Deep night shrouded the land, masking the flesh into seemingly harmless hills.

Camellia could see the truth of the pulsing formations. Luckily, so could the rest of her team. Benham, Adalhard, and the men wore night vision goggles. Out ahead, Benham took the best pair. Somewhere in the rear, Eva and Sten didn’t need help to see. They came equipped with built-in night vision, courtesy of their creators.

Camellia didn’t know how the goggles showed the land. She didn’t ask. Her night sight allowed her to see the world in shadows, like a picture in hues of gray.

The group traveled quickly, and everyone kept hold of their handkerchiefs. Every few hours, they took their anti-infection medicine, and Eva and Sten cleansed themselves.

Camellia listened hard to their surroundings, struggling to hear anything above the sound of Ul’thetos’ squelching flesh. She startled to hear voices but calmed when she realized her own team members spoke.

“We shouldn’t have left Rooks with any Lurrien synthetics,” Eva whispered.

“You’d like them all here? With us?” Sten whispered back. “I think your judgment is too harsh. You just witnessed all of the androids risk their lives for us, and now, they’ve volunteered to help.”

“I don’t trust them,” Eva said.

“Still?”

Eva must have answered with a nod or a shake of the head, but Camellia didn’t see.

“Quiet you two. I don’t want to be found by thralls,” Adalhard hissed. “I’m growing tired of my sword and gun and would rather employ my shovel and brush.”

“Yes, quiet,” Eva agreed.

The group traveled in silence. Benham left the team and scouted ahead. Often, he returned to offer a new path or direction, a sliver of excitement. Still, most of their journey took place among quiet shadows.

Camellia walked close to Adalhard, careful where she stepped. She tried not to think about their relationship and its origins or sincerity. She’d promised Cernunnos she would just enjoy it. She thought she already made a good effort. She just needed to keep it up.

The path widened, and Adalhard quickened his pace to walk beside her. Everyone paired off. Rooks’ men walked two by two, and Eva and Sten fell into step. Only Benham had no one. He trotted so far ahead, he was not in sight.

So distracted, Camellia was startled to find her hand in Adalhard’s. She let him hold it, enjoying the feel of her smaller hand in his, despite the presence of their thick gloves. She looked at him and found his night vision goggles staring back. She frowned, suddenly reminded of Alim. She preferred to see a person’s eyes. She read a lot from eyes. Perhaps, that was why she found Alim hard to be near.

“Are you alright?” Adalhard whispered.

She nodded and grasped his hand tighter.

Satisfied, Adalhard, once again, attended to their surroundings. Except now, they walked hand in hand, having a romantic stroll through the horrific landscape.

Ah’nee’thit would love this, Camellia thought. It’s just what he – it – wanted for us.

She painted a fantasy worthy of the creatures’ imaginations. Upbeat music played. She wore a beautiful dress of writhing flesh, and Adalhard had an outfit to match. Camellia peppered her imaginary landscape with lovers in the darkness, laying amid the squelching hills. She envisioned butterflies with dripping wings and red blossoms that opened and closed rapidly, also dripping blood.

A masterpiece. She smiled.

Adalhard nudged her. Camellia looked up, and he gave her a smile of his own. Camellia wondered what for. Her smile faded, and she stared at him with curiosity.

“What were you smiling about?” he whispered.

“Nothing really. The creatures mostly.”

Adalhard drew a sharp breath. “I’d really like to know what they’ve given you to smile about.”

“I was imagining a…pleasant walk, and we lived in Ah’nee’thit’s harmonious world.”

Adalhard’s mouth twisted into a hint of a smile. “Camellia, why?”

“Someone sounds like a hypocrite,” Eva called. “Quiet you two.”

That comment shut both anthropologists up, but Camellia thought about Adalhard’s question.

Why did she entertain thoughts of Ah’nee’thit’s paradise? Shouldn’t she be disgusted? Camellia knew she would never be a cultist. The creatures would have to convert her before that happened, but she didn’t hate Ul’thetos and Ah’nee’thit, unlike everyone else. Camellia found herself somewhere in between.

Benham greeted them on the path, and the trek halted. He waved for them to follow, and the group obeyed. For an hour, they kept up with his brisk pace, until they reached a large avenue.

The avenue was clear of living flesh and was instead speckled with thin necrotic streams. Tumbled buildings lined the street, and metal tiles paved the way. Light from the distant galaxies glinted off the tiles, hinting at their elaborate engravings.

The team collectively drew a breath, but none were as moved by the location as Eva. She stepped from the fallow soil onto the avenue and walked a few steps.

Camellia observed her friend’s face. She saw in Eva a mixture of awe, joy, and regret. This place was one Eva knew.

The entire team entered the wide street, still careful not to step on the necrotic flesh.

Camellia observed the beautiful tiles, tumbled buildings, and worn signs. On one broken sign, unfamiliar letters curled like smoke. From a building’s awning, black flesh dangled, like leaves. Tall posts, possibly former street lights, punctuated the path.

Camellia stood on tiptoe and whispered into Adalhard’s ear, “Pedestrian mall.”

He looked at her, smiled, and leaned close. “I was thinking the same. Shall we check our answer?”

Camellia’s brow furrowed. She was reluctant to disturb Eva’s moment. Still, Adalhard led her to Eva’s side. He waited, and Camellia was glad of it.

Eva spun in a dazed circle. “I haven’t seen this place since…” Her sentence trailed off, and she pointed to a far-off building. “When I was new, that place became covered in flesh. It threatened to spill across the river and infect this area too, but people still came here.”

“It’s a mall?” Camellia asked.

Eva ran her foot over the tile, caressing the metal with her shoe. “Yes. It’s a...mall. That store served ice cream and lubricant ice.” Eva pointed to half a building.

Camellia could just make out two large windows in the small structure.

“Lubricant ice?” Sten asked.

“Ice cream for synthetics,” Eva said.

Sten’s eyes grew wide. “I have never heard of such a thing. I find myself eager to try it.” He moved towards the ruined building.

“Infected probably,” a soldier warned him.

Sten stopped.

“The path goes northwest.” Adalhard looked at his compass. “What luck.”

Benham spread his hands wide. “Hey. Not luck. I’m doing my job.”

One of Rooks’ men said, “We should move.”

The group followed the order and walked in a loose formation, behind a confident Benham. He glanced back at the others and jogged ahead to scout more of the mall.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Again, Adalhard took Camellia’s hand, and she held it tight.

That’s right cling to him. Cling to him before he’s gone, just like this mall was for Eva. And, the only way you can get it back will be in ruins.

It was the exact wrong thing to think – if she wanted to uphold her promise to Cernunnos. But, in such a setting, Camellia allowed herself some sad thoughts.

They walked in peace. Rooks’ men watched the vacant shops, and the synthetics studied the avenue.

Like everyone else, Camellia studied her surroundings. She wanted to photograph the street, but with such little light, her camera would never depict what she could see with her own eyes.

Faded paint hinted at once rich colors. What now looked grey and brown was once blue and red. A wind chime fashioned out of gears swung in a doorway. The wind blew, and the chimes tinked, with both low and high notes. They sounded like the music of a Groazan summer night.

The deep tink tink piqued Adalhard’s interest. He glanced around for the noise, and Camellia pointed to the chime.

Adalhard spotted it and then returned the favor. He directed Camellia’s gaze to a fallen statue: a little, blushing robot with its rear panel open. Camellia smiled her thanks.

As Camellia observed the present and created a picture of the past, she briefly wondered whether Eva could cry.

It would be a shame if she couldn’t.

As they walked, Eva could see her past everywhere, as clear as an idyllic painting. From the ruins, her memories of buildings rose. Eva saw the places that should have been, sitting along the avenue, like a rainbow of ghosts.

Beside her, she pictured her creator. Cereus Dyelan had once been taller than Eva.

Much taller, Eva corrected herself.

She realized that she had never outgrew her creator. Eva, built day by day with an army of tiny nanites, had been something like a child. Though, Eva admitted she more resembled a doll.

People stopped to greet Eva, and she impressed them with knowledge an organic child could not possess. They never ceased to be impressed, but Eva recollected still more astonishment directed at her actual childlike qualities. She begged Cereus for a stuffed animal – a red dragon. She got it. She begged Cereus for lubricant ice and got that as well.

Cereus, auburn-haired and with a skin tone much like Eva’s, stood before the ice cream window. She put her chin in her hand and pondered the flavors.

Flavor was irrelevant for lubricant ice. Eva waited patiently while Cereus decided. Eva looked forward to the sensation of smoothness that would permeate her limbs once she got her ice. Cereus just needed to choose.

Sten touched Eva’s shoulder and swept the memory away. He held up a tablet. Typed across the surface, he had written: We will rebuild this place. A promise.

Eva looked at him, without optimism. Somewhat angry at having lost her thread of memory, she frowned.

His raised eyebrow suggested she keep a hopeful mind.

“Dead end,” Rooks’ man announced.

They had reached the last shops on the cul-de-sac. A great curve in the road circled the avenue back on itself. At the cul-de-sac’s center, a ruin waited. Once steps to a gazebo, the pile of rubble now led to a great necrotic tree.

Eva avoided the end of the street and turned to her left. She walked to a clear building and peered inside.

“Greenhouse,” whispered Adalhard.

“We can go through here,” Eva said. “It’ll allow us to continue northwest. But, where is Benham? We should wait for him.”

Rooks’ man nodded. “We’ll wait. He may have a better route. Stay close,” he ordered. He and his three men took up positions around the others.

Across the avenue, Eva heard a bang. The sound drew everyone’s attention, and everyone drew their weapons.

Eva held her small gun and staff. Sten hefted a freeze gun. Adalhard pulled his own modest freeze gun. Still, close at hand, Adalhard kept his flaming sword. Camellia got her only weapon in hand, her wind sword. By now, Camellia should know not to make whirlwinds and send creature particles on the breeze, so Eva said nothing.

Through ruined windows, Eva watched a creature. It jerked, jiggling its many branches.

“That’s not Benham,” Eva said.

The red eye of the once synthetic being gazed through the window and found them. It shrieked, half the creature’s high-pitched call and half the deep annoyance of a police bot.

“This converter will be strong,” Eva warned.

The group tightened its ranks and fired at the converter. More thralls staggered from the alleyways, and Rooks’ men spun around to face two or three from behind. None emerged from the greenhouse, but the farm shop disgorged one.

“I’ll take the converter.” Eva broke from the group and ran.

The men shot the thralls, slowing and frosting them, but the creatures reached their ranks. With electric swords and heavy batons, they cut the frozen things and continued to freeze more.

Eva left her friends, glancing back only once. She saw Camellia perform a flourish. A tornado grew into being and traveled down the avenue, back the way they’d come.

Eva almost yelled at her friend but saved her complaint. Camellia’s tornado caught a horde of thralls, more than eight people could ever handle. Eva needed to take care of the converter, and then, they had to leave.

“Get the greenhouse open!” Eva called. “If you succeed, just go through. I’ll catch up.”

Eva arrived at the police bot’s shop. She peered inside and saw the police bot advance on synthetic limbs and jerking tentacles. It didn’t come her way but, instead, headed for her friends.

Eva thrust her crystal staff into a pile of junk. The tins rattled, and the police automaton turned its red eye her way.

Still inside the ruined building, the thing tucked its branches to its frame and leapt out, through a hole.

Eva ran away from its landing point. A shot from Sten’s freeze ray zipped by and hit the converter in the chest. The nearly eight-foot creature slowed, but did not stop as it plodded on heavy feet toward Eva.

One branch shot forward, but Eva dodged. Sten shot the branch, and it frosted over. Eva dodged another branch and rolled back to the original, now stiff with frost. She brought her staff down hard. The police automaton’s limb shattered.

As Eva darted away, Sten froze three more branches. Eva ran back to smash another, but the police bot’s arm shot out and grabbed her staff.

Eva held tight and stood her ground. The bot yanked her close, and Eva almost lost her footing. A tentacle poised ready to strike.

The bot howled as a piece of concrete, complete with pipes, fell atop the ready tendril.

Eva looked up to find Benham on the roof, wielding a crow bar. Benham jumped down and smashed one of the frozen branches before it could melt free of its frost. Eva smashed another. The third thawed.

Adalhard shot two automatons. He let his gun fall to his side and, with his sword, batted the frozen enemies.

With Adalhard distracted, Camellia was free to fight like a dhampir savage. Unfortunately, the sun threatened to rise, so Camellia didn’t have much time to act out her barbaric plans.

She seized the moment and smashed an automaton with her sword. She kicked another, enjoying increased speed and strength. She peeked at the horizon and saw a hint of sun. Camellia’s next swing barely made it through an automaton’s arm. She pulled her sword free and performed a flourish instead. The automaton reached for her and then floated away on an aggressive breeze.

With her remaining speed, Camellia avoided a friendly freeze blast and ducked under an awning. The automatons roved by but didn’t take notice of her, which was probably a good thing.

Often, Camellia experienced the euphoria that came with each night’s increased speed and strength. She associated the feeling with dinner time and often delayed her meal to feel light and free. Seldom did she feel the draining energy that came at dawn. She usually slept through it. This adventure had changed that, and Camellia felt she knew the dawn sensation too well.

Her body adjusted to the coming day. Camellia quivered and struggled to hold her sword steady. She longed to find Adalhard.

All around, men fought. Sten and Adalhard stood too far away, but Camellia could reach Rooks’ men.

She watched as two of Rooks’ crew batted an unfrozen thrall between them. The thrall became dizzy, and Camellia wondered why they toyed with it.

She checked the battlefield and counted their attackers. Ul’thetos’ little party had thinned. The Lurrien side would win this battle.

Camellia sighed. She may be able to stay put, until the battle ended. Then, she could fall into someone’s arms and make them all question the wisdom of letting her step outside.

Rooks’ men froze the dizzy automaton, and without prompting, the thing fell to the ground.

Camellia performed a simple flourish, and her sword released tiny tornadoes.

Rooks’ men stepped aside, and the tornadoes scooped up the thralls.

Camellia watched. Then, she heard a creak and looked up.

Tornado wind had loosened a board, and she saw a thrall’s legs poke through the awning. The tentacles wriggled awkwardly. The awning groaned.

Camellia scolded herself for using wind magic on unstable structures, but she wouldn’t take the entire blame for this. What was an automaton doing up there?

Camellia tried to duck away, but one of her tornadoes whirled past, with two thralls in its clutches. As the awning collapsed, she threw her hands over her head.

The awkward thrall tumbled, thrown a few feet to the side. From under the awning, Camellia could see the dazed thing. She watched Rooks’ men destroy it and knew that they had come to her rescue. Then, she closed her eyes.

Eva watched the awning go down. For a moment, she froze. She just managed to dodge the police bot’s strike. The automaton had only two tentacles left. Both sought to convert Eva, but she wouldn’t let them.

“How do we kill this thing?” Benham asked.

The police bot’s head rolled off its shoulders and lay in the dirt. Eva looked at Benham, impressed at the successful beheading. Unfortunately, police bots kept their brains in their cores. They didn’t need their heads.

‘We’ll need to crush it. Follow me.” Eva took off towards the end of the alley.

The police bot leapt, soared over their heads, and landed in front of them.

“Why won’t it freeze?” Benham huffed.

“It’s generating a lot of heat. Besides, Sten hasn’t fired on it in ten minutes,” Eva said.

The police bot had overshot its jump and landed at the very back of the ruined gazebo. It towered over the rubble, rising on powerful metal legs and flesh-filled tentacles. The only things taller than the imposing bot were two pillars and a necrotic tree.

Eva drew her large gun and fired at both pillars. They collapsed inward and pinned the headless bot. It squirmed and tried to pull itself free. Eva stepped forward to destroy the bot’s core before it could rejoin the fight.

Then, she heard the tree groan. It was about to fall.

Eva backpedaled and gained distance from the branches. The trunk landed on the bot, with sparks and a smash. Behind the tree, Benham’s hunched silhouette grasped axe and crowbar.

“You didn’t touch it, did you?” Eva asked. She glanced behind her and found the rest of the team finished with their thralls.

“Of course not! You think I’m eager to caress this stuff?” Benham called.

“Take an extra dose of medicine,” Eva ordered.

Benham sighed.

Eva ran to the crashed awning. Rooks’ men had dragged Camellia from the rubble. She was breathing but unconscious. No blood ran from her head, but Adalhard held a frozen cloth to it.

“Just a bad bump on the head. Her neck and spine seem fine.” Adalhard looked at Sten, suggesting that Sten had made the evaluation. Then, Adalhard looked at Camellia. “She might be out for a while.”

“We need to move. Keep playing the game,” Rooks’ man said.

“I’ll carry her.” Sten knelt and prepared to scoop up Camellia. “Once we’re away from here, we can find a place to camp. But, where to?”

Benham walked over, taking his extra dose of medicine. “I know where to go. Over the greenhouse.” He pointed in the exact direction that Eva wanted to travel.