Northyros: March of the Death-Mammoths

[Mizagium]

Tusk Horrorbell withstood Zac’s characters’ attack using her elite villan skills. First, she sidestepped Zento’s sword thrust. Next, she open-palm smashed the top of Dorrei’s trident, intending to alter the angle of its thrust so that it would stick in the ground. Also maybe that she and Zento would collide with each other. The bullet that the Viking guy fired simply disintegrated once it came near her as a result of the wither field.

That left Sarina as the only real threat at the moment. Well, there was Jeff, but he hasn’t been a real threat since like…Centros. I mean, seriously, what kind of Immortal-in-training is he, anyway? Not a very good one, I’ll tell you what. So anyway, I’ll just let him continue to be useless for moment and have his girlfriend (or something) have all the fun.

Tusk considered casting another Wither field at her, but as the last one appeared to have no effect, she simply conjured her weapons – pretty sick looking metal gauntlets – and met Sarina’s attack with a parry.

“What…are you…? You…are resistant…to my…Wither.”

[Calefrun]

Zento and Dorrei collided, I guess. They toppled to the ground and landed in a heap on top of one another. There was some grunting, after which the pair slowly rose to their feet.

Dorrei looked at her subordinate incredulously. "You certainly took your time getting up. One might almost suspect that you were enjoying that."

Ignoring her, Zento withdrew a small canteen from the inner folds of his jacket. He took a swig, and instantly his muscles bulged and his hair somehow got even spikier. In an instant, he appeared directly in front of Tusk, crouched between Sarina and the womanmoth. With a shout, he thrust his sword upwards towards the enemy's chest.

Meanwhile, the viking (his name is Welkin, by the way), had holstered his pistol. "Ignore me, will you? Fine, then. Try this instead!" He drew his twin axes and leapt into the air over Tusk. "Now roar, Manmosunokiba!" His axes suddenly grew into large, unwieldy weapons, which looked completely impractical and were covered in spikes. He brought the ridiculous things down on Horrorbell's head, and some music started or something.

[Monika]

"Me?" Sarina looked at Tusk as if she didn't fully understand the question. "I'm just an ordinary human who's been through a lot." She smirked as the Death Womanmoth blocked her attack, just as Sarina was expecting. The girl rarely ever used her sword for actual attacks; she hadn't even sharpened it in several months. Its true purpose was to serve as a distraction. While Sarina kept her sword pressed against Tusk's gauntlets, the snow around them rose into the air and froze into ice blades, flying at Tusk from every direction (from which she was not already being attacked, anyway).

[Mizagium]

Disappointing

How could this have happened to her? An evolved Death Mammoth? Her master's voice echoed in her mind, disappointing. She was a disappointment, after all, a weak reject, unsuitable for anything but experiments, for improving the process for those that followed. She was a lab rat, nothing more, given a chance to prove herself - and this was to be her end. Disappointing.

No! She was not a failure, she was a Death Mammoth, as good as her peers. This would not be her end, but her beginning.

"Transmogrification: Become Despair!" Tusk Horrorbell exploded. Sariana's ice blades sailed through a cloud of smoke, and Welkin's Manmosunokiba blades slammed into the ground, ineffectually.

The darkness spread to cover the sky, reaching down to bound a roughly circular area under a dome of shadows. It grew deeper and deeper, swallowing the sun until complete darkness encompassed the adventurers.

"I see," her voiced whispered from the abyss, "I see your hearts. Now...show me your fear."

-

Jeff had tried, he really had, but Tusk Horrorbell's darkness expanded too quickly. His barriers had been useless, as porous as a wet napkin, and now he was alone, lost in shadows.

"Hey!" he called. "You guys? We weren't that far apart. Where are you?" But there was no answer. He walked, slowly at first, feeling for something, anything in the black. Nothing there was nothing to feel, to see. Nobody. Yet, he could see his hands and body, as if they alone exuded enough light to reach his eyes, but not illuminate the world.

He pressed on, unsure if he was even moving forward at all.

"Show me," a voice whispered.

"What?"

"She's gone," a different, familiar voice answered.

"Who's gone?"

"Samantha, Jeff. The police can't find her."

"But...no, I just saw her." Jeff tried to look back, only to find more darkness. "We just..."

"They said her room was a mess, like someone broke in. They think..." his mother's voice broke, holding back tears. "They think it was a kidnapping."

"That's not possible." He looked at the cell phone in his hand. It blinked at him, indicating a voice message. From Sam, it said. "She just left me a message." But his parents weren't listening any longer, too consumed by their own grief.

He fled the house, returning to the tree by the river where they always played as kids. There he collapsed, put the phone to his ear, and let the message play - over and over.

"She's never coming back. Not ever. She's become something else. Samantha Valentine died, Jeff. She's dead. Dead."

[Calefrun]

Zento jumped back from Tusk, but even in his awakened state he wasn't fast enough to avoid her attack.

“The fuck is this?” he demanded of the abyss, but no response came. He slashed his sword around in attempt to cut through the darkness that surrounded him, but to no avail. “Great... so how do we get out of this one?”

Suddenly he heard a female voice whisper, “It's... been a while... Zento Calfrun...” He looked around, but was unable to find the speaker, though it seemed as though the source of the voice was right beside his ear. And while he didn't quite recognize the speaker, there was something... uncomfortably familiar about the voice.

“Who... who the hell are you?” he growled, “show yourself, dammit!”

The owner of the voice laughed. It was a sweet-sounding laugh, but something about it set the teenaged swordsman on edge. “Who... am I?” she repeated. “You must be more out of it than I thought. Did you stay up late training again last night? Or...”

A shadowy, humanoid figure appeared a short distance away from Zento. When the voice spoke again, it seemed to originate from this being. “Or did you really forget about me?”

Many more shadows appeared in a circle around him, and he raised his blade in a defensive stance. The voice continued, “Did you... could you have forgotten all of us?” In unison, the figures took a step closer.

“Stay back!” Zento yelled, beginning to feel a fear creeping into him, deeper than any he had felt since waking up in Ausum Land after completing his hundred years of training.

“Why..?” the main figure asked, its tone taking on a hint of sorrow, “Why are you pointing your sword at me again? Haven't you already hurt me enough?”

Zento felt a hand grab his shoulder, and he whipped around to find an old man standing behind him. While the others were shrouded in darkness, this man was clearly visible, and when he recognized who it was he felt his blood turn to ice.

“M-Master?!?”

---

“Hello?” Dorrei called out as she walked aimlessly through the void. She received no response, but as she marched onward she noticed that the nothingness beneath her boots started feeling a lot less like nothing and more like solid ground. She continued forward, but without warning her foot caught on something in front of her and she tripped. Her hands moved reflexively to break her fall and keep her head from hitting the hard stone walkway.

There was a splash as her hands entered a puddle of some sort, and upon inspection of her right palm she found that it was covered in blood. She turned to see what she had tripped over, and saw the broken corpse of a Squid lying crumpled in the middle of the road. Looking farther ahead, she saw several more of the dead; some were sprawled out on their own, while others were heaped into large piles.

A loud noise shook the ruins of nearby buildings and forced Dorrei to cover her ears. Moments later a giant, mechanical shrimp flew over her head, moving straight towards the council chamber of the City Under the Sea. Once it had passed she removed her hands from her ears, and noticed the sound of gunfire coming from a nearby alley.

She followed it, and found a trail of Squids that had been reanimated by the Shrimpers, only to have been killed once more while trying to reach a barricaded area in the back of the alleyway.

“Is... is someone alive back there?” she yelled, desperate to find another living Squid.

A man rose from behind the barrier, holding a large pistol which he had trained on Dorrei. He had long, silver hair that was ragged and stained with blood, and wore casual-looking clothing that had been all but torn to shreds.

“C-Cale? Is that you?”

The man lowered his gun. “Wait... Dorrei?” he lowered his weapon, vaulted over his barricade, and ran to embrace her. “I... I thought I'd lost you again!”

She tearfully returned the embrace. “Cale, what... how did this happen? Is anyone else still alive?”

He let go of her and took a few steps back. Without meeting her gaze, he said, “You're the first living person I've seen in... well, days. I... I'm sorry, Dorrei. I couldn't protect them.”

“No, that can't...” she dropped to her knees. “What about the other Council members? Do you think they could have taken some of their people and escaped?”

Cale shook his head. “The attack was too sudden. Some people might have gotten out, but I wouldn't count on it.” Pulling back a jacket sleeve, he showed her a broken device wrapped around his wrist. “This was damaged during the first hour of the attack, so I wasn't able to use a portal to go looking for people strong enough to help us.” He walked past Dorrei into the street and spotted the Shrimper that was latched onto the council building.

“There were probably survivors hiding out in there,” he muttered. “The shrimpers are... harvesting us. I did everything I could to keep this from happening, but I failed. And as a result our city is in ruins and are people are being slaughtered.” With a wry laugh, he added, “Some Illusive Squid I turned out to be. Say what you will about my grandfather, at least our people weren't hunted to extinction while he held the title.”

He cocked his pistol. “I'm going to try to stop that one at the council building. It won't make a difference in the end, but it's not like I'm getting out of this city alive anyway. I wanna at least take of them down with me.” After a pause, he added, “Guess I won't be getting to see Stella again after all. Well, them's the breaks.”

He took off running, and Dorrei called out after him, “Cale! Wait!” She ran back out into the street, but he was already out of view. “Dumbass...” she muttered, “how the hell could anyone have been prepared for this kind of situation? Besides, if anything I should have trained with you more instead of getting myself killed by a damn robot.”

She looked around and saw countless other Shrimpers; some were flying about the city in search of survivors, while others where latched onto crumbling structures.

“Dammit!” she spat before starting to run towards the council building.

---

“Welkin... what... what are you?” The young woman backed away slowly, a look of pure terror in her eyes.

The village chief pointed and yelled, “Those are Death Mammoth tusks! I don't know what kind of sorcery this is, but you've become a danger to us all!”

Welkin laughed. “So, am I supposed to be impressed?”

“What was that?!?”

“Oh, be quiet. I'm not talking to you.” He swung Manmosunokiba at the figures before him, dispelling the illusion and returning to the empty abyss that all of the characters had been sent to.

“I'm already reminded of that day every time I see one of you damned mammoths. If you want me to show you my fear, why don't you try and give me something to really be afraid of? COME OUT AND FACE ME, MAMMOTH SCUM!”

---

“Bicycle Gang, huh?” Jack mused, “I might have stolen from 'em once or twice. Doesn't really make a difference. We can figure out what they want while we're busting out of here, yeah?”

He drew a card. “6 of Hearts... telepathic prediction, is it? Well, that will be useful if we get into a fight, at least. For now though... lead on, I guess.”

[Monika]

As darkness swallowed the land and overtook the adventurers, Sarina watched as her fellow heroes were each thrust into their own nightmare world. The tiniest hint of fear crept over her. She had already lived through a war in the Null-Void - the embodiment of existential nothingness. What could be more frightening than that? If the other members of her party were facing their worst fears, what lied in store for Sarina?

"Hmph. If I'm not your worst fear, then clearly I didn't do my job well enough," a voice whispered from the shadows behind her.

Sarina froze. That small hint of fear swept throughout her body and paralyzed her; she dared not turn around for fear of what she might see.

But the voice insisted. "Turn around," it demanded. "Face me when I'm addressing you. Or do I need to add disobedience to a long list of your failures as a subordinate?"

Finally, she relented. The fear of facing the entity lost out against the fear of what would happen if she didn't. With a sharp gulp of air, she slowly spun around and her worst suspicions were confirmed. There he was. The dark, purple and gold robe that signified royalty. The unholy short sword that had once been one of the untouchable sacred treasures of her country. The oppressive aura of tainted magical energy that surrounded him. It was none other than Leon Veralice. Emperor Veralice. Powerful. Imposing. He struck fear into the hearts of opponents and supporters alike, and Sarina was no exception.

"Atta girl," he sneered. "Maybe you aren't as worthless as I thought."

"L-Lord Veralice!" Sarina began, "I-I didn't-"

"Silence. Do not speak unless I've given you permission. That's Military Conduct 101. Honestly, what was I thinking letting a teenage girl into the army?"

"Lord Veralice, please, I-"

"I make you my Lieutenant General. I let you stay in my tower. And how do you repay me?" Veralice asked. When no response came, he scoffed. "Can't even answer a simple question. Then allow me to remind you. You were useless in the battle with the Time Keeper. You failed to stop the insurrection at the hands of those three fools who would call themselves kings. You couldn't even prevent the creation of a simple Taco Bell, the one threat to my complete nationalization of private enterprise!"

"I-I'm sorry, Lord Veralice, I..." Sarina sank to the ground, vainly searching for something to say - anything that might appease the emperor. But nothing came to her, and she lied on the cold, dark floor, waiting for the torment to end.

"Can't even stand on your own two feet. Pathetic," Emperor Veralice spat, sharply kicking the girl's body like it was an unsightly piece of trash in the street. "Maybe it was a mistake to rescue you from that household. Maybe I should send you back to that abusive father of yours, hmm? Whatever he'd do to you is far gentler than what I will..."

But Sarina said nothing, rocking back and forth on the ground, praying for light to return to this darkness.

[Myrdraxxis]

Magnus gazed around at the dark empty void that stretched out around him, sighing softly as he did.

"Really now, are we actually doing this old cliché?" He began to walk as he muttered, his words failing to pierce the oppressive silence of the realm. He had been about to step in to the fight with the odd new death mammoth whatever she was, when this had been sprung on them. Admittedly he didn't think that the beasts were capable of this kind of power. Transdimensional teleportation was some serious magic and it was somewhat absurd to think that a death mammoth was capable of it. In fact, it was completely absurd.

Magnus paused, glancing around. So, not teleportation then?

Hmm. Magnus stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Then the whispers started.

"Ah." Magnus sighed distastefully. "Mind effecting magic. Of course."

That declared, Magnus suddenly became aware that he was no longer alone. The mage wasn't sure when, but just at the edge of his vision figures had begun to appear. Magnus sighed again as more figures, gray ghost-like and withered began to fill the darkness. Hundreds of them. Then thousands. All silently staring at him.

"Oh come now, that's just in bad taste." Magnus said to them. They didn't reply, of course. Magnus didn't expect them to. The ghosts were nondescript and faceless until Magnus focused on an individual, which would suddenly gain features. Magnus could recognize each one. How could he not? Their faces were seared into his memory ever since he had killed them all.

Magnus didn't dwell on his immortality if he could help it. It just brought back the memories of the thousands of souls sacrificed to power it. It had never been his intention to gain immortality. Hell, he'd been trying to stop the man enacting the ritual. His "great moment of heroism". Magnus had killed the one responsible, but the ritual still happened. Thousands still died, and Magnus had reaped the benefits.

Magnus looked around, expression growing weary as the legion around him gazed back impassively. The influx of souls into him had nearly driven Magnus completely mad, their whispers and accusations needling into his skull until Magnus had leearned to control it and the souls' personalities had faded into echoes and silence.

'Are you sure you didn't go insane?' the thought crept through his mind suddenly, causing Magnus to pause mid-step.

'How would you even know?'

"Oh please." Magnus muttered and stalked onward, no direction in mind.

'You ignore it, ignore your memories in favor of constant travel to escape your fears.' The voice gleefully continued.

Magnus paused again. The ghosts had formed a clear path for him to walk through, and now that path was lined with gravestones. Each with a name that Magnus recognized from his wanderings. He sighed heavily.

'You seek out others in your travels, to ward off solitude. But you know that it will not last. Eventually you will remain, alone. And with that solitude will come madness."'

"Ugh, this is getting annoying." Magnus said aloud. "Gotta be a focal point to this somewhere." Magnus squinted, looking into the distance. He spotted a pinprick of light in the distance and began walking again. Walking quicker now, and pointedly not looking around him.

[Mizagium]

"She's never coming back. Not ever. She's become something else. Samantha Valentine died, Jeff. She's dead. Dead."


"N...no." The truth dawned him, suddenly, the faintest drop of rain as the clouds rolled in for a spring shower. No. Samantha wasn't dead. He'd just been with her, just seen her. Despair turned to confusion turned to anger.

Jeff hauled himself to his feet, found the park a grayed out indistinct mass of shapes. This wasn't right. Nothing was.

"She's alive," he told his phone, which was still playing the message over and over. "She's alive!"

As if in response, the phone cut off and emitted a sound like frying electronics before a new message played, one he recognized.

"Hey, kiddo," Samantha began with forced levity. Jeff had never been fooled by that: he'd heard the urgency and sadness in her words. "I just...I wanted to let you know that I'm leaving. I wish I could have said so in person, but...things aren't so good. It's - I can't tell you. God, this isn't how I wanted it to go. It was just research, and then it got out of hand. I dug too deep. I'm sorry. Jeff, I don't mean to dump this on you, but I had to tell somebody. They're coming for me, Jeff. I don't...know who, exactly, but they've been poking around campus lately. I think they know who I am. So I have to leave and I'm taking all my research. I'm so sorry, but you'll have to tell mom and dad that - no, wait, you can't tell them anything. It's better if you don't know: that way, when they ask you - and they're going to come to the house - you won't have to lie. Delete this message, Jeff, once you're through. Delete it and - and - smash the phone. Burn it. Throw it in a river or something - I don't know, but you can't let them think you know anything. I wish this could have turned out better, but it didn't. I have to go, and I have to see this through. I don't think we'll ever see each other again. Goodbye."

She has been right on one account, at least: they did come to the house. Men and women in black suits. Government maybe. Or something else. They said Samantha had been involved in and "incident". Her dorm room had been raided, they said, possibly a robbery. They searched the house for clues, for something they thought might be there, but Samantha had made sure would never be found. They never thought to question the brother, never once bothered with him. Jeff hadn't done as Sam had asked. He'd kept the phone and transferred the message to his new phone. He'd kept her last, hauntly cryptic message with him until now.

The world blurred a little more. Characters becoming gray humanoid blobs, like NPCs in a video game. As he watched, they repeated the same motions over and over, slowing until it all wound down.

He wasn't free, not yet, but he had come to recognize the illusion, which was a start.

"The others are here, too," he thought - and then voiced out loud, if only to hear something in this gray, silent world. "I have to find them."

A path seemed to appear for him, as though the world itself parted to show him the way forward. Uncertainly, Jeff started down the path.

[Sariel of Tevet]

Transmogrification: Become Despair!

The words echoed through our magnificent hero's royal ears. And he was unamused. Unabashed. Unwhelmed. Un...decided? What? Well this got out of hand quickly. I'm sorry sir, it must be all this despair leaving my narrating abilities in disrepair. Hmm, actually no, that sounded quite decent. Maybe we can get through this aft.....

"Narrator?"

...

"Hello?"

...

"Are...did you you disappear? Am I alone?"

...

"Right-o! I suppose I am all alone. No matter. I shall just be my own narrator."

...

"Drat. I thought you would have called my bluff. No matter! I wander around the...despair place. I am looking for some sort of way...out? Is that what poor people do? Sure. Let us go with that! I am looking for a way out and I run into a....wait. Someone is here? You didn't tell me that! Or..uh..I didn't tell myself that. Who are you! Answer yourself peasant! I point at you with my royal codpiece sticking out."

A awkwardly sultry figure appeared out of the shadows, which was very difficult to do in a room that was nothing but shadows. A typical sailor costume came into view, somewhat tattered. A large beer belly was hung over the top of the skirt, and not with care, and just as hairy as the scruffy face that came with it all. Sailor Solar finished his entrance and held up a piece sign for The Dayman, matching the gesture with a wink and deep giggle.

"Hello, Prince Ali.........mighty is he......Ali Ababwa!"

"I am not amused!! I point to my codpiece and tell you how royal I am, and that no knock off, genie fueled hack could be deserving of such a title! I take a deep, royal breath, and then begin to berate you for the use of my nickname. I would ruffle my brow at you, but royalty could ill afford such defacing gestures. So I would ask that you address me as if I am looking at you incredulously."

Sailor Solar swiveled his hips as he did circles around The Dayman, and lightly caressing his royal body.

"I am sorry dear, I forgot how much we hate being called that sometimes." He tucked his hand under The Dayman's robustly royal chin and tried to hold it tenderly.

"I will refrain from calling you that in the future. "

"I step back away from you, which is odd for royalty to back pedal but I do it anyway, but in a manly fashion! And not your manly fashion, because that sailor costume has no taste! Or codpiece! Also, I realize and point my finger up in an 'ah ha' motion, why did you say we? We are not a we, I am an I. I pace back and forth trying to make sense of this madness. Hey, I am getting better at this narrating stuff. I might fire the other guy."

Sailor Solar conjured up a chair, pushed The Dayman down into it, and sat on his lap. "Because dear, I am Sailor Solar. This is what you, I mean we, become in the future. After you lose your codpiece, as well as everything else. You will have no one. This is what becomes of you."

"I stand up, knocking Sailor Solar to the floor and forcing a strangely gratuitous panty shot, and gasp. I do a lot of royal gasping, many royal breathes are expelled with all the gasping. You can't be me! This isn't canon!"

[Myrdraxxis]

The death-mammoth was fast, but against all odds and (and narrative tension), Felix was faster. He casually sidestepped the Hand of Death that Grimmtusk sent his way. Then he charged. If there was one thing he learned from fighting drunken madmen and other such abominations, it was to get in close before they could fire their acidic phlegm at you or throw sharp glass at your eyes. Or in this case, get to close for that ranged Hand of Death attack.

Felix lunged, slicing through Grimmtusk's arm (that is, the big one, currently arm wrestling Gale), and then shot a column of fire at the Death Manmoth's face.

"Come at me bro."

---

The mooketeers stood back to back as they took in their new surroundings. It was a blank nothingness. Leske was the first to speak, after a long moment of waiting.

"Well, er, ideas guy?"

"This seems very out of our league." Ash commented.

"I guess we could start walking." Desmond replied, eyeing the inky blackness around them nervously. "I'm not sure what that thing did, but standing around waiting probably isn't a good idea."

"Agreed." Leske said and the three picked a direction and started walking. They had only been walking for several minutes before Leske spoke up again. "Okay, it just keeps going. You guys see any way out?"

There was no response. "Guys?" Leske turned around to find himself alone. Ash and Desmond had vanished.

"It's pathetic that even in a space such as this, you rely on others." A voice spoke.

"Who's there?!" Leske conjured a rifle (his magic still worked? Good to know) and pointed it randomly.

"I suppose it is to be expected of someone like you." The voice was deep, and had a mechanical growl to it that set Leske's nerves on edge.

--

"Someone like me?" Ash growled, clutching his knife nervously. He looked around, but all he saw was the same blank surroundings.

"A nobody." The voice responded. The voice was soft, and gravelly. Disturbingly familiar. "Someone who should have just been content to live his life as an unnoticed background character."

The void shifted and warped, and then changed. Houses and streets formed, and Ash began to recognize Hero's Refuge. His home. The start of all of this for him and his two friends. Wisps appeared, that become people, wandering through the streets, going about their normal lives.

--

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Desmond spun around, searching for the voice as he walked through the street of his old home. Hero's Refuge had been all but destroyed by the fighting with the Mechanist King's army, and while he'd never voiced it out loud, he missed his home dearly. Since Magnus had taken the younger man under his wing, there hadn't really been time to just stop and think about what had happened.

"Deep down you know that you aren't like Magnus, or the others. You're just some random guy that a powerful man took pity on." the voice mocked. It sounded hollow, empty. It echoed in a way that unnerved Desmond. He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter.

"I get by just fine." he replied.

"Just fine is not enough, and you know it." he voice fired back quickly. "Trying to be more than you are will be your downfall."

"Yeah? And just who the hell are you anyway?"

Out of the ethereal crowd of people, a figure stepped forward. Desmond took a step back. The man was garbed head to toe in heavy plate armor. Desmond's armor. It was pitted and cracked. Rusted. What shocked Desmond most was the faceplate. Desmond could not see a face inside of the helmet: the suit of armor was empty, save for a pair of balefully glowing eyes.

--

"You're punching above your weight-class, Ash." The man cackled at the shocked mooketeer. THe figure standing opposite of the shadow mage was Ash's exact duplicate. A duplicate that someone had twisted and turned into a nightmare caricature of the man. Half of this Ash's body was covered in pure Darkness, that writhed across the skin and jutted out at spiked intervals along his arm and side. Half of this Ash's face of warped into a leering grin with too many teeth and horns, and a eye that glowed yellow with gleeful malice.

"Hell of a sight, huh?" Not-Ash, chuckled, a sound that froze Ash's blood. "I'm what waits for you. Your arrogance and stubbornness to keep trying to be more than the simple man you are. You should have stayed in Hero's Refuge." The beast said accusingly. "There was plenty you could have done to help, there. Instead you went and got yourself completely screwed." Unconsciously Ash touched the sealed wound on his shoulder. "Behold the result!"

--

"I am what awaits you." Leske stared up in horror at the giant thing that towered over him. Leske wasn't sure how to describe it. A massive machine, standing on four legs with a mass of writhing wires and cables that seemed almost tentacle-like, in their eldritch movements. "You dared to step foot into this dangerous world, and you will reap the consequences of daring to reach for what wasn't yours to take."

Ephantus let out a rasping, metallic laugh. "I am your future."

[Mizagium]

Vespi had exited cover to watch Gale and Grimmtusk’s arm-wrestling match. It was going on for a while – longer than it should have, honestly. Yet, they appeared to be evenly matched, at least until Felix severed the Manmoth’s hand. Then Gale was winning. He slammed the severed hand into the ground, then without missing a beat, scooped it up with his wind hands, and – after Felix’s fire blasted Grimmtusk in the face – proceeded to her savagely – I mean heroically – beat the Death Manmoth to death. Or something. Several Death Hand slaps in and Grimmtusk stopped moving.

Vespi stood fully and dusted herself off. “Well, good job team,” she congratulated Bill Nye and Galle Kah and Noores I guess. “We did the thing.”

Gallen Kah sniffed and looked around. “We certainly did a thing, but I’m not sure it was the thing.”

Vespi shrugged. “Well, the monster is dead and Zais’ forces are retreating, so I can only conclude we won.”

“Wait what?” Gallen Kah looked around suddenly, taking in the burned, but abandoned war camp. “I, uh, guess we did?”

Bill Nye clapped his old friend on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. Come now. Let’s go home and tell Artemis of our heroic efforts. Gale?”

“Avast!” Gale slammed the corpse one last time and dropped the severed hand – then magnificently front flipped, landing amidst his comrades. “Good show, all.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get out of this place,” Vespi muttered, “it doesn’t feel like anything important is happening.”

“Tell me about it,” Gallen Kah agreed, and opened a portal back to Super Land. One by one they filed in (Noores can take his time, I guess). Vespi, despite her haste, lingered a moment, squinting at the horizon.

“Wha?” She wandered away from the group. A glowing spot in the distance, like a distant flicker of flame beckoned her. There wasn’t anything that should have caught her attention, yet she was inexplicably drawn to it. Her frown deepened, but do did her curiosity. Her body immolated, and a living fire raced over the land. Suddenly the distant flame flared, and raced towards her. Vespi almost didn’t register, but she halted suddenly and dropped out of her fire form.

The bolt of fire continued on, struck her – images forced themselves into her mind, of two women, both of whom she was familiar; of a host of brilliant lights, fourteen, parts of a whole; of another, cloaked shadowed, chasing the fragments; of something…else – and passed through, disappearing.

Vespi stumbled and gasped for breath. “Johnny!” she called after the fire, but the horizon was dark, and lonely. With new purpose, Vespi raced back over the horizon, and disappeared in a rush of fire.

[Myrdraxxis]

Onward, he walked. The darkness continued to expand out in front of Magnus as he set one foot in front of the other, each step more laborious than the last. He wasn’t tired. Not really. Not in the physical sense. Technically, he didn’t think he could get tired in this metaphysical landscape.

Yet, still this place began to wear on him.

It was shameful to admit. Magnus prided himself on his ability to endure. After over seven hundred years of life, he could safely say he was prepared to encounter most situations and deal with them. This place was a blow to his pride. Seriously, when was the last time he’d been hit with a mind spell of all things?

That’s what he got for being arrogant.

’How much longer will you walk?’ The voice from the darkness asked him. Was it actually a voice? That would imply a sentience behind this spell. Or at least directive from the caster. But others had been caught in it as well. So unless that death mammoth could split its attention to such a degree-

’You ponder, to distract yourself.’

Hmm. Using his own subconscious against him them. A predictable mind magic trick.

“You’re really annoying; you know that?” Magnus spoke, mostly just to fill the silence. The ghosts of long past souls never uttered a word, staring at Magnus as he walked towards the pin-pick of light in the distance. It never seemed to draw any closer.

How long had he been walking?

Did it matter in a place like this?

More to the point, why exactly was he walking?

Magnus paused in his stride, sighing. This was a magical spell effect. One designed to trap its victim inside. Simply walking out of it would be ridiculous. He knew that. It was very obvious. Yet he’d just spent gods know how long walking down this path while the spell had its fun, throwing macabre scene after macabre scene at him.

The ghosts of his victims were ever-present. Whenever the dark void twisted to add some new sort of memory, they were there; Wordless phantoms. Magnus had made his peace with that incident and the thousands of souls that he had consumed to gain this wretched immortality. It had taken him several centuries to do so, but these days Magnus tended to take a more relaxed stance towards life. Hell, not too long ago he’d summoned up these guys to fight the Dayman’s army in the tournament.

He wasn’t scared of them. So then why did he keep walking?

There had to be an easier way to break out of this, so why…

” It is not the victims of your past that haunt you.”

Magnus gave a glare up towards nothing. “Yeah? Enlighten me then. You said that before.”

’You have made peace with your victims. But what of your friends?’

“Uh, what?” Magnus snorted. Was this serious the best it had? It was almost laughable. Convincing him he was going insane wasn’t working so he was going to attack Magnus with the power of friendship?

’They’re all dead, you know.’

Magnus frowned.

’So many names. So many faces. So many worlds. How much time has passed?’ The voice questioned. Magnus started walking again. ’You claim not to fear your solitude, but that is because you refuse to acknowledge it.’

“The hell I do.” Magnus muttered.

’Oh? Is that so?’

The world shifted, and Magnus paused mid-step as the scenery changed. The once barren path became a street. Darkness became buildings. Old, decrepit and war-torn. Magnus felt heat begin beating down on him from a sudden oppressive sun. Sand wisped across the streets with each gust of wind.

The village was a small one, but one that had seen more than its share of strife. Most windows were boarded up or simply broken and left there, jagged glass latticing the streets.

There were no people.

Not at first.

Even the ghosts had vanished, leaving Magnus standing the middle of this deserted street.

He frowned. Did he know this place? A quick glance around him and Magnus figured he was somewhere on Earth. An Earth, at any rate. The shop signs were all in Arabic.

Shapes began to take form. People, running in panic through the streets. A story began to unfold around Magnus. One that was horrible. Tragic. Far too common in this region. A violent struggle. The sound of gunfire. An explosion that wracked the already aching community. People screaming as armed figures fought their war with little regard to the lives around them. A shop-owner cowering in his store. A Father and daughter huddling in their house as rockets shook the building.

A young boy, standing in the middle of the street, sobbing over his dead parents. How had this happened? Why? They had just been going to the market for lunch. Both of his parents had finally had a day off to spend together with him. The fighting wasn’t even supposed to be happening this close by. So why? Why weren’t they moving?

Poor little Markis Ibrahim. A tragic footnote in the litany of blood that never seemed to end here.

’Do you even recall?’

Barely. Magnus watched the small boy stare at the two broken forms, their features barely visible to him.

’You don’t even remember their faces, do you?’

Of course not.

How could he? He was seven hundred years old. His parents had died when Markis was only a child. And the boy named Markis had ceased to be only a handful of years later. What connection did he still have to this life?

Why was he feeling so guilty about forgetting?

The scene vanished, and Magnus blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. The glaring, oppressive sun had been replaced by a small room. It was simple, Spartan in appearance with only a single dresser and desk in the corner, opposite the small bed. A teen sat on it, staring listlessly at nothing in particular.

Jet black hair had turned white from the shock to his system. Only a physical symptom of the storm of horror and disgust that churned inside of him.

Magnus, the older Magnus, leaned against the wall, watching his younger self as the boy muttered and occasionally twitched at random. It was a sorry sight. He remembered this. His older memories were a scattered thing, but this would always stick with him. The post-Chicago times before he’d become the Mage of the Beginning’s apprentice. It hadn’t been for very long, but he’d gone on the run. His master-his first master Qwaser- was dead. Magnus was the only villain left in this story, and he couldn’t face his actions. Hell, at this point the boy couldn’t even think straight.

The door of the small room creaked open and a figure walked into the room. Younger Magnus didn’t even notice.

“Jeez, from this perspective I sure do look like a mess.” Magnus muttered, frowning at the scene. The figure…he was familiar. In fact, he looked to be around Magnus-Markis’- age, with white hair and a staff strapped to his back. A mage.

The boy knelt beside Markis and said something that made the runaway flinch. There was more talking, but the words were lost in the silence that permeated this spell’s scenery. Markis was taking now, trembling and frantically shaking his head.

The other teen was patient and then simply smiled sadly. Markis blinked and looked at the boy.

Ethan. That was his name. Ethan Sorien.

Magnus sighed, and shut his eyes. An enemy turned ally at the very end. Ethan had found him. Him and his little band of heroes. Their faces flashed into his mind and Magnus smiled to himself. Man, he hadn’t thought about those days in a long time. He…honestly didn’t remember a whole lot about that Earth these days, aside from the incident surrounding his immortality. Oh, he remembered the blood magic he’d learned, his skills with weapons as a child soldier (which were irrelevant at this point) and other things, but names….faces…they tended to fade away.

When did he stop noticing that?

’Some gratitude, forgetting your friends.’ The Voice mocked.

“I didn’t forget.” Magnus growled, eyes snapping open. The scene had changed again. The room was gone, and so were Markis and Ethan. Now he stood aboard the bridge of a ship. Or rather, an airship. Faceless crew cheered and celebrated around him as another Magnus stood tall, basking in victory. This version of him didn’t look so different: A slightly different coat, maybe a slight change of hairstyle. Magnus tended to keep his appearance static. He liked have one constant in his life.

Others joined Magnus as he stood before the viewport, taking in the vast world stretched out before him. It was always breathtaking, seeing a new world. The people who joined him on the bridge were a rag-tag looking group. Mages-knights, necromancers, soldiers.

]’You were their commander. Everyone on this ship looked up to your leadership. How did you repay them?’

“I did my job here. I don’t see the problem.” Magnus frowned.

’You left. The moment the perceived crisis had passed. How quickly you abandon those that claim comradery to you.’

“The Celestials were gone. They didn’t need my help anymore.” Magnus defended, tearing his gaze away from the group. “They got on just fine without me.”

’Is that what you tell yourself to assuage your guilt?’

“Oh please.” Magnus scoffed.

’What of these then, hmm?’

The people around Magnus disappeared, replaced by far more familiar people. Leske, Ash and Desmond. Septimus and Jeff. Sarina and the Dayman. Dorrei and Zento.

’Will you walk away, once you’re done playing around with these people? Like always?’

The people vanished, and Magnus was surrounded by a field of headstones. Names scrawled across each one, a fallen friend. A distant memory. A piece of the past.

’Is it not because of your own weakness that you abandon them? You cannot stand to see them wither away and die as you remain. So you run away.’

“None of your damn business.” Magnus grunted, shutting his eyes again.

’Magnus the Traveler. Here one day and gone the next.’ The Voice taunted. ’Here just long enough to touch people’s lives and then leave them behind without a second thought.’

“You know, you really talk too much.”

’How many times has this song and dance repeated itself? How much longer will it?’ The taunting continued. Magnus let out a long sigh. He didn’t open his eyes. Instead, he concentrated. Almost. He was almost there. Just a little more…

’What lies at the end of this road, expect oblivion? Even if you cannot age, death is still an option you know. What other option is there really? To continue on forever, until every realm of creation is dust? Until you’re so numb inside that life is a chore?’

“You sure seem to think you know me.” Magnus said, and then smirked.

Found it.

He raised a hand, which glowed with silvery light as he began to cast.

’What?’

The world exploded with light.

When Magnus opened his eyes the darkness had gone. The field of graves had been wiped away, but this place was not empty. Gone were the grim reminders of death. Of inevitability. In their places hovered a field of pictures. Photos, paintings, holographic images. All various and distinct ways of recording pictures from all times imaginable, depending on what world Magnus had been on at the time.

They all hovered around Magnus, gathering around. The man reached out and gently picked one, gazing at it fondly.

Each picture was of someone. A person or a group of people that Magnus recognized. The one in his hand was a photo of Ethan Sorien in the middle of a small group: Sofia, Adden, Yolanda, Rolan. Dark Wing. The first time Magnus had ever believed in heroes. In many ways he had them to thank for the man he was today. THem and so many others.

The next picture was one of Willard: The Mage of the Beginning. His mentor, his friend and another great influence on Magnus' long, long life. Without Willard none of this would have been possible. THe man had taught Magnus how to Travel, and opened his eyes to just how vast the world was.

A third hovered past. An old-timey black and white photo of Nathaniel Sorien and his retinue, flanked by their comrades. His comrades in arms against the inevitable darkness. Magnus had been proud to fight alongside Ethan's descendant and the man's friends.

So many names came to his mind as he looked around at the pictures. His memories of those long gone.

Hecate. Cole. Ezeriah. Arrick. Malcolm. Severin. Klien. Ophia. Walker. Anya. Niles. Varaask. Kazan. Leske. Hioma. Ash. Septimus. Jeff. Desmond. The Dayman. Aldryan. Dorian. Codex. Varona.

Hundreds of names and faces.

All of them memories that he kept here.

“You think you know me, but I never forgot. Ever. Not any of these people.” Magnus spoke softly, eyes sweeping across the field of memories.

There was a long silence and then, ’What did you do?’

“I let you think you had a chance.” Magnus chuckled, plucking another picture for the air and admiring it. A scene of him and several others grinning at the camera as they drank themselves stupid in some bar. “You were distracted, showing me and the others all of these things. Too distracted to hide the source of this spell.”

Magnus waved a hand and a small glowing orb appeared. It was the source of magic powering this spell. Or at least, the representation of it. He wasn’t sure how Death Mammoths operated, but for any sort of effect like this to work, it required a seed to be planted in the target’s mind. With sufficient magic, it was easy to overcome and break it. If one had enough magic, they could even cause a breakdown effect and cancel out the entre spell on whoever it had control over.

And Magnus had a lot of magic indeed.

’This changes nothing.’

“Maybe. You aren’t entirely wrong.” Magnus conceded. “But you know what? I’m damn old and it will be a cold day in hell before I let an upstart like you go and lecture me.” He chuckled.

’Fine. Laugh it off. Go on and hide from the truth-‘

“Oh please.” Magnus rolled his eyes. He reached out and touched the Source, then paused. He took a final fond glance at the illusory world. “Don’t be so damn dramatic.”

Then he flooded magic into the anchor, and the world shattered.

[Mizagium]

Jeff never reached the end of the path of light. He might have, as determination swelled within him, but he didn’t reach the end because the darkness around his shattered suddenly. Northryos’ gray landscape rushed up to greet him disorientingly quickly and he stumbled. The real world was actually not as bright as the light he’d been walking to, but that was probably something he should have expected. He didn’t expect Magnus to be standing there, looking annoyed. Well, he should have expected that, too.

There was no way he should have expected to see his sister straddling the Death Mammoth, hands clasped around the creature’s throat. Samantha had somehow brought Tusk Horrorbell to the ground and descended upon her, intending to strangle the life out of the monster. Tusk struggled to free herself, pulling at Sam’s hands and twisting in her grip. Despite the difference in height and mass, Tusk couldn’t seem to escape.

“P-Please,” Tusk gasped.

“I told you,” Sam growled, voice low and harsh, like the advancing stormwall of a hurricane. “I told you not to use that ability.”

“I – thought – I could – “

“You caught me in it.”

Jeff cleared his throat. “Sam, what are you doing?” She didn’t make any sign she’d heard him. “Hey, Sam, that’s enough.”

Tusk ‘s face paled and her struggles weakened. “I – I’m sorry – mistress.”

“Hey!” Jeff stomped over and took Samantha by the shoulder, pulling her around. Well, he tried to. She was heavier than she should have been, and resisted his grip. Confused and worried, he layered on barriers until the extra strength enabled him to yank her around.

Sam’s had nearest her brother left Tusk’s throat and found his, cutting off his air. “This. Doesn’t. Concern. You.” Then, incredibly, she threw him back, and he crashed into Magnus. Tusk almost managed to pry Sam’s hand away before the other returned.

“Do you know what you made me see?” Sam demanded, squeezing so hard, she felt bones crunch. Crushing Tusk’s neck would be easy, but after being caught in her despair field, she wanted to make this failure suffer.”

“Please – I – “

“Have I not suffered enough in my life?” Samantha demanded. “You made me relive it all! Me! How dare you do that to me!”

“Mistress – “

“I created you!” Sam leaned into the choke and nearly pressed her face to the Mammoth’s. “I lifted you and your kind up from nothing, brought sapience to you disgusting Mammoths. You were my finest creations, and you repay with despair?” Crunch. Tusk wasn’t able to speak anymore. Her face paled and started turning blue. “No apology will erase your sin, Tusk Horrorbell. The only punishment for you is that which I mete out with my own hands.”

With one final spasm, Tusk Horrorbell stopped moving. Her eyes unfocused and she went limp. Yet, Sam still choked the Mammoth, only relenting after she’d twisted Tusk’s head to a sickening angle that made it absolutely clear she wasn’t ever going to rise again. Realization seemed to dawn on her and she removed her hands and, without un-straddling Tusk, glared at Jeff and Magnus.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

[Myrdraxxis]

Magnus caught Jeff as the young man went tumbling into him, holding Jeff by the shoulder to steady them both. The mage stared at Samantha, crouched over the fresh corpse of Tusk Horrorbell. She looked barely recognizable, murder in her eyes and an almost feral, unstable air about her. How had he missed that?

Magnus inhaled and let out the breath in a long, slow sigh. "Oh, Samantha." he shook his head. He wished he was surprised. He really did. Instead there was simply a sense of jaded disappointment. "Sorry Jeff." He said. Still gripping Jeff's shoulder, he swung the boy around behind him, placing Jeff behind himself. Then Magnus raised his other hand, casting a spell.

A glowing magical circle appeared at Samantha's feet and arcane chains sprung forth from it, binding the woman in place.

"I think this is the part where I start asking questions, Magister" Magnus said. He didn't sound pleased. "What possessed you to turn these wretched mammoths into...people?"

As he spoke, Magnus noted that some of the others were beginning to wake up. Leske stirred first, rising to his feet and looking utterly confused. And terrified. Magnus caught the man's gaze and shook his head slightly, jerking his chin towards Samantha. Leske followed Mag nus' gaze and nodded hesitantly, conjuring a rifle.

[Calefrun]

"You've done well," the old man continued, "Which I'm afraid is more than I can say for the others. It looks like you might be the only one left."

Having not yet recovered from the initial shock of seeing his old master again, Zento struggled to find the words to respond. "Why... how... what do you mean? Jeff, Samantha, and everyone else... did something happen to them?"

The man, who's name Zento realized he could not recall, sighed sadly and shook his head. "Yes, I'd imagine after all that fierce fighting you might be a tad confused. The invasion... was a failure. I suppose I trained those kids a little too well; they managed to fend off the soldiers that I dedicated so many resources to create. Of course, it didn't help that they had such an apt leader. Honestly, who would have thought that Metri's daughter- Dorrei, I think it was- would be able to stand against me? If nothing else, she certainly earned the title of Illusive Squid today. I'll have to be sure that she's dealt with sooner or later."

He pulled on his long, white bead for a moment, lost in thought, then added, "Ah, but none of that stopped you, did it? Why, just take a minute to appreciate your handiwork!"

Confused, Zento turned back around to where the shadowy figures had been standing, only to find they, along with the darkness, had disappeared. Instead, what he found was a gruesome scene. Surrounding him there was now a heavily damaged city- apparently the site of a great battle that had only just ended. Multiple nearby buildings were still in the process of crumbling, and he could see smoke rising on the across the skyline.

Far more unsettling that the structures, however, were the bodies. Hundreds of them, just within the small plaza in which he stood. Most appareared to be children, no older then 14 or 15 years of age. All of them were mangled, sliced, or otherwise horribly disfigured. There were some adults among them as well, wearing uniforms that Zento slowly began to recognize. He slowly looked up, afraid to confirm his suspicions, only to spot the now-familiar glass dome far ahead, separating what was left of the city from the ocean above.

"The City Under the Sea..." he muttered in disbelief.

"Indeed," the man commented, "a prize I intend to take for myself, although I'm afraid that won't be happening today."

Zento turned to face the man once more, trying to quickly decide which of his myriad of questions he should ask first. Why are we here? What's going on? How are you alive? Did I do... all of this?

Before he had the chance to ask anything, however, the man placed his hand on Zento's head, and he immediately felt as though his mind were going numb as some sort of magic surged through him.

"At the very least," the man said with a concerningly optomistic tone, "I'm glad that it was you that survived; I've already begun to come up with a backup plan. Now listen closely: you are to forget everything that happened today, and every day for the past ten years. There was never any invasion- no 'City Under the Sea.' There were no other children either, or any hidden projects. You trained with me and me alone for... oh, let's say around one hundred years. We did this in a pocket dimension where time moves differently, so only ten years passed in our world while this occurred. An absurd story, to be sure, but believable enough as an explanation for how you became so powerful in such a short time."

He tightened his grip, and his tone became more sinister as he continued. "You are to find Kyle Efrun, and you are forbidden from revealing my name to him - in fact, it's probably best if you forgot it entirely. Assuming my information is reliable, my son should have a boy of his own by now. Once this child is of age, you are to convince him to come out of hiding. I am growing old, but through him my plan may yet come to fruition."

At last, Zento remembered the man's name. It was Carl Efrun- his own grandfather. He realized that what he was experiencing must be a hidden memory of some kind, sealed away by the former Illusive Squid's magic.

He felt the grasp on his head tighten even further, to the point of becoming painful, but he was unable to move to stop it. The old man spoke a final time, "One last thing... you must cast aside your true identity. From now on, you are to be called... Zento Calfrun."

---

As Dorrei raced through the city streets trying to catch up to Cale, she heard a voice begin to cackle. It didn't seem to originate from anything within this vision, but instead appeared to be part of the spell itself.

"So..." the voice called out, "your greatest fear was not that he would turn out to be like his grandfather, but instead that your training wouldn't be enough to protect him or this city?" It laughed again. "My my, what a sense of duty you have; and a touching display of trust to go along with it. Of course, that isn't what eats at you the most, is it? After all, I can read your memories- I know what happened the last time you tried to fight these so-called Shrimpers."

She stopped in her tracks. The voice was referring, of course, to her death. Though there was a gap in her memory from the moment when she died up until her resurrection - an effect of Sailor Eros' magic, perhaps - she could still recall in perfect detail the anger, sadness, fear, and conflicting mixture of other emotions she had experienced when she had been swallowed up by a Shrimper during the first attack on the City Under the Sea. She could remember the intense pain, followed by a terrifying numbness as the light faded from her vision.

As if on cue, one of the giant killing machines landed right behind her, causing several nearby buildings to topple over. Slowly, Dorrei turned to face it the monstrosity, and it let loose a mechanical shriek before beginning to charge the enormous laser mounted near the center of its chasis.

She snorted, then her self control finally lapsed and she broke out into a laugh.

"Trust?" she taunted her unseen enemy, "Since you're reading my memories, no amount of trust should come as a surprise to you. Yeah, I died once, and it wasn't exactly an experience I'd recommend to my friends. But who was it who refused to let it end like that? And sure, at first I was angry- after all, that jackass disobeyed an order from the Concil just to bring me back to life! At first, I thought that he was just acting on his own childish impulses, but seeing this scene made me realize something."

"And what might that be?" the voice replied, "Could it be that you've realized the futility of your struggle, and have finally accepted your own demise?"

"The hell I have! I realized that you were right earlier! I am afraid that I wasn't able to give Cale the training he needed to stop the Shrimpers. But you know what? That's why I'm here now! To pick up the slack when his lazy ass can't get the job done alone! I'll be dead again long before I ever see my city looking like this, and there's no way some pathetic mind spell is going to be the thing that does me in for good!"

A large blast struck the Shrimper just before it fired its weapon, knocking the creature off-balance and causing the beam to miss hitting Dorrei by a few feet. Following the path of the attack, she spotted Cale holding a still-smoking rocket launcher with a confident smile on his face.

"Well spoken!" he called over to her. "Now what do you say we teach these things a lesson? I think it's time to do that!"

"That?" she questioned.

"Of course! We're gonna combine!"

"...We're gonna combine?"

"...You're gonna combine?" the voice from the spell chimed in.

The shrimper made some confused-sounding growls.

"Follow my lead!" Cale leapt into the air and began to transform.

Dorrei hesitated, having never truly mastered shapeshifting, but then shrugged. "Ah, why not?" She jumped into the air after him, and the pair fused to become a giant squid-shaped robot, approximately the same size as a Shrimper.

Before the enemy could react, they hammered it with a massive metal tentacle. The monstrosity was dazed long enough for the Squidbot to wrap both tentacles around it, preventing if from moving. Squidbot flew as high as it could without hitting the glass ceiling, then flipped over and proceeded to suplex the Shrimper. The eight arms of the Squidbot began to open, revealing laser cannons hidden within each. Squidbot leaned back on its tentacles, and opened fire at the Shrimpers across the city.

As her vision began to fade to darkness once more, Dorrei could faintly hear the spell's voice murmering, "What in the fuck just happened?"

---

Shortly after Leske got up, Zento, Dorrei, and Welkin slwoly opened their eyes and climbed back to their feet. Zento merely stood there, looking dazed, while the other two moved to join the group surrounding Samantha.

Dorrei approached Magnus, as he seemed to be calling the shots for the moment. "Sorry about that, seems like I nodded off for a minute there. Some of the others too, looks like. Mind filling us in on what we missed?"

[Mizagium]

Samantha returned the same disappointed look he gave her. “Some magister I’d be if I wasn’t thinking about else I could do. I though you would understand, Magnus, how much potential these beasts have?” She tried to stand and failed, rattling the chains. She scowled at them but continued.

“They’re death! Living avatars of entropy. Vengeful creatures of destruction. I’m sure you wondered about them. These schlubs barely understand what they are,” she indicated the rest of the group, including Jeffrey. “And the natives – well you’ve seen them. Not much hope for them, really. But you – a Traveler, like me! Yes, I know you’re not from here; not sure if that was really ever a secret or not. But you, Magnus, had to have wondered!”

“Wondered what?” Jeff cut in, wheezing slightly. He pushed past Leske to confront his long-lost sister. “What did you think you’d gain by…by…”

“By experimenting on them?” Samantha sighed and shook her head. “Oh, Jeff, you don’t get it. I didn’t know what I would find by experimenting on them. That’s why I did it! I had to know – and look! I created like a new race of people or something. Isn’t that cool?”

“I don’t…Samantha, I-I don’t understand.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She tested the chains, muttered something to herself, then said, “You always liked things nice and neat, Jeff. I guess that’s why Order chose you, huh? Yeah, I know that, too. No much is really secret when you can see the worldcode.”

She tugged one last time on the chains and said something in harsh, otherworldly syllables – and the arcane chains disappeared and the circle broke. “I’m getting better,” she observed, standing. “Pretty soon I might not even need the TUCAN.”

Jeff tensed, not really sure what to do or expect. “Sam.”

“Listen,” she said a little too casually. “I’m almost done with my experiments here. I learned a lot from Tusk Horrorbell, careless trash that she was, but I’ve almost figured it out, so if you’ll just give me a little more time with it – “

“With it? With what?”

“Damn it,” she swore. “This is why I don’t talk to people, man. It’s how I almost got caught back home when – “

Understanding sparked in Jeff’s mind and he blurted, “You have the keystone!”

She closed her eyes now and breathed in slowly. “Like I said. I’m almost done with it. I just need a little more time to experiment and I’ll hand it over, no problem, ok?”

He almost said yes. Lord help the man but he almost said yes. “No. I’m not going to let you keep doing…whatever it is you’re doing here, Sam. It’s killing people. You’re experimenting with death, with…with things you shouldn’t mess with.”

Real disappointment crept into her voice. “You know, I was hoping you’d be better than that. I thought maybe you’d understand that some things are bigger than morality, that the search for knowledge requires sacrifices. Magnus knows, I bet – don’t you, Magnus? With great power and knowledge comes great sacrifice?”

She stuffed her hands in the pouch of her pullover in a manner very unlike an apparent supervillain. “So, what, is this the part where you decide I’m too dangerous and powerful to let walk away?”

[Myrdraxxis]

Magnus sneered at the young woman, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat roughly. "You don't know the first thing about sacrifice, girl." He growled, maybe a bit more angrily than he had intended. Despite the attitude he put on, that little mental trip might have shaken loose a few more repressed emotions than he'd thought. He was certainly never going to admit that Samantha may be right. "You're just trying to absolve yourself of any wrongdoing, hiding behind some vague greater goal. Seen it a million times. Pretty cliche honestly." He sighed again, shutting his eyes briefly.

Was that a migraine forming? Probably. 'Codex' he thought. The arcane artificial intelligence he had created bore a mental link to him, having been born of his magic. Most of the time he didn't bother with it considering he carried her by his side.

'Yeeees?' Codex dragged the word out, but even the levity in the AI's voice sounded a bit forced. Well if nothing else Codex had learned how to read the mood.

'Start unlocking the barriers on some of the chained archives. Might need them.' He ordered. There was a heartbeat of hesitation from Codex, which might as well have been a lifetime for the hyper intelligent entity.

'Yessir'

Magnus grunted a quick thanks. His little mental conversation had only taken a moment and he cracked an eyelid, glaring at where Samantha stood, posed similarly to her fellow magister. "Well, you are right about one thing, I guess."

Then he activated the Blink spell, appearing just beside Samantha. A glowing arcane blade appeared in one hand. "I can't let you walk away." But he couldn't make the same mistake of letting her live either. It was a lesson he'd long ago internalized. 'Sorry Jeff.' He swung the blade right at Samantha's neck.

[Monika]

Sarina didn't quite reach the resolution of her own nightmare. She had been up against the Emperor Veralice, after all - one of the most powerful and feared people in Awesome Land history. She decided she'd take up her long repressed and internalized trauma with him at a later date, if she ever saw him in person again. For now, though, she embraced the fact that the darkness around her had shattered and brought an end to her hellish nightmare world.

And then she saw Samantha.

The elder Valentine's very presence already set Sarina on edge; her Chaos powers preemptively flared up in self-defense. But seeing Samantha so mercilessly snap the neck of her own creation - a creation who had done nothing but try to please her - that really pushed Sarina to her limit. The young girl knew a lot about trying to please a constantly disapproving parent, so this incident really hit home.

She was about to rush at Samantha herself before she realized something: this was Jeff's sister. And as Jeff's girlfriend, she couldn't very well kill his sister in cold blood. If she even tried it, Hioma would be sure to show up and lecture her about proper relationship behavior. So she stood there, letting Magnus take the lead for this attack instead. But all the while, her thoughts came to two simple words.

Kill her.

[Calefrun]

Despite everything else going on around him, Zento simply stood where he was, wide-eyed and breathing quick, shallow breaths. What the hell had just happened? Was it just some nightmare, fabricated by the Death-Mammoth's magic? If so, then why did it feel so real?

The last words that he had heard before waking up kept repeating in his mind. "From now on, you are to be called... Zento Calfrun." What was that supposed to mean? What else would he be called? He was Zento Calfrun, was he not? If he was anything else, wouldn't his aunt and uncle have been suspicious when he showed up on their doorstep? Of course, he had only been four years old when he begun his training, and admittedly couldn't remember if he had even met the Efruns before then. But even then, what of his memories of his father? Surely those couldn't...

The teenager felt his blood freeze. His father. What had become of David Calfrun after the war with Lolfail Land? He was stunned that this had never occurred to him, but... he had never made any attempt to reunite with his father following his return from his training. In fact, he had immediately begun doing everything he could to discover the whereabouts of his Uncle Kyle. Why had he done that?

He remembered joining the Ausum Land Navy, having convinced himself that he was doing so to follow in his father's footsteps. He had even met Phantom Watsrobe himself! He could have just asked the man about David's fate following the war!

Zento hunched over, clutching his head in his hands. "What... the hell... is going on here?"

Feeling a hand squeeze his shoulder, he slowly looked up to find Dorrei standing beside him. Her expression was stern, but he had known her long enough to catch the hint of concern in her eyes.

"Pull youself together," she commanded. "I don't know what that spell made you see, but I can't afford to have you space out on me right now. Let's finish up here, then you can get some tissues or something if you need to cry it out."

He regarded her for a moment, then nodded and stood up straight. "Yes ma'am. Also I don't cry."

"Pfft, yeah okay." Dorrei returned her attention to the scene that was unfolding before them. She scowled at Magnus for a moment, somewhat annoyed that he had ignored her question, but she supposed that an answer wasn't really needed at this point. Samantha had lost her mind, and was a dangerous threat. She took aim, hoping that her harpoons would be more effective against the magister than they had been against the mammoths.

---

Ignoring that interaction and focusing instead on the plot, Welkin began to chuckle. "So," he said quietly, his tone thick with rage, "you're saying that it's your fault? The Mammoths have been more aggressive of late... that's because of these experiments of yours? And because of you, I..."

He started slowly making his way towards Samantha, his voice increasing in volume as he talked. "The effects of your research didn't stop with the Mammoths. Anyone... no, anything that comes into contact with one of them is... changed. Most are fortunate enough to die, but others..." He halted and planted his feet firmly on the snowy ground. "I wonder... did that 'worldcode' of yours tell you anything about this?"

The barbarian held his hand up in front of his face, and a strange white ooze ejected from his palm. After landing on his face, the substance quickly rearranged itself and hardened into a mask resembling the face of a Death Mammoth, complete with long tusks extending out from either side of Welkin's mouth. The barbarian growled, his voice suddenly more raspy and guttaral.

"You speak of sacrifice, but what have you lost? You've shown your willingness to slaughter my people and upset the natural balance for the sake of 'knowledge,' but what of personal sacrifice? Your actions are... unforgivable." He extended his axes in front of himself, pointing both directly at Samantha. His next words were spoken slowly and with careful articulation, despite the rage he was barely managing to contain. "Bjornkai. MANMOSUNOKIBA: DJEVELENSSLUTTEN!"

Immediately, his body began to change. His muscles bulged to three times their normal size and his spine curved, giving him a hunched back. The shape of his legs changed to look more like those of a mammoth, and his hands contorted until they looked more like claws. Finally, his axes curved backwards and fused with his arms so that he had two long, vaguely disk-shaped blades attached at his wrists an elbows.

His mind became clouded with pure hatred, and when he opened his mouth he struggled to produce understandable words. "EXILED BY... MY PEOPLE..... COULD NOT... SAVE VILLAGE..... YOU... WILL SUFFER!!"

He charged straight towards the magister, intending to impale her with his tusks. Even if she managed to avoid Magnus' attack, she was not going to escape Welkin.

[Mizagium]

Magnus swung his arcane sword, and Welkin rushed her – but Samantha simply wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t a Blink spell, or shadowstep or anything else vaguely magical. Rather, a worldcode program auto-executed and transported her several feet to the side, out of immediate danger. Dorrei’s harpoon plonked into the ground where she had been standing; Samantha hadn’t even realized they were coming.

“Absolve myself of any wrongdoing? Magnus, please. I don’t really care anymore if what I’ve done is right or wrong. Maybe you have seen in a million times. I also don’t really care. I would say you don’t understand, but I think maybe you know. My work isn’t for ‘some vague grater goal,’ but you don’t seem in a talking mood.”

Samantha removed her hands from her pockets to show she had donned her MANHANDS again, and placed her OCD upon her face. “Now as for you, Welkin,” she said far too casually, “I don’t recall creating you.”

She traced a section in the air, creating an outline only visible to her OCD vision. “Copy,” she commanded the TUCAN. “Analyze.”

Her defense program teleported her a few more times randomly around the area at various intervals. The idea was to make her impossible to hit. As the threat level was determined to increase of decrease, the frequency and distance of the jumps would adjust accordingly.

“How interesting,” she said aloud. “I definitely didn’t work on you, but this is my code. You said the altered Mammoths are affecting what they come into contact with? That’s no good. Well, it could be good, but it doesn’t serve my needs. A simple patch, I think could fix this. Honestly, kid, why didn’t you just say so? I can probably put you back to normal if you give me some time.”

She raised her OCD and extended a hand. “Whatdya say?”