I could hear ghastly screams, and calls for help from almost every direction. In the far distance – down the overgrown hillsides, and the far-reaching glades of the forest, a waterfall of insects is cascading towards Scélére at a ludicrous speed. The bugs aren’t even crawling, their sheer volume causing most of them to lose footing, and glide over the top of countless bodies marching ahead; the world’s most horrific slide, made manifest. With each step I take, I can feel my windpipe ache more, and more, desperately pumping in air to help me keep pace. Corpses are strewn about in alleyways, in front of locked doors, and each time I pass one, more locusts, and other bloodthirsty creatures abandon their meal in favor of hunting me down. I wouldn’t dare turn around now – the resounding buzz of wings flapping is enough motivation to keep me going.

But where the hell am I running?

As if on cue, I arrive at a crossroads. Left, or right?

If I remember Scélére’s layout correctly, the left will only take me deeper into the settlement… Then, surely if I go right–

“MOVE!”

The guttural scream came from a sizeable mob of criminals running back into Scélére – a group of the same people who marched out to lend Esmé assistance. But they couldn’t have reached the clinic in that amount of time, and that only means…

“Are you deaf?! Bugs are coming – MOVE!”

Both my feet slam into the ground right before getting stampeded by the advancing crowd. Shit… If the insects already got as far as Scélére’s main entrance, then we’re trapped here. And that only leaves…

“Everyone!” My howl barely manages to overpower the sounds of buzzing, and rumbling. “Follow me for shelter!”

Any voices of dissent are drowned out by the panicked screams of people being eaten alive. If we’re forced to remain in Scélére, then there’s only one place we can hide in, isn’t there? A bar with a hard exterior, a heavy, iron door, and which is almost guaranteed to be empty.

Turn right, run until you pass all but one alleyway, and turn left, into a backstreet. To my relief, Gregor’s army of bugs has not yet made it here.

“MIEL!!! Open the door!”

For a moment, the possibility of the tavern being completely abandoned crosses my mind. What if it has already been invaded from the inside? Is this it?

And then, the ironclad gate swings open.

One-by-one, the mob files into Hydromel, tripping and falling over furniture, or other criminals whose bodies gave out from exhaustion. The sounds of insects flying into the bar’s walls at maximum velocity keep multiplying, but very quickly, everyone has made it inside. As Miel, and several other mercenaries seal the entrance up again, only a handful of dangerous insects manages to make its way inside. They’re quickly dealt with.

Finally, a chance to catch my–

“Erland!”

Two voices call out my name, and as I turn to where they came from, a familiar, hefty body smashes directly into my bruised torso. It takes me a second to recognize the redhead.

“…Rum?”

I bite my tongue to make sure I’m still experiencing reality correctly. She’s squeezing me, tightly. My hands awkwardly hover in the air, unsure as to whether it would be safe to touch the girl in this state. Suddenly, another pair of hands pushes down my arms onto Rum. It takes me a second to realize it’s Wulfram – even without tattoos and bare skin, I immediately recognize the stink eye he’s giving me. It takes a second for me to actually process the surrealness of this reunion, but at least for now…

“It’s good to see you up and about.”

My comment seemed to snap Rum back into her normal functioning, causing her to jump away like a scared cat. She still looks a bit feverish, but that horrific injury has all but healed in just a few days! I have thousands of questions, but all of them are brushed aside by Wulfram.

“First things first…”

The tattoo magus takes hold of my hand, beckoning the ink he’d lent me to come straight back onto his skin.

“Now, all is good in the world.”

“Peachy. Now, it’s your turn to tell me when you guys even got here. Were you mixed in with the crowd that I came with?”

In response, both Rum and Wulfram nudged their heads towards a door behind the bar, and the tattooist responded.

“The doctor didn’t really answer any questions as to why, but the clinic’s panic room had a long tunnel connected to this dingy tavern. We had a similar swarm attack us back at that lodge, but it was nothing compared to what’s happening here…”

Shoot.

“Ugh, then, what happened to the clinic?”

Suddenly, a smug grin flashed over Rum’s face.

“I regret to inform you, Erland, that the pecking order has changed around here. I took care of the pesky bugs, with my new-found, divinely-guided–”

“Is that our diamond in your eye socket?”

“I’ll get to that – anyways, the moment I stepped down the stairs with my new prosthetic, a foreign power was channeled through me… The might of a thousand–”

“The diamond is spinning… Does it have some storage property for magick? Were you able to actually cast lightning magick?!”

Rum’s expression deeply soured.

“Wulfram..! He already knows everything!”

“Yes, yes, very callous of him.”

What kind of diamond is this? A tool for not just storing, but being able to use other people’s magick is absurd, especially considering the fact that Rum is a Corta.

“Rum,” I snap out of my thoughts, “do you think you’d be able to cast lightning magick again?”

She thinks for a moment.

“I’m still not sure how it works. I managed to fire off a few bolts of lightning at the clinic, but I didn’t visualize it in any way. Not to mention, the magick was much weaker than what we went up against.”

“But, it’s also true that the diamond hasn’t stopped spinning since you used it,” Wulfram adds.

“Hm. Then, I guess I should be able. Why do you ask?”

I gesture towards the boarded windows and metal door, both of which are being gnashed at by the sea of bugs.

“I have a good idea of where to find the insect magus, and I don’t think these spawns of Hell are going to let up anytime soon. I figure our only option is to murk him.”

 Neither Wulfram, nor Rum respond. Instead, from behind me, an icy voice sounds out a question.

“And how do you intend to ‘murk him’, you weaselly little con artist?”

Uh oh. Pivot, pivot!

“Ms. Esmé! I’ve heard so much about you from my lovely co-conspirator, Wulfram!”

I pull the tattooist in close, carefully avoiding his death stare as I do so. The medicine magus looks ready to skin me alive, so let’s carefully distribute the blame for the little scam we pulled on her beforehand.

However, Esmé doesn’t say anything for a while. She just looks me over, like an especially shiny piece of garbage.

“How the hell did a guy like you kill the lightning magus?”

“Ah, well, it was a collaborative effort with my wonderful co-conspi–”

“Stop talking. Forever, stop talking.”

The doctor pauses for another moment, looking at the barricaded windows, and then back towards us three. Finally, she seems to have made up her mind.

“I can set up a temporary field hospital here; I’ll treat anyone who’s still alive, but everyone here is going to need to pull their own weight.”

Esmé and I make eye contact. She looks livid, probably because she needs to ask questions after telling me to stop talking.

“You – where is the insect magus hiding?”

“He’s probably still on one of the rooftops in Scélére.”

The doctor cocks her eyebrow.

“So why didn’t you follow him?”

“You try following someone with suction cups for feet, and then we’ll talk.”

To my surprise, not just Esmé, but everyone within earshot turns to me in alarm.

“…What do you mean, suction cups?”

“I’m not certain that’s what it was – the guy turned his torso into a beetle shell, so I figured if he could climb walls–”

“Transmogrification?!”

I turn to Wulfram and Rum, both of whom seem equally startled by the prospect.

“Is it that big a deal?”

“…Do you have any idea how many years of knowledge, and training would be needed to even attempt transmogrification? By the time a magus is able to pull it off without killing themselves, they don’t have enough lifespan left to learn how to undo it.”

“So, he’s well-trained – big deal.”

“And what exactly makes you think he can’t transform your body parts into an insect’s? However grotesque that magus looked, he must’ve worked for uninterrupted days on his transformation. From experience, I can assure you that you’d turn out much, much worse.”

A ripple of shivers runs down my arms. Am I… excited?

“Then I’ll just make sure he can’t touch me.”

“Âne… This one makes me angry.”

For the first time since we’ve started talking, Esmé uncrosses her arms. She gestures towards the bar.

“Sit. I’m going to give you a plan, and you are going to follow it.”

“Everyone, be at the ready…”

The entire body of criminals inside of the Hydromel now stood in a two-by-two file, waiting for lightning to strike outdoors, and with me at the forefront. I’m grateful they spared so much equipment for me, but isn’t this pushing it? Of course, Wulfram wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this…

“You know, Erland, I think we should swap the chainmail out for a wedding dress. You really wear the shit out of that face veil.” Even with his stupid, stoic face, I can tell he’s trying his best not to burst out laughing.  

“Yeah, yeah – we’ll see who’s laughing when you get stung by one of those beasts from Hell. I, on the other hand, will continue to wear the shit out of this veil.”

“Well, just don’t lose it. That Miel girl seemed pretty hesitant to give it up, though I doubt it’s originally hers.”

I take one last look behind me, and catch a glimpse of Esmé and Miel talking. They look nothing alike, but for a second, it’s like I’m watching a grandmother, and her granddaughter.

“…Yeah.”

*CRASH*

A deafening thunder strike, followed by a complete silence. The bugs have completely stopped chewing at the barricaded entrances. To my left, I see Rum, giving a thumbs up, and her diamond prosthetic stop spinning completely. This was our one chance.

“Everyone! Move out!”

The entire front, myself included, starts to heave the iron door open, pushing aside countless dead insects that Rum managed to fry at the entrance.

“Cloud magus, you’re with me! Everyone else! Follow Wulfram!”

War cries ring out behind me as our impromptu army rushes out. No matter where I place my feet, dead bugs crunch with every step; Rum’s magick seems to have jumped across all of the flying insects in the vicinity, which gives us a very brief window of opportunity to get to the rooftops. Sprinting with a heavy piece of chainmail is more exhausting than I was expecting, but after getting my lingering injuries healed by Esmé, I feel rejuvenated. We run up on an intersection, turn left, and the first building on the right…

There it is! The Spitroast – an inn that Miel said would have a staircase leading directly to the rooftop. I turn to the cloud magus, who’s also been outfitted with chainmail.

“There could be bugs inside, so I say we sprint through as fast as possible. Savvy?”

As soon as he nods, we both kick in the door, and start darting up the nearest staircase. A few locusts seem to have made it in through here, but none are able to chew through the chainmail breastplate, and to my surprise, the wedding veil is doing an excellent job of keeping them from eating my face off.

First, second, third floor down, and finally, we break through to the rooftop. As Miel explained, the buildings are close enough to one another for us to jump across, but only in more populated areas of Scélére. Here, where we’re near the edge of the settlement, that’s not always the case. Still, she managed to pick out the perfect building – once we make it past this one gap, we’ll be able to cross the rooftops on foot easily.

“Cloud-boy, if you please.”

Very quickly, a large, fluffy cloud materializes in the chasm. Wulfram recommended him, so this should be safe, right?

I take the leap of faith, and against all logic, the cloud gently bounces me off towards our target.

“How does that work?!” I call out.

“What work?!” The magus asks out of view, preparing to get a running start.

“Well, clouds are the same thing as fog! How’d you make them solid?”

“…Clouds aren’t solid?”

The magus has already left behind solid ground. In slow motion, I watch as he passes straight through the white fluff, and plunges down four stories. Immediately, I lean over to assess the damage. Cloud-boy is not moving.

“You didn’t know?! You’re the cloud magus – how on earth…”

In the distance, I can faintly hear a familiar buzz. I need to find Gregor, and fast.

…

I’m sure someone will find Cloud-boy.