13-Through Carnage Reborn, Part 1

  -Chapter Start: August 8th, 7:21pm

  “This way!” Seren’s voice cut through the looming fog, directing me to an old stone structure. Seren was waving me from on top of rubble that led to the second floor of the exposed tower, as I hastily made my way up knocking loose various bits of rubble. A shriek echoed from behind, deep in the forest, as Seren hoisted me up to her level. “Layre and the others are just up ahead. You good, Stag?”

  “Only grazed.” I replied, glancing down at my side. The charred remains of my jacket hung loosely, revealing the frayed edges of my shirt and a patchwork of small, angry burns that mottled my skin. The faint scent of singed fabric and burnt flesh clung to me, sharp and acrid in the damp air.

  “Are you good? The others?” I asked, as I quickly looked over Seren. Various cuts, bruises, and minor burns covered her, as she tried to hide the stiffness and pain in her movements.

  “We’re fine, thanks to our little White Stag. It would have been over if you didn’t show up when you did.” Seren playfully spoke as she traced my face with her fingers, before ruffling my hair. The smell of pine and fire from the previous nights stuck to her, only for a moment, before she moved away. Heat covered my face as she turned about, showcasing her ripped clothes and deeper wounds. We continued forward deeper within the decaying building, to a small lantern where three others were tending to each other for various injuries.

  “Layre, Yao, Arc….” Their names rumbled through the shared mindscape, as the deep and slow rhythmic breathing of Zylas guided my thoughts. Ainai’s thoughts were… Diverse, as I glanced over. She was viewing the memory through Queen’s vision, giving her a unique perspective. The scene was slowly playing back, as her eyes jolted about like quicksilver. It felt as if she was quickly sorting things, meticulously memorizing and cataloguing all that happened.

  Zylas was…

  “What?” Zylas’ sharp bark rang through the shared space, causing the memory to falter slightly. The instability caused a rare moment of unease within her, as I felt her shift slightly and her tail flick. “Look… I break things. Ainai has the rest covered. I’m just here for my answers.”

  “I just…” I began, as Zylas’ tail began to twitch slightly in my lap. Honestly, despite of all our minds being connected, I was unable to get any read on her.

  Zylas let out a slow, long grumbling sound from behind me, cutting off my speech. “Look cupcake if I have to spell it out I’m tearing whatever fucking organ I grab first and eating it in front of you, got it?”

  Ainai paused, and made it very obvious she was forcing her full attention on Zylas, who merely huffed.

  “Did you want to continue?” Ainai asked, as I felt her warming touch on my shoulder.

  “You really cut that fucking close, you know that, Stag?” Layre’s sharp voice sliced through the tension, her words biting as she leaned over Seren to tend to her wounds. Her hazel eyes, hard and unyielding, glared up at me between hurried motions. Despite her compact frame and athletic build, her presence felt towering. Her short, unevenly hacked brown hair clung to her damp skin, the rough edges mirroring her no-nonsense demeanor.

  “If you didn’-”

  “It’s fine, Lion. We’re all alive thanks to him, again.” Seren interrupted, her voice trembling between gasps of pain. She flinched as Layre tied off a bandage around her shoulder, her expression a mix of gratitude and grim endurance.

  “If Cat hadn’t knocked over an entire table, we wouldn’t have been in that situation to begin with.” Arc muttered, his tone laced with irritation as he glanced over at Yao. Despite his unassuming stature, shortest among us, Arc’s sharp words often landed like a well-aimed dart. His sandy brown hair hung limply over his brow, and his fingers absently fiddled with the strap of his bag.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Owl.” Yao shot back, his green eyes glinting with equal parts frustration and defensiveness. His fingers moved deftly as he wrapped a bandage around Arc’s arm, the fabric pulling tight against the wound. “Maybe if you hadn’t wandered off with the light source, I wouldn’t have walked straight into a fire-breathing snake!”

  Yao’s tall, wiry frame seemed to vibrate with energy, even now. His messy jet-black hair stuck to his forehead, a few errant strands swaying with each agitated motion.

  “We can blame each other later.” I interjected; my voice strained. Before I could continue, another shriek echoed through the trees outside, much closer this time. The sound sent a chill racing down my spine. “But we either need to set up camp or move on.”

  “Ah, right, because we’re definitely in a condition to move.” Layre snapped, not bothering to mask her sarcasm as she pulled a fresh roll of gauze from her pack. “Maybe if your friend—”

  A sudden crack shattered the air. Seren’s trembling hand had struck Layre across the face, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. Layre froze, her jaw tightening, but instead of retaliating, she silently resumed dressing Seren’s wounds.

  Several tense moments passed before Layre finally stood, her gaze softening as she turned toward me. “I’m sorry, alright?” she said, her tone quieter now, though it still carried a gruff edge. “We’re… We’re happy you found us, Dae-, uhm… Stag.” She hesitated, then added, “If you’re not too bad off, can you start setting up camp?”

  I nodded, taking the worn and overstuffed backpack she offered. The weight of it was familiar, almost comforting in its mundanity. “Yeah. Sorry, La-, uh, Lion. I really am.” I said, my voice softer as I slung the pack over my shoulder and turned away to begin preparations.

  “Wait, dude, your back is…” Layre started, but I raised a hand to cut her off without looking back.

  “‘If I don’t feel it, it doesn’t exist.’ Right?” I said with a weak attempt at humor, quoting her own words from a better time.

  With my back to them, I didn’t have to feign a stoic expression. The wind grazed the raw burns across my skin, each touch a cruel reminder of how close I had come to failing them all…

  The pain, much like the other feelings and emotions, jolted through the memory with vicious mockery. This time it was enough to cause me to flinch, faltering backwards into the unyielding presence of Zylas. Her entire presence was a radiating warmth, taking the brunt of the cold sting from the memory. She didn’t push me away, in what I would think be in line for her. But, she didn’t help me either. Even though I lingered, her presence remained stalwart and unmoving.

  “Here I thought I did a number on you.” Zylas’ quipped, cutting through any residual pains like a well-aimed blade, but had an odd undertone I couldn’t place. Meanwhile, Ainai was fixated on two scenes. The one where Seren struck Layre, as the raw emotions colored the scene. The other of Layre handing me the backpack, that held its own deeper meaning I missed.

  Zylas… Meanwhile, was playing back my run through the forest, and looking back over the forest before shifting my focus back to Seren. It was odd, but she felt tense rewatching the scene in its entirety.

  “The forest looks familiar is all.” Zylas mumbled, her gaze pausing on Seren’s expression.

  “How close were you and Layre?” Ainai’s soft voice resonated across the mindscape, cutting through any remaining tension. She fixated on the moments I grabbed the bag from her. While curiosity was obvious with Ainai, there was also a lingering undertone I couldn’t help but notice.

  “About as close as the rest, if I had to guess… Seren, was. Uh. She made the moves, so to speak.” I spoke, a slow heat began to build up once more on my face. Neither judged, but felt an understanding.

  “You’re completely… Just continue with it already.” Zylas’s thoughts were light, before abruptly pausing and switching back to her normal demeanor.

  The memory pressed onward, the muted sounds of the group’s subdued conversation echoing faintly in the background as I focused on sealing off several entrances with Arc and Yao. The three of us worked in near silence, exhaustion dragging at every movement. Eventually, we moved deeper into the crumbling building, finding a small room on the current floor with a single window we could use for rest.

  Like the other entryways, we placed runic stones across the doorframe, but this time we secured the stones on the interior as well. A heavy blanket was draped over the window to block any prying eyes and shut out the creeping chill. Another was hung loosely over the doorway as a last layer of protection.

  Seren and I huddled in the corner nearest the door, wrapped beneath a thick thermal blanket. The others—Layre, Arc, and Yao—had grouped together nearby under their own covering. The room was cramped, but the proximity brought a strange sense of safety amidst the desolation.

  I let out a quiet sigh as the cool surface of the wall pressed against my back, a mixture of relief and agony radiating from my burned skin. Yao had forcibly insisted on treating my injuries, and though his work was solid, the raw sensation of the burns still lingered. The cold was both a reprieve and a cruel reminder of the day’s events.

  Seren sat beside me, her posture alert despite the exhaustion written across her face. She had first watch, her eyes scanning the room and the blanketed window with sharp precision. The rhythmic rustle of shifting bodies filled the silence, and as the weight of the day bore down on me, I quickly succumbed to sleep, the memory fading to black.

  The memory was hazy, voices drifting through like echoes in a thick fog. Lao and Arc’s bickering carried an edge of frustration, their tones rising and falling as they reevaluated the group’s last close call and debated the path forward. Seren and Layre were locked in a quieter discussion—about resources and… me?

  Time blurred as hours passed, leaving an uneasy sense of displacement. Though I couldn’t make out the words, the tension in their voices was unmistakable. It felt as though I had become the center of debate. Seren’s voice carried a determined edge, clashing with the others’ sharper tones. Whatever her stance was, it was clear most disagreed.

  A fiery knot tightened in my chest, stirring an ache that radiated through the memory, but the scene grew muffled, distorted. The edges of the mindscape wavered, like ink bleeding through paper. It felt unstable, as though it might collapse altogether.

  Queen… she’s preventing it.

  With a jarring lurch, the memory skipped ahead. When clarity returned, I was alone in the room. The air was heavy with the lingering scent of old wood and damp stone. The runes that once marked the doorframe were gone, leaving only the blanket draped over the window to keep the night’s chill at bay. My body ached, every movement pulling at the edges of half-healed burns.

  Gathering the remaining supplies, I stepped outside.

  Layre was the only one in the vicinity when I exited, only illuminated by the small lantern and the glint of various tools she generally kept on her. The fog was creeping in from outside, and it was well into the night. Knives, tools, and other various metal bits and bobs laid on neatly arranged patches of cloth as I approached.

  “Seren and the others went out to scout.” Layre spoke flatly, her back turned to me. She didn’t turn to face me, her attention fixed on a large knife she held up to inspect. The immaculate edge gleamed as she turned it slightly, catching the lantern’s glow. “Get over here, your bandages probably need changed.”

  Without argument, I obliged, lowering myself to sit beside her. Layre sheathed the knife with practiced ease, securing it to her side as she finally turned her attention to me. Her exhaustion was plain—deep bags under her hazel eyes and a tense set to her jaw that spoke volumes. Despite her irritability, her movements were deliberate as she slid closer, positioning herself behind me.

  I shrugged off what was left of my jacket, exposing the scorched fabric of my shirt. Layre’s cool hands brushed against my skin, carefully feeling over the bandages for weak points.

  “Yeah, you’re gonna need another change.” Layre said as she began her work. Her hands were deft but not rough, pulling at the fabric with practiced care. The air stung as it hit the raw edges of my burn, a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating from her proximity.

  The makeshift medical supplies were laid out beside us: old, clean shirts cut into strips, a small tin of ointment, and fraying rolls of gauze. It was a patchwork solution at best, but it was all we had.

  As Layre peeled back the final layer of bandages, the sting of air against tender skin pulled a low hiss from me. Instinctively, I bundled a piece of my shirt and bit down, muffling the noise.

  “Anyone else would be riddled with infections or worse, yet here you got one of the cleanest scorch marks in history.” Layre spoke apathetically, used to my uncanny luck at this point. She worked in silence for a time, meticulously reapplying ointment with slow, deliberate strokes. A soft sigh escaped her, breaking the quiet.

  “You… really trust Seren, don’t you?”

  The question hit harder than I expected.

  “I… I trust all of you. I told you about her, I couldn’t… I wouldn’t of done that otherwise.” I spoke between winces of pains as she continued. Layre’s hands stilled for a moment, the silence stretching between us. My eyes wandered to the tools laid out before her, anything to distract from the throbbing pain. Then, a sharp jolt of cold metal pressed against my back, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I glanced over my shoulder, startled. Layre held one of her knives against my back, its polished surface glinting faintly.

  “Time and time again, you always step in just before things go tits up.” Layre started, as she pulled her large knife off my back and pointed it at my face. Her exhausted hazel eyes locked onto mine, with an intensity I wasn’t able to read. “I’m not saying I’m not thankful, but the others aren’t feeling the same.”

  “I get that.” I replied softly, a small, humorless laugh escaping me. The weight of the knife shifted subtly as she angled it closer, her expression tightening. For a fleeting moment, her eyes burned with something raw—resentment, doubt, or perhaps a fleeting impulse to act.

  I didn’t flinch.

  “Hard to accept some random you picked up along the way, after months of travelling together, has a literal demon residing within them that could just… Pop out, and murder everyone. But, it doesn’t. At least, not his companions.”

  Layre’s eyes narrowed, her grip firm but controlled. The knife lingered for a moment longer before she let out a heavy, exhausted sigh. The tension evaporated as she set the blade down beside me with a faint clink against the cloth-covered stone floor. Without another word, she resumed tending to the burn, her touch careful yet efficient.

  Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the occasional hiss of pain escaping my lips. The coolness of the ointment soothed the worst of the sting, though it did little for the weight pressing down on my chest.

  When Layre finally finished, she pulled what remained of my shirt back down and helped ease the tattered jacket over my shoulders. Her movements were precise, almost methodical, as if any deviation would shatter the fragile quiet between us.

  “A little advice.” Layre spoke as she walked around and offered me a hand up. She extended a hand, and I took it, feeling the strength in her grip as she pulled me to my feet with a slight grunt of effort.

  “I… Don’t think Seren’s gonna work out for you.”

  “Wh-what… Why do you say that?” I asked, a bit of agitation slipping out.

  “Because… Feels real bad talking shit behind everyone’s back.” Layre’s own irritation grew as she scoffed, and took a deep breath. “Because she’s wanting to leave you behind, and tried convincing us last night to do just that.”

  “You’re lying, she led me here. She came back, and-and…” I spat back, taking a step forward as a pang of pain shot through my body.

  “Do you realize how close she was to death yesterday? Or the time before that?” Layre’s voice rose, cutting me off. Her hand darted out, grabbing my collar and yanking me closer. Her hazel eyes were fierce, the exhaustion behind them barely contained. “I can’t even sleep when she’s on watch because I’m afraid she’ll snap and kill you in your sleep!”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Layre wasn’t done.

  “I get it,” she growled, her voice trembling with frustration. “You’re both fucking your nightmares away, trying to forget the hell we live in. But take a step back, Daegon. Look at her. Look at the shit she suggests. Tell me how any of it isn’t a death sentence for everyone but you!”

  “I was raised-”

  “So was Seren and Yao. Yet here you are walking into whatever fucking entity head first, every, single, time.” Layre roared cutting me off again, pushing my back causing me to stumble. “We never were this brash with our choices until after your demon saved us. Put it fucking together, Daegon!”

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  “If you wanted to get your dick wet that bad, why didn’t you mate with her?” Zylas’s thoughts interjected through the mindscape, catching me entirely off guard. At some point, watching became this pseudo-reality and I lost myself in it. The mindscape wavered, the pseudo-reality slipping as I was jolted back into the present. My body trembled, anxiety clawing at the edges of my thoughts until Zylas’s presence anchored me.

  “Daegon’s feelings for another were unlocked for the first time. Imagine if the first blood you drank was his willingly, would you even imagine anyone else’s?” Ainai was quick to respond, with an albeit morbid example.

  “I would probably…” Zylas began, before trailing off slightly. Her thoughts became a mixture of recollections and various emotions. “I guess, that would be a bit rough.”

  “Exactly. You’d become blinded by the overwhelming nature of it. Daegon can’t see…” Ainai began before trailing off herself, her own thoughts becoming slightly clouded.

  “What… Aren’t either of you telling me?” I asked, looking over to Ainai. Zylas’ tail twitched, noting an unusual hesitation for her.

  “We both see Layre has the hots for you, and would have been a better choice than Seren.” Zylas stated bluntly, as another deep breath escaped her.

  “Wh-what? Sh-she never once…” My voice wavered as memories I hadn’t thought about in years surged to the forefront, reframing countless interactions with Layre. Her proximity to me, the subtle touches, the unwavering loyalty…

  Another memory bubbled up, vivid and raw.

  The memory shifted to a chaotic scene, the group scrambling to fortify our position. The door trembled under the weight of something massive outside, its frame groaning with each blow.

  “I… I’ll make that agreement.” Layre said, her voice cutting through the cacophony as she stepped forward.

  “Fuck no, you won’t! He’s probably the reason we’re in this mess!” Yao shouted, swinging a chair leg at the wall to dislodge an old pipe. The clang of metal echoed through the room as he secured it, readying it as a weapon.

  “This is a hell of a time to tell us you’re not human, D.” Seren snapped, dragging a heavy dresser toward the door. “What’s to stop it from killing us once you switch?”

  “If you accept the contract, she won’t harm you unless you break it.” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos. Green ethereal flames ignited around wrought-iron chains that appeared before each of them, their glow casting flickering shadows across the room.

  “Fuck that. I’ll take my chances against the…” Yao started, but his words were drowned out by the splintering of wood as claws tore through the door.

  “Shit! Look, Daegon, I don’t care what you are. I prefer living thanks.” Arc shouted, ducking under the spray of splinters as he pushed the dresser into place just in time.

  “Layre, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Yao yelled as she reached out and grabbed one of the chains.

  “I’d rather die by the hand of a friend than some monster.” Layre said, her hand resting briefly on my shoulder before she turned to face the others.

  “See? That’s not normal.” Zylas said, her voice cutting through the lingering tension of the memory. “Humans bolt when it comes to us. Even the strong ones wouldn’t jump at a deal so quickly.”

  The memory faded, leaving me with a hollow ache, a gnawing void burrowing deep into my chest. The pain of hindsight pressed like a weight on my ribs, forcing me back into the enveloping warmth of Zylas’ presence. Her body radiated heat against mine, a steady contrast to the cold emptiness clawing at the edges of my mind.

  “We… Should just finish the other one up.” My voice rasped, rough and uneven. I slouched further against Zylas, the coarse texture of her fur brushing faintly against my neck. Ainai shifted closer, her crimson eyes flickering with unspoken concern. She reached out, her fingers clasping mine. Her touch was soft, grounding… Offering a momentary refuge from the darkness that had already begun to settle around the next memory.

  I took a deep breath, as the lingering scent of incense felt light compared to the anxiety that formed. Refocusing on this memory was like wading through thick, icy water. Each step filled with insufferable truths dragging me deeper until….

  “We never were this brash with our choices until after your demon saved us. Put it fucking together, Daegon!” Layre’s voice echoed through the empty building, as I stood their stunned.

  “She’s nearly won over Arc too…” Layre’s voice dropped, softer now, but no less accusatory as she turned away.

  “Seren would – would… Definitely do that.” Queen voice hissed out, her anger bleeding through my lips before I could stop it. Before I knew it, my knees buckled and I fell to the ground. Nausea swelled up in my gut, and a searing headache ruptured any thoughts I had. Before I knew it, that visceral twist of nausea spread across my entire body, like my organs were about to burst. Layre turned immediately, drawing her knife with fear in her eyes.

  “Why are you out?” She hesitated, fear in her exhausted expression, as she took multiple steps back.

  “You know why.” Queen’s voice was icy and calamitous. My body lurched forward, rising off the ground as if puppeteered by an unseen force. I looked down in horror, as slithering chain tattoos began to spread across my arms, glowing an unholy green. Their growth was slow as it twisted and coiled, a methodical takeover. Heat surged through my body, my vision blurred, and I felt my consciousness begin to slip.

  Before I could even fight back, I became a prisoner in my own body…

  Zylas’ body stiffened behind me, a ripple of tension coursing through her. Her tail bristled, the fur standing on end as her breath hitched audibly. For once, it was Zylas who leaned on me. The weight of her presence, so typically dominant, now felt like a strange form of solidarity. Ainai moved closer too, her shoulder brushing against Zylas’, a quiet, reassuring gesture of connection.

  “I had nothing to do w-” Layre’s protest was abruptly cut off as Queen’s hand blurred forward, gripping her throat and hoisting her into the air. “P-please…”

  ‘Stop! Why-’ My internal voice screamed, desperate, fighting against the crushing weight of Queen’s control.

  “You agreed, if they ever broke the rules-” Queen began, her eyes locked onto her growing nails as they slowly began to cut into Layre’s throat.

  ‘Layre hasn’t! We don’t know who-’

  “A break for one is a break for all.” Queen’s tone was final, a deadly mixture of judgment and justification. Her claws pressed into Layre’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood that glistened in the dim light. The sound of Layre’s strangled gasps filled the void, each one a knife to my gut.

  My vision flickered, growing dimmer with every passing second.

  “That’s fucked up.” Zylas growled, her voice unusually low, almost hesitant. Despite the steel in her words, her body remained taut with unease, her breath shallow and controlled.

  Ainai’s face was a storm of emotion, her usually serene demeanor barely holding together. Her eyes shone with a kaleidoscope of feelings: sadness, sorrow, despair… and anger. Even so, she remained a fortress, containing the swirling chaos within her without letting it seep into the shared space.

  The memory came rushing back, jagged and fragmented, as trees and other flora blurred past me in streaks of green and brown. The wind roared in my ears, and the rhythmic pounding of our footsteps echoed in the suffocating silence of the forest. I looked down—our hand was drenched in blood, the skin an unnatural ashen blue. Chain tattoos, glowing faintly green, snaked along our arm, pulsing with a sinister life. This was Queen’s takeover, but in the brief flickers where I wrested back consciousness, it felt like drowning in someone else’s wrath.

  Looking up, two faint outlines of similar chains appeared ahead through the dense fog, shifting rapidly as the trees zipped by. The scene dissolved into blackness, only to return moments later as we reached the outskirts of an abandoned town. The air here was heavy, suffused with the sickly-sweet tang of decay. Something dragged behind us, leaving a slick, wet trail on the cracked pavement.

  Before us stood a building, its front door looming like a final barrier. With a sharp snap of our fingers, the door exploded inward, fragments of wood scattering like shrapnel.

  “Aaaaagh!” a voice screamed. A sudden projectile hurtled toward us—a chair, maybe? The memory fractured again, the moment freezing just before impact.

  “You fucking bitch! You and Daegon were just waiting for this!” Lao shouted as the scene came back into vision. He was pinned to the wall, metal rods piercing through his wrists, anchoring him like a grotesque marionette. Blood trickled in dark rivulets down his arms, pooling at his feet. “We were right to sell your sorry ass out! You don’t frighten us, we’ve dealt with pettier demons than you, slu-”

  A guttural, wet gurgle cut him off mid-insult. A black, viscous mass erupted from his throat, silencing him as it spilled from his mouth in thick torrents.

  “Don’t be so hasty, welp. Your suffering has only begun.” Queen’s voice slithered through the air, calm yet brimming with restrained fury. With an effortless motion, we flung Arc’s broken body into the center of the room. He landed with a sickening thud, his bloodied and lifeless form a horrifying testament to what had transpired.

  “Even… Tortured him…” Yao tried yelling through the coughing fit of blood. A small, cruel smile passed our lips.

  “My handiwork…” The words dripped with pride, but before they fully left our mouth, the memory fractured again, leaving me gasping. A cold sweat clung to my skin, and I could feel my body trembling despite Zylas and Ainai’s grounding presence.

  The scene shifted abruptly.

  “GET AWAY FROM ME!” Seren’s voice pierced the memory, raw with terror. She slammed the door of a towering stone building in front of us. “I refuse your entry to these holy grounds, and the door is reinforced with silver and iron! You’re unwanted! Begone and hear our prayers!”

  We stepped forward regardless, placing a hand lightly on the door. The metal’s burn seeped into our skin, but it only coaxed a sinister laugh from our lips, rich with Queen’s omnipotent presence.

  “Holy grounds are mine to tread, as I bring retribution to those sinners who dare break my contract.” She declared, her voice reverberating like the toll of a bell. “I am Dwq Wzlpxmcql jv Yjfqlqxcmds, Nxydlqyy jv dwq Vjlpxttqm Czltqm, and most importantly… I am The First to Choose.”

  The doors disintegrated into ash beneath our touch, carried away on a violent gust of wind that roared outward. Two figures stumbled forward, collapsing at our feet. Chains, glowing green and hissing like angry serpents, slithered around their bodies, binding them tightly as their cries filled the air.

  Beyond them stood Seren, defiant but visibly trembling, and an older man in priestly robes, his face pale and drenched in sweat.

  “Heavens above…” The priest’s voice cracked, his words barely audible as he dropped to his knees. His trembling hands clutched a tarnished cross, its once-pristine surface dulled by time and use. He closed his eyes tightly, murmuring a desperate prayer. “You… You walk the Earth, even now? Do you know what you’ve wrought, girl?”

  “Worry not, priest.” Queen’s voice was calm, yet laced with cold authority, each word wrapping around the air like a noose. “The harlot is the only damned one here. Your life will return to the natural flow.”

  She moved forward with measured steps, the faint click of her heels echoing ominously in the dim room. The sound was broken by two sharp snaps behind us, but our eyes—her eyes—remained fixated on Seren. A surge of euphoria bubbled within, as if every nerve was alight with forbidden pleasure. Blissful, sinful thoughts began to flood the memory, distorting it like a fever dream.

  The priest’s figure blurred in the haze until he was suddenly standing between us and Seren. Her desperate retreat, her panicked search for an exit, flickered in and out like a stuttering film reel. Anger surged, sharp and searing. Our hand shot forward seizing the priest’s head. Heat radiated from the contact, growing until flames erupted, engulfing his head in a blazing crown of fire. His agonized screams pierced the air, cutting through the haze before the memory dissolved into a chaotic cascade of images.

  Flashes of Seren and Yao strung up like grotesque marionettes jolted through the void, hundreds, if not thousands of scenes collected over days swept through the mindscape. Their bodies bore meticulously placed cuts and bruises, cruel artistry framing their pain. Bones cracked like percussion, punctuating their cries of torment. Their faces twisted, raw emotion spilling from their lips… Worship, turned to scathing truths as they cursed their fates.

  “Daegon…” Seren’s voice, fragile and cracking, broke through the cacophony. Her tone was pleading, a single word filled with betrayal and despair. The memory shattered, leaving behind an inescapable green hue suffusing everything like a poisonous fog.

  “Daegon!” The word came again, louder this time. It wasn’t Seren. The voice pierced the fading memory, pulling me back through the shared mindscape and into reality.

  “Fuck it, I can bring him back.” Zylas’ growling voice was startlingly close, her face mere inches from mine. Her intense presence pressed down on me, heavy and inescapable. I felt the raw power radiating off her as she inhaled deeply, her claws flexing slightly.

  “W-w-wait, I-I-I’m…” I stammered, my voice shaky as I instinctively pushed myself backward. My movements were clumsy, and I ended up looking up into Ainai’s concerned gaze.

  Zylas exhaled sharply, a puff of warm air brushing against my skin as she straightened, crossing her arms with a mixture of impatience and restraint.

  I tried to stand but my legs buckled, sending me stumbling dangerously close to the shrine. Before I could fall, Zylas’ massive clawed paw shot out, catching me with a precision that belied her sheer size. She steadied me effortlessly, her grip firm but careful, before lowering me back to the ground.

  Her form had shifted almost fully now—towering, lupine, and primal—but my scrambled mind couldn’t process it. Or perhaps I simply didn’t care.

  “Daegon… Just, let Ainai do what she does.” Zylas’ voice wavered, carrying an unusual hesitance.

  The weight of my body pressed into the ground, every nerve frayed and raw. My clothes clung to me soaked with a cold sweat, while my chest heaved as though trying to expel the crushing storm of emotions within.

  ‘What an intriguing question.’ Queen spoke through the renewed mindscape, teasing an unexpected possibility.

  “In your own words, such trivialities are ours to endure.” Ainai declared, her tone echoing softly as she drifted about the room. Nearly an hour passed before we reconvened. In that quiet interlude, I attempted to wash away the musk Zylas complained of and forced a morsel of food down at Ainai’s insistence… Tasteless, was the only way to describe it, compared to the memories stirred up. Zylas leaned her back against the door, as I stretched out on my back in front of the shrine. An odd and uneasy calmness had taken hold as I was still processing the old memories.

  “Why didn’t you give us the whole memory first?” I asked, as flashes rushed through my mind. I winced as the village massacre rushed past again- the scent of burning wood or bloodied deeds... Zylas instinctively tensed, as her claws scratched the floor.

  ‘You asked for your memories, not mine.’ Queen purred, her voice both velvety and edged with playful darkness. The abyssal void surrounding her in the mindscape lurched into view, its shifting darkness pulsing with an uneasy, almost tangible life… A low, resonant hum that vibrated through our very thoughts. ‘It’s the truth you deny, Daegon.’

  “And I—you would have me believe-” I began, but before my words could fully form, a cruel, cold tendril coiled around me, its touch like ice and iron.

  ‘Declare a single lie I’ve spoken.’ Queen commanded, her voice rumbling through the mindscape like distant thunder, shaking the very foundations of our thoughts. Her overwhelming aura pressed in upon us—a palpable, smothering weight that seeped into every corner of my consciousness. ‘I’m waiting.’

  “Y-you… Haven’t… t-to m-me…” My voice wavered, strangled by the suffocating presence Queen exuded. Despite my stuttering admission, she refused to relent. “I-I’m… so-…”

  “You’ve made your point.” Ainai interjected, her tone slicing through the oppressive haze as if igniting a spark. In an instant, blue fire erupted across the mindscape, its sizzling crackle and the sharp tang of ozone catching Queen off-guard. I sat up abruptly as eleven shimmering orbs of blue flame danced around Ainai; for a brief moment, her features assumed a vulpine allure, and her eyes sharpened into a piercing glare that locked onto mine.

  A low, gurgling sound, reminiscent of boiling water in a dark cauldron, emanated from Queen’s umbral shroud, carrying with it the faint, unsettling odor of brimstone. Rage? Anger? Disgust? The very words quivered on the brink of my consciousness.

  ‘HAH!’ Queen belted out a singular, radiating laugh through the mindscape. For a heartbeat, I wondered if she was truly laughing; a few mocking snickers echoed in the void before she retracted her presence into the abyssal cocoon. ‘Very well, kitsune, you can borrow from my opulence. But, Daegon starts just before the village.’

  Ainai once again took up a seat next to me. Meanwhile, Zylas placed her back between Ainai and me. Before my nerves could settle, trees and other flora rushed past in streaks of clear greens, warm browns, and arrays of vivid, colorful flowers. The wind whispered secrets of hidden paths and unseen predators, and the rhythmic cadence of our footsteps blended with the soft murmurs of the forest. I glanced down. Our hands were clean and beautiful—the skin an unnatural, ashen blue. Chain tattoos, glowing faintly green, snaked along our arms, pulsing steadily. This was Queen’s takeover, and a seething rage emboldened our haste.

  "This is already different." Zylas rumbled quietly.

  A large, decrepit house soon emerged in view, its presence evoking a surge of disgust and rage that nearly boiled over. A singular life-force was visible within, encircled by a green chain that coiled around it. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the unpleasant bite of lingering fire, while memories of Daegon’s most recent near-death experience flared unbidden. Muffled sounds—weak groans barely audible—drifted from the root cellar where the life force lay motionless and waning.

  The metal door opened slowly as we halted before it. We briskly made our way down its threshold. Undying embers littered the floor, flaring up as a new gust stirred them, and a thin, unnatural smoke clung to the ceiling. We pressed forward as objects, both small and large, cleared away from our path. Yet the trail of blood remained unbroken.

  Out of the room, down a narrow hallway, and into the deepest recesses we followed it until a trembling voice managed to speak:

  "I knew… you…"

  In a darkened corner, a figure became our focus—Arc. He was tied to a nearly broken metal chair, and the slow, wet sound of liquid sloshing into a pool beneath him filled the silence.

  “Mutually assured destruction.” Queen spoke softly as she slowly walked over and placed a gentle hand on Arc's throat. A creeping green light radiated outward, flooding through his body. Grunts and groans mingled with the sound of blood escaping his mouth. Gradually, a spark of revitalization nudged Arc back to the cusp of life, and in exchange, memories began to pour into us.

  "Da-Daegon... Th-they..." Arc’s voice trembled as he drew upon the last vestiges of his strength. His face and body bore the marks of brutal violence—cuts and bruises scarred his skin, while erratic stab and slash marks marred his limbs. He had been tied up and abandoned, left for death. "S-Seren... Yao... Th-they wanted..."

  “I’m aware, little one. But to confirm, they planned to sell out Daegon, correct? But, both you and Layre refused to budge. So, they…” Queen’s tone trailed off as an unfathomable rage welled within her. More of Arc’s memories seeped into our shared awareness, each recollection slowing time… The memory played in reverse: From being violently stabbed and beaten, to being tied to the chair, more arguments, and finally starting with two lone figures unaware of prying eyes on their illicit activities. “They’re…”

  Arc nodded slowly. The illumination on him shifted; it no longer came solely from the familiar green glow but from the chains on Queen’s body, which now shone brighter—as if to restrain her very actions. "P-please..." he whimpered, each word a struggle against his fading strength.

  “I’ll grace you with three choices, and you don’t have much time left.” Queen’s eyes and mind refocused, a clear determination burning as she looked deeply into Arc's waning eyes. “One: You face the punishment for breaking my contract. Ripped away from the natural cycle never to return. Two: You give your soul to me, and abandon the normal incarnations under my will. A true honor.”

  A long, pained pause followed as Arc coughed up more blood, the sound harsh against the oppressive silence. "A-and t-three?" he managed in a broken whisper.

  “I’ll spare you from your deeds, and let your soul return normally.” Queen’s voice wavered, caught between bitterness and reluctant magnanimity. An invisible, inevitable countdown hung over Arc as he continued to cough, each convulsion punctuating his frailty. Queen glanced to the left, peering out a covered window where two distant, green-bound souls drifted in the gloom.

  “L-layre…” Arc began, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Two, then.” Queen’s tone softened as she returned her gaze to Arc. She placed a light, warming hand on his bruised face. Slowly, he nodded in weary agreement. “Rest your soul, you’ll return soon enough.”

  A heavy silence fell before a cacophony of cracks erupted as Queen closed her eyes. A faint, rhythmic beating slowly faded in the palm of our hand, as an unholy wrath began to bubble forth once again.

  Queen is? Why did they use Code Names? Does Pineapple really belong on pizza?