"The gear still smells like a dead man," Vanilla said, throwing her diving mask into the ocean. With her was Void, but he was unconscious with his head resting on her lap. Sitting in the front of the modified Rolls-Royce were Zoork and Arthur, both of whom seemed quite annoyed with their situations, but for different reasons. The old man was pissed because of whoever he was on the call with, and well, the fish was angered because he couldn't understand why the trident turned into a blue ball and the yapping in the back didn't help.

"You really made us wear this trash," Vanilla said, kicking the back of Arthur's seat.

He turned behind, looking at her and clenching his teeth. "Well, what would you have done? If it wasn't for my quick thinking, then we wouldn't even be out of that shit hole. Thanks to me, we have new clothes, and we're out of that shit hole."

"We could have at least cleaned these or tried finding gear that wasn't from literal dead humans."

"Oh yeah, because fucking fish that breathe underwater need diving gear. We were lucky to even find a damn place that sold the remains of dead divers."

"Both of you," Zoork said, punching the car's radio. "Shut up." He pressed his phone to his ear and screamed. "Meth, I swear to… There's no way you did that without my permission." He waited for a response, but the call ended. He looked at the phone and slammed it against the door. "Fuck you."

Vanilla and Arthur remained quiet, staring at the ground; they acted like children during a scolding, simply trying not to look at their parents and hoping they would stop yelling.

Zoork grabbed the steering wheel and slammed the gas pedal. "I'm going back to the base to drop you all off. I have to deal with Meth's shit."

Vanilla shrugged and stared at Void's face as he slept. On the other hand, Arthur nodded and fidgeted with the Atlantean ball as he glanced at the water around him; there was a terrifyingly endless amount of blue fluid, yet there was a calm to it, a strange sensation. He couldn't help but rejoice within the quietude of nothing in sight, except for the white puffy clouds and the bright light beaming down on him; it felt reassuring, and oddly enough, it made him realize what he was seeing was in his control. He continued to stare at the dark navy blue fluid as it radiated off warm rays of light.

It didn't take long for them to witness land. They reached the end of the ocean and switched to car mode, driving onto the beige sand, and then into the vast forest that resided near the beach. The season of Autumn caused the forest's trees to rain with different types of vibrant orange colors, so much so that Zoork was forced to recall the car's roof in order to stop the leaves from falling in. However, other than that, not much changed. Everyone remained silent as they made their way to the base.

Much like the sun dimming, those in the car sunk in fatigue. The darkness of night roamed over the once hectic blaze, yet not enough to obscure it, there was still a heat burning within the subconscious trio, and maybe it wasn't as bright as it was before, but it was fuming flame nonetheless. They arrived at the base within a normal amount of time; however, they stopped in front of the gate to the mansion, not moving forward. The area was ghost-quiet, except for the trees that swayed against the cold breeze, trickling down leaves. They waited for the gate to open, but it didn't; instead, leaves cracked as five hazel-colored deers stepped out of the forest and stood in front of the vehicle in a line, plenty of feet away.

Zoork slammed his horn, beeping at the deers, but they didn't move, so he looked at Arthur and pointed at the animals. "Go move your cousins."

"That's not even…" He began to speak but stopped, looking at the floor and sighing. He stepped out of the car and onto the sludge-like dirt, and as he did, he put the Atlantean ball in his pocket. "Move," he yelled, waving his hand at the deer. They didn't budge. He pressed his lips together and bent down to the floor, picking up a stick with leaves on it, and as he neared the deers, he shooed them with the stick, but again they didn't move.

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"Hurry up and beam them," Zoork said with his head out of the car's window. "I don't have all day for you to wave your stick in the air like a wand."

Arthur turned around, twitching his eye. "Man, It hurts. Plus, did you see the damage it does? I…"

Zoork slammed the car's horn and yelled, "We'll eat them, just do it."

"You fucking eat them," Arthur whispered under his breath as he stared at the deer. He shook his head and concentrated his Tuam towards his eyes.

But as he did, the middle deer pressed its mouth together and pointed its snout towards the dark sky. After which, it opened its mouth a tad and whistled; the other deers followed and sang together, much like a choir, whistling notes to a song. "Do Do Do Do Re Mi Mi."

"What the hell…"

"Mi Mi Fa Sol Sol."

The middle deer opened its mouth and let saliva drip, facing Arthur as it did. The other deers kept singing, bobbing their heads up and down. "Fa Mi Fa Sol Mi." The middle deer tilted its head and galloped against the dirt, jumping over Arthur and slamming its antlers against the car. However, before anyone could react the other deers also opened their mouths, a soft-lemon-colored light flaring out of them.

They exploded, and the car was obliterated. The people were affected, to say the least. Void's sheer aura protected himself and Vanilla as they remained in the burning car, but as for Zoork, he was flung out of the car and onto the dirt; his body was intact, but the skin burns were somewhat concerning, his Tuam protected him and aided quite a bit; however, without medical attention, he would succumb serious injuries. Arthur's scales protected him, but he was far too disoriented; the sight around him seemed like he was watching a buffering video.

He tried his best to stand up, but his noodle legs could barely keep stable as he wobbled around, leaning his hand against the closest tree he found. The ringing wouldn't go away, almost like a bee hive was trapped in his head. Despite the injuries, his vision caught seven mercenaries marching through the gate and near the explosion.

They grabbed Zoork, who was the closest. One of the mercenaries wore a black tuxedo, and it seemed as if he was ordering the others around. The man wasn't a geriatric, nor was he associated with the agency — heroes.

To Arthur, whoever these people were didn't matter. They were clearly enemies. He closed one eye and forced Tuam out the other, a kool-aid cherry-red beam of water passed through. He couldn't see through the laser, and the pain was far greater than his previous attempts.

The attack struck one of the individuals holding Zoork. The woman's arms were sliced off. She fell to the floor, and since everyone else lost balance, Zoork tumbled onto her as she fainted in pain.

But as soon as Arthur shifted his direction to the others, a boomerang struck the bottom of his chin, breaking it. His face was now directed towards the air, his beam striking the night clouds, but he quickly clenched his eyes closed, opening his mouth open as he waved his head left to right.

"Oi, mate," a man with an Australian accent said, a few inches away. His sharp metal boomerang flung back into his hand. "I reckon you're that bloke everyone's yapping about?" He tilted his head at the supposed Wanderer and lifted his hands in the air. "Give it a burl, why won't ya?"

Arthur breathed through his nose and clenched his facial muscles, quickly looking at his target, his eyes lit up, and two beetroot-red shots of lasers passed through the air. One of the beams zoomed through the air, missing the man, but the other snicked his face, cutting him near the cheek.

The man licked his lips and pointed at Arthur. "Fuck me dead, you really can shoot laser out of your eyes. Those videos weren't CGI." He shook his head and smiled. "I'll tell you what, Wanderer. Come with me without any more problems and let's talk. I'd love to speak with you."

"Who are you," Arthur said, trying to push Tuam towards his eyes, but only spasms of red flares emitted, and as he continued, thick-red blood leaked from his eyes down his cheek. He grabbed his head in pain and fell to the ground.

"Oi quit being a bloody sook," the man said, approaching him. "Stand up you damn fucking cunt. We have much to catch up on. I can't have you pass out, now can I?" He rolled his eyes and looked at his other partners.

Two different mercenaries held their guns to Vanilla and Zoork's heads, while they stood, and as for Void, they left him in the car since he was too heavy to carry. The other armed oppressors remained near.

"Oi, Zoork," he said, trying to get his attention, and after he did, he looked at his partner in the suit. "Darnold, tell that old cunt about the Geriatrics."

Darnold — the man with the suit — nodded. He pointed at a quiet and attentive Zoork. "Some of the Geriatrics have fallen."

He grunted but managed to speak. "What?"

Darnold frowned. "I don't think you heard me correctly, so let me put it into easier terms. Those fuckers were terminated."