If you blinked, you would’ve missed it. And your eyes would’ve opened on a transformed world. There was a mountain, and then there wasn’t.

Through Hallowed eyes, with his Nirva whipped up into a frenzy, Gwil saw it true.

Ripples, like waves in the sea, coursed through the air. No. Not the air, the fabric. Everything.

In an area expanding outward from the heart of the canyon, existence collapsed in on itself, folding as if the World had been made as pliable as silk.

The pattern resembled the disquieting depths of an iris that you see when you look closely into another person’s eye.

White-blue light devoured the design, growing brighter and brighter until it devoured itself too, creating a void.

That infinitesimal moment ended. The mountain had disappeared. In its place, a deep and massive ink-black crater, its surface as smooth as glass. It did not smoke or smolder.

Nearly the entire wall had been destroyed, or rather, erased. But the ends still stood, sliced cleanly by the arced edge of the explosion.

“Woah,” Leira breathed.

“I missed it!” Dwillard said. “I had to sneeze.”

Cort stared, motionless.

“What a show!” Gwil said. “I wanna go touch it.”

“Don’t!” Leira said. “It’s certainly poisonous, and you just got out of that hellhole.”

“On the contrary,” Buzzard said, holding up one finger. “It should be perfectly safe. Heehee. Unless, of course, the immensity of that blast breaks our theorems pertaining to Kaia’s destructive energy output. But I don’t anticipate such an outcome.

“You see, nothing noxious remains. Nothing remains at all. Kaia destroys itself. That vacuous patch is likely the cleanest, purest place in all the World.

“Loathe as I am to use such a detestable word… It becomes clearer with every passing day. Kaia is magic—or at least so empyrean that we have no better word. It has something resembling a will.”

“Wow, it does look like a lot of nothing,” Gwil said.

“Precisely. Marvelous.” He began fiddling with his goggles. “Heehee. Excellent. I have obtained a recording of the event. Once I get a new laboratory set up, I intend to sit down and dissect the footage for at least seventy-two straight hours.”

“Oh gosh, doc,” Dwillard said. “I don’t think I can stay awake so long.”

“You must, Dwillard. Who else will empty my catheter?” Buzzard scratched at his chin. “Hmm… I’d bet my life that the Leviathan has caused worse Kaia incidents and covered them up. I need to investigate that. Oh! That reminds me. I didn’t want to say this earlier in case it caused you to cancel your plan, but the Leviathan will certainly come to investigate what happened. Heehee.”

***

“How much time do we have, Buzzard?” Leira asked, her voice hoarse. “When will they arrive?”

“How should I know?” Buzzard said. “Will they send soldiers, or will a Monarch deign to come themself? The Monarch may be busy. What if they’re in the bath? Will they come by warpship?”

Leira slapped him hard across the face. Gwil and Dwillard gasped. Several heads turned at the sharp clapping sound, and many of the prisoners shouted their approval.

“Through what means will they detect what happened?” Leira said through clenched teeth. “How much time?”

Buzzard touched his hand to the red mark on his cheek. “Several hours, at least. Perhaps a day or even days. Interestingly, it’s not the blast that they will detect. That’s impossible, since nothing remains, and no fallout was produced. It is this immense crater that they will eventually notice. It’ll be picked up by one of their spy drones, which don’t fly over this barren region very often.” He nodded. “You will have some time.”

Leira turned to Gwil. “How dead set are you on staying here?”

He pointed up at the manor in the hollowed-out canyon wall. “I won’t leave until I destroy their home. But you can take the prisoners away and I’ll catch up.”

“No. No, I’m not gonna leave you.” Leira shook her head, clutched at her hair. She hated this, this crippling fear. If they fled, they’d be abandoning these poor souls, who they’d just rescued, to certain death. Ashkana wouldn’t be scared. Ashkana wouldn’t run. Not from the Leviathan, not from anyone. She would fight.

“What is it?” Gwil asked.

“You guys are right,” Leira said. “We can’t just run away. We wouldn’t make it anywhere with all these people, anyway. Let’s finish this properly. But Gwil. We need to be gone before the Leviathan shows up, so be quick about it.”

Gwil cracked his knuckles and smiled at her. “No problem. I’m gonna trash the cowboy and the Burger.”

“I know you will,” Leira said.

“Hey Cort,” Gwil said. “No one died, did they?”

Without turning to look, Cort shook his head.

Gwil grabbed Cort’s squarish chin and twisted it around. Leira expected Cort to punch him in the face.

“Quit moping,” Gwil said. “If she said she’d be okay, then she’s okay. But if you want to look for her together after this, we can.”

Cort nodded.

***

Bethany nibbled her fingernail as she circled the mannequin, examining the hot pink dress that adorned it. Speaking for herself, Bethany thought Wanda did perfectly fine work. Her dresses possessed a certain timelessness. Very well-suited to a traditional ball or some such thing.

But this one, that the flower-eyed woman had given to her, was far too frilly. Bethany’s heart skipped a beat, as it did every time that she thought of how much money Leira had given her.

What a strange woman.

Heavens, Bethany had no clue what she’d ever do with all those doubloons. She’d stashed them away in a slit in her mattress.

The thought of striking out on her own did tickle her a bit—the devilish, brave part of her that only existed in her daydreams.

Maybe one day she’d meet a guest who had a means of transport and would be willing to smuggle her out of Podexia. If she could somehow open her own shop in one of the big cities… Gods. Would she ever dare take that leap?

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Certainly not. And she wouldn’t want to. Not really. Adeline was like a mother to her. An extremely harsh, overbearing, and demanding mother, but…

Bethany smiled at her silly fantasy as she selected her biggest pair of shears and began hacking away at the mess of frills. Seldom did she get the opportunity to attack a garment so barbarically. She reveled in it as clumps of cloth fell around her feet.

“Bethany! Bethany!”

She jumped, the shears clattering to the floor, as Adeline threw the door open.

“That looks lovely already, darling,” Adeline said. “Be sure to bring it with us.”

“Mistress? Where are we going?”

“There’s been a disaster in the mines,” Adeline said.

Bethany clamped her hands over her mouth. “Did– Is– Do you know if Doctor Buzzard is alright?”

“Of course he is, girl,” Adeline said. “He warned me something was coming. We’re leaving Podexia for good. Pack all your things and then come help me with the dresses. We’ll bring only the best; space will be limited.”

“O-okay,” Bethany said. Her whole body shivered. She couldn’t catch her breath. But it wasn’t just her panic. There was something wrong with the air. She put her hand over her heart.

Adeline reached out and took her other hand. “We will be fine. I will protect you, I promise. Buzzy has a plan. But we need to help him, so be quick. We have a lot of work to do.” She scurried out the door, twirling her hand over her head. “And lives to save,” she sang.

***

Sophia trudged down the street, blinking against tears, swallowing against sobs. Her eyes flitted about, imagining accidents that might befall her and end this misery.

A building collapse. A sinkhole. A Talus running her over.

Today was one of her days working in the bordello. She hated it. Hate, hate, hate. And all that hate twisted her into something she hated even more.

She hated the fucking bitch madam. She hated looking into the bleak eyes of the other women. She hated the scummy clientele.

If she could just work in the lift’s reception hall every day, life would not be so bad. Good even, for a slave. But instead, half her days were spent in purgatory, and the other half she lived in hell.

Sophia did not know how many more days she could take. She hated how her sole desire was for death to take her. Worst of all, these chains made her resent her children, her twin baby boys. Born slaves. If not for them, she could off herself and be done with this World.

She suffocated on her hatred. All this cruelty had made her into something awful. She was supposed to love her children.

How soon after their first steps would they be taken and put to work?

Sophia stopped around the corner from the bordello and leaned against the wall. With all she had, she fought not to cry. She would not taint this sliver of peace, these few precious seconds.

She forced a quivering smile and looked at the sky. And then, she watched a piece of the World die.

Everyone on the street panicked. A mountain had just vanished. An enormous chunk of land had been carved out of the canyon, the bottomless pit in which she and her children were imprisoned.

Sophia laughed genuinely for the first time in a long time.

And then she got serious. A chance. It would be chaos. They could escape.

She turned and started running, making for her tenement. The old lady who lived next door was watching the boys.

It’s them, she realized. That flower-eyed woman who had harassed her. The Hallowed man who attacked Lord Ansoir a few days back was that woman’s companion.

When Sophia heard of that incident, she knew those two had been lying to her when they entered the Chateau. But she’d never dreamed of something like this. The two of them were raiders or thieves or something. And they destroyed the Kaia mines.

A miracle. That explosion was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Thank you, whoever you are. Thank you for this chance at a life. If not for me, please, at least let it be for some of us.

Sophia clenched her fists. No. I will take it, no matter what.

***

Sheriff Jackson sat in the seat of his chopper, which he’d brought up onto the manor’s rooftop deck. He had a spittoon in his lap, a bottle of whiskey in his left hand, and a cigar in his right.

A bunch of sliced up corpses were scattered across the deck. Jackson had brought all the men who’d fled from the wall up here and slaughtered them. Piece of shit cowards. They were mostly Stondemaier’s men anyway, not a part of his old gang.

But he’d left Bart alive. Jackson liked Bart ‘cause he always called him ‘sir’.

The old gang was dead. That mangy Hallowed kid probably beat ‘em all to death. That truth would hurt bad once Jackson stopped drinking, so he’d keep on drinking.

“Fuckin’ goddamn piece of shit little brat,” he muttered. He sloshed some whiskey onto Bart—who was looking out over the railing—to get his attention. “No one’s gone back into the prison?”

“No sir,” Bart said. “They look to be heading for the town, sir.”

“Good. I’ll go kill them later once I’ve had my fill. And fuck all the resort guests and Stondemaier’s gaggle of rich assholes. I’m gonna massacre that whole fuckin’ town ‘cause I’m royally pissed off. We’re done with the resort shit. Waste of money. Pure Kaia mining from here on out. We got word that the elevator’s shut down?” the sheriff asked.

“Yes sir, but I’ve been trying to tell you, sir,” Bart said.

“Fuckin’ hell, man,” Jackson slurred. “What is it?”

“Sir, Toothpick sent word and-”

Jackson belched. “He’s alive?”

“Yes sir. Everyone you left down there is alive, sir,” Bart said. “They’re about to take the cable car up here. TP says that the Hallow spared him and the others.”

“What a fuckin’ dweeb.” Jackson spat. “So, the old gang lives. Maybe we get to keep playing the game.”

“Yes sir. But TP also said that the Hallow told them to tell you that he’s, quote, coming to take everything.”

Jackson laughed and then slammed his empty bottle of whiskey on the tile. “I can’t fuckin’ believe it.” He clapped his hands. “Bravo for you and your fuckin’ principles, kid. Using Erithist in a fight.” He spat. “Despicable. I’m gonna dice his head up into little slices, like the way you cut up a salami roll, know what I mean, Bart?”

“Yes, sir.”

“After I offered him a job too, man,” Jackson said. “I liked that kid. I really did. Now I hate him. I can’t wait to kill him.”

He jumped up, and the motion made him vomit all over his boots. “Ugh, I needed that. Fuckin’ Erithist.”

Jackson looked up at a bright light in the sky. At first, he thought a titanic fuckin’ god was spawning, with an eye the size of a mountain.

Then he realized what had happened.

The sheriff closed his eyes, rubbed the wound on his shoulder that was takin’ its sweet time healing. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. He opened his eyes.

“Bart,” Jackson said.

The man squeaked.

“Meet up with the boys when they get up here, then get Stondemaier, and set up shop in the throne room. Go right now, because I’m about to lose my fucking shit, and I don’t want to kill you.”

Bart was gone in a flash.

But the rage didn’t boil over. Jackson chuckled to himself. I already lost. Come get me, kid. Let’s see if this is the end of the line for me. Or the start of a new day.

You watchin’ me from hell, Pa? Lemme show you how a real man fights when his chips are down.

***

Beneath the burning afternoon sun, the escapees drifted back toward the ruined prison, like moths to a flame.

A cable car passed overhead. Through its window, they could see a bunch of Jackson’s officers packed inside. The prisoners threw some rocks at it, but it was too high up.

Brock rolled along behind Gwil, Leira, and Cort.

Leira laughed. “I wonder what all the townsfolk are thinking after that– Gwil! What is that sticking out of your chest?”

“Hm?” Gwil said, looking down. “Oh, that’s just my bones. I think I regrew my hand twice, and part of my foot, and maybe part of my intestine. Oh, I need to find my shoe!”

Leira grabbed Gwil’s hand, and he yelped. It was still all tender and pink.

She leaned close and began examining his chest, which was covered with red fissures and patches of writhing granulation tissue. His prison jumpsuit hung in tatters and held on only because the strips of cloth had been grafted into his flesh.

“Ugh, I didn’t realize it was so bad,” Leira said. “How are you standing up? How are you even alive?”

“It’s normal, isn’t it? You threw me off a cliff!”

“Fuck no, it’s not normal. Yes, all Hallows have regenerative abilities, but regrowing limbs and…” she poked her finger into a particularly deep wound, “mending organs in minutes? That’s not normal, not without years of training.”

“Ha! I guess I’m not too bad,” Gwil said.

“Well, it’s no surprise,” Leira said, wiping off her hand. “Ashkana knows what she’s doing.”

“Eh?” Cort grumbled. “What’ve you got to do with that madwoman?”

Leira whipped around and grabbed hold of Cort. “What have you got to do with her?”

Cort extracted himself from her. “Nothing. I don’t have anything to do with anyone. But it was a Vermin commander that hired me to steal some Kaia from this place, and then, argh…” he trailed off with a wave of his hand.

Leira smacked Gwil upside the head. “Did you know about that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I forgot.”

She smacked him again and then turned on Cort. “Listen here, Cortemius.”

“That’s not my name!”

Leira jabbed her finger into Cort’s chest. “If there’s anything in this World that you give a single shit about, you’ll take Gwil and I to this commander as soon as possible. In fact, we should probably leave immediately.”

“Nuh-uh,” Gwil said.

“Are you crazy?” Cort said. “I botched the job. I don’t wanna see that guy ever again. Prolly wants my head.”

“Moron! Gwil is chosen by Ashkana!” Leira shouted. “It is imperative that we find her, and this commander could help.”

“Hey,” Gwil said, scratching his chin. “What if Ashkana just wants to kill me or something?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Leira shrieked. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You are so stupid for even-”

Her outburst was cut off by a sniveling, whimpering cry.