

"We had a plan."

"This one's better."

-What is it you pantywaist think you know about better plans?- the large man thought, turning to face the man sitting next to him on the jeep. Nadimon, still smooth as silk, still with that white hair all around his head... it was white all-year long, unlike Saul, whose hair was a party trick.

The young lad gulped at the sight.

"I know I was a problem last time we were there. But we're safer this time around. I can tell, I got a good feeling."

"You're not reassuring me."

"Hush."

Meeting the eyes of a woman on the rear mirror, Marcel took an instant to scan them. Brown, over her dark brown skin. Strange, he'd have expected them to be yellow for some reason.

"Hush. I need to hear the engine."

Marcel nodded politely, but disinterestedly, and turned his eyes back out at the forest.

Whatever reassurance the sight of the walls of Negav had given him, he could easily spot trees that, he guessed, would dwarf those quite easily. He guessed, because the more frequent, smaller trees were holding their canopies in the way of an accurate height measurement- their girth was still monumental though, even in the distance. The thick canopy around this part cast shade on the ground, a mild echo swallowing and vomiting back every sound. The shade felt a lot unlike his last trip through this area- he could still remember the scalding sun on his shoulders, the cries of scores of vermin, and above all, her. With her golden flowing hair and her voice, muffled and distorted through the canopy, giving him no clue as to her nature until he saw that teal blue tail. Her relentless ambushes, her crystalline, taunting laughter-

"That was a lot farther to the west."

He turned his head.

"We also have a better avoidance technique this time around. We're driving something smaller than an elephant, and this four-wheeler is quieter than a horse. It must be electric... hell, it's quieter than me."

"I agree."

Nadimon let out a soft chuckle, acknowledging the snark.

"We're moving faster than they track, too."

"That's what I'm worried about. Too fa- huck!"

He couldn't finish; the jeep rocked horizontally, and he had to hunch to keep together. Pursing his lips, he laid back as the front of the car swung right up, clambering over a gnarled root, the thick rubber wheels rolling right up over the foot of the tree. It couldn't have been farther than a few inches, but to him it felt as brutal as a Ferris wheel.

"You're not used to all-terrain vehicles either?"

That other voice was Alcoosen, sitting next to the driver. Large, bald, scarred, swarthy, he was as rugged as he was reliable. And he was a good friend, too.

"I guess not."

"Any faster and it'll be a rollercoaster here. How about it, can we go faster?" Nadimon asked the driver.

"I'm going as fast as I- dare." she took a sharp turn to the right. "A hundred fifty arrows per hour isn't too shabby."

"What...?" Marcel's train of thought was cut off as the car climbed a small slope. He decided to take a short look forward, wondering just what kind of terrain they were driving over. Being on the back seat really didn't help him see closest to the car, but as far as he could see, there were roots, bushes, and slopes in every direction, some taller, some shorter, some rocky enough to qualify as speed bumps, and enough trees to make him drive at least half of the speed she was going at. But ruthlessly and fearlessly, she didn't slow down one bit. It didn't matter how many times the body of the car rocked, or how many times they could feel the rocks gnashing against the tires, the pace wouldn't slow down.

For what it was worth, it allowed them to pass by some truly interesting and threatening features. Holes in trees, large rocks, a spider web that was too large for comfort, clearings (those were the most threatening to approach and the most relief when they turned out to be empty). There were times when an animal came too close to the front of the jeep, but that didn't stop her. It was these animals' responsibility to get off her way, and they didn't slack.

Narrowly avoiding the remains of an old brick house he could barely see coming, the course started raising the difficulty straight ahead. She dodged a pond next, and then proceeded into the narrow space between two trees. As the trees grew thicker, she had to go out of her way- finally, rolling around a small grove, going towards a more open place. He feared there could be predators there, but, he reminded himself, those were actually quite rare. That was hardly any consolation for those who had already met one... but well.

To his left he saw a large hole on a pile of roots. They turned right, and moved on forward for what might have been twenty blocks. He could catch the two other cars following theirs through the rearview mirror; that's when he noticed something new. He gasped as she nearly skidded away, narrowly avoiding the fell trunk. They passed by the roots at the end of it, neatly pulled out of the ground by some creature he could hardly guess at, the black, fertile dirt thrown as far as fifty feet away from the wound in the land.

======

He had barely the time to regret wondering what had done that as the car stopped short of hitting a large rock, barely managing to skid around at the last minute, almost getting away- if it weren't that the ground crunched under the vehicle, sinking its front farther than its wheels could climb.

"Damn!" she reversed gear. The wheels stopped, and then spun backwards quickly. Wobbling for a moment, the vehicle turned back...

...and then something jumped out of the ground, surprising them.

Through the ground would've been a better way of putting it, actually. Their car was trying to get itself out of a ditch, with a rock on one side, and a new hole on the ground from which a writhing, long mass of black, chitinous legs and compound eyes crowned with a gaping, dry maw lined with multitudinous needle-like teeth, two scissorlike scythes- there was no time to do anything. It was coming on his side. He barely knew what he was doing when he ducked below the door, trying to unbuckle his seatbelt- it didn't respond. The monster's blade screeched through the metal it sliced, and he could only try to inch away from it to- the blade cut his seatbelt, but now the thing was resting its weight on the car, tilting it farther down on his side, making it impossible to climb to the other side.

Later on, he'd remember this moment as the greatest mistake of his life. But the adrenaline had him act recklessly.

As the creature tried to bring its maw on him, he jumped towards it- and then dived beneath. Rolling under the creature's legs, he fell. Somehow. The next thing he realized was that he had landed somewhere soft and moist. The smell... this was the smell of mud and dead grass. Something roared behind him, in the darkness. He reached for his back-

-no weapon.

======

All the light he could find came from the hole on the ceiling, sporadically blocked by a large armored centipede. Reaching for his rucksack, he took a flashlight, and aimed it at what turned out to be another tonorion.

"Oh no-!"

The creature seemed to find the flashlight blinding, for it recoiled an instant- just an instant. It charged right in the moment later, and he jumped to the side. However good its armored structure may have been at resisting blows, it seemed to have a little problem turning back around to face him. It could've had more problems, but it would not do to complain. Howling with nearly paralyzing force, the beast dove at him, its claws high...

Feinting for an instant towards the side of the wall, he leapt off, rolling on the dirt again, feeling the creature's claws scrape against the walls of the tunnel. Enraged, the thing kept up that frightening growl, and he gulped.

"Use this!"

He looked up to watch an object fall quickly- just as the thing charged. Following a hunch, he shut off the flashlight and jumped to the side- hopefully that thing wouldn't adapt to illumination changes too well... he couldn't tell if that was the case or not. A large case-shaped object had hit the ground, and as he felt its shape, he recognized the buttons. Disengaging the safety, he hefted it over his shoulder, and holding the trigger, he aimed for the howler in the dark.

He pulled the trigger.

Ahead of him, a burst of light and heat forced him to recoil for an instant. When he could open his eyes again, he saw the centipede, like a vision from hell, knee deep in the burning mud, half-covered in fire that licked at the round walls of the primeval cave. It spat, and howled, and growled, and then it pointed itself back at him, revealing its maw.

He pulled the trigger.

The grenade flew towards the creature's maws, and hitting its teeth, it spewed its burning payload all over its mouth and eyes. Blazing, the creature withdrew a few steps, quietly, shaking and twisting, banging its head at the ground as if that would put out the fire. Highlighted by the flaming tongues, the thing recoiled down the tunnel, backing off like one would never think a centipede could, fearfully scampering back down its tunnel, disappearing down an intersection.

Only once out of sight did it dare howl again, letting it all out in a long, protracted howl, almost like a death throes.

"Marcel!"

Marcel looked up, lowering the box-like grenade launcher. Alcoosen and Wulf were up there, staring down from the hole on the ground.

"Mars, you okay?" Wulf asked.

"I thought we weren't allowed to handle those toys." he smiled, marveling at the weapon.

"I won't tell if you don't tell. Now we have to get you outta there before something comes to check up."

"Speak of the devil..."

The creature peeked out of the corner. He heard it let out a low growl, half its eyes menacingly glowing in the darkness, tracking him.

"Just get out."

What? And drop it like that? No way he was going to do that.

"It's here."

"I know. Don't do anything. Bring the rope quickly..."

Pointing the cannon at the critter, the weapon let out a click, engaging a loaded barrel. The beast, he thought, ought be warned that he had more in store were it to try and lunge at him again...

Then he heard the howl again. The thing came right back, from straight ahead. He aimed the launcher... but it didn't approach him. It just raised its scythe-like limbs, and slashed at the ceiling.


Whatever its game was, it had played with the wrong guy. One pull of the trigger sent the grenade flying straight into the carapace- bouncing off against the crumbling dirt. Backing away from its handiwork, the beast disappeared behind the avalanche of dust.

Raising his gaze to the mouth of the hole, he saw the rock that Wulf was standing next to, that lay right beside the car, slide down, throwing both Wulf and Alcoosen off balance. One of them managed to steady himself, but the other one had the car hit him on the side down- and fell down the crumbling hole. Marcel sped towards his companion, helping him up, and the two of them ran down their side of the tunnel before they were buried alive.

======

"Heh... now that's what I call a sore loser..." the man sighed, steadying himself against the wall. By his voice, he could tell it was Alcoosen.

"My flashlight got buried."

"And your shotgun got snagged on your seat."

"But I have a grenade launcher."

"Did you bring enough grenades for everyone?"

"You got your shotgun?"

"Yeah."

"You have double the ammo, then."

"I'd rather have half the ammo and double the shotguns."

"Come on, we got to find a way out of this place. As soon as we can see the sun, we try the communicator. Can you walk?"

"I don't think anything's broken."

"Let's hope so. Flashlight?"

With a soft click, Alcoosen turned on his flashlight, attaching it quickly under the barrel of his shotgun.

"Cover me." Alcoosen went down the tunnel. Marcel followed a safe distance behind, not yet lifting the launcher to a firing position- he didn't know how long he'd have to walk with it like that.

"How far might it extend?"

"Shh!"

Well, it was a stupid question.



Before them lay nothing but a round hole in the dirt that extended farther than the pale light did. The air, moist, lukewarm and still, carried no sound beyond that of their own footsteps in the muddy dirt. With each of their steps, the angle of their light shifted; the color of the walls, imperceptible in the penumbra, shimmered faintly- reminiscent somewhat of a still, soundless pulse. The scents of wet dirt and burnt keratin, now that they were able to feel them, forced themselves deeper in their airways with every breath.

Barren throughout its length, the tunnel felt warmer and more choking with every step. A pungent, chemical stink joined the other smells midway through, fading slowly from mind as they progressed.

The light came to shine upon a section of the tunnel that swelled and broadened. The air seemed almost unnaturally still in here; another essence, this one of decay, filled their senses. As he approached, Alcoosen scanned the walls- the tunnel bloated into a chamber here. Most frightening, however, was what lay in this chamber- a pale, segmented, cracked carapace at least twenty feet lay before them.

And then there were several, each larger than the next...



These exoskeletons, now gray with abandon, had a slit on top where the material had been forced open during shedding. The men watched in morbid fascination, asking themselves questions could only be met with obvious answers.

"Think it's pissed off at you, Marcel?"

Flashing his light around, Alcoosen heard a growl coming from the ceiling.

"Uh-oh..."

"Withdraw into the chokepoint."

The two of them quickly retreated back into the tunnel.

"Let's check again. I think that smell was supposed to tell us something."

Backtracking their way through the tunnel, the two men made their way to where the stench was.

"Check for drafts. That stench's got to come from somewhere."

Pointlessly scrunching his nose against the fetidness, Marcel searched the walls for whatever clues he could find.

"Are you sure you want to find the source of the smell?"

"The tonorion left it alone. That makes it my new best friend."

Clenching his hand, he felt he had touched something. Something slimy, whose smell he was looking for.

"Ugh- found it."

"Excellent!"

Alcoosen walked up to Marcel, who wiped his hand on the mud. Using the flashlight, he found a small trickle of an almost clear liquid- on second examination, it was kind of a mustard yellow. It was also the foulest smell they had felt in some time.

With the butt of his shotgun, he enlarged the trickle hole, allowing it to flow out faster.

"What the hell is that?"

"I think it's..." he grimaced. "...guano."

"Guano?"

"Yeah, bat poop. It's a pretty good fertilizer. Also full of parasites... we're going to have to hit the health center once we're back in Negav."

"We're also going to need new clothes..." Marcel pointed, as the liquid draining out of the growing hole now let them smell the full intensity of its ammoniac stench. His eyes watered.

"Push me up..."

Somewhat awkwardly, he hoisted his companion up into the hole. His companion pulled him up the hole afterwards.

If it reeked down there, there was no word for the infernal, noxious vapors hanging over them in the cave they crawled up into. The stalactites lay covered with a pale, mustardlike goo that carpeted the ground. A soft gurgling sound seemed to come from both nowhere and everywhere; pointing their light down, they saw that the gooey crap was partly submerged.

"You were right, Marcel, we were going to need new clothes..."

Flashing the light up, a series of squeaks and screeches answered as ratlike things with leathery wings fluttered to get away from the burning illumination. Enough of them remained perched to the ceiling, however, for them to identify these things as bats. Strangely, those bats were green and red- but there was no time to admire that. Not with this scent still trying to penetrate their faces.

"Don't let your guard down when we're out. This is still the Forest of Whispers..."

Making their way through the yellow slurry, they quickly came to the exit- a crevice on the ceiling.

"Hoist me up."

"Your shoes are all dirty." Marcel put his hands in position.

"Wash your hands before dinner." Alcoosen climbed up.

"Pull me up."

"Your hands are all dirty." the scarred man reached down for him.

"I'll wash them before dinner."

"You cheeky pig, you."

Wiping hands and feet off the gunk with the grass, they looked up through the canopy. It was already afternoon, and the sounds of vermin were already loud in the air. Though the day wasn't as hot as the last incursion in the Forest of Whispers, the stench, the sweat, and the separation combined into their strongest feeling of alienation so far.

"Grenades?"

"Grenade."

"Swell..."

"Try the comm."

Alcoosen fiddled with something on the hem of his neck.

"Alcoosen here. Wulf, do you copy me?"

There was static for a moment.

"Is anyone out there?"

Nothing happened. There was only interference.

"Alcoosen and Amündsen here. If anyone is out there, please give us a signal." he insisted. "Is anyone out there? I repeat, is anyone out there?" It was obvious that no one was there.

"Are we out of range?"

"Let's just find some high ground. They can't be too far."

"Unless they ditched us."

"He doesn't strike me as the type to do that."

"Think he'll risk his hide for us?"

"Risking his hide is what he does for a living, Marcel."

"Not for us."

"Trust me on this- he will come through."

"That asshole?"

"Back in the galleon we all were like that. Being a dick goes a long way to keeping you sane."

"That hardly justifies..."

"Tell that to him after he saves us."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I'll spend my last moments hearing you bitch and moan, that fair?"

"He better..." he looked around for a high spot. Damn it all if he could come up with a better plan right now.

Scanning the treetops for any suspicious activity and finding none, they felt satisfied to wander up a faint slope, always closest to the trees.

"By the way, Marcel, just a little constructive criticism..."

"Hm?"

"You never gave a second thought to how Locust cursed. Why are you suddenly all whine about Wulf?"

"Guy hasn't earned my respect."

"Yet."

"Or ever."

"You looked at his record? It's pretty good."

"Probably fake; all but admitted he wasn't really clean."

"Wish we weren't either. We could have some real guns that way."

"We'd also have trouble back in the city."

"We have trouble right now."

"But it's the trouble we're looking for."

Alcoosen paused for a second.

"He hasn't earned your respect?"

"No."

"You're losing mine right now."

"Let's go up that slope."

They made haste, aware of the window of opportunity that closed tighter with every second Wulf allegedly spent searching. Even Alcoosen, with all his apparent optimism, could barely shake off the dread that picked at the back of his neck. He blamed his companion somewhat- being lost with a jerk was fine. Being lost with a jinx was not.

A branch above them creaked- something zoomed by.

By reflex, both of them hopped forward before looking up. Much to their amazement, something flew downwards at them- or rather, a set of somethings. A moment later, when they had broken into a sprint, yard-long arrowlike green spikes had sunken into the grass around them, after a long flight down from the canopy. That... had been rather unexpected.

The vine firing the volley usually wrapped around the tree trunks, making it rather obvious. This one was wrapped around the branches, and as it spun trying to point its thorns at them, the wood of the tree creaked- it was obviously pretty old. The plant had zero aim, but the sheer volume of firepower had them darting towards the nearest root... which they ducked behind. The creaking and whooshing subsided slowly...

"That was close..."

And then without warning, there was a loud CRACK, and the sound of foliage falling down. The two of them wondered for a moment- but just a moment- what it was; the whooshing of the leaves against the wind told them it was a branch, heading towards them, far too slowly for it to be a moving tree. Nonetheless, reflex gained again, and the two of them jumped to their feet and sprinted...

As the branch swung over them, they caught a glimpse of the giant thorny vine that still held to it, with its other end still up in the foliage of the tree. Like a shooter riding on a pendulum, slowly writhing to bring more of its thorns at them, the creeper fired another volley from a different angle- one in which the root offered no protection.

As the vine hit the apex of its swing, the two of them rolled on the ground, and tried to shield themselves with their guns. Alcoosen's relatively small weapon kept him busy- the air-propelled thorns were relatively slow, giving him a good shot at parrying whichever one came his way. Marcel brought up his heavy, thick grenade launcher- it was larger. Though a bit unwieldier, it should make a better shield.

======

After a frantic attempt at parrying off the deadly bolts, Alcoosen noticed he was still alive. Turning to Marcel, however, he saw him staying still...

"What are you doing!?"

Before his eyes, Marcel slumped on his side. A thick, green needle stuck out of his thigh...

"You gotta be kidding-!"

Without thinking, he ignored the vine that still writhed to bring more of its needles to bear, and grabbing Marcel, he dragged him (or, much rather, swung him) behind a tree. The volley of green missed him, by sheer miracle, as he threw himself afterwards- feeling the sound of the vine as it twirled in midair, the branch sweeping against the ground, trying now to wrap behind the trunk they had just...

...it ran out of momentum just as it was about to peek over. Growing flaccid, the vine hit the ground, though it still had more than enough spikes for him.

Turning to Marcel, the sight would've jarred a lesser man. His eyes were wide open, almost popping out of their sockets, his limbs twitching, his mouth open powerlessly, unable to make anything other than a throaty rattle pass through his airway. His chin seemed to disappear into his neck, as if melting, face showing nothing but horror at what might very well constitute his last, painful moment amongst the living.

"Marcel!"

Digging in his pocket, he found the autoinjector. Removing the cap, he quickly pushed his companion's head to the side, pinning him. The cap exuded an alcoholic smell- he rubbed the cottony side of it over the area of the neck he meant to stab with the needle. Pursing his lips, he pushed aside any thought of the man dying- there was no time for that. One stab of the autoinjector, then go find Wulf, and the rest was the inu's problem.

Squeezing gently, doing his best not to rip open the vein he'd stabbed, despite the powerless panic that his fellow fighter seemed to be in, he finally injected the milky material into the man's bloodstream. Removing the needle, he released the man's head.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Marcel's eyes looked blankly at him. He wasn't struggling.

"I said, was it?"

He wasn't conscious. He wasn't breathing.

"Marcel?" he put finger to his neck, looking for the heart's rhytm.

It wasn't beating.

======

Marching. He could deal with the feeling of vulnerability later. Right now, he had to deal with the vulnerability itself. He needed to get to high ground. He needed to get to high ground now. He needed to contact with Wulf, and if that failed, well, come up with something.

Behind him, the creeper kept crawling- he could hear its vines drag themselves along the ground, creaking against the roots. He peeked at it from behind a tree- the thing was, slowly, approaching his companion's dead body. Well, the body belonged to the sea! No further business to be had here. He had already taken what he needed.

He kept to the tallest trees, looking up rather often. He didn't want any more surprises-

-but it didn't matter.

Feeling the gravity whip his brain into his mouth, he tried to pull the trigger, if only as a desperate gamble, but the weapon had flown off his hands. Unable to do anything else, he let out a brief wail in the throes of panic. Whatever arrogance he had shown before, the surprise had thrown it into the back seat, his writhing, gasping form trying desperately to gain any kind of control over the situation, wrapped as he was in wooden limbs. All he managed to do was flail before a pair of huge, azure... eyes.

"WHAaAT!?"

"Hello, little one." A gash in the wood under the eyes quickly turned out to be a mouth- a mouth that was green on the inside. He reminded himself not to think of the mouth- not yet. That was up to her, not him, but pragmatism sounded like a bad joke right now.

"What... what's going on!?" he spat.

And the tree, looking back at him, giggled. It felt kind of like a low, humming rumble, carried more by the soft wood around his body than by the air between them.

"I just caught you, what does it look like?" she giggled.

'caught you.' 'little one.' It also looked like a tree. He had the word on the tip of his tongue, but what it was just wouldn't come to his lips. Azure eyes, a crown of leaves, hide covered in bark, roots- the dark, green pit of her mouth- where the sound came from. Her angular features clashed somewhat with the smooth feel of her wood, which had him struggling to get a grip on something, as if he'd fall somehow.

"Aren't you a jumpy one?"

"Jumpy...? Ah, I've never been grabbed like this. There was a time it came close, but I was kind of expecting it..." he blurted. "I couldn't see you at all, didn't figure out you were there..."

"I was asleep." she smiled. "But your smell woke me up! What's that nastiness, little one? I don't think I've ever smelled anything like that."

"The smell!? Oh, right, I'm all dirty with guano!" he blurted.

"This isn't like any bird droppings I've smelled. Many birds come by, and the smell is nothing like this."

"It's... it's bat guano actually! From bats! Thousands of bats, I've crawled in the stuff- I'm really icky all over!"

"Then you should take off your coat. Just let me."

Alcoosen took a deep breath. There was no downside to letting her take off the coat, right? After all, there was nothing but guano in there. The exhilaration of the moment kept him from struggling until her fingers were right on top of him, when the ones wrapped around him loosening slightly.

"No, don't!" he swung at her fingers. "Don't!"

She blinked.

"There's no need for that coat. Just let me take it off."

"I'm... all icky, all over. N... no use taking off my coat!"

"But it's taken the worst of it."

"I- I really fancy this coat!" he squealed. "I- I'm- I should probably introduce myself, Romoi Alcoosen, what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm Seelvee." She held him around eye height. "Pleased to meet you, Romoi Alcoosen. What is it about your coat?"

"Right!"

"Why is this coat so important to you?" she asked.

"Ah, uh..." -That's right, the coat... my radio's there, in the pocket she can't see me fiddle with. She just lifted me up, too. I might get a shot at this...-

"Well, the coat was really expensive, so I'd like to wear it for this picture, get what I'm saying?" he said, wriggling one hand.

"Mmm... no." she smiled, looking curious.

"I'm not going to lie to you, I mean... Most of the time, I do the picking up with the ladies."

Horrible pun. She didn't laugh. He dug into his pocket. "Your FINGERS are kinda STIFF, like WOOD..." he lowered the incoming volume all the way down, starting to yell real loud. "You BLEND too well to take a picture of, you know?"

"Well, I am a dryad after all?" her eyes narrowed as he fiddled.

"It's kinda funny when you think about it!" he bleated. "I've never seen a PICTURE of your kind, because you BLEND in so well! I'd totally have to TRIANGULATE to know where you are, but now I'm UP here in your FINGER WOOD!"

"You keep repeating words."

"I do, yeah! It m-..."

"You think I can't feel you fidgeting in here?" The dryad grinned. "Are you trying to take advantage of me? You didn't buy the coat. That shoulder patch reads F.O.O.D., and you carried a gun. I know what you are."

"You do...!? Are we that fam-...? Matter of fact, I..." he smirked gingerly. "was counting on you finding out!"

"So why is the coat so important?" she sounded annoyed.

"First of all, I should thank you. If you hadn't lifted me off the ground, I'd never have gotten that signal through the trees..."

"But you aren't signaling."

"I have a radio."

"A radio...? You're talking to someone?"

"Oh, you know what it does! Doesn't matter. My comrades have TRIANGULATED my radio's signal right now." he spat, though he couldn't be sure... "You have been pinpointed- with extreme precision."

"Radios don't do that. They only let you talk through its signals."

"Th-they can triangulate the signal! It gets weaker the farther you are, so once they can measure how it changes as they move, they can figure out where I am!"

"Unless... your equipment ceases to send a signal." she interrupted, clearly upset and grasping, but still rather upbeat.

"Then they'll just look for the last place where the signal was!"

Her features twisted. Even if she could mask them very well, he quickly saw through to her annoyance and worry.

"See? You're already getting it." he said, relaxing a bit.

"Alcoosen, I don't appreciate people trying to trick me." she slowly got through her tight lips.

"Neither do I, that's why I'm calling for backup."

"But you made one huge mistake."

Alcoosen's eyes narrowed. Just one? He could think of a thousand things to go wrong...

"You talk too much."

"So what!?" he put on his bravest face. "If you don't let me go, you'll burn!"

Bringing him closer to her face, she moved one finger up to his face. Putting it to his mouth, she raised his face to her eyes...

...and winked.

"No, I don't believe you." she winked, close to his body. Pulling it off, she held it away from him, and with unbelievable flexibility, she stretched forward, and threw it away with his radio still inside. Whispering, she had a wind come into being, and gently lift the jacket... into a tree two trees away.

Bending back to her original position, she looked back at him.

"Now that we got that awfully dirty jacket off you..."

"What are you planning!?"

"I'm not telling." she giggled, tearing off his shoes and pants. Guano was good, but it didn't go up there. "You really went crawling in guano!"

"I'll be fine." he said, paling. "I'm still dirty..."

"But now I'll have to eat you or you'll make noise." she said, sounding resigned.

"Look, if you just let me go...!"

"Sorry. No."

"I was just bluffing-!" he howled. He needed to buy time. Time for them to arrive. But if they arrived and checked the wrong tree, they'd be delivering themselves right into her hands. Unless they split up. There were six people left there... Wulf, that new kid who'd embarrassed everyone in the Forest of Whispers, the new kid who looked always clueless all the time, that fiery, bulky redhead who was driving, that was four. Two more of Wulf's goons were there-

His counting was put aside. He would've kept his dignity if he could struggle, if he had at least one thing he could do. All along, he thought he'd go down fighting. This, on the other hand, going down with a struggle after having never had the least chance... this wasn't how he would've wanted it. The contrast between the sheer sunlight and the darkness of her mouth blinded him to its contents for an instant; as he went into the darkness, he realized that he actually slid down and settled pretty quickly. Apparently, she didn't enjoy his flavor too much.

Had she disbelieved him when he said he had been just bluffing? Maybe not, he reasoned- maybe, as she said, she just didn't appreciate being tricked.

Breathing hard, he rose to his feet, through the aches over his body from the harsh drop, and walking to the side, he started screaming and banging. Yeah, he knew she'd enjoy it. A lot. Usually he'd do this for its own sake- struggling would make her less likely to eat everything in sight. Right now, though, he hoped she'd make a mistake- or rather, that someone on the outside would hear him.

Maybe they wouldn't be too late. Maybe it wasn't too soon.

======

He woke up quite quickly, looking around to see himself in a hole between the roots. There were some aches here and there in his body, but he was more concerned about the disappearance of a weight in his chest- his shell belt- and his companion. He had no time to spare. Getting up, he checked around, seeing the creeper vine hadn't gotten to him yet, though it had apparently ran out of spikes, and uphill, where Alcoosen had probably went. He muttered a curse and ran in that direction.

Making a stop, he blew his nose. The relief he got from it was actually worrisome for a moment- but as he did, the smells of the jungle returned to him. The stink of his coat had gotten a bit bad, as if it had gotten baked and dried by the sun- which probably happened to his face too. Well, that had to account for a few of the symptoms at least. Now if only he could find his companion...

...he caught a whiff of something that should've been on him. Blinking, he raised a hand to the sash of shotgun shells around his chest... frowning, he realized it was gone. Someone might've considered him a goner... then he realized, raising his gun, that he wasn't wielding a shotgun in the first place. Silly...

Raising his eyes, he saw something hanging oddly in the wind. A big man's coat. Much like his own. Probably what smelled like that. But what could've removed his coat, and why? Alcoosen couldn't have done that on his own, no way in hell. Someone took off his coat...

Turning around, he pointed the grenade launcher at the tree right beside him, wondering if it was the one that did this, dreading it may have been a fairy. The coat, on the other hand, suspended on its branch, peacefully rocked back and forth, making not a sound. It felt, for some reason, like the coat was looking at him with morbid fascination, barely able to hold its laughter, taunting him quietly with its soft, undulating movements. It might've been a fairy, but best not to think of that right now- the canopy became full of whispers at the thought, if it wasn't already, the paranoia turning the rustling and chirping of ever unseen birds into the unsettling whispers of one voice too many...

Without any tracks in the ground, he was left to believe it had either been someone that flew, or someone who had yet to leave. Someone who wasn't all that far, either, who had said tree within sight, and within comfortable range. He looked at the other trees... suddenly, they became the main culprits.

There was one in particular that was making him uncomfortable. It was way too close to another tree- he didn't know much about trees, but they weren't supposed to grow atop each other. Specially, not with their roots covering one another like that. The largest one should've been there first. Was it enough evidence of mobility?

His gut said yes.

His communicator suddenly sprang to life...

"Alcoosen! You there? Give me a signal, dammit!" were the first words that came out. He recognized Wulf's growling voice...

"Marcel here."

"Marcel? Well, it's better than nothing." Wulf spat. "What's Alcoosen's status?"

"Eaten." Marcel said, raising the launcher.

"Eaten!? Where are you?"

"Avenging him..." Marcel spat. Pulling the trigger, the grenade flew towards the massive trunk of the tree before him...

...and the tree suddenly jerked out of the way. The explosive landed a fair bit behind the tree, exploding in a small shower of burning fuel.

"What was that!?"

"Target confirmed, dryad." he smiled. "About to engage."

"No, you big ugly dumbass- retreat! Now!"

======

"How long ago did you eat Alcoosen?"

Seelvee took another look at the stranger. She thought there'd be more. In fact, she'd seen him speak through that communicator before. Had to be his straggling companion- he had a matching coat- why didn't he mention that he had a companion with a fire weapon? Narrowing her eyes, she took in his face. He was pale, veins visible through his face, droopy eyes, trembling legs. Pissed off as he may have looked, he had quite obviously seen better days.

"I know what you're thinking." she said. "But it's already too late..."

"Then you might as well throw him up, it won't make things worse."

"That's not possible either. I can't throw up, I'm a dryad."

The little man scowled a bit harder.

"I'm not an expert in dryads" he hissed "but for your sake, that better not be true."

"Wh-! Would anyone lie about this!?" she cried, offended. "If I could, it would be much easier than getting you to listen!"

He just shrugged.

"One way or another, we're leaving together."

"That isn't possible."

"That's not up to you, bitch."

She knew he had just lost a friend, and from the looks of it, it hadn't been the best day of his life, either; he'd obviously gone through a lot to get there. Most certainly, the man had a good story to tell, and she loved those as much as the next. Had he given her the opportunity, she could've sympathized with him. Unfortunately, his friend had called in visitors, and put her life in danger; while telling her his story would've been fun, and might have earned him a way out, surviving was her top priority, and if those two were any indication, the rest of them would prove just as unreasonable. More importantly, the fool had been making unreasonable demands, and taken that arrogant, violent tone while pointing the incendiary at her. However brave or resourceful he may have been, she simply couldn't let him do that.

Looking at the deadly weapon, she was struck by a sudden idea. Now that she'd seen the weapon in action, she could counter it. Assuming his mates didn't get there too quickly. In fact, she had to take him out as fast as she could. And if she'd gotten his measure well, this lad wouldn't resist talking- and eventually blowing a gasket.

"This is Felarya, where the big eat the small. This was his fate."

"You're earning a fate yourself."

"How can you justify coming here with that weapon? I've never done anything to you!"

"I know you would, stupid." The man sneered. She held back a wince of joy- he was starting to crack. "If it weren't for this weapon, you'd eat me."

"That's not true. You've come this far, I'd have been interested in talking to you. But not anymore." she just had to keep him talking. "You make everything so needlessly violent..."

"And being eaten isn't violent!? Who do you take me for, you whore!?"

Down to insults already? Either it didn't take much to upset this guy, or he was extremely arrogant.

"Eating is simply part of the natural order." she insisted. "There was nothing wrong about what I did. You are nothing but a murderer."

"Oh don't feed me that garbage-" he snarled, shaking- he'd finally blown a gasket. "after losing track of how many you've killed-!"

"Eaten."

"-you find the gall to call me a murderer! How, exactly, do you preds come across this crap? Did you try to feed it to Alcoosen too before you ATE him?"

"It's a simple truth that eating is part of the natural order. If you haven't accepted that, why are you here? Why have you not left this world? Why have you let your friend stay in it, if his death would upset you so?"

"Because there's something for us to accomplish here!"

"And have you accomplished it?"

"Save it, you animal." he scoffed, slowly. "We're done talking."

Tilting her head, she decided to finish it. She hadn't just had enough of his self-righteous drivel, and could feel the vibrations of a land craft approaching fast. She was running out of time- he better be rattled enough.

"Do you really think that weapon kept me from eating you?"

"Eh?"

"You were wrong." she lurched for him. He didn't hesitate. A grapefruit-sized object flew out of the cannon, aimed too low to be at her face. He had decided, even though her midsection could dodge, her roots couldn't.

And wrong he was.

With a mighty push of both her hands, the wind around them suddenly broke into a gale. The rough projectile flew sideward away from her, hitting the ground and bursting in wild, glowing fire. Leaning away from it, she swung her hand once more, this time sending a vibration through her roots, into the ground, sending the dirt around the man crumbling, leaving him to trip on a root, into a pool of mud, as he finally said something smart for a change.

"DAMMIT!" he coughed. Frightened, she stood straight up- the vibrations were too close. If she was going to camouflage herself, it was now or never...

The deafening explosion of gunpowder told her it was never.

Turning to her right, she saw a vehicle- several wheels- opening fire on her. They were keeping a generous distance, however, and not every bang corresponded itself with a sting. In fact, some of those didn't hurt at all. Covering her eyes for a minute, she tried to swing a current strong enough to tip over the vehicle...

...but just as it came, it left.

Turning to the man they had left behind, she was flabbergasted to see that he was being carried away by a larger man.

"DON'T YOU-!" she cried, swinging a powerful gale-force wind towards his ankles. Interestingly, the man jumped behind a tree- and out of the same tree, another four-wheeled vehicle quickly zipped out of range, like it had never existed in the first place.

======

They left her behind, pondering for a moment what had just happened. For a moment, she thought about them trying to attack her again- the spot was still marked, after all. but it didn't seem likely. They just hopped in, took the man they had left behind, and escaped... it didn't feel fair to her that he survived. Not after that stunt with the weapon. Not after trying to save a man who had tried to trick her. Not after threatening to kill her. Not someone so arrogant and violent. Not after all he said.

She'd have been pleased to talk, but he had went a long way towards pushing that out of the question. Both had. Even more grating was the thought that they might actually have managed to burn her. Even if they were, clearly, not just insects, the thought that all he needed to burn her was a device kept nagging at her. It was a common presumption held about humans that there was nothing they weren't willing to destroy, but it was one thing to quietly comment on it, and another to see proof of the fact.

When they put that kind of garbage together, clever as it may have been, it was impossible to feel for their losses. They deserved it. They didn't belong enough to accept their fate, and yet here they remained, and to do... to do what, exactly? They didn't even have a straight answer for that. But that didn't keep them from insulting and threatening. It was not fair that they ever got away.

For what it was worth, she reminded herself she had a locator to remove, a place to leave- and when she put her roots back down, an injustice to get off her chest.

======

The dirt itched on his hide. The remainders of the moist goo that had once clung to his body, elastic as it seemed in its time, had now tightened, hardened, and itched. His thick clothes had taken the brunt of the sunburn, and now they lay a heap inside a bag, but even if it was only his neck, waist, and part of his scalp, the rash was insufferable; the world just wouldn't stop shaking all around him. It was like their driver, that dog-eared asswipe, now couldn't help but drive over every rock that there ever was.

But the physical component of the discomfort was only the tip of the iceberg. He'd have rubbed vomit on himself if that would have been everything. Instead of that, he had to look at the inu's neck... and part of his cheek- was that freak actually smiling?

Taking his eyes off the road, Wulf looked to his right, broad eyes wandering off towards the trees. And unequivocally, there was a smile- a vaguely pleased smile in his mouth. His odd eyes, hidden behind these thick, black glasses, now visible only from the side, wandered mischievously towards Marcel for a moment. Marcel returned a stare.

To his chagrin, Wulf's eyes were locked on him. He mouthed something he didn't quite catch...

"What?"

"I asked why are you---." Wulf didn't complete the sentence, throwing instead a lopsided smirk.

"What!?"

"-- looking me" he added, with the same gesture.

"WHAT!?"

"I eat deaf people, I say! Why are you looking at me!?"

"How are you driving?"

"I'm using the rear view mirror."

"The rear view mirror is ahead."

"I had one added in the back just in case I engage in a staring contest with the passengers while driving." Wulf mouthed. "And you're in the way, move off!"

"What's your problem anyway!?"

"I don't quite get what you mean!"

"Why did you let her get away with that? I could've killed her! We could've killed them bo-!"

"What's in it for me!?"

"Avenging our men! Making this world a little safer, a little better! Not letting these monsters get away with this! Denying them a victory!" he added, raising his fist, leaning in- Wulf wouldn't back off. He wanted to see how would the inu react-

-Wulf avoided his face, suddenly grinning. What's worse, he chuckled. He mother-effin' chuckled.

"Man, are you full of it! Where do they keep coming up with you folk?"

"The hell?"

"No problem. You're human, I guess." Wulf spat. "Bullshit, Mars. Get over it."

"What did you say!"

Before he knew what had he done, Marcel had reached forward for Wulf's shoulder-

-and something tossed him back into his seat, the vehicle lurching sideward, swinging him against the door. He managed not to smack his head, but the sudden braking disoriented him somewhat. He caught a glimpse of Wulf's face, his raised eyebrows, his tight lips, the displeasure in his eyes as he opened his door and clambered out of the car, walking around the front...

Well, if that was how he wanted to play it.

Marcel opened the door, walking to the side, giving himself some room away from the car...

"No running away now you rotter!" the hybrid spoke, running at him. He swung an arm in, keeping it close to his chest-

That was a relief. No one could effectively attack from a stance like that. Wulf was an idiot, he knew that now. He raised his fists, prepared for the backhanded slap- a backhanded slap. Heh. Nice try. And that aim- he'd barely even brush his arm.

A second later, he realized that he had underestimated Wulf. Yes, it was a backhanded slap, and it'd barely brush his arm, but he hadn't ever been barely brushed in the arm by a 300 pound muscle monster's backhand slap before. For a moment, he didn't know what had happened, and the next moment, he found himself staggering ten feet away, his forearm aching. He let out a gasp...

"WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY MOTHER?!"

"You...!"

An instant later, the devilish mercenary was again lunging for him. Now he could see his crazed face full-on screaming for his blood, and he didn't hesitate. He was unarmed, and pissed off.

He ducked under the taller man's outstretched arms -how pathetic. No technique whatsoever- and drove a punch into his belly-

Those same outstretched arms had quickly grabbed his legs and swung him upside down. Without giving him the chance to punch anything, two knees tightened around his midsection, and with a sudden jump, he felt their combined weight fall on his head.

The pain upon contact was only matched by the pain in his nape- he feared for a moment that Wulf had finally given in and killed him, or worse, crippled him. He groaned angrily as his back and neck suddenly felt like they had exploded. This was extremely humiliating- not only had he been unable to hit Wulf at all, he had been completely dominated by the hulking inu.

Suddenly rolled on his side, he felt someone's bony buttocks drop on his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs- and then someone grabbed his leg, and lifted it. Without time to even realize anything, he felt the tendons tighten against their will, piercing pain on the back of his knee. He tried to scream, but there was no air left in his lungs, and it was hard enough to breathe. No, impossible- he couldn't breathe. His neck was miserable, his leg (left or right didn't matter anymore) was near snapping, and...

...he found himself tossed up like a ragdoll, swung into a tree, where he managed to gasp in just as he was released- being cut off as the inu's fist rammed into his belly, cornered as he was against the tree. He only managed to gurgle out-

There was no more to feel, there was only pain now. Pain and impending doom. He felt hands envelop his own, clenching his fingers-

"STOP HITTING YOURSELF!" -in unison with an explosion of pain on his face. His nose cracked, his eye burnt, his jaws... "STOP HITTING YOURSELF!" his cheek, his chin, his face...

he let go of one hand. With his other hand, he leveraged him into another tree- holding him by one finger. And then he twisted- when he let go, the finger felt like it had been torn off. Hitting the ground, everything got wiped from his mind in one fateful instant. Now there was only a face to tear off- and a rock by his hands, which he quickly gripped.

Grabbing the foot lunging for his feet with numbed manipulators, he swung it out of the way, and letting out a howl of his own, Marcel swung for the man's face...

"Well done!"

Somehow, he found himself kicked in the back, bending over his aggressor's knee, swung around, grabbed by hands and feet, and then thrown right into the ground.

"But too late, Marcel."

With a final whine, the FOOD operative's vision blacked out.

"Too fucking late."

======

"I'm not taking word for it. I want to be sure myself you delivered everything."

"Alright, take your time." Wulf's voice replied, mockingly.

"Can never trust you shady types. I know all of overcharging and undercutting. I come too far to be had by your sneaky tricks." another man. This one had a strange accent- not like Wulf's voice, without any accent. This man had a very defined, very strong accent- he had to be an offworlder. An offworlder of at least fifty years, if his ears didn't fool him... ugh, now he realized his ears hurt...

"In the meantime, you make sorry sight comfortable. He run over by wild animal?"

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Actually, I agree with Mr. Tarasov..." that youthful hesitation- Nadimon?

"You shut up. We stay here 'till he agrees to the deal."

"Taking your own men hostage, now? That is lowest of the low."

"Don't be such a drama queen. My men, my rules. He got himself clobbered, he smokes it."

"It won't be just a little longer. It'll take me hours to go over supplies and be certain it is all we agreed."

"Those are several tons of supplies, it'll take you a week to unpack everything. Just sign this receipt..."

"I am not signing any receipts until I sure you deliver all I agreed for."

Opening his swollen eyes, Marcel managed to catch sight of... wood. Brown wood. The ceiling... a ceiling. They had made it to the safe spot.

"Geez, whatever. Knock yourself out, pruney, I'll be right here..."

The sound of bags being ruffled stirred Marcel's attention. He tried to move his neck, but the pain was too much- he let out a gasp instead, inadvertently.

"Did Mars get up?"

"I think he's awake... But... I don't think he'll be getting up anytime soon either way."

"Nevermind then."

"You should really take man to room..."

"Nah, the dirt will do him good."

Marcel heard a large tin can be put on the ground. The vibration on his nape suggested he was lying on a hard surface, but one that wasn't made of a single solid piece. Dirt, it was dirt.

"That's one can of dehydrated milk. I think you can start ticking that one off..."

"Don't get smart with me, big man. I haven't even started counting yet!"

"Well you better start counting right away- and no funny business!"

Turning his eyes to the two people arguing, somehow, Marcel caught a glimpse of Tarasov and Wulf staring at each other. Then Tarasov just smiled and went on about the cargo on the backs of the trucks. This had to be some sort of stable- though there weren't any horses at the time.

"Two, four, six..."

"Ah, ah, ah! You're counting wrong, already trying to cheat me? In my face!?"

"I am counting in pairs. It is twice as fast."

"... oh. Nevermind then."

Some metallic sounds. He couldn't look that close to the ground- but he could recognize that squeaking sound. Tarasov had just readied some sort of wheeled carrier. Patiently, he laid more and more tins in the carrier.

"I go store those, then be back for more."

"You do that. Hey, Nads! Follow the old guy! Be sure he doesn't drop anything and then blame us for not bringing it!"

"If you're going to accompany me, you could load another carrier."

"No way, that's his job!"

"However..." another voice. "He's carrying at most 50 pounds of imperishables in that carrier. At eight light tons of cargo, it's going to take 320 trips for him to store it all. Maybe we should help."

"Don't help him, Sarcos. That's an order. I want this signed quickly, we risked it all coming here. Pruney wants to play hard to get? I am player too!" he mimicked the old man's accent.

He heard the old man sigh.

"Rimhail, grab a carrier, and help me."

The woman had been quiet so far.

"Coming right away, boss!" she added, in a sickeningly sweet tone. There was something strange in her voice. Something that took him back.

"Who's she? I thought you lived here alone, Pruney."

"I'm Rimhail- a child of the Birds..."

"Time is money. Chit-chat not money. You can talk later."

-...child of the Birds...-

"A straggler-? Pruney, I wasn't told you were a slave driver!" Wulf protested in mock indignation. "How large is this slaver ring!?"

Quietly, Tarasov left his field of view, leaving Marcel to look at the woman. She had long, curly black hair... not very tall, somewhat chubby, he thought- and he still wasn't conscious enough to think of her clothes. A child of the birds...?

"How many people have you cheated into working here!? You, you two guys go check on them. Go look for his slaves! Watch out, if you aren't loud or obnoxious enough the pruney men will enslave you! And eat your brains!"

A few sets of steps, and a creaking of squeaky wheels announced their parting, probably going off to store the goods. Without arguing, the two FOOD operatives walked out, following the mindless instructions of their (not-yet-mindless) leader. They'd need a lot more trips, though...

-That accent...-

"Geez, we brought enough stuff to supply a small country here. So, now that we're alone, you awake, Marcel?"

"Hngh."

"I'll take that as a no, so I'll just keep talking. You see, Marcel, when we fought... remember when you finally tried to hit me again? Remember your throat? Remember that howl you let out?"

"Fffyy."

"That howl might not have meant a lot to you, Marcel. But it's very important. I completely pulverized you... and that could've been a mistake. Wasn't going to kill you in front of your friends, but just so you know, when you hear that howl, it's a challenge. A gamble. The wager is a life, for a life. You ignored the howl with the tonorion, remember? I told you not to do anything more. But you just had to let it know you were out for blood. It wasn't going to just let you just take it."

"Rrr."

"Nobody's going to be a sportive, good loser if it kills them. You see, the dryad, she wasn't after you because we are at war. They hunt you for food. If yer beneath notice, Mars, they can choose to buzz off: plenty of bugs in the grass, no reason to go after you. But if you aren't, if you're dangerous, and you won't let them go, they get scared. You think this is a good thing?" Wulf turned to rummage around the supplies, making himself a sandwich. "It's not."

"..."

"When they fear you, they aren't out for your taste. They're out for blood, same as you. If you can hurt them, you can push them all you want, raise the ante 'till their blood's on the table if that's what you want. But eventually, when your wager is set and all bets are off, it's going to be time to answer for your side of the bet. And then it'll fight you in a way you didn't know it could fight back. Maybe even IT didn't know."

Swallowing hard, the inu wiped his mouth with his arm. Then he stared into his eyes, with tight lips and furrowed brows. Letting out a sigh through his nose, he continued through his teeth.

"And do you have ANY idea what are you gambling? You gamble your blood, you gamble MINE, for a chance to drown your sorrows in theirs." he took another bite off his sandwich. "You become a threat. Make no mistake, I WILL end that threat."

He punctuated the sentence with a gulp.

What was that about the Royal Guard?" Marcel stirred. "What did it take to join, just being a sort of ornery sissy blowhard? Your boss told me you were loyal. I'm not seeing any of that. Hardly seeing you anywhere near discipline, you know? What did they teach you there?"

"I... dun'f time..." he mumbled, sitting up.

"Why, got any books to catch up on? Last I checked you were illiterate."

Clenching his fists, the F.O.O.D. operative sat up, and straightened his back.

"Sh... 'nuff."

"I gotta be sure the message got through." Wulf grunted. "Otherwise you're still a threat."

"GOT IT!" Marcel snarled. "He's gone, I'd... ssst'pid, OK!?"

"Not yet, you're forgetting the most important part!"

"And what is that!?"

"The howl! And it means, do NOT corner anything EVER!" Wulf snarled. "Every hunter out there knows this. My little cousins know this. And now, so do you. Kill quickly, or don't kill."

Shaking his head, Marcel let out another sigh.

"A't woman-"

"AHAHA!"

"Eh?"

"You sly horndog, you! Your friend's been dead for an hour, you’ve been clobbered for half, but a chick comes along and you gotta try to get into her pants? Here's a hint, Marcel, from one man to another... being so insensitive, you will fail."

"Thu'sh not it!" Marcel mumbled between his teeth.

"And she hasn't got a fetish for knuckle sandwich eaters, I didn't see her checking you out lustfully."

"Look..."

"And your pickup lines? Shit! Remember that broad in the restaurant? YOUR LOOKALIKE OWE ME BLOOD, BITCH. Then you up and go for her, creep."

"Uh'm n'trying- Wulf, PEASE quit m'king lwight of eff'thing I do- for now?"

"What, you slack-jawed psycho rapist?"

"She... Rhimhal-"

"Me?"

Turning around slowly, he saw that he was in some kind of barn, or stable- a few horses, which explained the smell- but highlighted the amount of room the cars were taking up. At the entrance, he saw a tall, burly, somewhat wizened man, probably Mr. Tarasov, and a woman, short, a bit squat, and somewhat thick, with a... golden skin tone, maybe, blue eyes, and black hair. Blinking a bit at the sight of her, he realized Wulf had really gone to town with him... his face was stiff when not screaming at the hulking inu in the throes of rage.

"H'd you shay'd yehr nayme wash Reemhail?"

"Oh, you're awake." she said. "Welcome to Murmur Inn."

"Ch... aldff b'rdz..."

"I... can't understand a word you say."

"I think I beat him a bit too hard..."

"We d'n have time f-f"

"Or maybe I didn't beat him hard enough. I'll beat him harder and see if he gets better."

"You did that? What happened to you?" she turned to Marcel.

"Rimhail, that something mercenaries do." Tarasov explained. "Leave men alone. You have duties."

"I... Mr. Tarasov, I find his accent strangely familiar..."

"His accent none of our business, no time for chit-chat. Many more trips for us to make. Unless he register as guest."

"Oh no you don't, you tricky fella. Back to the dirt with you, Mars..."

"Auhh-" Marcel shook his head- that was the last straw. Immediately, Wulf spat... something into his eye, suddenly hammering his feet on the way to his face.

"Let's put this so you get it." Wulf spat. "Private! Hit the deck, NOW!"

Codename Hydra

ASSIGNMENT 6: Breather

Credits to French_Snack for the Felaryum.
Credits to Ravaging_Vixens for Jacked.
Credits to JiroKatsu for Jerid.
Grigor [who speaks Russkij] still belongs to Feadraug.

Now that he knew himself to be a man on a mission, the silence on the way back seemed almost meaningless. The sidewards glances he caught while riding, and the reigning awkwardness were dulled out as much as what was left of his joints. Rimhail had agreed to come with him, not to the inn owner's delight. But every time she tried to talk to him, Wulf would shortly after short the conversation out, with a little song or a witty quip. Marcel got the message- the man did not respect him, not anymore at least. Trying to look to his comrades for support had not worked- it was indignating, insulting, but it would do. For the time being they were in the wild, and he knew better than to stir up trouble there.

Apparently, that white-haired man-boy knew that now too. Was his name Nadimon? Yeah, that was it. Ironically, he found it rather offensive that the jinx had managed to keep his trap shut all the way back. Wasn't it death that got to the youngster's nerves? He could really go for smacking a bitch right now.

Then again, he needed a lot of healing before he could smack anyone.

"Marcel?"

He turned to look at Rimhail.

"I hear you." he grumbled.

"This city, Negav... what is it like, again?"

"Walled. Huge... nice." He hesitated to mention crime rate. Hardly like him to think she'd be unsafe there.

"I mean, what language..." He felt a bit proud, she'd noticed already.

"It'll be alright."

"Yes, but I'm curious, what language are you speaking? You're not really speaking Plumil, are you? That'd be too much coincidence. That man spoke Russkij, but that's just what he told me..."

Plumil. Well, he should've known.

"I speak Canson."

"Cans-?"

"I don't bite." he smiled. "It's been a long time ago. Doesn't matter anymore."

She avoided his gaze for a minute.

"I couldn't help but notice, you've fought in the war."

"What? No, I've never fought in any wars. Last one ended before I was b--"

Rimhail raised her eyebrows.

"That can't be. You're a soldier, aren't you? I can tell that much."

"Really?"

"But... I was, how long was...?" she pursed her lips. "No, you must be centuries old!"

"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!" Wulf snarled. "Do I have to be on top of you all the time? I can do that, bitch, I could use a new skin for my seat!"

"Hey!" Rimhail protested.

"I meant him! See now why I don't like talking to newbies? NOW she's got questions!"

Taking in a deep breath, Marcel grimaced.

"I'll wait until we're at the city. I promise you, I'll explain everything."

"You do that." Wulf grinned. "Now shut up."

Holding in another grimace, Marcel tried to distract himself somehow, pass the time. But there was nothing to do other than angst, again. He wished he had something to occupy himself with; it'd keep him from dreading the moment he'd have to tell Locust that Alcoosen was dead, the moment he'd have to confront his companions about Wulf's discipline, that he'd have to answer for his outburst, the moment he'd have to explain to Rimhail that -he realized now- she would never see her family again... and whatever virtues Felarya had might count for less than nothing as consolation.

Times like those made him ponder things like what the dryad had said. What kept him here, for real? Why hadn't he just walked out? What was the point of resupplying a remote spot that people would die on the way to, in order to accomplish nothing? Why not let the spot wither away, and then let the world know Felarya was not a place to go to? Alcoosen wouldn't have died that way. At least, he wouldn't have had to die that way...

No, that wasn't right.

Rimhail was alive. She was alive thanks to Murmur Inn. He had found her thanks to Murmur Inn. He himself was alive thanks to Negav. He had found Negav thanks to Locust's sign.

There was no telling what would've happened without those things- well, there was. He'd be dead. He'd have died alone, swallowed and thoroughly enjoyed by any of the giant monsters out there. Rimhail would've been devoured, too, if it wasn't for that inn. Unfortunate as it might seem, if it weren't by people like Alcoosen, they'd be dead. If it weren't by people like... Tarasov, whatever Wulf might want to think. If it weren't by people like him, he thought, hoping to find some consolation there.

There wasn't any.

======

The glistening walls and the broad, open sky were usually a sight for sore eyes, but this morning, he was rather dreading them. He didn't know what he'd tell Locust once they met. How would he explain Alcoosen had died with him as the only person close by. Who would he blame it on. What could he have done differently. What the man would say. What words would he use.

Alcoosen had been eaten by a dryad? A dryad had eaten Alcoosen? Wulf had rescued him? Wulf had failed to rescue Alcoosen? Had he fallen into the tonorion's burrow? Had Wulf's strategy for predator avoidance gotten him thrown into a burrow? How would he word himself? How would the boss take it?

He meekly walked out of the jeep, stretching those limbs that would still stretch. The bandages felt tight around his body in those stances- a sign not to overdo it.

"Alright..." the inu barked, picking something out of the glove box, and going out to the other car to hand it to the guy on the passenger seat. "Here's the papers. Sakon, you go to the guild and get pruney's siggy cashed in nice and good. Tell 'em to add it to the HYDRA account, and if they ask why am I not doing it myself, I got eaten. Tell 'em to give FOOD proper credit too, as they's kept our ops out of danger."

"Got it." Some things were looking up...

"Make sure you include Mars' antics on the review, loud and clear. Oh, and the Romoi Alcoosen that got eaten." Wulf pointed at him while saying that.

"Of course."

There was no question now: he hated Sakon, with a passion. For the time being, though, he had to explain something to Rimhail. He looked at the short, thick woman...

"This is Negav city." he pointed at the wall. "Largest city you'll see anywhere in Felarya. We'll be through the gates shortly, don't panic. I'll walk you through it..."

"MARS!"

Breathing out through his nose, Marcel reminded himself that they had an agreement with the hulking demihuman. He could bark all he wanted now. They were at the gates, and...

...why was Rimhail so quiet?

"MARS, I'M TALKING TO YOU!" a voice barked in his ear, while a massive hand clung around his shoulder. "Did I hit your ears? I think I didn't, maybe if I hit them you'll...!"

"I'm here!" he said, turning around. "We had an agreement..."

"Now we don't. You still owe me BLOOD, chump. There'll be time for your new girlfriend later, right now, there's something we gotta do."

"Before we do anything else, I have to see Locust..."

"You don't have to do anything other than listen to me. I'll send those three to see Locust." he grinned. "Nadimon, Sarcos!"

"And the third?"

"One, three, I see three. W'ever."

"I just-! I just dragged her all the way here..."

"And now you stand her up. Because I say so."

"No."

Wulf narrowed his eyes.

"Excuse me? I think Did I just hear you say 'No'? I hope your answer is 'No'."

"Out there it's just you and me. But we're back in the city now. And lawless as it is, this is the gates. There's enough people with guns to keep anyone at bay."

"You think they'll help you? Break off a fight? They know we're mercs! We're animals to them!"

"Counting on it. If that fails..." Marcel narrowed his eyes.

"If that fails, what?"

"I had no idea you were that fast, at first. But if you lay another finger on me, I'll show you what it took to get into the Royal Guard."

"Oooh..." Wulf raised his palms. "How do you figure! Watch out, we got a chip on the shoulder!"

"Child." Marcel scoffed. He had bigger things in mind right now- nothing Wulf said would get to him. "Rimhail, we should go. I'll find a place to sit and..."

"Rimhail, you should not go!" Wulf roared. "If you do, I'm coming with you!"

"You've got paperwork to do." Mars cried, grabbing Rimhail's arm.

"I passed it along to Sakon. I'm free to annoy people all afternoon!"

"Ignore him. I'll explain..." he said, quickening the pace...

"I can explain too!" Wulf cried. "It's like the pruney guy at the inn prolly told ya! This place is full of man-eating monsters, but you don't grow any older while you're here! Nobody gets sick, ever! I don't know what that means, but meh! Also, if you don't know where this place is, there's no way to go back home! Ever! But you can talk to anyone, anyway!"

"Is he telling the truth?" she slowed down.

"Just ignore him!" he spat. "Follow me, ignore him!"

"OFFICER THAT'S NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY!" Wulf screeched at the top of his lungs.

"Wait..." Rimhail began.

"There's nothing to wait about! He's not going to stop me. Don't let him stop you."

"No, wait! Stop!"

"Just ignore him-!"

"I said stop!" she repeated.

Upset as he may have been, he could only ignore the whole reason why he was doing this for so long. Rimhail had told him to stop- that was enough for him to stop.

"He didn't tell you everything." Marcel pursed his lips.

"Mr. Tarasov told me all, and that hulking... man just confirmed it."

"No, there's more!"

"There's no need for you to explain anything else to me. I've got enough-" she struggled.

"You don't have to act brave-"

"Let go of me!" she cried, clenching her fists.

His hand jerked open. Damn. She wouldn't listen now.

"Why are you listening to that freak!?"

"I'm not upset because of him!"

His boiling blood was not put at ease with those words. Far from it. Now she tried to blame him!? What had he EVER done to her!?

"Back off!" she turned around.

"Wait!" he spat. "There's something they didn't tell you!"

"I know they've told me all of it."

"No, there's something they don't know!"

"Something I don't know?" Wulf interjected.

"Something they don't know?" Rimhail raised her eyebrow, skeptical.

"Yes! Just come with me and..."

"I think you're lying."

"Don't do this!" he grimaced, raising his hands at her. She stepped back.

"What is it I don't know, Mars?"

Turning around, he saw Wulf already nearly on top of him. He would've gotten the first hit on him, if he wanted to.

"Arrg... fine."

"So what is it I don't know about Felarya, Marcel? This should be good." Wulf smiled.

"This is for her ears only."

"Please! Like I care. Just tell her."

Pursing his lips, he turned to her ear, trying not to ruin the whispering by sounding too angry. Her frightened eyeballs were honing on him all the way; he was careful not to make any sudden moves. Through those pursed lips, he could tell she was not pleased with him anymore. And that was... pissing him off.

"Locust is a fellow Eufractan." he whispered, leaning back quickly.

"Glucose marshmallow rat's ass? Is that what you want for dinner?" Wulf barked.

"What did you mean by that?" she asked. He scoffed and turned around.

"Let's go, Wulf."

"Huh?"

"The big secret's out. Let's get outta here. What did you need?"

"What about her?" Wulf smirked.

"Yeah, what about her?"

"You're just going to leave her alone in a huge city after you dragged her all the way here?"

"Nadimon!" Marcel barked.

"Huh?" This had to be a first. Him, talking to that... inept... piece of... bleached... well, it was desperate times. He had to face it, he had no idea of what he was doing when he took her to Negav... why did she even agree?

"Would you show her to our offices?"

"Ah, if she's okay with it, I've got no problem." Nadimon replied. Marcel shrugged- he didn't really care what his face showed right now. He needed something else now- something like being close to the man he wanted to punch the most in the world. He had differences to work out. And the fists to do it with.

And the rib pain to remind him what would happen if he didn't do it right.

======

"What did I just get myself into..."

"Err... Nadimon, right?"

"Rimhail, yes?"

"That's right."

He let himself look at her for a moment. She wasn't very tall- seemed rather squat. Robust, at least. What was the story between her and Marcel, he asked himself. She'd hopped off that inn to get to the city, despite the smells, the people, the noise. Maybe she was from a city herself...

"What do you know about Marcel?"

"Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing. I don't know. He was kind of the second in command for this organization, but at some point, he fell, pretty hard. He's still close with our leader... I don't particularly like him, must've been when he punched me."

"He punched you?"

"I was making a ruckus. Out in the jungle... long story short, we were under attack. A giant monster. It hit us, and run, and it hit us hard every time. I panicked, and he punched me. I didn't like that, it's not thanks to him we survived."

"..."

"He's a stuck-up, tall ape with a short temper. But he's friends with the boss, and with just about everyone, so he gets away with a lot of shit. Not anymore, it seems."

"What do you mean?"

"Wulf knows to smack a bitch. I like that."

"Anything else?"

"Not really. What else's there to know? What do you know, anyway? Why'd you hop off the inn, anyway?"

Rimhail pursed her lips.

"Well, it's actually complicated."

"Was he your boyfriend?"

"No! Nothing like that."

"Did you know him?"

"No, not at all."

"There's got to be something you're not telling me." Nadimon smirked.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you left that inn. It seemed like a pretty nice place, compared to this city."

"That inn... I was leaving it anyway. He... Marcel seemed like a good choice- we're both from the same world."

"So he was an offworlder? I didn't know that. What was it like there?"

"Eufracta, well, there were all sorts of people and places there."

"Elves?"

"No, we were all, err... humans, I guess." she shrugged. "I mean, there weren't any nekos, or elves... inus either, but I'm from Birdland, and he's from Cansadena."

"What are those?"

"Different countries."

"Ahhh..." Nadimon grinned. "Those don't last long around here."

"Or so I've heard. There's only this city, right?"

"That's just about right. There's more humanity inside this city than outside. Elves and nekos don't have as much trouble, though."

"Ah, is... is it really as dangerous as they say?"

"More." he shook his head. "Wasn't long ago that half our team was eaten."

"You lived through it?"

"Yes! She was huge, blonde..." he put his hands behind his back, then over his chest. "and curvy, with baby blue eyes, but she was... so big. I've lived behind those walls my entire life... that kind of big, nothing should be that big."

"Could you please be any clearer?"

"Not really. She was mind-bogglingly huge, and freakishly fast. You see those buildings?" she followed his finger to a low row of squat, wooden buildings.

"That big? That's huge..."

"No! Not those buildings. Those." Raising his finger, he pointed over their roofs, to even larger buildings that silhouetted themselves in the distance. She couldn't get an accurate estimate of their size, but if the rows of windows were any indication, they had anywhere from four to seven stories. "She was larger than them, and darted around like a- like a wasp!" he shook his head. "I don't know. I had never seen anything move that fast."

"But, it's impossible for anything to be that big..." she replied, blankly.

"Haven't you seen any of the large animals out in the jungles yet? There ARE things that big. And she easily dwarfed them all. I don't know where all you newcomers get that attitude. 'I know what's possible. This is all new to me, but YOU must've made a mistake.' Why don't you tell me what's out there while you're at it?" he smirked, glaring at her.

She winced.

"Back in my homeworld, actually, there was this claw..."

He smiled, interested.

"There was an ancient, unique stone, much like a claw bone, easily as long as my arm- I don't know, I never saw it myself." she looked away. "The matter is, it did hint to the existence of a creature far larger than any that inhabited our known world, but let's drop the subject."

"Well, I'll just show you later. Then you can tell me what really happened. Who really ate everyone. What I really saw."

Knowing the conversation with him would've been awkward to follow, she decided to change the subject.

"Well, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't be. I wasn't friends with them or anything."

"And you are...?" she turned to their other companion.

"Private Sarcos Ruuscasta." he replied, blankly, with those huge eyes of his'. "Third Southern Pelliste."

He was silver, or rather, gray-eyed. These irises had a strange color, like pig iron. And his features seemed a bit too young- even Nadimon, despite his youthful appeareance, had a ruggedness to him. This one was just kiddish.

"Aren't you a bit young?"

"I don't understand the question."

"I mean... what's the third southern Pelliste?" She could guess it was some kind of regiment, but needed to be sure.

"The third of the Southern Pellistes."

"But what are the Southern Pellistes?" she giggled.

"The Pellistes on the southern border."

"And what are Pellistes?"

"The Pellistes are brigades composed of up to 500 able-bodied men and women, fulfilling border control functions. Our responsibility is to maintain security of the Vert perimeter and allow for the control of the inside of the frontier, which in itself involves disuassion, first response and early warning functions." he replied, blankly.

"But how old are you anyway?"

"That is classified information."

"I mean, how old were you when you were trained for the Pelliste...?"

"No training is involved in joining the Pelliste." Sarcos replied.

"What?"

That time it had been Nadimon, not Rimhail, who had been shocked.

"Man, you shoot straighter than me and I used to be the best."

"That's correct."

"And you didn't get any training to join the Pelliste?"

"That's correct."

"What, you used to hunt, did you shoot for fun?"

"Neither."

"Then how many times have you shot? I mean, I must've wasted like ten thousand bullets, times ten, to shoot like I do."

"Twenty-seven, including the requested demonstration and the assignments afterwards; thirty-nine, if you count accidental discharges."

"And how do you practice?"

"No practice was ever involved in the Pelliste."

"You guys are born that good?"

"No."

"Then why do you shoot that well?"

Sarcos pointed at his own nape. Rimhail finally got her attention drawn to the scorpion-like, silver device apparently fused with his neck.

"By installing a mathematical coprocessor directly interfacing with the cerebellum, all the motor skills involved in the Pelliste's functions are indoctrinated in an expedite manner on the recruit."

"What does that even mean?"

Sarcos paused for a moment.

"I shoot well because... computers."

"Ah." Nadimon shrugged.

"What's a computer?"

"A computer is an electronic device for storing and processing data, typically in binary form, according to instructions given to it in a variable program."

"...so, a machine for complicated stuff." Nadimon simplified.

"Obviously!" she giggled.

"We're there..."

She took a minute to see the building they had been going towards. The "Headquarters", as Marcel had called them. The place seemed absolutely unremarkable; if she had to guess, this wooden structure had once been a business-dwelling, with the dwelling on the top floor.

Nadimon turned the doorknob. To his surprise, the door did not open. "Well, that's strange..." he rapped his knuckles on the door.

A long, awkward silence followed.

"What's the matter?"

"I thought Locust would be back by now..." he grimaced. "This is embarassing. I don't remember who had the other set of keys."

"We're locked out?"

"Pretty much, yeah..." he winced. "Lock's a piece of art, door's sturdy, and then there's the magic."

"Magic?"

"Locust enspelled the door. It's not going to open without the key, period."

"Wait, Locust? What's that?"

"Who. Our boss. Founder. Short noisy fatass... with some pretty hot magic."

"I thought Wulf was your boss."

"Nah, we're just working under him for the time being, he cut a deal with Locust. That camper found out the hard way magic wasn't enough to secure victory forever."

"What do you mean?"

"I just told you, when half the team got eaten."

"Ah..."

"Anyway, the merc commission found out his idea of leadership was so bad it could only go right if we had someone to show him how it's done." he smirked.

"Oh."

"And now we got Wulf. Was about damn time, I say."

"But what about the- wait, if you like him so little, why do you work for him?"

"I had no idea it was going to be like that at first..." he began. "I'm only staying because Wulf came along."

"Oh. I hope he learns, then."

Nadimon shrugged ambiguously.

"So what do we do now...?"

"You got any other questions?"

"I wanted to ask more about magic, but I thought better of it, and I'm going to stick with this question. What do we do now?"

"You got any other questions?"

She frowned, sighing out slowly. Red was starting to gather in her cheeks, as she looked down.

"I wonder what Marcel's doing..."

======

"I love this place..."

She wondered how she'd let herself get roped into this. This day really didn't suit this kind of activity- a 3-day drive, followed by that ape almost roughing her up once they hit the city, having to witness that exchange between those two psycho brutes, and a long walk through the worst district she'd ever had the misfortune of looking at. This place made her regret leaving the inn- though she didn't much care for that kind of work, she felt rather miserable now. Lost and alone with this self-absorbed, arrogant, insensitive white-haired pencilneck and his braindead companion with a metal scorpion stuck to his neck.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Then why do you look like I just fed you your favourite kitten?"

"Because I shouldn't be here!"

"What do you mean? How long have you been... out in the jungle?"

"I wasn't 'out in the jungle', I was working in an inn!"

"Yeah, but it's not the city-"

"I don't know anyone here. I should go to the O.A.D.D. already. Take me there." she insisted.

Nadimon shook his head.

"No."

"Take me-!"

"Desperate much?" he spat. "Look, you've been riding for three days, your ass may be a bit sore. But I'm not going to take your shit just for that. Everything was fine this morning, so what's wrong?"

"I-just-told-you!"

"No, hold your horses, lady. Don't go all desperate all of a sudden. Yeah, this place is ugly, but if you're going to stay..."

"And who says I'm going to stay?"

Nadimon raised his eyebrows.

"You speak... what?"

"What do you care?"

"I don't." he smirked. "But if you leave, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Can't be worse than here."

"Huh! Really?" Nadimon grinned. "Ma'am, it CAN be worse. Much worse. For starters, I don't know... do you have any useful skills? Well, you can't read, nor write, and if you left Felarya, you couldn't even speak."

"What?"

"It's kind of funny. Everyone understands each other around here, and according to my parents I speak Vishmitali, but they once took me out on a trip through the gate to meet some cousins. My extended family wouldn't shut up about my accent. I spoke half in Vishmitali, half in some archaic word salad, and all with this purrin' they couldn't quite place. Some of the neighbors found it kinda hot, though, I couldn't really get any more foreign! Sister Sa-matra, she thought I was quite the prize..." he chuckled, reminiscing about old mischief. "...she didn't mind sharing me with her cousin, Finam, the linguist- I think she said I was the clearest example of the ancient Sagolian vocabulary she ever heard- spanked her for making it up. Best trip ever..."

"And your point is?"

"My point is that at least I knew Vishmitali. You can only get a word through at all because we're here. If you're ever going to find a job, it's here. Why do you think that ape never left? I bet he can't even speak anywhere else."

"So I'm trapped here?"

"You're trapped outside. Choose your poison. If you think this place's too much, the OADD might help you, but it's going to take some sweet time. So don't be in such a rush, alright? You're going to need a new language, and an idea of what kind of world you'd prefer to work in. Even if you do, there's some things about here that you just can't get anywhere else, like..."

"I know. The timelessness, the health."

"Good, you know. That out of the way, I really would rather you weren't so desperate. Come on, take a look around you, give yourself a moment, smell the flowers we've got! Come on."

Taking his prismatics from under his vest, he handed them to her. She took a look around, trying to smell the flowers.

The first thing she did was not looking over the edge. While there was some railing, the sight below was way too rugged for a city. Wood, masonry, stone, concrete, cloth and metal seemed to be scrambled, not put together, in a messy, wavy pattern of... no, there was no method to it. Just smudges of blocks growing in all directions, criscrossed by small streets, dotted with corners and alleys, and separated by broader streets that they seemed to slowly try to seep into, one building at a time. Sometimes, a larger building or a particular block seemed to stand out from the rest, be it by their size or by their harmony, but most of it was a jumble of up to four stories tall. As she understood, she was right now atop a giant wall- not like the wall in the distance, past that sea of red, grey and brown, but a smaller one. Atop this wall, the land was paved with tightly-fitted stones, with well-kept greenery in square blocks. Trees and flowers- dwarfed, of course, and by FAR, by those she could still see over the far wall. However large that wall was, the trees were bigger- specially one that seemed to poke out of the sky, somewhere to the... east, if she wasn't mistaken. She couldn't see much more than its top, as the distance seemed to obscure the base.

The sight of that tree gave her an idea of how large the trees had been all along. They had been so large she couldn't see that tree when under them. Right behind them, lay a series of buildings that seemed to slowly rise in height, until all she could see were majestic purple spires peeking from behind the highest roofs. If she climbed up to one of the old observation posts, she was sure she could have seen the river she spotted before... but right now...

"I'm hungry..."

"Eh?"

Nadimon took a look at their silent partner so far. Sarcos hadn't said anything- now it appears he was preoccupied with something else.

"Hey, anyone want something from that cart?"

Everyone looked at the cart he'd pointed at. A wheeled, steel affair, probably stocked with...

"That's an ice cream cart." Nadimon pointed, answering what she hadn't dared ask. Whatever ice cream was, it prolly wasn't right for hungry people- but that chump didn't care.

Now that she smelled it, she didn't care either. He came back with three round wooden bowls, each with a spoon, and something creamy.

"That smells good..."

"He sold me ammunition too."

"Ammunition?" she frowned. As he handed each a bowl (apparently, free food was enough to get Nadimon to eat ice cream for lunch), he pulled out a bag of... ammunition. He put some on his ice cream- to her relief, it wasn't bullets. Just some sort of... round, little things, like black pillbugs. Following the official stance on free food, their companion helped himself to a fistful of ammunition too.

She followed the two of them to a small, round, white table- probably wooden, though she didn't recognize that wood from anywhere. The chair, as she sat, she found strangely light, and strangely flexible. Rapping her knuckles on it, and then on the table, she recognized them as the same material.

"And this is?"

"Plastic."

"...ah."

Looking at the spoon, she realized it was plastic too. And the bowl was plastic too. And their uniforms were plastic. In hindsight, the railing was coated with plastic. Plastic. Plastic everywhere.

"The ice cream isn't plastic, right?"

"No, it's good stuff."

Well, it smelled good. It was time for a taste. She dug in with the spoon, and brought it to her mouth.

The first thing she noticed was how cold it was- in her knuckles. The cold was tangible around the cream. The second thing was its toughness- despite being cream, she needed to hold down the bowl with her other hand to keep the spoon from throwing it around. Once she pulled it up, she found it heavier than she thought it would be, intriguingly. And when she finally had it in her mouth, pulling the spoon out of her pursed lips, she felt a sugary graininess underlying the creamy, fleshy matrix of pulp. Cold as ice, it dissolved into something milky in her tongue, which she took her time rubbing on her palate. This ice cream tasted like a fresh, ripe fruit, but its consistency was a surprise, a lingering treat. A sweet experience like no other she had ever had.

"So what's it like?"

"It's very sweet. I like it." she smiled for the first time in some time. "What is it, again?"

"Ice cream. The ball you just ate is... citroise, I think."

"I like citroise, then."

"But this isn't citroise. This guy put way too much sugar in it, and whatever he used as thickener, it's too strong. Real citroise ice cream is supposed to be softer, both by itself, and on the tongue."

"Well, I like it. Can't be that bad."

"Still, I insist, this tastes nothing like citroise."

She took another look down at her ice cream, recognizing three round areas- one a pale orange, now with a spoonful missing, one brown, and one green. Her next spoonful was pulled from the green. In the middle, she found something grainy, something that left a part of itself on the spoon- half a small, red berry.

This spoonful of mixed consistency was noticeable, but that wasn't bad. The taste was... unexpected. This new cream was at the same time mildly spicy, slick, and sweet. It was almost like oil, but something about the taste told her that this flavor had a lot more body than the last. As it dissolved, the sweetness faded away, leaving only a crawling sensation on her tongue. It was then that she remembered about the half berry that she had in her mouth- rubbed on the top of her mouth, it quickly became a pulp, a sweet pulp. She swallowed slowly.

"This one wasn't that good. What was it?"

Nadimon looked at Sarcos too. Apparently, he didn't know either.

"He said it was pistachio with wafelberries."

"Ah. I could tell the wafelberry, but I have no idea what a pistachio is." Nadimon replied.

"And this last one is...?" she asked, looking at the brown one. It was uniform brown, cold, and rugged.

"Chocolate."

She gave the chocolate a try. Unlike the others, there were no surprises here, just a smoky tang, mildly bitter- and a sweetness somewhere in the middle of the last two. However, this one had a taste to accompany the sweetness, a smoky syrup she couldn't identify, unique in its own way. There were no words to describe it- until now: chocolate.

"You say this is chocolate?"

"Yes. You like it?"

"Yeah, it's great."

"Well, I wouldn't get my hopes up too much if I were you. How much did this cost you?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Doesn't matter, you're paying."

She let out a chuckle.

"Excuse me, FOOD operatives?"

The three of them turned to look at the newcomer. A dirty blonde... not quite a neko. Inu. Like Wulf. Six feet exactly, slightly tanned, sorta freckled, fluffy tail out of the back of his pants, wearing the insignia and clothes of a Kensha Hussar.

Where it came to mercenaries, FOOD, since their encounter with Crisis, had been widely regarded as a joke. On the opposite end of the totem pole were the Kensha Hussars: their name was synonymous with excellence, their ability was the measuring stick against which all others were compared. Composed of the best of the best, favored by fate, and ever victorious, if anyone was up to their level, it would have to be the Isolon Fist's top tiers- and even then, it would be extremely contested.

And this man had deigned to talk to them. It was completely unexpected.

"Yes, we are." Nadimon smiled. "What do we owe the honor, mister...?"

"Sol'el." the inu smiled right back. "But just mister will do, and you are...?"

"Nadimon Ventan, and those are Sarcos Ruuscasta and... and..."

"Rimhail Gwiazda."

"Alright. Let's get to the chase... I'm here about Crisis."

"What crisis?"

"Oh, they didn't...?" Sol'el turned to them. "The naga. Crisis." he narrowed his eyes, looking alternatively at Sarcos and Nadimon, before settling on Nadimon. "The blonde one."

"Hah, wait, she's been giving you trouble too?" Nadimon chuckled.

"No, thankfully, not yet at least." he continued, with a warm smile. "But we've got a lot less people returning from the immediate area south of the Giant Tree, in the Forest of Whispers... and those few that return, they described a blonde naga, blue-eyed, blue-tailed, endlessly hungry... much like you did."

"So...?"

"I know your leader has already presented a full debriefing to the Review and Bonding Commission- and they got a harsh deal out of it. Well, if this naga is as dangerous as she's shaping up to be, maybe, who knows, your case will merit a review to account for the real threat you were exposed to. Maybe they'll decide they were too harsh."

"That's good news!" Nadimon smirked.

"In the meantime, I'd like it if you could tell me all about her. How you first became aware of her presence, how did she attack you, how did you get rid of her, all so we can know what to expect."

"But as you said, our leader has presented a full debriefing."

"Who doesn't like a second opinion?" he smiled.

"But I wasn't there when it happened. I've never seen Crisis." Sarcos interrupted.

"Not you. Him. He has met Crisis. Just in case..." he picked a folded page from his pocket. Pulling a chair to their table, he unfolded the page and spread the centerfold on the center of the table.

"What do you think? Not exactly Vivian, but..."

"Oh my GOD!"

The three men looked at Rimhail.

"Is that even... real?"

"Told you." Nadimon smirked, looking at the picture. "Damn straight it's real."

Rimhail gulped at the sight. That picture was so impossibly lifelike, like nothing she'd ever seen on paper. It depicted a woman lying on the grass, but a woman like none she'd ever seen before. She had the most glowing, golden blonde hair she'd ever seen on a head, spread on the ground around her, smooth as if it had been always meant to look just like that, shiny as real gold. Sleepy, diamond-blue eyes gazed lazily up in the air, highlighting a perfect nose and a smile on her pink, contented lips. Her hand, as perfectly fair as the skin in her whole body, rested on her midsection, which seemed slightly swollen under her perfect round, fair breasts- as fair as she'd ever imagine anyone could be. She was almost noble in her beauty- and then she looked at her exposed crotch, where everything suddenly changed. Her hips flared from her waist, and then stopped to give place to a... a... her first impression was that it was an exotic dress, a snakeskin, but on second look, she had to realize it wouldn't fit: she would've needed to have no knees, no feet- she wasn't wearing anything, she really was a snake. A smooth teal snake with a coppery underbelly- a snake. And she looked so incredibly young, so wholesome. She was both a youthful, healthy, naked princess, and... a blue snake.

"Was... that what attacked you?"

"I think so, yeah. Though when we were there, she wouldn't stay still for a second. And you can't really see it on the picture, but she swallowed... seven of my comrades, whole and alive. We were the size of her fingers. Throat barely bulged a little. She's that big." Nadimon stressed. "Hey, check this out. Image credit: Jerid- that must be one badass guy."

"R... really?" Rimhail asked.

"Definitely: trust me on this. According to the data we've received, she must be around 75 feet tall." the inu smiled.

"Actually, I estimate the height of her upper half on the vicinity of 15 metres." Sarcos interrupted. "Judging from the camera angle, currently from the top of a tree, and the curving of the trees, which has been cropped to highlight the... what is she, again?"

"A naga."

"Naga..." Rimhail blinked. "So... 15 metres and 75 feet?"

Everyone looked at each other.

"I just said 15 metres... I have no idea how many feet that is."

"Well, I'm six feet tall." Sol'el replied.

"Then her torso is 49.2 feet tall, counting from the low end of the separation." Sarcos replied.

"But don't nagas stand at a full torso above the ground?"

"Then she'd be 98 feet tall."

"No, she's only 75 feet tall. All the measurements agreed. We used autoprismatics." the inu insisted.

"Don't those fail at a distance?" Nadimon asked.

"According to them, I'm six feet tall." he insisted.

"Then she's 98.4 feet tall." Sarcos blinked.

Taking a deep breath, the inu relaxed.

"You're not the one who saw her."

"What makes you think he wasn't?" Nadimon asked.

"I just have a gift." he smiled, pointing at his nose. "And he hasn't met Crisis."

"You got a nose that good?"

"I like to think so. I know, for instance, that you've been here for barely a month." he turned to Rimhail. "Rimhail, right?"

"I just got here..."

"But in Felarya?"

"Yeah..."

"And I know you come from a world... that is, I think, inhabited by humans alone."

"Yeah!"

"And I think that world is called Eufracta, where one of YOUR comrades hails from." he pointed at Nadimon, who frowned.

"There's no way you could've told that from just..."

"I told you I had a gift. And we've measured other giant nagas before. It's 75 feet." Sol'el pursed his lips.

"Whoa!"

Nadimon suddenly clammed up.

"And how do I know you haven't just been spying on us?"

"What?"

"You've been eavesdropping on us, eh? Back at the headquarters? Is that your gift? As far as gifts go, that's a pretty crappy one, Jack."

"Jack!? How'd you...?"

He muttered something through his lips for a moment, seemingly frustrated.

"What was that?" Nadimon asked, dripping arrogance from his lips.

"I didn't eavesdrop on you."

"Oh really."

"I already knew those things. Piper?"

At his request, a woman, previously resting over the railing, approached them. She had green hair, narrow features, and was dressed rather... well, Nadimon didn't know what to make of those clothes.

"Hello." she smiled.

"So how does this prove you didn't eavesdrop on us?"

"What's that about?" Piper asked. "Eavesdropping?"

"It's just a misunderstanding." Jack smiled nervously. "You see, Piper here's from Eufracta too. Their accents were similar, so... I reached."

"Lots of people coming in from Eufracta, I bet." Nadimon smirked. "Does everyone have the same accent there? She doesn't sound like the ape."

"Well, I must've gotten lucky." the inu shrugged.

"The ape? You mean Marcel?"

"Know any other apes, cupcake?" Nadimon took another spoonful of ice cream.

"And you are...?" Piper raised her eyebrows.

"Nadimon Ventan. Hello, Piper."

"Hello."

"I'm Private Sarcos Ruuscasta."

"And I'm Rimhail."

"Rimhail..." she said. "Rimhail?"

"Yes. Why, is something...?"

-Seven stars fall beyond the wall, hearts longing for Eufracta are all. One for vipers, two for locusts, three for darkness... four, five, six and seven wait for that chance.- she thought. -Maybe three more are coming...?-

"You're from Eufracta too? I'm from Palumma."

"...I doubt that. Your accent..."

"I've lived in Cansadena most of my life. Osello, exactly."

"Ah..."

Sol'el tilted his head, leaving the ladies to their conversation.

"So, with that misunderstanding cleared... think you could tell me about Crisis?"

"Well... I just might. Sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."

The inu pulled himself a chair, sitting down with a smile.

"We got the drop on her first." Nadimon raised his eyebrows. "We were just going through the forest, when suddenly, I heard someone calling out my name."

The inu looked him in the eye.

"Go on..."

"Wait, she called YOUR name?" Sarcos asked. "Why would she do that?"

"I don't really know. It gave me the creeps." he trembled. "Like, really, she named me."

"What were you doing?" Sol'el asked.

"I was... we stopped for water. A stream."

"There was a slope around the stream, right?"

"Right... this fucker dismounted the elephant and kinda lost his footing. Wait, how did you know that?"

"Most streams have slopes around them." Sol'el replied, a bit too quickly. "The ones that don't, it's because they're magical."

"Really."

"Water always lies downhill: if you spend more time in the wilderness, you'll see the basic rule stays the same."

"What about mountain streams, huh?"

"They flow downhill. So, someone lost his footing. Did you say anything to him?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Crisis had to know your name from somewhere. So I'm assuming someone said your name."

"Yeah, he told me his name, I told him my name too. She said my name..."

"And you really don't know why she said your name?"

"No. What's all this about?"

The inu narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing. Go on. So she said your name..."

"Yeah. We didn't know what she was back then. I thought fairy. Anyway, some talk... and then we torched the bushes she was hiding behind. With flamers. She burst out and away, and she turned out to be a naga. And she was huge..."

"Go on."

"Well, she left, and..."

"Did you people use any magic at the time?"

"Yeah, the fat guy knew a speed up spell."

"Locust."

"Yeah. He cast a spell to speed us up. Did it every time she showed up."

"So she showed up more than once?"

"Like five times. She was fucking tireless. The second time, well, we... uh... there was a crack, and then we used the flamethrowers, but she blocked it with a branch. A huge branch. And then she threw it at us. We all split for it."

"All of you?"

"Yeah, all of us. No one wanted to get hit with the fire, and we all had to get in a bad position..."

"A bad position, like what?"

"Let me finish, man! I took cover and started firing."

The hound man raised his eyebrows.

"You started firing."

"Yeah. I started firing, and she left quickly after. But she'd already eaten two guys by the time I noticed, so I went up to Locust and..."

"...you did." Sol'el nodded.

"I did... ask him what the fuck that was. We took it really hard, all of us, I didn't get what had failed-"

"Well, don't do that again." he interrupted. "It's a terrible idea to argue about whose fault it was right after a failure, with your commander at that."

Nadimon clicked his tongue.

"Thanks dad."

"I don't mean to upset you, but you really have to know..."

"Thanks dad. Yeah, I know that already." he inhaled loudly. "You wanna hear anything else, or do you just know everything?"

Sol'el tilted his head, taking in a whiff of the air. Then he stared knowingly into the bleach-haired man's eyes.

"What?"

He kept staring, wordlessly, though a smirk began forming in his features.

"I suppose that'll do..." he sat up slowly. "Thanks for telling me; I suppose I'll ask someone else."

"Why, am I boring you?"

"I took too long approaching you, my bad- and I have somewhere to be. Let's meet again, with looser schedules, shall we?"

"Sure." Nadimon shrugged.

"Great. Listen to your officers next time! Just for my peace of mind. Bye!"

"Yeah. I might. Bye!" he said, watching him leave. "What's with that freak?" he sighed between his teeth.

"Nadimon?" Sarcos asked.

"Yeah?"

"You didn't really berate a superior about a botch...?"

"Oh fuck... here we go again."

======

Usually, he considered speeding up a form of hazing, like it had been during boot camp. Wulf wasn't speeding up, so he figured that at least meant the hulk had a modicum of respect for him. His body had healed somewhat- because of Felarya- but he still didn't feel at the top of his game.

At the same time, he hoped Wulf would speed up, that way, he'd show that ugly, smug goon who was the fastest of the two of them. With the poison all out of his system, that dunce didn't stand a chance against a former Royal Guard.

"Is it much farther?"

"Come on, enjoy the sight!" Wulf roared, waving a hand over the small river to their left.

"I've enjoyed enough sights on the way here."

"What's the problem?"

"We're going too far south. We'll be leaving the eye's protection anytime soon..."

Then he finally spotted a building, probably the place they were going to. A few buildings, actually, maybe five or six- no, three. Distance played a trick at first. Two high, glistening fences cordoned off the buildings, though.

"Nah, the eye goes a lot farther."

"Are we going there? I think I heard of this place."

"Nope." Wulf burped as they approached.

"Then shouldn't we start thinking about going around it?"

As they neared the fences, they saw a handful of security guards between them. A lesser man would've been intimidated by the weapons they were carrying- Marcel was merely curious; they were oddly box-shaped affairs, with two barrels, one above and one below. The lower barrel was much larger. Wulf was completely unfazed by the strange weapon; he took to walking around the fence, a bit too close for his comfort. He didn't stop following, though.

That was, until a whirring noise caught the inu's attention. The human could tell- because Wulf's ears twitched as he looked up, finding a camera that apparently was new to him. Wulf was new to the camera, too: it stared right at the massive warrior, like it had gotten infatuated or something.

Wulf returned the stare, much to Marcel's worry. Before they left the perimeter, Wulf had stopped to look at one particular camera. Marcel took the opportunity to stop, keeping his eyes on the giant- but curiosity beat him, and he followed the inu's gaze with his eyes. It led to a camera, but perhaps Wulf's attention had actually been focused slightly behind the camera- there was an uncovered window behind it. And a flesh-colored figure moving behind; it was too far, but, with slowly rising dread, Marcel realized he was actually looking at a woman.

Furiously his eyes turned to Wulf, who was sprinting a block away. Marcel recoiled- knowing not to follow him. He wasn't associated with that man- he just looked, puzzled, as he continued to make a public annoyance of himself. Was Wulf really like that? It seemed nothing like the pragmatic (if boisterous) man he'd met in that fancy restaurant. At any rate, he wasn't in any mood for this kind of bullshit. He just followed the idiot downstream, hands in his pockets, hoping that he didn't cause any more trouble.

Wulf vanished from sight, he'd run away far too fast. Marcel shrugged, hoping against hope that security hadn't noticed. Eventually, he reached Wulf- or at least, he thought he did. There was a cottage, two stories at most- one stone, one wooden, all thatched with hay, where Wulf ought to be if he hadn't taken a swim in the river. Homely as the building was, it did seem, now that he thought about it, Wulf's style. That guy had surely made a poser of himself when they met at that fancy place back then: this was his kind of place.

He walked in: the door was open. Strangely, he was expecting a lot of hardy types- but the place, while a bar, didn't seem like it catered to adventurers. He cursed himself for a moment for being unable to read the sign on the door, it was a bit long, and probably explained something. But instead of seeing rough men with guns and swords, he saw a family sitting at the bar- a father with a green shirt, and strange, blue, rough pants, together with his redheaded son. They were chitchatting. Three young women- three? In a bar? By the window? Was this place even a bar? It had a bar. There was a short, thick man behind it, with red-blond hair and tawdy ears poking through, and a tall neko woman by the side, near the wall, wiping a table right behind... a couple. No one was armed, or particularly rugged.

"Hello. Please take a seat." the neko woman nodded, seeing his confusion. He quietly nodded, and sat by the bar... inside the not-a-bar, looking at the man behind it.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, please. Have you seen a tall, burly inu with a lazy eye walk in here? Maybe singing a stupid song while swinging his coat over his head?"

He chuckled.

"You must mean Quico."

"Quico?"

"Quico Wulf: one tall glass of drink with a broken orbit, noisy and overbearing."

"That's the one." Marcel smiled.

"Yes, he's over by the back. You must be Mars."

"Marcel Amündsen."

"Yeah. Oh, I'm Jillab." he smiled, extending a hand. Marcel shook it- Jillab put too much strength into it, though, and he winced. "And that's my wife Nyemm." Marcel just nodded softly at her.

"He's over by the back, you said?" Marcel stood up.

"Yeah, he wanted us to set up a bath for you too."

"A bath- thanks for the offer, but..."

"It's a mud bath."

...

"I don't need a mud bath-"

"He said you'd been run over by a horny donkey."

"Did he?" Marcel asked, coldly.

"I won't pry, but you could use one. I saw you wince when I shook your hand. You will feel better after one."

"So this is his idea of an apology?" he hissed, bitterly.

Raising his hands, Jillab withdrew from his face.

"I'm not much for the rough company he keeps. If you don't want a mud bath, don't let me keep you here."

"He keeps 'rough' company?"

"I didn't mean to offend."

Taking a deep breath, Marcel withdrew his face a little.

"It's fine." he shrugged. "I don't know what was I expecting by coming all the way here."

"If you'd hear a suggestion..."

"Hm?"

"Wulf already paid. It doesn't make any difference for me whether you take a bath or not, but you could use one."

Marcel pursed his lips.

"And you've come all the way here- if you don't do it now, you'll never know why. What's the worst that could happen?"

======

Taking a deep breath, he wondered if the crawling sensation inside him was accellerated healing, or if the mud was infested with bugs. Right now, he sat inside a small hole in the ground, by the roots of a tree, where the dirt had been soaked with so much water it had probably been rendered sterile. He'd sank easily- next to him, on a different ditch, Wulf lay with his head back and a huge smile on his face.

"Well?"

Wulf let out a sigh.

"Well what?"

"Why am I here?"

Wulf shrugged. His brown, mud-covered shoulders peeked out of its surface for a moment.

"Because I dragged you, isn't that a good enough reason?"

"Why am I really here?"

Wulf turned his head to meet his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you bring me here?"

"That's a good question. I think I did it for an apology."

"..."

"..."

"And well?"

"I'm waiting for your apology, Marcel." Wulf smirked.

"Wait- you brought me here to make ME apologize?"

"Yes."

"Apologize for what, exactly?"

"For your insubordination, for putting all of us in danger, and for nearly killing yourself."

"What!? I'm not going to apologize for that. What I did was perfectly justified."

"Excuse me? Justified my ass. You just wanted to play hero."

"She killed a friend of mine."

"Hmm... So, have you ever killed before?"

"It's not the same thing!"

"I never said it was. Just asking. I'm curious, Mars. Have you ever killed before?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Trying to figure you out. I don't think this would've been the first time you killed someone."

"..."

"So how old are you?"

"I'm..." Marcel stopped for a moment. "I'm nearly thirty."

"Nearly thirty. Not twenty-nine, but nearly thirty."

"Twenty-nine, fine."

"No, that's alright. You're nearly thirty, I'm cool with that. Nearly thirty, never killed someone. And you were about to kill her."

"What is it to you?"

"Fun stuff, really. I didn't know you were 'nearly thirty' and not a killer yet. Also, Royal Guard, riot control division."

"..."

"The matter is, I told you to RUN, Marcel, and you didn't listen to me."

"She was easy prey."

"You were easy prey, because you were too much of a bleeding heart prince to let Alcoosen die in peace."

"He didn't have to die!"

"Well, you didn't rescue him."

"I had to try."

"You and what army?"

"We looked out for each other. You can't understand that."

Wulf clicked his tongue.

"I came back for you, didn't I?"

Marcel shook his head.

"Yeah, you did."

"I thought you'd be a better loser. Your shoulder patch reads FOOD, after all."

"So?"

"Why all that dramatic mourning? He's dead."

"Precisely because he's dead." Marcel replied, when something clicked inside him. "He died for nothing."

"Look at me."

Looking into Wulf's eyes, Marcel wondered what this one was going to be about.

"Romoi did not die for nothing, Marcel. He saved you."

"What do you mean?"

"When the dryad lifted him, the height allowed him to get in radio contact with us. He kept yelling through his radio, repeating SNEAKY and WOOD, hints it was a dryad." Wulf explained. "We managed to get in touch with you shortly afterwards."

Marcel nodded. It was strange, almost ironic, to know that Alcoosen had died for his sake.

"He shouldn't have died for me."

"Oh, he didn't." Wulf grinned. "He tried to save himself to the very end. He threatened the dryad with us. Said that once we got there, she'd be in a world of trouble... but he made a deadly mistake. One I explained to you afterwards... he didn't give her a way out. He cornered her, and convinced her that she was doomed. And when he did that, she had to fight her way out."

The human lowered his gaze.

"I'm not saying I would've done any better. I wasn't there- I don't know. But I know this- he didn't want to die for nothing. And he didn't."

Marcel nodded.

"Thank you."

"But sooner or later someone IS going to die for nothing, Marcel, and when they do, I hope you don't go revenge nuts again. You nearly died for nothing."

"I'd have avenged him."

"That all you're worth?"

"Excuse me?"

"You told me you only risked your hide if it made a difference. You almost don't make it. You are ONE lucky fucktard. You gotta be, so that I didn't rip your skull off for disobeying me. You gotta be, to have recovered from the creeper toxin, even with antivenin. You gotta be, to have NOT died with the tonorion, the cave-in, the dryad. And you gotta be- to have found Rimhail, if that means anything to you. You almost didn't, Marcel. And don't try to sell me you're just that good, because you aren't."

Marcel raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You aren't that good."

"Wanna try me?"

"Already did."

"Without being in the throes of poison and loss?"

"Why you think I pound you?" Wulf clicked his tongue. "Why wait 'till you're fine? I got nothing to prove! You were a numbskull, I set out to humiliate you- and damn right I did. For the last time."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this isn't going to happen again. Next time you pull that, I'll rip your ass out, feed it to your boss as diet chow, snap pics of you bleeding to death, and show up drunk in your funeral to brag about it to your mom. You want to honor your friend's memory, do your best like you did with him. Think you can handle that?"

Marcel winced in annoyance. Someone had to put that dog in his place, eventually. But for the time being...

"Yes, sir."

"Heh. Outstanding." Wulf grinned.

"There's no need for sarcasm."

"No, not sarcasm." Wulf raised his eyebrows. "It's kind of why I'm so desperate for men right now that I took on your boss and his band of losers. Good help's hard to come by in this business- just about anyone would like to die, just 'till they figure out what a big deal it is. Too many chickens, arrogant twerps, and basically warm bodies... tell you what, do your part, and you can forget about the apology: we're cool."

"And if I can't?"

"Then you better quit before I waste you. It'll have an upside, though."

"And what is it?"

"Your death will accomplish something: it'll get you nimrod out of my way."

Clicking his tongue in silence, Marcel decided not to answer. That hulking demihuman may have had the worst possible attitude, but he wasn't so much of a brat that he'd sulk about it. He had to do the best he could, whether or not he liked that dimwitted beast.

"Fuck you too."

"See you first hour tomorrow, prince charming."

I have been told perfection is attainable.

I was told it is possible to proceed in such a way that you leave no flaws to exploit, and I was told it is always possible to secure means in such a way that your ends will always eventually be within reach. Wherever there's a will there is a way, and the universe is forgiving enough in spite of its uncertain nature that we're never to consider ourselves truly powerless. Until we lose all our ways of acting upon it, we are never the victim, and even if that were to happen, there was time to act differently before.

But this is a defeatist belief I don't agree with. It merely shifts the blame.

There is such a thing as injustice. There is such a thing as competition. I don't want to be the one doing it right, only to meet someone else doing it better. I'd much rather do things wrong, and make the world a little bit different, even if it costs me success. Even if that success means me living or dying. This is not a popular view of things, but it has stood the test of mortality: I've brushed with mine because of it, and I still choose, every day, to live this way.

I live as no one else does, in a world where the only honest advice I get is to leave.

By world, I don't mean a place, but a state of mind. Seeking a state of mind no one else has sought, I think things no one else thought, and do what no one else expected, or at least try to. For all their variance, great minds think alike, and I firmly believe anyone could be a great mind. I have yet to meet a foe that wasn't a great mind, who couldn't anticipate my intelligence. Intelligence is a resource that admits finite variations of its products, and it can be anticipated.

But I had yet to meet anyone that could anticipate my stupidity...



Orion zoomed through the air, taped to a rocket, wondering about the events that had landed him in this position. He'd tried to get close enough to the Mebron ambassadors, so as to kidnap at least one of them.

An agreement between the representants of the farming world of Mebron and the magiocrat-ruled city of Negav would've given Mebron an ally against the Telks pirates; that could've been really troublesome for their business. The best way to prevent any such alliance would've been to cast Negav as to weak to protect even a few ambassadors in their own soil. Orion knew he'd be shot at if he approached the ambassador, but nobody shot at rockets (yet).

It was a perfect plan. Negav had hired mercenaries to reinforce security. There was a group that was supposed to help him, but his inside men were posted too far away. Instead, he picked the weakest reinforcement post, aimed to bypass them quickly, disguise himself as an injured mercenary, and that way even if they radio'd later, his story would still check out.

Then they'd drive him around to the infirmary, without security, go closer to the ambassador in the process, and then he'd just have to light the rocket taped to his back. Nobody would shoot at a man taped to a rocket, they'd be too busy getting out of the way. Even if they didn't, as long as he was near some members of the Fist, Negav's elite forces, nobody would question a rocket being fired. And once he had the ambassador, nobody was going to shoot him either way.

But apparently they'd figured out he was just disguised as a mercenary. He'd needed to light the rocket in order to escape with his life, and that had caused some problems. Amongst them, he'd been shot anyway, and at least one bullet had hit the rocket exhaust nozzle, sending him in tight spirals over the sky. It made him wish he had a parachute.

Anyway, now he needed somewhere to land. Mercifully, the rocket hadn't smashed into the ground (yet), so he needed to figure something out.



ASSIGNMENT 7. CODENAME COYOTE


Up in the foliage, Orion checked his map as his comm buzzed. Taking a small break from the map, he grabbed the device from his waist, giving a cursory look at the forest he was overlooking.

"Orion here."

"Rover here. What's your status?"

"Behind schedule." Orion answered. "They haven't showed up yet."

Rover sighed.

"I told you, Wulf was too clever for that."

"Wulf might be a problem, I admit it," Orion began "But all he's got to help him is FOOD this time. No Fist, no more mercenaries, just them and me."

"I see. Well, I hope your plan is a little more solid than last time. You seriously taped a rocket to your back? The pirates swore by you. When I told them, we all shared a good chuckle at your expense."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." he replied, stone-faced, into his radio.

"How'd you even survive? You should have smashed yourself against the ground."

"I'd tell you, but it wouldn't make sense until you were drunk."

"Are you drunk right now!?"

"... no." Orion replied, his lips smacking as they got off a bottle. "I'll get that hamster."

"It's not just a hamster," Rover replied. "It's priceless, and our client wants it. Oh... if you could do it without... not stopping the ship, that'd be great."

"I shall do both."

"Good, what's the plan this time?"

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "First, I raised a smoke column. It attracts attention, so the ship should veer south to avoid it... where two harpies are waiting."

"How did you get the harpies there?"

Peeking out of the foliage, Orion looked at the harpies that were still circling the area, searching for the bait he'd let loose on the ground.

"I brought a few giant raccoons for use as bait."

"Raccoons! Did you go dumpster diving or something?"

"No. They fell off the back of a truck." he energetically replied, stone-faced.

The voice chuckled.

"Must've been yours, lock the back door next time. And what are you doing if this fails?"

"I brought a bird."

"A fucking bird. Right..." Rover sighed. "Well, tell me how that works later. Oh, but one thing- the pirates aren't happy with your last failure. If you don't get it right this time, they're sending Lorelei next."

The mention of her name sobered him right up.

"I... will... succeed." he snarled. "Orion over and out."

"Rover out." Orion closed the comm. Rover could be condescending, but he wasn't here right now. That alone made him lose infinity points in Orion's book.

In the distance, Orion saw the first signs of the ship coming close. It was round, white, and sluggish. The two giant harpies saw it too, and they approached. Grinning, he raised a spyglass for a better look.

======

Licking his teeth, Orion looked at the ship, then back at the harpies, then back at the ship, then back at the harpies. His lips started to twitch in spite of himself. FOOD wouldn't be able to handle this. Focused at the moment on the harpys' lips, he started reading them.

"I bet it's full of rotten monkeys, that bloated thing!" he said, making a mock harpy's voice.

"You should starve for saying that!" Orion turned to the other harpy's lips, assigning her a stiff British accent. "You're as round as an egg!"

He returned his attention to the first harpy quickly. "Thinking of anything but spawning must be too difficult for you! I'll let you have a few..."

"There's no surprise in your jealousy! I bask in their admiration while you dig for my sloppy sec-AAAAHHJGGHHJ GET AWAY, AWAY, GET AWAY!" That made him turn his spyglass to the airship and its...

"Baby come here," he gasped "come give me tongue! Come to daddy! I wanna fuck you girls!" he frowned in confusion.

"Give me tongue now, I'm gonna suck you! Just get them sweet cunts of yours right here, mm, I can taste 'em. I wanna sniff it out, ahhh, come on, bring the meat pillows and I'm gonna kiss you all over the place, like this, and this, and this-" he made a pause, blinking, to verify he was actually seeing an airship with a giant mouth on its side blowing a kiss to a giant harpy.

"Get on a baby doll, you both, I'mma soak it through and through! You have to come here so I fuck you! I wanna bite 'em chicken thighs of yours and tooth-fuck 'em! You're going to c-" He stopped repeating what the mouth said for a moment, so he could rub the tip of his spyglass, feeling strangely dirty about what he had just witnessed. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he checked, there was a fleshy giant mouth on the side of the airship, screaming obscenities to the harpies.

"Hey, Venus, bring your friend back, you girls make my Mars very happy! Just look at 'im jumping up and down, he wants to say hi! AAAAH!" the airship opened its slimy mouth, sticking out its tongue, making it vacantly loll up and down, while its lips tightened and loosened around an imaginary object in midair.

-Dafuq did I just read- Orion thought, grimacing as he licked his gums. -I feel dirty.-

Shaking his head, Orion wondered what had he just bore witness to. An airship with a giant, slobbering, mouth screaming horny obscenities? There was a limit, even to his own gullibility. Something was wrong.

Then he gasped... he had seen that mouth before!

======

Meanwhile, inside the ship...

"Oh, yeah, like that, you like what you see?" Wulf grinned, holding the mirror to his mouth.

"This is no time to stare at yourself in the mirror!" Marcel growled, approaching Wulf.

"Hey, Venus, bring your friend back, you girls make my Mars very happy!" Wulf gasped into the mirror, in his best approximation of a sultry tone, as he played keep away with Marcel. "Just look at 'im jumping up and down, he wants to say hi! AAAAH!"

"We're being approached by giant harpies!"

"Oh, yeah, like that, you like what you see? I've got plenty enough for both! I know how to treat your pussy nice!"

Taking a moment to look out the window, Marcel was greeted with the feathered giants fleeing in despair.

"Huh?"

Wulf grinned.

"This mirror is the interface for the Mark-7 Creep MagnifierTM! (Patent Pending)" Wulf added the last part with a whisper. "it projects my mouth on the side of the ship. It's a big ship, so... big mouth. A plus... with the ladies."

"So... they're afraid it'll eat them?"

"No! Get it right. They're afraid because the voice and the words of a real man makes them face a part of themselves they didn't even know about. They can't resist, they get afraid, and they run away. But I can only do this once, I wouldn't be so cruel as to break their hearts one more time! This much raw, bestial masculinity... it's a curse! It brings many women to their knees before me, but then it causes them nothing but anguish! Fate has been cruel to make me witness that power, but only my hands can truly master it!"

Rolling his eyes, Marcel thought of a retort.

"So why weren't we briefed on the defensive capabilities of this ship?" He said, drawing a blank on the retort.

"A-ah-ahn-and miss the look on your face!?" Wulf gasped. "For-get-it! We only live once!"

"Child..."

"How can you even conceive of such a thing! TELLING YOU!? Are you insane!? WHAT IS WROOONG WITH YOUUUUU?"

"That's what I wonder about you, pretty often." he replied, in annoyance. "If there are no further orders, I'll return to my post now."

"Stay safe, private! Remember, use protection!" Wulf winked, licking the edge of the hand mirror in a suggestive way. The other mercenary shuddered, withdrawing behind the door quickly.

======

That was Wulf's mouth, no doubt about it. Hindsight was a bitch. But Wulf's mouth wasn't the size of an airship. That had to be... it wasn't likely to be size-change, or a swallower mouth. It had to be an illusion! Shame he couldn't relay that to the harpies, they were too freaked out and would probably just eat him anyway.

So it was time for plan B. Pursue and destroy the airship!

He grabbed a rope, and rappelled down to the ground, where he had a few open crates. Just enough ACME material to build his flying giant robot of doom...

...well, with a few compromises, as he took a look at his schematics. He had to turn them a few times, they were upside down or worse.

Connecting pipe A of the helium tank to the feeding valve A of the automatic balloon filler, he fed the output pipe B of the automatic balloon filler on the inside of the parade float in Figure 3. Then he tied the raft C to positions marked 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 on the parade float.

Placing the helium tank on the raft, he opened the valves, turned on the automatic balloon filler, and waited as the whole contraption started swelling and rising into the air. He just needed to get close enough to board...

======

Back in the "belly" of the ship, surrounded by the weapon system consoles...

"I don't appreciate being made a fool of!" Marcel snarled. "That was two predators. It was serious."

"I know..." Sakon, the barrel-chested one amongst Wulf's men, replied. "But it might have done you well to meet Wulf a little more."

"You know I hate his guts."

"I believe the feeling is mutual."

"You got somethin' to say to me!?"

"Nothing that hasn't been said already."

"Wanna tussle-"

"Marcel, cut it out!" Nadimon cried. "He doesn't respect you, so what?"

That shut him up. Taking a deep breath, Marcel returned to his seat.

"Shouldn't we be patrolling the ship or something?" he groaned. "What if, I don't know, a fairy gets in?"

"We've got a patrol schedule. The ship's sealed anyway, and we'll be near the Eye soon. Unless we get some breach in the hull, no fairy should get in." Sakon explained.

"Not even canopy fairies?"

"The pressure, temperature, and motion detectors will find them."

"Is the whole system electronically controlled?"

"With redundant pneumatic servos." Sakon made a sweeping gesture with his hands. "An advantage of space wheel technology is that weight is no longer an issue, only volume."

"That's how we're transporting 3.000 tons of material right now in an airship." Chichi added. Marcel remembered her as the driver that got them to Murmur Inn.

"3.000 tons? With a skeleton crew?"

"There's a full crew in the decoy shipment right now at the Dimensional Gate." she explained. "They blamed the attempt on the Mebron ambassadors on the overly public nature of the event. There were just too many people involved, it's possible someone let slip what were we guarding and someone decided to do something about it. So this time, we're doing it quietly."

"And why us?"

Chichi smiled.

"Not us. Wulf. Hydra's a small force right now, and no engagements were expected. They would've gone to the Kensha Hussars instead, if it weren't that they're too big and too strong. If any of them ever leaked that information, it'd take forever to find out who did, assuming they even let the Negav government poke in there."

"So they let Wulf do it because they've got him in their pockets?"

"Our captain was in the Fist. He's always been a bit of a maverick, but they know he can be trusted through thick and thin."

"And us, what about FOOD?"

"Wulf was certain you could be trusted, in spite of your incompetence."

"ALLEGED incompetence." Marcel grunted. Cobayon was the next to speak.

"So what's on YOUR mind?"

"Last I heard from Alcoosen was that he was losing some respect for me too."

"Because you're too hardheaded?"

"I liked working under Locust."

"We've heard a lot about him too." Chichi replied. "Nothing good."

"He's gotten us this far!" Marcel frowned.

"He couldn't lead his way out of a paper bag." she continued. "I'm sorry he's your boss, but it's the truth."

Marcel let his nostrils flare.

"So about this shipment? All I know about Mebron is that it's mostly farms."

"Yeah. Plenty of volcanoes, very fertile soil, but very little iron and other structural minerals." Sakon looked at his fingers. "They can make cement, but without a heavy industry, they can't make as much as they'd like. And the lack of good materials for weapons... well... do you know what an interdimensional pirate is?"

"No."

"Well, the 3000 tons of perishables we're carrying will cement Negav's friendship with Mebron, so they can start fighting the pirates in their behalf."

"All that is food?"

"And a hamster." Sakon grinned. "A miniature giant space hamster."

"But... what makes it a SPACE ham-"

"Enemy on starboard!"

======

Looking out the window, Wulf raised his eyebrows. This next predator was a square-jawed man. In blue. Leading with his fists. Wearing a red, fluttering cape. Was he wearing his underwear on the outside? Red underwear? What was that on his chest? What species from what world was this?

Oh, whatever. This would work and none of that would matter. He took a swig of liquor (for courage) and once more held his mouth to the mirror.

"You're a big boy with a big chin. You've got a big chin, it looks tight. Can you lick your chin? If you can lick your chin and I can fuck it, can you lick my dick while I stick it in your chin?"

No reaction whatsoever: the strange giant kept flying towards the ship. Strange. Wulf had made a mistake there, he could recognize it. He hadn't emphasized his lips and tongue enough!

"I taste like dirt, what do you taste like?" Wulf licked his lips, wondering if the mirror was working. "I like dirt, I eat a lot of dirt. Sometimes I eat so much dirt I get poop stuck in my teeth. It tastes funny!"

The flyer continued its monotone march towards Wulf, who was beginning to respect how committed this man was. Or maybe he wasn't drunk enough to creep him out?



But he wouldn't stop. He just wouldn't stop... the grim reality of the situation started dawning on Wulf. A confrontation was starting to become inevitable.

"Tough crowd." Wulf took another swig of creepy juice. "Dude, you have nice eyes. I like the way you look at me. I'm gonna show ya..." Wulf undid his belt, pulling down his pants. Then he suddenly came to a realization... a confrontation was already inevitable. He wouldn't be able to scare off the predator anymore. For whatever reason, that predator was determined to take him and his people down.

======

"The Mark-7 Creep MagnifierTM (patent pending) isn't working on this guy." Marcel clenched his fists. "What are we waiting for?"

"We have standing orders to wait until he gets closer before firing." Sakon answered.

"There's no point in waiting!"

"Not until he's close enough. Those are Wulf's orders-"

And then Wulf charged into the room.

"Alright, I need your asses all up and bouncin' about right now! I wanna see you guys point it HARD at that big boy's face and cream it with some hot spicy lovin'!"

"Why are your pants down, captain?"

"Shut up, Mars!"

======

The moment of truth arrived. Orion grinned as the bullets started zipping into the monster he was riding. The raft had a small bulletproof barrier for him to lie behind, and the rest of the float wouldn't be taken down by concentrated fire, no matter how much. It'd take a miracle for them to bring down his raft.

Readying his weapon, he listened for a pause in the gunfire, peeked over the barrier on his raft, and fired a single, brightly colored ball at the ship. There was no time to see if it worked: he waited for another pause on the gunfire, and leapt out of the parade float, held only by a thin thread. The gunfire resumed within a second, but that was enough for him to be five metres lower than the center of mass of the parade float. It remained buoyant just long enough for him to reach the ground, collapsing afterwards in a sad sputtering blue sack of helium globelets up in the branches.

He took cover in case they decided to finish it off with a rocket (you never knew), and took his spyglass. The signal should be just about... now.

*POOF*

Something on the side of the ship burst into confetti, announcing that the tracker was now in position. A malicious grin came to Orion's dark lips as his plan started to come into fruition...

*BOOM!*

======

"I'm not proud, but it had to be done." Wulf shed a single tear. "That's a man's determination! You must respect it!"

"You missed!" Sakon frowned. "You hit that other tree over there!"

"Whatever." Marcel smiled. "It's dead anyway now..." he kept his binoculars trained on the collapsing body, grinning.

"I couldn't just leave that giant there to die with a whimper! He took more bullets than I'd seen anyone take! And all to the face, too!" Wulf growled. "He didn't let his face show it, but I could tell he was losing gas as he endured bullet after bullet (almost like he was a parade float)" Wulf whispered that last bit "And I wonder what for. What could drive a man to take so much punishment and continue his implacable pursuit of something he shall never attain! WHAT WAS THE CAUSE HE GAVE HIS LIFE FOR?"

"Wait..." Marcel lowered his binoculars. "It's not a predator, it's collapsed in a heap... whatever that is, it's hollow and thin..."

"WHAT IS A MAN! WHAT IS A MAN BUT A HOLLOW PILE OF LIES!" Wulf continued.

"No, I'm pretty sure that's a... parade float?" Marcel returned his binoculars to his chest. "Someone was expecting us?"

"... I suspected as much from the get-go." Wulf rolled his eyes.

"I thought this operation was kept under wraps?" Marcel looked at Wulf.

"It was... who told you that?"

"I did." Chichi said. "We were going to be in Negav in a few hours..."

"I get it." Wulf raised an eyebrow. "Well, aren't the magiocrats gonna be happy the leak was on their side." he took a deep breath. "I suppose the smoke earlier was to make us take a detour so they could throw that float at us. But what was the float for? Were they planning on boarding us? I didn't see any boarders on that float. And we downed it right away!"

"Who else knew?"

"Well, other than the magiocrats, I know Rover knew, but..."

"Rover?"

"Rover, yeah!" Wulf raised his eyebrows. "He's been running intel since forever, and he's second only to the Review Board where it comes to being connected. But he's a solid guy."

"Who else?"

"I just mentioned Rover 'cause you might've heard of him. I'm not telling you the name of every merc I've ever talked to just because you saw a balloon and got antsy!"

"Well, someone wanted to ambush us-"

"Fuck- really, Mars? I hadn't noticed! Here's a chance for you to do the right thing- and shut. Up." Wulf snorted. "Don't need your dumb ass repeating everything I know."

Marcel nodded.

"Got it, sir."

"For once, that's satisfactory."

======

Checking that his butt was still in one piece, Orion's heart went back into his chest, where it resumed functions. That rocket had really been close to blowing him up into a thin red mist. Why was it aimed at him if the parade float was over there?

He'd have thought he'd been spotted, if it weren't because they hadn't insisted. There was no way it was a warning shot. Phase one complete. Now phase two!

Digging in his pockets, he grabbed a whistle. Then a bigger whistle. And then a whistle even larger than both whistles. He stuffed the smallest inside the medium, inside the largest, and then blew on the whistle.

*WAKKA WAKKA WAKKA*

Stuffing his lungs with air, he brought the device to his mouth again.

*WAKKA WAKKA WAKKA*

It took him a moment to rethink his strategy. He licked his finger, held it up for a moment, pointed with his other hand, and turned until his shadow was where he liked it. His next blow of the whistle was more careful.

*WAKKA WAKKA WAKKA*

======

"Captain! The radar is detecting multiple flying creatures!"

"Where?"

"Aft!" Sakon cried. "We've also located strong magnetic anomalies!"

Wulf looked out the aft window. There were multiple flying... red and yellow parrots? If this were the Great Marshes, he'd have thought it was stormseekers. If this were the Great Rocky Fields, he'd have assumed the one leading them, the 50 foot bird, was a greater stormseeker. But why were they together? And why was there a man riding it?

"WAKKA!"

And why did that guy look so familiar, Wulf wondered? As he zoomed in with his prismatics, it hit him- that was the creep from the job with the Fist, a couple weeks ago! He'd recognize that dumb googly-eyed face anywhere! First some kinda weird dog, now some kinda weird bird? Some weird bird doing something that it wasn't supposed to? He was starting to see a pattern here...

"Okay, I found our perp!" he grinned. "Same dumbass we fought with the Fist. That one really had you with your tail between your legs, right, Mars, eh?" he winked. "Okay, I'm pokin' some holes into his cheese!"

The gun spun from starboard to aft position, giving him six cannons to see how lucky this evildoer felt. He pulled the trigger, and the barrels started spinning and banging with a harsh rattle. The flash and smoke from the anti-aircraft gun made it hard to tell if any damage was being caused, but the creature no doubt reacted, as it slowed down and started flapping its wings harder.

"Ha! How do you like that, you ugly mother?" the inu grinned, letting go of the trigger, watching the flying monster plummet and dive into the foliage. The rest of the birds seemed to disperse.

"That was fun!" Wulf laughed. "And this chapter is what, a third of the length? I can't believe we won in under 25 kilobytes, is this the right story? Codename Hydra? Oh, whatever. I guess this is it. You'd budgetted some time and now got an excess. How about you go read that one dumb kid's webcom-?"

A sharp tug to the side cut him off, throwing him to the ground. The bright light inside the oval room turned into penumbra as several devices sparked and blinked. Red strobing lights filled their cabin...

"The hell was that!?" Marcel cried.

"I broke the fourth wall!"

"The electronics are down!" Sakon cried. "The pneumatics are holding... we should be fine..."

And just then, with a shrill cry, something rose against the window, and pecked right through it, ripping off the machinegun out of the ship and almost ripping Wulf out too. The red head of the giant bird squeezed to fit inside the room, its long beak tossing the gun off into the ground before aiming again for the people.

======

They all held on tight to whatever they could find: the creature's weight was tilting the ship, and they could easily have slid down towards its reach. It wasn't going to wait for that to happen, though, so it kept trying to squeeze its head tighter.

Entangling one arm safely around the ladder, Marcel pointed his shotgun and opened fire.

"WAKKA!"

It was no use. The creature didn't even flinch, even with a bullet heading straight for its eye. As he pumped the gun with some effort and fired again, he realized his bullets weren't hitting it- it was like the thing wasn't in the way of the bullet. Pump, shot, and no result, again- what the hell was going on!?

"TAKE THIS YOU BAD MUTHA!"

While he'd been trying to shoot it, Wulf had nearly come to its mouth, and the crazy hulking gunner had, instead of trying to get away, stood up, and punched the giant bird in the eye.

"THE HELL!?" Marcel squeaked, climbing up the ladder...

"MARCEL!"

Nadimon was close, and couldn't get to the ladder. That pretty kid wasn't any use- but he'd be damned if he was going to just let him get eaten, Alcoosen dying had been bad enough...

"Grab!"

Reaching for Nadimon with the shotgun, he then pulled the boy close (realizing that he weighed a lot more than he looked) and clambered up the ladder. He noticed Sarcos was off to the side, safely nestled behind a console, and remembering the cyborg's insanely good aim, had an idea.

"Sarcos! Aim for the eye!"

Sarcos immediately pointed his shotgun... at the wall, firing off a single bullet, which predictably, hit the wall.

"Recalculating. Recalculating." he added, as he dropped the gun, making pistol gestures with his hand. "Recalculating."

"No, the eye!"

"Recalculating." he repeated, pointing his finger at Marcel.

"Not mine, that bird's!"

"Sarcos has encountered an error and needs to be shut down. If the problem persists, contact the distributor for a troubleshooting guide. Error code: 0x0088bc6 (Excessive Magnetic Field Exposure)." Afterwards he blinked, and jumped for Marcel's ladder.

"Yeah! How do you like that, huh!? There's more where that came from!" Wulf snarled, as he pointed the shotgun point-blank at the creature's eye, pulled the trigger...

...and after the muzzle flash, it had missed. In fact, Wulf's shotgun had suddenly gotten glued to the ceiling, which prompted him to run towards the ladder, and jump, catching it at the last minute. Marcel was already in the compartment above, together with everyone else who wasn't standing right next to the window when the bird tried to eat them.

"Sakon!" he roared, just as they all disappeared up the access ladder.

"It's a greater stormseeker! Except... it's repelling the bullets!"

"How...?"

"Sarcos has encountered an error and needs to be shut down. If the problem persists, contact the distributor for a troubleshooting guide. Error code: 0x0088bc6 (Excessive Magnetic Field Exposure)."

"That poor boy's gone into shock!" Wulf bellowed. "How do we kill it?"

"I've got an idea-" Sakon said, grabbing something from his suit and stuffing it in the barrel of his shotgun. "-if bullets don't work, how about we fire something else?"

"Like what?"

"Like..." the barrel-chested man tapped his chest, finding a button. He pried it off in a hurry, and fed it down the muzzle of his gun, before peeking down the ladder hole and firing it at the creature. It finally recoiled, withdrawing from the now wide open window and flying off.

"Excellent thinking, Sakon! How'd you think of it?"

"Sarcos has encountered an error and needs to be shut down. If the problem persists, contact the distributor for a troubleshooting guide. Error code: 0x0088bc6 (Excessive Magnetic Field Exposure)."

"It was just a hunch." Sakon humbly explained.

"That weirdo is behind all this, I just know it. He must be trying to stop us, but why?" Wulf hummed, as he stuffed his hanky down the barrel.

"I dunno. Maybe he wants some food?"

"Let him come get it. I'll give him FOOD." Marcel said, pulling something from his jacket pocket. He crammed the vegetable down his shotgun. "Time to see how badly he wants FOOD!"

"What'd you just shove up there?"

"A slice of pineapple!"

"Ewww, that's painful."

"And I'm just about to unload it on his ass!" Marcel growled.

"That's the spirit, Mars!"

A strong draft suddenly announced the bird had pulled its head out of the oval room below: cold air rushed inside in whirlwinds. Then there was a loud crash, suggesting the bird had just pecked at the top of the aircraft-

"That's the...!" Wulf snarled. "It's coming after the hamster!"

"The hamster!?"

"The miniature giant space hamster(TM)!" Sakon cried. "It runs in a wheel, powering the spaceship!"

"This is a spaceship?"

"A single space hamster can power a whole spaceship. A miniature hampster is even more sought after, more compact!"

At that moment, they noticed a few of the smaller birds chirping in the oval room underneath. Sparks and lightning bolts flew around, and then one of the birds noticed the soldiers up the ladder.

"You guys stay and fight! I've gotta stop that maniac! Mars, Sakon, come with me!" Wulf immediately disappeared down a door.

======

As the three gunners sped down (and up) several wobbling ladders, tilting corridors, and leaning stairs, the path towards the engine room (and the fabled giant space hamster) grew longer and longer: it wasn't until he observed that Sakon followed Wulf without hesitation, and even got ahead of him at times, that Marcel realized they'd probably done this stretch before. But opening his mouth wouldn't cause a disaster...

"So, come here often?" he said, as they sped past a series of crates in a large, overstocked room. The earthly smells suggested the crates were stuffed with produce.

"Shut up, Mars, you're gonna jinx it!"

"Just tell me how much longer it-"

"WAKKA!"

A giant beak suddenly pried off a large section of the ceiling. Bright sunlight streamed into Marcel's eyes, slowing him down for a moment in recognizing the red bird that had just gotten a good look at them. Luckily, the bird took a moment to recognize them too.

"WAKKA!"

The three men took no time in hiding behind some crates.

"WAKKA!"

"What do we do?"

Wulf hummed.

"The door is right behind that bird."

"Figures..."

"We'll distract it while you sneak past and make sure the hamster is secure in its wheel."

"The hamster?"

"Secure in its wheel."

"Why me?"

"Because you scream like a girl!"

"I don't scream like AIEEEE!!!" he screamed like a girl as Wulf suddenly threw him in front of the bird. Marcel barely managed to raise his head, looking into the bird's beady black eyes. He rolled on the ground, grabbing his shotgun- and reaching for some very empty air where his weapon used to be.

"Wulf, you son of a bitch-!"

"WAKKA!"

"Just so you don't shoot the hamster, butterfingers!" Wulf emerged from his hiding spots, dual-wielding shotguns. He pointed at the bird, and opened fire into its throat. The bird let out a cry...

"WAKKA!"

...and recoiled for a moment, before pointing its beak at the inu again. Quickly, one of the shotguns flew out of his hands; Wulf braced himself and managed to hold on to the other one, at great cost...

"DAAAaaaAAAAMN!"

...as he was suddenly sent flying upwards with nothing but a head movement from the great beast. It opened its beak, ready to catch him on the way down- when something flew at its eye and caused it to tilt away. Instead of eating Wulf, the latter landed on its head.

"You don't learn, do ya!?" Wulf grinned, sliding down its neck and throwing a grenade at the beast's eye. It didn't explode (it was too close), but it did get the thing to twist its head away from the projectile. Then it fell down- next to Marcel.

"Oh sh-!"

"GET A MOVE ON, SCUMBAG, I'M NOT PAYING YOU BY THE HOUR!"

Punching the grenade, Marcel hid behind a crate as it went off. Then he ran the rest of the way towards the door, turning the latch and getting right through- to the engine room.


======


A familiar, dark-skinned lunatic was waiting there, right under a large hole ripped in the ceiling, from which a rope hung. Next to him, there was a slowly opening glass case, containing one very agitated hamster. A strange contraption was built all around the room, full of pipes, wheels, and valves. The mystery man turned around, meeting his eyes...

"You..." he said.

"You!" Marcel growled. "Get away from the hamster! Now!"

The man blinked, grabbing his own shirt- and pulling hard, he ripped it off with a tug: underneath, he wore another shirt.

"You should leave. I'm taking this hamster."

"Not on my watch- you don't!" Marcel lunged for him, stopping just close enough to punch him in the ribs. The man tried to duck, but then thought of it again... and instead let Marcel connect with his chest. Much to his surprise, upon the softest contact, the mercenary was thrown backwards through the air.

"What-HOW!?" he gasped, looking at the man, whose hair had exploded in spikes.

"That is the power of my battle aura." he boasted, blank-faced.

"Your what?"

"Battle aura. It's like an aura, only in battle." he blinked. "You cannot comprehend such a thing..."

"Comprehend THIS!" Marcel stood up, surprised by his sudden weakness, taking his knife. With a single movement, he swung it at the man's throat. He deflected it with the shirt on his hand, which he then threw at him. Proud of himself for avoiding the flying shirt, he weaved in closer, just in time to punch the man, in the face this time-

Then he was elbowed in the elbow while backstepping. The familiar sensation caught him again, throwing him away. His body twitched on the ground, just in time for the glass case to open.

"No!" Marcel cried, jumping again at the man- who reached inside the cage, and blocked the spinning hamster wheel.

The whole ship swung sidewards like a coil immediately and violently. Both Marcel and the man were thrown to the wall; this time around, Marcel stood up first, picking the man's first shirt off the ground. He had a theory, as he wrapped his fist around the shirt, that if he punched the man with it then there'd be no "battle aura" or whatever.

And he was right. Docking the man in the chest, he caught him on the defensive, and immediately proceeded to box his face. He tried to cover himself, but only managed to get thrown to the ground. Marcel grabbed him by the arm, ready to slam his face into the ground-

"End of the line for you, dickhead!"

"My name is Orion!"

Orion had caught Marcel's knife off the ground, and had nearly thrust it right in his eye when the larger mercenary caught his arm.

"What were you planning on doing with THAT!?"

"This." Orion shoulder-bumped him, discharging his quickly depleting static electricity (Marcel felt pretty proud for figuring that one out) into his throat. That slowed Marcel just enough for Orion to kick him off, elbow him on the throat, leaving him disoriented for just enough...

...to get overconfident, as Marcel lifted his head and headbutted him in the nose, raised his fist and smacked his skull into the ground, to the side, and again, and again-

-and then he was thrown into the wall, as the ship reacted again to the hamster being stilled.

"I'm done here, thank you very much." Orion spat some blood, clinging on to the rope as he took the hamster. How had he touch the hamster wheel!?

"How did you touch the hamster's wheel again?"

"With a bit of string." Orion climbed up frantically, all the way to the hole on top. "The ship's gonna run out of wheelpower soon and fall, its wreckage's gonna smoke to high heaven. You better get off before it draws the wrong kind of attention."

"Like hell I will-" Marcel said, standing up. Orion called to the bird, which quickly turned to him -Mars wondered where Wulf had wound up-, and then he started the strangely slow process of mounting the bird.

"Run out of hamster power SOON, not now?" he wondered, looking at the cage again. The wheel was still spinning. There was no way he was going to catch Orion, but maybe-

He leapt at the cage and, after a moment of hesitation, drove his finger into the wheel. It was just a little poke.

And that created just enough of a quake to get him thrown flying into the fifteen foot ceiling. He barely made an impact, managing to catch himself on a pipe before the fall did what the quake couldn't.

"I'm flying into a lot of things today..." he said, as Orion bumped down into the floor. Swinging himself forward, he landed right next to the nutcase, kicking him in the ribs.

"I got you now-" he added, with another stomp "you piece of-!"

"WAKKA!"

Looking up, Marcel realized he'd forgotten about something vital. A big red thunderbird. He barely managed to dive out of the way as its beak reached down and grabbed Orion in his stead, throwing the bizarre warrior up into the air and catching him. Thinking quickly, Marcel hid himself behind the door frame, where the bird couldn't reach him. The sound of fluttering wings told him the bird had decided to leave after snacking on its master- giving him barely enough time to restore the power source.

The ship started leaning backwards; he clung on to the doorframe, and clambered up back into the engine room. Something caught his eye- a brown bag, sliding down the floor towards the door frame-

"NO!"

He caught the bag. Something squirmed inside- the hamster was still alive. He was still in time to restore power! The ship kept leaning, and leaning... the incline got more and more unreasonable...

Tucking the bag into his pants, he walked up to the wall, and clambered up the pipeworks, closing on the glass cage and its slowly moving wheel... when the ship started quaking even worse than before. He noticed the wheel wasn't drifting, so it could only mean that the ship had started to hit on the trees...

Gasping and tightening his muscles, he climbed the last stretch, wrapped one arm around a loose pipe, and reached with the other for the bag. He gripped the bag as tightly as he could with his other hand, and reached inside for the foul-tempered rodent that he needed to save his own life. The surly animal started biting at his knuckles... but he didn't relent. He tightened his fingers around it, and pulling it out, he tossed it inside the glass cage, fumbling to get it in the wheel, using his spread fingers to block the animal from leaving the cage. The animal wouldn't start, all it did was keep biting at his fingers...

"COME ON, RUN, YOU UGLY RAT!"

The animal still did nothing but gnaw at his fingers. He kept cursing, and clenching his teeth, to no avail- the ship kept hitting harder, and harder on things- his arm felt like it was on fire, the incline got worse-

"LEAVE IT THE HELL ALONE, DUMBSKULL!" a voice cried from the doorframe. "IT WON'T RUN IF YOU STUFF ITS FACE WITH FINGERS!"

"I can't let it get out-"

"PULL OUT YOUR FUCKING HAND!" In the throes of desperation, Marcel opted for removing his hand... immediately, things started rumbling and swinging.

This was it. The ship was going to crash into something. The animal had to have left the wheel- he'd have to catch it. Dizzily, he started slapping at the unseen cage for the deserting hamster...

...and someone grabbed his hand.

"It's okay, Marcel, it's okay!" Wulf cried. "We're back to normal..."

Marcel finally opened his eyes, seeing the hulking inu standing on the ceiling.

"We're upside down..."

"No, you are."

"Whiu'?"

The glob of saliva he spat went "upwards". Immediately, he untwined from the pipe he was clutching, and gasping for air, reached the ground slowly.

"Good job, Mars! But why'd you grab the hamster?"

"I didn't-" Marcel weakly took a few tentative steps. "Orion did."

"Orion?"

"That man... he was the same from the Chomikai assignment. That one with the... big bulletproof rats. He has birds... for some reason..."

"Hah! I like a man who can keep me on my toes!" Wulf smirked.

"What do we do now!?"

"We guard the hamster!"

"There's a big hole on the ceiling, what are we supposed to do about that!?"

"Nothing! We ain't paid to fix things. We're paid to keep the hamster there." Wulf pushed a combination of buttons, closing the hamster glass door slowly. Though it probably took about the same amount of time, it felt like infinitely longer without the heated battle...

"I got your shotgun." Wulf smiled. "And I've got some big bone shards, too."

"How'd you even survive? I thought it'd eat you for sure!"

"I got it to throw me off."

"How's that any less lethal?"

"I'm tougher than I look!"

"You look pretty tough."

"Tee-hee, you're a suckup!"

"...Here's a ground rule. You never giggle at me again." Marcel winced.

"Oooh, are you blushing?"

"Really, how'd you survive?"

"Sakon had an extra grenade. Just enough to distract the Angry Birds. Speaking of which, think that guy's gonna come back?"

"How'd he catch up to us in the first place!?"

"I've got no idea, Mars... we're in trouble." Wulf pursed his lips.

"But how'd he catch up to us in the first place?"

"He was riding a bird."

"And how did he find us?"

"It's on us for traveling on a straight line, heh. Just a few turns and he'll miss us, heh..." Wulf smirked. "First we'll move 20 miles northwest, continue southwest for 20 miles, and then we'll go southeast for another 20 miles before returning to a southwest bearing. He'll never see it coming! It's not a straight line!"

"I... don't think that'll work..."

======

The captain agreed with Marcel, the plan was dumb, so they instead set their course northwest for 20 miles, and then proceeded southeast for the rest of the trip. Wulf pouted, of course.

But then the bird showed up again.

"I told you we should've done what I told you we should've done!"

"Thanks, Wulf. That's very helpful right now." the captain grunted.

"Now we need a plan..."

Marcel stepped forward.

"How about we use the Mark-7 Creep MagnifierTM (patent pending)?"

Wulf looked at him, eyes wide.

"I had no idea you were into birds!" he gasped, covering his mouth "How does that even work? You're creeping me out, you huge perv!"

"No, to scare it away!"

"You think it's gonna work?! This bird can tell we're full of machinery!"

"We gotta try!"

The captain turned to them.

"Within 30 minutes we'll be in Negav's airspace. If you can keep the bird busy just that long, it'll have to get off our hair..."

"But only improvised projectiles hit it... they won't deal as much damage as a bullet." Marcel said.

"Not that they'd do any good. And grenades just don't get too close, too much metal."

"Short of tying them to its face, nothing will work." Nadimon cut in.

"That's just stupid." Wulf said.

"Yeah. We'll be ready to ambush it in case it comes back." Marcel said, as most people left for one of the hull holes...

"I'll go think up some pickup lines." Wulf added, leaving. "What do birds like to be told?"

That left Nadimon alone with the captain's crew. Someone tugged on his shoulder. He turned to look at Sarcos, whose breakdown had almost cost them their lives...

"How does the bird put a hat on?"

"Good grief... I thought you'd be useful..." Nadimon rolled his hand down his own face. "I don't care, go knit a hat for the bird, I'm just going to shoot it..."

======

Being atop the craft gave everyone a better idea of how fast they were going. Marcel did not need to struggle with long hair, but some others (like Nadimon) had to wrap something around their heads to keep it off their faces: the bird was going to come from behind.

A makeshift net allowed them to keep their footing against the smooth surface, and their barrels held ceramic debris. The bird came by again, ready to attack, letting loose a silent cry in the distance.

"There it is..."

"WAAARK!" its voice reached them.

"It's 4 blocks away, I guess." Sakon said. "Wait until it's within range."

The bird grew as the distance shrank. The familiar shape of Orion became visible, riding atop the bird.

"Don't shoot 'till you see the white in their eyes!" Wulf grinned. "We can't waste our debris!"

"We have a problem..." Nadimon grimaced.

"What?"

"Their eyes are closed!"

The bird rose, with its eyes closed, and circled the ship to its right, rising...

"Hmmm..." Sakon grumbled. "It's trying to keep the sun behind it, and a height advantage."

"Does that mean anything?"

"That it knows we can hurt it. And it's still coming..."

"Let it come."

Casting a shadow on them, the creature approached, rising, forcing Marcel into an awkward position for shooting from prone. He had to entwine a leg with the netting to aim up... and pull the trigger.

A screech came from the friction of debris against barrel. Ten more followed... and the bird did not seem to flinch. Hurrying to load another bit of debris into the muzzle, he was caught unaware during the bird's counterattack.

"WAAARK!"

A lightning bolt hit right on his arm. Much to his horrror, the shotgun flew out of his grasp involuntarily. He let out a scream of pain, smelling seared flesh and fumbling for the rope with a numb hand...

"AAARGH!"

"Marcel, are you alright!?" Nadimon barked next to him.

"I... can't move!" he gasped, clinging to the netting. "My hand... MY HAND...!"

"Just hang on tight!" Nadimon cried, lowering his gun through a wave of gunshots. "We'll get back in..."

"WAAARK!"

Another lightning bolt hit close to both. With an explosion, the net that Marcel was clinging to was suddenly cut in the middle by the extreme heat, loosening around his arm...

"No!"

"I've got this!" Nadimon cried at the rest, grabbing the side of the netting which Marcel was holding on to. He pulled it closer to the side he was on... quickly finding it was way too heavy. "C'mon...!"

"It's like a ton of rope, don't be stupid!"

Nadimon let out a snarl.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" he said, through the gunshots, as he pulled a knife, cutting a few lines on his own side.

"What are you doing?"

"This!" he said, throwing some of the string that wasn't bearing any weight towards Marcel.

"I can't- I can't let go!"

"Oh, DARN IT!"

The younger man followed the rope to the other side of the netting, and tied it to the part Marcel was hanging on to.

"That should hold...!"

"No, you fool-"

"WAAARK!"

Another flash of lightning burst the top of the ship, this time starting a fire outright. Looking back, Nadimon gasped- the netting was straining, and had almost come off.

"FALL BACK!" Wulf roared. "RETURN TO THE SHIP!"

The top of the ship suddenly got really empty as Nadimon and Marcel hung on the side of the netting, threatening to come loose.

"Get yourself well wrapped..." Nadimon grimaced.

"It's no use, we're gonna fall...!"

"Stupid bird! This is the second predator that pulls solar glare on me, I better invest in some dark glasses!"

"If we get out of this..."

The netting continued to rip out on its own. The two of them hung precariously on the crumpled up tangle... Nadimon gulped, recalling that feeling during their second confrontation with a predator---

Terror started clutching at his innards, like the time before... he started shaking, dreading the sight of the bird, flapping its wings atop and behind the ship which concealed half of it from his sight, as it belched out lightning at the netting that kept them alive. It had forced them down, it had won, now it was just time for the execution.

"Damn it!"

He looked at Marcel with resentment. Hadn't he tried to play hero earlier, he would be inside the ship, mounting a counter-offensive right now, instead of in plain view of that shifty thing, swinging through the air at sixty miles per hour, feeling every snapping string in his head, every tug and swing in his stomach.

"Damn it, why did I try to play hero!?" Nadimon cried. "Now I'm stuck here with you!"

"Climb back up, snowtop, if you're so sorry!"

"With that bird up there!?!"

"Wanna wait for it to come down here!?"

"G-gh-aaargh!"

Nadimon crawled up the rope, thankful for its knots, as fast as he could. Getting to the top, he looked down at Marcel, whose hands were one burnt, and one barely responding, clenching his teeth- and shook his head. Then he scrambled for the entrance hatch atop the ship...

...and found it closed.

"SHIT!" he kicked it. "GUYS!? GUYS?! IT'S NADIMON, LET ME IN, LET ME IN!"

Turning around, he saw the shadow of a very, very big bird.

"WAAARK!"

"SHIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!" he grimaced, reaching for his gun... just as the creature opened its mouth.

"Eat th-!"

His desire to fight was overpowered by his desire to live, and he jumped off instead of shooting. Cramming a knot of rope into the muzzle, he pointed at the creature's ever-moving eyes... and fired. The bullet veered off, but the bits of string did not, and they made the big bird and its rider look away for a second... a second he could use to try and jump down the other hole, the one the creature had made earlier, trying to get to who knows what.

The sharpened edges of the hole, and the twenty-foot drop, discouraged him from jumping or trying to fall down. But knowing he had a giant bird behind really narrowed his choices down... so he jumped. A stray wire slowed down his fall, but not too much.

"ARGH!"

Flipping on his back, he saw the head of the giant bird peek into the hole. A strange sensation reminded him the magnetic field was still on. And then...

BOOM!

The world turned bright white for a second, while a loud bang disoriented him. He crawled on the ground towards where he assumed the door was, chased by that electric predator... and then he bumped his head against something cold. Rolling, he realized that was the wall, a pipe on the wall.

"Dammit!"

Trying to get on his feet, he stumbled back on the ground, twisting his direction, stunned, before the bird caught him, hiting his hip against the wall again- and then his shoulder, and that bird was still out there. He cried in desperation, opening his unseeing eyes...

...wait, he was fine now. There was no bird out there. Its rider hadn't entered either. What had just happened?

The door opened behind him. Wulf and two others ran in.

"Alright, where's that creep!?" Wulf grinned. "We got the signal. Shoulda known he'd come back for more..."

"W... what's going on!?"

"Huh? You're still alive, good..." Wulf laughed. "That guy must've tried to enter, we set a trap for him on the hole."

"What do you mean?!"

"We set a trap for him, put a flashbang there for him and his bird to trip on." Wulf pointed at the hole. "That, and some trip wire... and the rest, is history."

"No, I did it! I tripped the wire!"

"You what!?" Wulf roared. "Then he's...!"

The head of the bird peeked in through the hole again, opened its beak, and fired off lightning at the four of them, throwing them around like twitching ragdolls.

"That was hard!" Orion complained. "But I won."

"No, you didn't..." Sakon, one of the men with Wulf, gasped.

"Yes, I did." Orion closed the door.

"Not... YET!" Wulf rose to his feet. "You haven't seen my secret weapon yet!"

"Secret weapon?" he raised his eyebrow.

"This!" Wulf showed him a length of rope, tied in a special knot. He started swinging it overhead.

"A lasso?" the bandit's eyes widened. "My bird will eat you if you do anything to me..."

"Then how about this!?" Wulf said, throwing the lasso...

...at the bird. In spite of the hard throw, he got the lasso firmly wrapped around the bird's neck.

"And now, chew on this!" he added, pulling hard on the rope. The bird pulled in the other direction- and that's when Orion noticed something was wrong. The rope was taut, but it wasn't pulling Wulf- it was sliding around the bird's neck. And as Wulf tugged hard, something quickly closed towards the bird's head, in spite of the object at its end being repelled by the magnetic...

...a grenade!?

"POLLO STOP-!"

The grenade reached the hoop on the bird's neck.

"BANG!"

Averting his eyes for a moment, Orion barely managed to avoid Wulf's metal-denting fist, ducking under, running at the string on Pollo's neck... and crying one command after another, none of which Pollo acknowledged. He was lifted up into the air, banging briefly against the ceiling, then getting pulled out of the ship.

"POLLO, SIT! POLLO! POLLO! POLLO!" Pollo, deafened and blinded by the explosion, had gotten agitated and violent, trying to fly away from the ship... however, its messed up sense of balance barely allowed it to zig-zag in altitude, before it crashed into a tree. It almost splattered itself, slowly unsticking. Orion crashed into the same tree, a bit lower- but the man bounced off faster, hitting the ground quickly.

Picking himself up as if nothing had happened, Orion rubbed his face.

"That could've gone worse..." he grumbled.

Then Pollo fell on top of him.

======

"That's another obstacle deftly conquered." Wulf grinned. "They never stood a chance!"

"Indeed! And don't forget the part where I saved the day. Again." Nadimon raised his eyebrows at Marcel.

"You ran off on me." Marcel grimaced. "You aren't getting a badge for that."

"I came back later, didn't I?"

"You didn't! Sakon saved me!" Marcel pointed at the stocky man.

"Because I told him you were there. I did my part. We all did. That's how we saved the day!" Nadimon grinned.

"That's enough of you two. Everyone saved the day... by working with me!" Wulf laughed. "We've defeated that bird and his master beyond a shadow of reasonable do-"

"Bird at starboard!"

"...nevermind."

"What's the plan?"

"Nothing. I'm out of ideas." the inu shrugged. "Anyone got any clues? We've used up the grenades, the bullets, the ropes... he knows about the Mark-7 Creep MagnifierTM (Patent Pending). Right now, my strategy is to sit down, put our heads between our knees... and kiss our asses goodbye." he sighed.

"That's a terrible strategy!" Marcel snarled.

"That's an order, soldier! CURL LIKE YOU'VE NEVER CURLED BEFORE! EVERYONE CURL! CURL LIKE YOU WANT TO LICK YOUR TAINT!"

Marcel rubbed his face as the captain got on a chair, did a split, and then started raising his legs harder, and harder, and harder...

"What are you waiting for? THAT'S AN ORDER SOLDIER!"

======

Clenching his fists, Orion was done playing nice. Like he should've done from the start, he was going to down that goddamn thing if that was the last he did. He stood up atop Pollo's head as the latter hesitated with every flapping of its wings.

"Just a little longer, Pollo. Just a little longer. We're almost upon them..." he snarled, looking at the walls of Negav in the horizon. "I'm gonna get you this time. We'll just shoot that thing right out of the sky."

He sat on his heels.

"We'll shoot it right off the sky." he said, as there was a bright flash in the distance, coming from the walls of Negav. "We'll shoot lightning bolts at it until it explodes-"

BOOM!

"-and goes boom." he smiled. Then he realized there was a large empty space straight underneath him. Blinking, he looked around, seeing an exploded cloud of yellow feathers. Looking back down, he saw the ground, very far away, and Pollo wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Uh-oh."