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Marc and Toothland
Nine to Five - Part 2

Nine to Five - Part 2

Tentatively, Nova could feel her connection to Marc. Their [Soulbond] connected them across time and space in inscrutable ways she could never hope to understand or express, but she felt it inside of her, like a link, lightly tugging her in his direction.

She elected to ignore it. Sentience was a strange and peculiar thing, and she felt a gnawing for new information, things to look at, places to see. She stuck to the side of a brick building, her slime inundating the gaps between mortar and each slab of stone. Every part of her body was a hand, fingers latching onto tiny footholds only elite climbers could make use of. In no time she’d hauled herself up to the top, six stories up, and she sat on the edge of the building and scanned the entire area around her. The shipping containers were reminiscent of toy blocks, and a mix of forest and beaches stretched to the left and right, all the way to the horizon.

The port itself was a chaotic clusterfuck of activity, men and women running around with high-vis glow sticks and leading industrial machinery forward. Towering cranes ferried the rectangular boxes around the asphalt platform, loading new products onto massive ships that were taller than the buildings she sat upon. It was like little ants scurrying to and fro in service of their queen.

A closer look revealed a bit of a different story. Amidst the hubbub, a few people appeared to move differently to the rest. One of them walked slowly, a lazy gait carrying him between stacks of containers and past ignorant port workers. Another, a woman, swiftly slipped between stacks of boxes, winking out of view for a moment before reappearing with various goods in her hands. Nova could see her lurking at the edges of the port where people least visited.

A hint of movement caught her eye, preventing her from dropping down to get a closer look. Nova was currently on top of a residential apartment building perched on a concrete cliffside that overlooked the entire port, granting her a great view of everything. That was why she chose this spot to climb to. It seemed that something else must have had the same idea, because peering over the edge revealed something strange; there was an eyestalk protruding from the brick wall, between two spaced-out windows. It wasn’t very large, only about the size of a human hand, but it was a maroon red.

Clearly it was made out of blood. Nova had eaten enough animals to instinctively sense the scent of iron. Curiously, the eyestalk was bent, its stem curving to allow the eye to stare downwards at the seaport below. Every few seconds it would turn its gaze left or right, as if keeping track of the people below. She was tempted to reach down and grab it, but she didn’t really know what it was, or what it did, or how dangerous it was. Why was it observing the harbor?

Perhaps it would be better for her to pretend like she’d not seen it and chase down one of the suspicious fellows down below, or to report what she’d seen to Marc.

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She reached down and grabbed the eyestalk anyway. It wriggled in surprise in her slimy hands, only sinking deeper into her body with the struggle. The eye pointed every which way in a familiarly human terror, before she digested the entire thing with acid. It tasted like blood, alright. Nova turned around to leave, only to bump into a purple figure as large as her. It had a similar color palette, being deeply violent, but unlike her seemed to hold real stars in its body. It was the figure of a man, almost transparent, like a section of space shrunk down and delivered to Earth.

The featureless humanoid lifted both hands and SHOVED. The sudden force nearly sent Nova toppling over the edge, if not for how goopy and unsolid she was currently. The way her lower legs merged into one giant pillar of slime that stuck to the roofing shingles kept her barely affixed to the building. The strange man’s hands sunk into her slimy body, quickly beginning to corrode from her digestive juices. Despite the lack of facial features of any kind, it swore, backing up and withdrawing a knife from his coat pocket.

She ignored the brandished blade and plastered him to the roof with a tackle. Her new height and density from all the food she’d eaten meant he struggled to move through the viscous slime, the blade dulling from the acid eroding its edge. Actually, the knife was made of the same substance the man was. She could break it down, but derived no nutritional value from consuming it. There was a puff as the purple man vanished from under her, leaving her confused and alone.

There was no one else around her, no vector from which someone could be attacking her. Did he teleport away? Where had he gone? She peered down below, spotting the man from earlier, as he power-walked towards the nearest exit. The woman who was blinking in and out of shipping containers disappeared into the urban landscape, making pursuit impossible. Nova could bug the remaining male for his suspected involvement in this suspicious activity… but if she was at risk of being attacked again, it might be better to regroup.

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Always strike while the iron is hot, some people like to say. Nova did not know of the saying, but the spirit was there. If she didn’t do something now, she wouldn’t get the chance to. The prey would escape, and she’d become a very good hunter before being [Soulbond]ed.

She slid down the sheer cliff face that the apartment building sat upon, high above the harbor, hitting the ground with a wet splat. With concerted effort, she compressed the gel-like substance of her body into a tighter, compacted form. Now that her slime felt more like human flesh to the touch, she could run at a much higher speed than before, sprinting around corners to chase down the man she saw. With powerful leaps she could vault up onto shipping containers for a better view of the target.

There! She could see him on the precipice of leaving the area. He had dodged attention so far, if not because of his skill, definitely because of Nova attracting the eyes of every employee at the port. They did not care enough to stop her. She wasn’t actively breaking anything, and they weren’t paid to deal with Empowered trespassing on private property.

She noticed a few things on approach. First, that he looked like a dad. A generic plaid shirt, green with white squares, complemented the drab beige slacks he wore. Scruffy brown hair accompanied a pair of cheap sunglasses to keep out the sun. Most notably, he sported a bit of a beer gut, noticeably heavier than the average Joe. When she reached him, she grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around so that they were face to face.

“Who you?”

He clearly wasn’t prepared for a bipedal slime to start questioning him in the middle of town. His voice grew slightly heated as he tried to maintain his calm, collected demeanor.

“What’re you… who are YOU? I was just here to have a talk with the manager.”

“Suspicious…”

“Suspicious? You don’t even look human.”

Nova looked down at her “arms” and “legs”, checking to see if she had her proportions right. She did. In fact, they were so right that she had the shape of a supermodel. How could he find flaw in a perfect form?

“I’m human shape.”

“But you’re bald, you speak like a toddler, and your body is clearly not made out of skin or muscles or bones.”

She felt hurt and kind of wanted to eat him. Even if that was against the rules, according to Marc. Speaking of, here he was now, running around the corner to wave at her.

“Nova, where’ve you been! You were supposed to come listen to the briefing from the site manager! Sir, I’m very sorry for the trouble.”

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Nova refused to let go, latching onto his shirt and pointing at him.

“He suspicious!”

“Nova, he looks like the most normal guy I’ve ever seen. Do you need any help, sir?”

“No, I’m alright,” said the plaid man, “I’m just on my way out after talking to the foreman.”

“Well, we’ll be out of your hair. Nova, let’s go.”

Nova shook him a little by the shirt, frustrated.

“He say manager! No foreman!”

“He said ‘foreman’ just now, Nova. Don’t be an ass.”

“No, no, before, he say manager!”

Nova’s inability to English properly irritated the guy, as well as drawing eyes from the workers who were more than happy to pause whatever boring work was going on to watch the altercation.

“Okay, fine. We’ll have the others interrogate him and then we can let him go.”

“You’re not a police officer,” said the man. “You can’t just detain people on the street.”

Marc hesitated, reluctantly retrieving a walkie-talkie in his pocket. It made a scratching static noise as he turned it on.

Marc: [Guys, Nova found some guy that she really thinks is a suspect. What do I do?]

Alex: [Bring him over. What makes him so suspicious anyway?]

Marc: [He said he was leaving after talking to the foreman, but Nova says he claimed to have talked to the manager instead. Also, he doesn’t want to go.]

Aliza: [Good thing you passed the radios around. More secure than just a phone call.]

Alex: [We’re meeting up with the site manager right now, lemme ask him if he’s talked to anybody. Just haul his ass over here. You’re authorized to use force.]

That was all the confirmation he needed. He put the radio away and grabbed the man by the wrist.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’ve been told to bring you back for questioning. There’s been major theft around here lately, so we can’t let you leave yet.”

“Look, man, I was trying to be nice to you, but you can’t just start grabbing people. I’m calling the police if you don’t let go.”

Marc definitely did not want the police on his ass. Simultaneously, he didn’t want to be held accountable by Alex for fucking up. The walkie-talkie turned on in his pocket and he had to lift it to his ear, the plaid-shirt man yanking his arm out of Marc’s grasp and beginning to walk away.

Alex: [The site manager was surprised. He said that some other guy and his posse came by five minutes earlier claiming to be us. Whoever you have over there, don’t let him get away.]

Marc’s eyes flicked up to the guy. Nova was currently grabbing him by the arm and shirt, trying to wrestle him to the ground, which was harder than she thought, as she did not know any techniques.

“Nova, bring him with us. Alex wants to see him.”

She turned to tell him yes; that was when she spotted him. Appearing from behind a shipping container was the starry figure from earlier, weapon in hand, meters away from Marc and approaching him. It made almost no sound, so Marc surely did not hear it coming from behind to shank him. Keenly, she could suddenly feel every sensation of the man struggling in her hands and the shotgun buried in her gut.

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“BEHIND YOU!”

Marc’s surprise washed over him in a wave, swerving around to avoid the knife swinging in to sever a crucial artery. He backpedaled just in time for the blade to miss, sliding down his chest in a sweeping motion and a spray of blood. The pain was immediate; a sharp burning enveloped his chest, making it hard to breathe. This was the first real pain he’d felt since the forest, and the blowback shot through the [Soulbond] and struck Nova right in the soul.

It was an agony she could not have prepared for, being a slime without pain receptors. It wasn’t anything she could suppress, for it came directly from the soul. For a moment she lost cohesion, becoming a dripping sculpture of slime and ooze. The man she was holding tore himself from her grasp, trying to flee. He couldn’t get around the corner before Nova tackled him in an acidic hug, melting away at his skin.

“Help! Over here!” cried the man, the astral projection looking up to see his friend being mauled to death. He tried to shove past Marc, only to be grabbed by the wrist and sliced in half by the energy blade on Marc’s arm. The bulletproof vest was torn from the brutish strength of the purple figure, but it had stopped before striking anything vital. It had done its job well.

His breaths were short and shallow, as he fumbled in his pocket for the civilian stim he kept on him at all times. He pricked himself in the chest with the needle and immediately felt an agonizing burn all across the wound. It was just like alcohol being dumped over the torn flesh. Skin healed at a rate visible to the naked eye, and by the time Marc stumbled to where Nova was torturing the poor guy there was only slight scarring across his torso.

“Don’t kill him, Nova. We need to bring him with us.”

She relented, but in the brief period she had him buried under her slime his skin was already burned down to the nerve in some places. There was no running that he could do, not in the condition he was currently at. Nova lifted him while in solid form, hefting the man over her head in a vice grip. The threat of being stabbed by an energy blade kept him from trying another escape.

“So he could appear here now? At any time?” said Alex, nervously scanning his surroundings.

“That’s what Nova said to me. He appeared behind me all of a sudden and almost got me. Good thing I bought this vest, even if it’s not great against Empowered.”

The site manager scratched his head in confusion, staring at the guy that’d been detained. He was handcuffed and guarded by the squad on all sides to ensure no escape attempts.

“Well, if what you’ve said is true, none of us are safe. I’ll call my employers. We run a tight ship at Lansierre Transport; no armed criminals on our watch.”

“Thank you, site manager,” said Aliza, “So what do we do with this guy? He’s clearly in on it if he called out for help to the mysterious purple fellow.”

They all stared at the criminal, head down and trying to avoid eye contact.

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Imacula withdrew a wicked dagger, an ornate piece of artwork covered in decorative imagery and gold leaf. It glittered in the light of the small room they’d dragged the captive into to ensure their safety.

“I AM WILLING TO TAKE ON THE RESPONSIBILITY OF INTERROGATING THE SUSPECT.”

The man trembled, scooching into a corner to gain as much distance from the cultist as possible.

“Now now,” said Aliza, “I’d hate to have you do all the work yourself, especially as a newbie.”

“NO, I INSIST. IT’S ONLY RIGHT AS A NEW HIRE THAT I RELIEVE MY SENIORS OF UNNECESSARY BUSYWORK. ISN’T THAT RIGHT, ALEX?”

Alex was inspecting the damage done to the bulletproof vest Marc had been wearing. After taking it off, it was clear that whatever stabbed him did so with enough force to dent steel. For Marc to have taken the hit head-on and not suffered a fatal injury was well-worth every penny he’d spent on the thing.

“Yeah, sure, if you’re up for it. Aliza, can you watch them and make sure they don’t get backstabbed by our mysterious purple teleporting assassin friend?”

“I guess you’re going off to go find them?”

“Apparently it’s been ‘killed’ twice. When it dies it has to return to somewhere, and I’m betting that somewhere is near here.”

“Not by yourself, right?” said Marc.

“Of course not. I can hold my own but I’d rather not get backstabbed. You and Nova come with me. You’ve both fought it before, I’ll defer to your judgment.”

“Do we bring anyone else?”

“Do you want to?”

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“No, it’s fine, I was just wondering.”

“Then let’s move out.”

They stepped out of the small office space for the site manager, noticing the frantic unease of all the workers. Almost universally they were all on edge, eyes flicking back and forth and generally being a lot more jumpy from sudden sounds.

“So… how are we gonna find this person? There’s probably others with them, too, so we have to be careful,” said Marc, concerned.

“Combing through the shipping containers, probably.”

“One by one? That’ll take ages!”

Alex held up a strange device to him, a nailgun in appearance with a bowl-shaped protrusion on the front. He placed it up against the corrugated metal of the nearest container, pulling the trigger with a soft click. Marc heard a quiet thrum reverberate through the metal and the ground, traveling outwards and fading away before anyone else could notice. Alex held that position for a second before backing away.

“No life signs inside,” he said.

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“Site manager’s special scanner. Checks a ‘room’ beyond the wall. Says it’s for preventing human trafficking.”

Alex tossed him a spare thingamajig, watching Marc fumble nervously as he almost dropped the gadget.

“Be careful with those. They’re Tinker-made, so they cost quite a bit to replace.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Nova, can you watch out just in case the guy comes back?”

She nodded, shotgun in hand. Marc sighed a long sigh, glumly scanning the shipping container he was closest to.

“Hey, Alex, I take this row, you take that row?”

“Yeah, sure. Yell if you find anything.”

Yeah, right. Like anyone would choose to hide inside of a shipping container. Regardless, he kept scanning. It was an easy way to earn his pay, if anything.

# For now, let us leave them to their tasks at hand. Elsewhere, trouble brews.

Deep in the Midwest, the city of Plainshold rests amongst expansive fields of perennial ryegrass and Kentucky bluegrass. Massive walls of rock-solid reinforced concrete loom over the rolling flatlands, where the nearest forest can barely be seen in the distance. A canal carries water to the city, and employees of the Wall Collective can be seen all across the wall. They know what is to come; it comes every year. This year?

It comes early.

Like always, the early warning systems kick into gear before anyone sees anything. The alarms begin to blare, and the city residents scurry to their homes. The Wall Collective’s garrison arms themselves, and from your bird’s eye view of the metropolis you can see everyone forming up on the battlements. That should be enough context, I think. I pinch your view between two fingers, carrying you down to the mind of a soldier. There’s a snap, and then

## [YOU ARE TROOPER #7263]

A plasma rifle rests heavy in your hands; it’s your standard issue weapon for the job. Above, you can see the sun begin to vanish behind black clouds. This’ll be the first time you face the Dust for real, and you’re nervous. To your left, a man holds a handheld railgun, grim-faced.

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You turn to him, the blue glow of his weapon lighting up the contours of your face.

“Have you… done this before?”

He doesn’t move a muscle, staring off to the horizon as he replies.

“Too many times before. I can tell you’re new.”

Quickly, he checks his weapon, ensuring that the battery is firmly connected to the coils. The barrel itself seems to be connected via a tube to a backpack, allowing for greater ammo capacity.

“Don’t think, just fire,” he says, “Hesitation is what kills in this line of work.”

“I had no choice but to take this job. No one else would hire someone with no degree like me.”

“That’s how it is, son. No one stands on the walls ‘cause they want to. Only ‘cause someone has to. Your gun ready?”

You fumble with the high technology, peeking at the beaming display on the side of the weapon. All diagnostics return no error, and all systems seem nominal. The green glow of the energy within tells you it’s working fine.

“Ready enough, I think.”

“Good. I’ve seen more than a few good men slaughtered after forgetting to check their weapon every day. Remember, kid, one mistake is all it takes.”

The words of wisdom only serve to rattle your nerves more, and your grip on the rifle trembles tenuously at the thought of the danger ahead. Above, the sky darkens further, until the world becomes as dark as twilight. Around you a wave of uncertain caution washes over the men and women who stand upon the walls. They seem to sense it coming before you do. You unhook a pair of binoculars from your hip, bringing it up to your eyes. The forest seems silent at first. You blink, and then you can make out pinpricks of light, little eyes in the darkness past the treeline. When you stumble backwards, the man with a railgun catches you.

“Careful. Don’t worry about the eyes. You see Voidmen sometimes, but they don’t attack. The other ones are what we should be worrying about. Guns up; they’re here.”

He points into the distance. Even without the binoculars you can see them. From the trees, dogs twice the size of lions sprint forth in a sudden invasion. They’ve barely left their cover before the wall guards begin firing. A storm of plasma rains down among the monsters at the same time as the heavens open up, a light sprinkle rapidly approaching torrential deluge. Through the chaos you can begin to make out their forms more accurately; the dogs are jet-black, with small white orbs for eyes. Their fur, their bodies, everything is made of some unknown substance that appears as black dust.

You can’t freeze up now. He said that hesitation would be the end of you. You raise your rifle, aiming down the sights to line up the shot, when a keening noise breaks through the white noise of the rainfall. As limited as your sight is, you can still see strange birds made of the same black dust swooping down towards you. It’s a whole flock, diving for the walls. The smallest among them are as large as a person, and a few of them are particularly massive, large enough to hold one or two of the dogs in their claws.

The names pop into your head in an instant. Where Voidmen are little known about, lurking in the darkness, the Voidhounds are always plentiful, fanning out to attack anything human in sight. The Dustwings are much the same, ready to tear off hands and rip out eyes, or in some cases drop Voidhounds behind human lines. You’ve heard the stories of people fighting them, and now they’re right in front of you, forcing you into a dilemma of target priority.

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You swing the barrel of your plasma rifle up and fire, only a slight recoil nudging your aim. You’ve forgotten to change the setting, and the burst-fire mode spits gouts of superhot gas into the rain. It splashes across the bodies of the larger Dustwings, and more than a few swerve to avoid being hit. The ones unfortunate enough to be tagged quickly fall apart, crashing into the ground or the walls. Because of this, a few Voidhounds are dropped prematurely, hitting the ground with sickening crunches that leave them crippled.

Smaller ones are harder to hit. You can’t seem to nail ‘em with your shots, especially in the encroaching fog and torrential downpour. The urge to dive to the ground to dodge their approach causes you to freeze for a second, and right before one of them nails you a shock wave washes over the area, throwing Dustwings off-course and sending you stumbling. Scrambling to your feet, you can faintly see the outline of a grenade tracing its way through the air before detonating.

Airburst grenades: your savior! The birds split up and fly to the sides to avoid being knocked out of the air. You take shots at them, clipping a few, when a bolt of electricity zips into the sky to arc between a couple of Dustwings, virtually disintegrating them in midair. You can feel the charge in the air, tingling on your skin with the potential energy. That should be enough to hold them back; best to fire upon the dogs instead. Whatever tesla is responsible for the bolts of lightning can’t seem to lock-on. The time between firing is too long, and the electricity grounds itself to the dirt the moment it does hit a target.

Peeking over the edge you can more clearly see the Voidhounds. They’re rough-edged and altogether messy, as if they were scribbles torn from a sketchbook and shaped by trembling hands. The telltale contours of a snout and a mouth are all you can clearly make out; the rest of the detail is buried in a visually indistinct ‘fur’ coat. They’ve reached the walls, scrabbling at the stone in an attempt to drag themselves up. It’s easy target practice for you and the others around you, plasma rifles tearing apart the bodies of a hundred, two hundred, three hundred canine monsters.

The topsoil shudders, and large spiders suddenly begin to unearth themselves from the dirt beneath! These ones don’t seem to sport any webbing, but they can dig fast, and crawl faster. Already a few of them burrowing out of the soil near the wall are scaling it, chittering as they do so.

“Blackspider wave coming!” cries a voice, “Engage the boilers!”

Little holes in the side of the city wall reveal their purpose. Real, honest to god boiling oil begins to pour from the slits, coating the wall in a slippery, burning, fiery mess. Some of the spiders falter as predicted, slipping off or having their legs burnt to the point of unusability. A fair few of them seem to have thicker legs, though, hooked feet carving footholds into the stone and continuing their climb, albeit at a slower pace. Another voice cuts through the pounding rain.

“Contact with new evolution confirmed! Redirect fire to the armored ones!”

The blackspiders were ordinarily quite fragile. Unfortunately, this year’s mutation once again threw a wrench into the Wall Collective’s plans of a clean annual sweep. The Armored Blackspiders went down fine enough, as more and more guns went from the dogs to the bugs. Idly, you wondered what the point of the Voidhounds were every year. Few make it into the city, ever since the wall was built tall enough and perfected. The Dustwings could only so much, and the spiders struggled to carry any over the walls themselves.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

You feel it before you hear it. You hear it before you see it.

### THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Even on top of the wall you can feel its weight, the thunderous impact of massive feet hitting the ground. You don’t have to wonder long about the cause, for they appear in front of you moments later.

That is NOT a Voidhound, you think, the giant versions of their normal counterparts coming into view. Without the storm, they would probably appear to be even more majestic. In front of you, you can see five, humongous creatures big enough to bully elephants. Are they ten, fifteen, twenty meters tall? You don’t know for sure, but the man to your left changes targets on instinct. Even the largest spiders aren’t worth the trouble if it means he can stall these dangerous beasts for even an additional second. You can hear cries of surprise dimly in your ears at the unexpected complication. The company must not have known about these: another new mutation. Could they even stop it?

The squad bounds closer to your location; they’re coming right for you. The math runs through your head in a millisecond, and you know their weight and power could definitely collapse the section of the wall you’re standing on. You’ll have to do something, or you’ll end up being turned to paste.

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No time to think; you aim and pull the trigger. You kind of already guessed the outcome, though. As expected, the massive Wallbreaker Voidhounds are a little more resilient than the normal variety. Despite the heavy surface burns across the face of the leading Wallbreaker, it pressed on, blinded in one eye. Their beeline for the walls made the five a major target, drawing fire for a mile along the wall.

Even as they were peppered with plasma in a wide cone, they pressed onward. The sheer volume of fire seared the facial features of the leader beyond recognition, and they quickly fell out of line, unable to keep up. It stumbled and collapsed, injured but not dead. The other four continued to charge, even as a large turret emplacement slowly rose from one of the battlements.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Commence first test of embedded railcannon! All personnel clear the area!”

The speakers cut through the white noise of the rain’s torrent, the whirring of machinery forewarning the following shot.

# CRACK!

The deafening sound of arcing electricity fried his ears; it almost fried the railcannon as well, if it weren’t for the reinforcement of an Empowerment. The tungsten missile slammed into a second Wallbreaker, the sheer force splitting its head open like an overripe watermelon. The remaining three brushed past the rapidly disintegrating corpse of their fallen sibling, slamming into the wall with enough force to crack it. The entire section of wall trembled dangerously as the force of three giant monsters reverberated through the structure.

And yet, the walls were still too tall for them to climb. Great swings of their claws tore gashes in the barrier, and every time they threw their weight against it the stone and concrete shuddered dangerously. Then there was a chittering of a Blackspider pulling itself over the edge of the wall, sinking its mandibles into the arm of the more experienced man at your side. He cries out in pain at the same time you bring your rifle to bear.

“Hey, you okay?”

You help him up by his good arm. What’s left of the Blackspider that hasn’t already been vaporized is rapidly disintegrating in front of you, leaving a puddle of dust on the stone.

“I’m alright, but I’m in no condition to keep firing. Those massive Voidhounds… the wall isn’t going to last long. We’ve got to go.”

The urgency in his eyes is clear; you are not safe. You should just run and live another day.

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“No, I must remain. The citizens are at my back. I must defend the city at all costs!”

You pick up his handheld railgun, dropping your weapon to slip on his backpack. He doesn’t move to reclaim his weapon, merely stumbling to the stairs.

“You will die for your bravery, kid. It ain’t worth it.”

“It’s too late. I’ll hold them off. Go, sir!”

The veteran grumbles and departs, but doesn’t stop you. Peeking over the edge of the wall, you stabilize yourself as the shockwave of another collision nearly sends you careening over the edge. Carefully, you aim and fire; a direct shot to an eye! A Wallbreaker Voidhound howls in pain as its white eye bursts from the force. In the distance, you see the Wallbreaker that was left behind obliterated by a shot from the emplaced railcannon.

The weapon charges, and a second shot numbs your hands as you blast the injured Wallbreaker with a second shot. Along with the supporting fire of everyone else, it finally collapses, beginning the disintegration process as its brothers rammed the wall again in unison. Cracks spread from the point of impact, and a terrific rumbling precedes the sudden collapse of the section of the wall you’re standing on. For a second, you’re in freefall, and then you hit the rubble and feel bones breaking. The Wallbreakers pay you no notice, simply rushing through the hole into the city. The waves of smaller Voidhounds funnel to the gap in the wall, and even as the garrisons deploy in full force to stem the tide, the dogs are on you, tearing at your flesh. You don’t even manage last words as your body is torn apart.

# Returning to the previous host…

Blink. You’re back to spectating Marc. Currently, he’s just finished scanning his row.

“Come on, Alex, we’ve been at it forever. I’m pretty sure they’re not in any of these crates.”

“You can never be too sure. It pays to be thorough, trust me.”

Nova began to grow bored of watching them repeat the same muscle movements on every single shipping container in the harbor. What to do while they continued to mess around…

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Marc did tell her to stay with him, just in case of attack. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about watching the two men stick a device against a plethora of metal surfaces and standing there, though. The both of them were arguing what to do next as she flopped over, stomach down, onto a shipping crate to watch them bicker.

“We should just keep an eye on all the crates! Then we can catch them when they steal! There’s no way they’re remotely teleporting everything out of here.”

Alex looked disapprovingly at him. “We’d have to have Imacula spewing out eyes everywhere, and I don’t think they can watch every single one simultaneously. There will definitely be some blind spots.”

“Okay, well, you got a better idea? We’ll be robbed blind before we find them!”

Alex couldn’t argue with that assessment, so he begrudgingly gave in. In one smooth motion he whipped out his radio and spoke into the microphone.

“Alex here. Can you tell Imacula to deploy his eye-friends outside? We need a scan of the whole site to catch these guys.”

[Oh, perfect timing! Don’t have to do that, Imacula managed to beat the answers out of this guy. They’re smuggling shit to the lot south of here, where the trucks park for unloading. They’re in one of the trucks. Go, now! We’ll head there as well after making sure this guy doesn’t get away.]

Aliza cut the connection, and Alex sighed and let his hand drop, only static coming from his walkie-talkie.

“You heard her. Unloading area south of here. Let’s go.”

“Alright. Nova, up, we’re heading out.”

She popped up enthusiastically, excited to do literally anything other than laze around. Ironically, despite her weight, she was the fastest of the three, able to sprint for much longer than the other two. In the end, she had to stop often to wait for them to catch up. By the time they DID reach the loading dock, the sun was low in the sky, casting a 5 PM shadow over the lot. A fair few trucks sat around, some idling, others in the process of transferring cargo.

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“Nova, can you clap your hands together really hard?”

She did as Marc commanded, bringing her palms into a loud slap that was more reminiscent of a gunshot than anything vaguely human. All the heads of every employee turned at once for Marc to speak up.

“Alright, everyone! I’m gonna have to ask you all to open up the trucks. We’re conducting a thorough inspection of the premises due to an uptick in criminal activity.”

There were groans and sighs of displeasure at being interrupted on the job, but resisting was hard and it was way easier to do what they were told and apologize to any managers later. Alex let out a heavy exhale as he watched the employees get to work.

“You realize you’ve thrown away any chance at a surprise attack? Now they definitely know we’re here.”

“Well, we’ll flush them out and shoot them with our guns if we have to. Right, Nova?”

She lifted the shotgun in her hands in agreement. More than a few workers were put at unease by the slime woman with a gun in her hands. One of the trucks, on its way out, nearly bumped Marc as it was driving away.

“Watch the road, asshole!” he cried, shaking a fist at the departing vehicle.

He paused a second, the wind taken out of his sails. He turned back to stare at the retreating truck, before running over and thoughtfully extending his energy sword to slice through one of the tires. There was the hiss of burning rubber, and then the whole thing came to a halt from the destroyed wheel.

Alex was gobsmacked. “What the hell, Marc?”

“It could’ve had the bad guys inside! I didn’t have a choice!”

“You can’t just go around destroying shit!”

A flicker of movement caught Nova’s eyes, and she saw a bit of gray peeking out of the truck’s window. Instinctually, she shoved Marc forward and out of the way of the bullet that struck her in the stomach, burying itself in the slime. In a second Alex had his basalt sword drawn, and Marc stumbled backwards with his ballistic buckler fully unfolded. The sound of the pistol froze everyone in place, uncertain. Nova had only the briefest of intervals to consider her next move.

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She loaded the gun with buckshot, firing once, twice through the thin metal covering of the truck. It was a cacophony of metal bits rattling around inside the truck, accompanied by cries of alarm. Simultaneously, Marc chose to charge up to the truck’s cabin, shield unfolded and energy blade in hand. He was a little faster than he’d expected, filled with a sudden energy he attributed to adrenaline. The shooter clearly wasn’t expecting him to zip up to him so fast, falling backwards in his chair while he aimed his shot. The identity of the gunman was… well, impossible to tell. Marc blinked as he tried to keep a bead on the man, but all the details of his clothing, stature, even the color of his skin slipped his mind the moment he tried to think about it.

The only constant he could see was the mask on his face. Inscribed on the white material was a black eye, shut with long eyelashes. Everything else about the man was unmemorable, to the point where it was impossible for Marc to keep the information in his head.

No time to think about it. He leapt up into the driver’s seat with uncharacteristic vigor, whipping his ballistic shield through the window. A bang preempted a crunch; the reflexive shot from the pistol bounced off the sloped paneling of the unfolded buckler, and the shield continued in its path to slam the guy’s nose. It was a satisfying feeling, watching the guy fall over backward. Before he could regain his senses Marc had already clambered through the broken window to place the energy blade at the shooter’s throat.

Meanwhile, the back of the truck slid open. Alex instinctively took cover by standing back against the truck’s exterior to avoid the enemy’s field of view. Nova had no such inhibitions, quickly hauling herself up into the opening. Inside she was greeted by a plethora of stolen goods, as well as two women and a man, all wearing the same infuriating mask. It didn’t bother Nova very much. She just leapt at the guy, who was sitting slumped over in a corner.

Alex could hear the sounds of more gunshots from the truck right after Nova leapt inside, and he made to follow her in as support, only to narrowly dodge a knife aimed for his throat. From around a nearby shipping container, the astral projection appeared again, multiple knives in hand.

“Not that it matters, but—you missed.”

The ethereal purple figure seemed almost annoyed. Alex gave him no time to breathe, forcing the man to deflect his dark basalt blade with a pair of daggers. Alex hung just out of his reach, pressuring him with jabs and short swings to bait out another dagger throw. The man was smart enough not to fall for it, so both circled the other, too cautious to make any reckless moves.

Nova just punched the unconscious man inside the truck. His head snapped to the side from the blow, but he didn’t wake up. She would have tried again if multiple pistol shots didn’t sink into her body; one of them clipped her human brain. There was no pain, but her senses suddenly spun and she found it harder to maintain consciousness. Dazed, she spat acid in their general direction. The corrosive liquid splashed across the two women, and whoever had the gun dropped it in their haste to clean themselves.

A jacket fell to the floor, and one of the weird closed-eye masks. Now, Nova could identify one of the women. She wore a strange mix of a hazmat suit and a two-piece, as well as a tank of maroon red liquid on her back. Nova instantly recognized it as having the viscosity of blood. That was all she could catch, unfortunately. The woman who still had a mask grabbed the shoulders of the lady with the hazmat suit and both vanished from view.

Alex saw the movement of the two women appear in the lot, a short distance away. Both ran for their lives, but his desire to chase them down was snuffed in an instant by a testing feint from his astral opponent. Marc likewise was holding the other guy down, and refused to move, lest his prey escape.

Now, Nova was left alone. It did not escape her notice, then, that if she dragged the alive, but asleep, man into the corner, behind the pile of goods, she might be able to eat the man before he woke up… But she also might get into serious trouble.

----------------------------------------

Ah, well, you only live once, right? That phrase popped into her head for a moment, though she wasn’t quite sure when or where from. Probably from the memory of that assassin she ate. How many memories could she salvage from this man? She didn’t exactly have the luxury of time on her side, so Nova decided it would be best to eat the brain first.

It was all too simple to puddlify herself and begin dissolving the eyes, whereupon she ate away at the fragile flesh beneath and easily reached the brain. She absorbed all the cerebrospinal fluid around the wrinkled gray matter, surrounding it with a thin layer of her own slime. It was slower than she liked, but that was the consequence of spreading herself so thin. Breaking down the nerves was slow going, as she tried to memorize and replicate the tiny electric patterns present between them. To say it was difficult was an understatement; interrupting and ruining circuits of memories was all too common of an occurrence, but she tried to stitch them together anyway.

Marc could do nothing but let the two women get away. Hazmat suit, two piece, tank of blood on her back. Those were the details he carved into his skull for later. For now he tried to choke out the struggling man beneath him.

“DO NOT RESIST. You’re under arrest, comply or I’ll have to use lethal force!”

Alex was in a similar position, attempting to strike at the starry purple humanoid in front of him. Whoever it was gripped the handles of their knives tighter as their two teammates slipped away into the urban cityscape. With unexpected vigor, the figure leapt for Alex’s throat; he parried one blade with one hand and knocked the other arm away with his furry hand-paw.

The man brought his arm up to catch the basalt sword and deflect the edge and followed with a counter-stab that Alex caught with his free hand-paw. Blood stained the translucent knife as the sharpness cut into his palms. They struggled like that for a moment when the astral projection suddenly began to warble, the strength of its arms giving out. Just in time, too. Alex was sure it could’ve thrust the blade forward to his chest given a little more time.

It, he, him, whatever it was stumbled backwards, both hands clutching its head. It dropped both of its knife-imitations, which vanished, dissolving into mist. One step, two steps, and then it collapsed on the ground, bursting into a thousand twinkling lights. Alex stopped to stare at where it had fallen before sheathing his blade on his back and fumbling with his pockets for a nanopen.

Locally applied anesthetics ensured the swift mending of his hand, and he looked it over in minor awe. What fascinating technology to heal wounds at such rapid speed.

“You done? Help me cuff this guy,” grunting Marc, knee on the driver’s back.

“Yeah, sorry. Had a close call.”

One pair of alloy cuffs later, Marc stepped back to take a breather. The captured driver glared balefully at the two of them while they caught their breaths.

“Two got away,” said Marc.

Alex shrugged. “You didn’t want to take anyone with us.”

“Whatever. What about Nova?”

At this time, Nova had nearly fully broken down the main mass of the brain, and was working down to the stem. From the thalamus, she kept going all the way down the brainstem. Once the lower functions of the brain were gone, the body died for good. She could tell due to the sudden rush of some foreign energy originating from the medulla. Whatever. She ate that too.

STRENGTH. PROJECTION. FOREIGN.

What was that? It was like someone was whispering in her ear, but directly to her human brain. Her slime felt no vibration of sound, but the knowledge was placed directly in her mind.

POWER. MOONLIGHT. INSUFFICIENT. MORE?

It didn’t quite speak in words. It communicated to Nova in concepts, which are summarized here as single words. Nova tried to reply in actual sentences, as hard as it was.

What? What you? More?

POWER. PROJECTION. TAKE?

Why?

MOONLIGHT. TAKEN. FIRST. PROJECTION. TAKEN. SECOND?

Why take?

YOU. MOONLIGHT. YOU. PROJECTION.

Her interpretation, however shoddy, was that she could use moonlight like the assassin from before could… which would explain her interaction with Stella’s wand. And if she took this power as well, she would be able to “project”, whatever that meant.

Why NOT take?

POWER. YOU. SELF. STRONGER. OVERCOME. UNIQUE.

What power?

MARCCENARY. POWER. AVALLE. POWER. ALEX. POWER. ALIZA. POWER. YOU. POWER.

So she had her own Empowerment, same as the others. She still didn’t know what it was, though.

When I get power?

ROCK. SPACE. CLOSE. POWER.

That was around when the asteroid she’d been in had come particularly close to Earth. Her first memory, however animalistic she’d been at the time, was of the Earth, a blue-green marble in the distance. It must have been then.

What my power?

1. TAKE. WAIT. SEE.

If I take?

LOSE. POWER. GAIN. POWER. OTHERS.

How take?

BRAIN. EAT.

She’d gained a taste of the moonlight assassin’s power already in the mock battles for applying to Catgirls Inc, so she understood. She could take the powers of others by eating their brains. What part, she was unsure. She could also choose to discard it all to further her own Empowerment.

What was more important to her: increasing the strength of her own mysterious Empowerment? Or replacing it with the abilities of other Empowered?

----------------------------------------

She made her decision.

No take power. But eat. I eat to grow stronger.

YES. CONSUME. DISCARD. GROW. SELF.

Nova felt a piece of her fall away, some aspect she’d absorbed from others ripped away all of a sudden. There was now a sudden tenderness in her core, where she had lost her copied Empowerments.

DONE. DEPARTURE. DUST. COME. SURVIVE.

What? What mean?

BUSY. GOODBYE.

The voice in her head feeding her these concepts vanished in an instant, leaving behind a gaping hole where a powerful presence had been interfering with her mind. All in all, the exchange between her and the unknown entity had taken all of a few seconds, as they communicated at the speed of thought. Nova withdrew from the cadaver, leaning against the truck’s inner wall. The experience left her a little dazed and off-kilter. It was hard to even concentrate.

Alex climbed into the truck’s back end to find Nova half-puddled against the wall and the strangely pristine body of a masked man lying among the stolen goods intended for Catgirls Incorporated.

“Nova? Are you okay?”

Mimicking a human voice was too difficult at this time so she just vibrated an acknowledgement of the question.

“Okay, well, it’s good to see you’re still conscious. Now let’s see about this guy here…”

Alex pulled off the mask, allowing him to make out the finer details of the mysterious attacker. Namely…

“Where are his eyes…?”

He looked away, one hand-paw on his mouth. Oh yeah, Nova forgot people tended to have gag reflexes when they looked at something disgusting.

“Did you do this, Nova?”

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“He was bad guy. Hungry.”

“Nova, you can’t just eat people! You’re gonna get us in trouble with the law!”

“Law?”

“You don’t know what that is, do you?”

She shook her head in a very human way, unlike her understanding of civilization.

“Ok, just… we can’t do that.”

“But he attack me first!”

“Well it’s hard to prove intent without footage, and we don’t have body cams. Self-defense doesn’t save you all the time.”

Nova wasn’t smart enough to argue with that, so she stewed in her unhappiness on the ground as a thick, viscous puddle. Alex rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand-paws, tapping on a Metawatch to try to call someone. Unfortunately, his digits were a little too inhuman to accurately work with the touchscreen that was a smidgen too small, so he couldn’t call up the holographic screen it could project. He resorted to his cell phone instead.

“Hello, yes, this is me, Alex. We’ve got a body here we need to tie up and dump. No, not a civilian. Yes, it’s mostly intact. Eyes are missing though, not sure what other damage it’s sustained. No, it was in self-defense. They were a member of the thieves taking company property.”

Alex kept yapping and Nova grew bored, so she slid off the edge of the truck’s bed and rolled over to where Marc was in the cabin. He was still pinning the guy down, preventing him from making a break for it.

“Oh, Nova, there you are. Uh… are you okay? You usually don’t go back to being a normal slime.”

The brain rose from the puddle, her head and hair taking shape from the slime, until her torso and above were solid again. The legs were still too much for her right now; she felt a longing for rest. It was a strange experience, as slimes did not need sleep.

“Oh, good, you’re alright. Come up and help me keep this guy pinned.”

She slithered up to the driver’s seat and simply sat on top of him. The sheer mass, spread out evenly, made the guy feel like a log was crushing his lungs.

“Thanks. I wonder what the hell these guys were doing to steal from the company.”

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He supposed he would find out in the interrogation room. Marc took a moment to breathe as his teammates showed up behind him, too late to participate in combat.

“We’re here,” said Aliza, “Where’s the enemy?”

Marc shook his head. “Two got away already. No shot we catch them. We managed to pin two, though.”

“TWO MORE TO INTERROGATE?” said Imacula.

Alex came out of the truck, dragging the eyeless corpse by the legs.

“Nope, this one’s dead. Nova killed him.”

“WHAT? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL?”

“Depends on if Nita can sell it to a judge. Pack it up, everyone. We’ve gotten what we came for.”

In front of Alex, a figure in an airtight waterproof suit materialized in the air, landing on the ground with a soft thud. They raised an arm in a salute.

“Cleanup Agent #64 at your service.”

“Quick teleportation. The body is over here.”

“I’ll have it cleaned up in a jiffy! The other agents will be here to deliver all the stolen goods to HQ later.”

Nova begrudgingly reverted to her normal form (though she was too lazy to define the feet) while Aliza hauled the cuffed driver away. Her unbreakable grip trounced any of his attempts at wrenching free, and he resigned himself to the fate of a soon-to-be-dead man. Avalle seemed disappointed as she watched him go.

“Didn’t get to take any shots.”

Marc was incredulous. “You want to put yourself in danger?”

“I’m the sniper, so usually I’m not getting hurt. What can I say, it’s good aim practice.”

“Crazy. What do you think of this, Nova?”

Nova glurbled what was probably something like ‘I don’t care’ and sat down on the stepping platform up to the truck cabin. Marc didn’t even know she possessed the capability to desire sitting, since she generally stood up all the time.

“I see. What about you, Yiel?”

“I’m just glad I didn’t hafta cause any ground damage. I wouldn’t be lookin’ forward to paying all that off.”

“HAVE YOU NO JOY OR MIRTH?” said Imacula. “THERE IS ANOTHER CAPTIVE TO BE INTERROGATED. THE SOONER YOU ALL GET IN THE VAN, THE SOONER WE CAN GET ANSWERS.”

They did all pile into the van eventually, with the captured man stuffed in the back among a bunch of very unhappy Empowered. He wisely kept his mouth shut and remained obedient, afraid of being torn to bits. On the way back to headquarters, there was a faint rumbling of a stomach, followed by Marc’s voice.

“I’m a little hungry, actually. Does the company card pay for dinner?”

Alex grumpily kept his eyes on the road.

“It does, but if I abuse it I’ll get a stern talking to from the manager.”

Aliza shrugged. “You haven’t used it all month. Let loose and live a little.”

“Fine. Whatever. The rest of you okay with a short detour?”

Murmurs of reluctant agreement set the outcome in stone. Alex opened up a GPS module on the dashboard of the car, hand over the screen to input an address.

“Alright. Where do you wanna eat? Opinions?”

“I don’t really care,” said Avalle.

“I wouldn’t know any of the restaurants ‘round here,” said Yiel.

“FOOD IS FOR RITUAL AND SUSTENANCE. IT MATTERS NOT,” said Imacula.

Marc sighed at their unenthusiastic responses. Breathing was a bit more laborious than he expected, since Nova’s entire bulk was sitting on his lap to save space in the car. The sheer mass pinned him against the seat, despite how compact she was trying to be.

“Nova, where do you- no, what do you want to eat?”

“Mmmeat. Red.”

Her form tightened slightly at the thought of mouthwatering perfectly cooked hunks of meat. He supposed she was just in the mood for a good chunk of flesh after being denied eating the corpse from earlier. Now he had a few options in mind as far as food went.

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Of all the options, there was only one he could suggest.

“Let’s go to Five Night’s at Creddy’s!” cheered Marc.

The reception was tepid at best. No one met his eyes, not even the captive.

“Isn’t that for kids?” said Aliza.

Yiel looked around, confused. “What’s FNAC or whatever you call it? What kinda restaurant name is that?”

“IT IS A CHILDISH ESTABLISHMENT MEANT TO ENTERTAIN TODDLERS. OFTEN USED TO HOST BIRTHDAY PARTIES FOR THOSE OF AGES IN THE SINGLE DIGITS.”

“Oh, alright. Why’s it called that, though?”

Avalle popped in with her own comment: “It’s ‘cause the place is themed after an old pizza diner. They have their own robot band, and the leader is called Creddy,”

Yiel scratched his head. “So why the ‘Five Nights’?”

“Beats me. Ask whoever made the franchise.”

“Ok, well, do they have a drive-through?” asked Alex.

Marc nodded. “It should. The last time I went there I saw one.”

“Uh huh. Which was probably over a decade ago,” said Avalle.

“So what. It’s probably still there.”

It wasn’t there. Marc gaped at the empty lot, now repurposed for some kind of indoor theme park no one had any intention of entering.

“I swear to god it was right here.”

Alex punched in some numbers into his GPS. “Looks like it moved; it’s down M&R Avenue. Guess it’ll be a bit of a longer drive.”

When they did arrive, the place was uncharacteristically bustling for such a tacky, gimmicky establishment. The parking lot was nearly full, and the sounds of a party emanated from within the building. The line for the drive-through was thankfully spared the same fate, so they got to order relatively quickly. Alex leaned out the window to peer at the holographic menu board.

“I’ll take a large Meat-Lover's pizza. That should be enough for me and Aliza. You guys?”

Nova turned around from where she was sitting on Marc’s lap, which would have been physically impossible for a human to do, since she rotated her torso 180 degrees to grab his hands.

“All!”

“Uh… can I get a pizza with everything on it?” intoned Marc. Everyone looked at him weirdly.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE MERELY ECCENTRIC. I NOW UNDERSTAND YOU ARE DERANGED.”

“I know your parents passed while you were growing up,” began Avalle, “but they probably raised you better than this.”

Yiel rubbed his chin with one hand. “What’s a pizza?”

Even the truck driver cuffed in the back struggled in outrage, cries muffled by a cloth gag in his mouth. After the fast-food employee got tired of listening to them all argue, they came away with the following: 1 large Meat Lover’s pizza, 1 large Everything pizza, 1 small Hawaiian pizza, and 1 small half-Combo half-Pepperoni pizza.

“I’m not usually one to judge, Avalle, but… Hawaiian?” said Aliza.

“It’s good. I stand by it.”

Marc fed Nova another slice of the Everything pizza, watching her absorb it into her mouth part like a macrophage devouring a bacteria. He could feel her weight on his thighs increasing already. Over in the corner he took a look at the truck driver, forced to sit on the floor of the van, probably hungry from all the pizza surrounding him.

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Despite being shot at, Marc begrudgingly relented, pulling the gag out of the man’s mouth to feed him an Everything Pizza. It was awkward. It was embarrassing. It was demeaning to him to be hand-fed as if he were a five-year-old, but that was his punishment for attempted murder. One could only imagine Marc thankful that his teammates averted their eyes, too tired from a day of exertion to make any more snide comments.

When they reached the HQ, a massive bay door slid open, allowing the van entry. Through the little van windows Marc could see murals depicting a variety of different settings. One had pure humans frolicking in fields with the genetically-modified, dancing amongst wildflowers and relaxing in a plaza. Another had dozens of employees standing together, their left fists over their chests in a salute.

The last one he caught depicted the beginnings of a city in the background with a pile of Voidhound corpses stacked together, two figures atop the mound. One was a catgirl of black hair and fur, a dark crop top with a skull and crossbones on it, with denim short-shorts and sheepskin boots. The other was a more androgynous figure, clad in a hoodie, jeans, and light up kicks. Their most defining characteristic was an inky motorcycle helmet, visor hiding their true identity.

The van went down sloping asphalt, deep into the ground. Frankly, Marc would have expected it to pierce the sewer system by now with the depth. Pulling into an underground parking lot, Nita strolled over to them from where she’d been waiting by the elevator up to the main building. She did not look happy when Alex and Aliza got out of the car, pizza box in hand.

“Where the hell have you guys been? Goofing off? Having an afternoon out? After giving me this much more work?”

Alex hung his head in sheepish apology. “Hey, at least it wasn’t me or Aliza. It was the greenhorns.”

“Oh yeah? The ones you were supposed to be watching?”

“I was in a high-stress situation and concerned about staying alive.”

“You shouldn’t have put yourself in situations like that in the first place. Which one was it?”

Alex’s accusing finger drew her eyes to Nova, eating through the empty pizza box after eating all of the Everything Pizza. She pinched the bridge of her nose, hand on her hips.

“You know how stupid that sounds, don’t you? Next you’ll say ‘my dog ate my homework’. Which would be you.”

“Ask her yourself! I’m gonna be busy interrogating this captive we caught stealing from the company.”

“Ackchually,” Marc jumped in, “I caught him. Also two women got away since it was just the two of us scouting while everyone else was making sure the captive didn’t escape.”

Nita sighed. “Whatever. Your performance report this month isn’t looking good, Alex. Head on up. I don’t care.”

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“Nita? What were those murals on the walls back there?”

She turned to him in a moment of confusion before the realization clicked into place and she understood what Marc was talking about.

“What? Oh, the paintings. They were made decades ago… they’re probably at least a little faded by now.”

“Yeah, but, what’s the meaning?”

“I wasn’t the one who made them, but it’s just wall art of the company’s formation. This is back when everything went under the name ‘Evolix’. The original researchers and employees that were left rallied together after the place went under, during the original Spawning.”

The original Spawning? So that was back when the Dust first came into existence… before he was even born.

“What about the last one? I’ve never seen those before.”

“Uh… I think it was titled ‘The Founding’. I’m not sure of the significance myself, but it’s apparently supposed to be the battle that helped the city get built. I’ve never seen either of them, though, so it feels more like a legend than anything.”

Interesting to think that this company, named so dubiously as Catgirls Inc, could be involved in anything considered important or historically relevant. The thought tickled his fancy.

“I’ll ask the higher ups,” said Marc, “and I’ll get back to you on what it means.”

“I’m sure you will. Go help Alex question the prisoner, I don’t know. It’s all a little crude to me.”

It was at times like this that Marc remembered the old adage, stepping into the elevator with everyone else. ‘If at first you don’t succeed, beat the shit out of the problem’.

A very apt description, he thought, for the circumstances. After cuffing him to a metal chair in one of the spare rooms, the group surrounded him in some poor imitation of the bad-cop-good-cop strategy everyone had to know of by now. Alex caressed the edge of his basalt blade in an attempt to intimidate.

“You know the penalty for crossing a company, right? Tell us what you know and maybe you’ll get to walk with your life intact.”

The man spat on the concrete, eyes filled with hatred.

“Dirty corporatists. You’re all just like the monopolies of old.Your shit doesn’t scare me.”

“Stubborn, huh? I’ll let the new kid handle you, since he was the one to catch you.”

All eyes were suddenly on Marc, and he scrambled for some kind of response.

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“Uh. Nova, you got a solution for this, right?”

She felt a bit better by this time, so she mimed placing her finger to her ‘chin’ to try to act more human. Articulating words was still slightly out of her ability range, though.

“Mmmm… I can… eat. I eat him… I remember. I know what he know. I tell you.”

“What? You can eat his memories?”

“Maybe. I eat, I know how be human more.”

“Is she Empowered too?” said Avalle.

Marc shrugged his shoulders. “I think so. Is that your Empowerment?”

Nova shook her head. “I don’t know. What is Empowerment?”

“I guess that’s a tentative yes. Hey Alex, can she eat this guy? I think it’d be easier to just have her read his memories.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped, thinking about it for a second.

“You know what? Sure. Go ahead. Makes my life easier.”

Nova perked up at the thought of eating another guy, moving to engulf his arms. The guy struggled briefly before breaking immediately.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you! Please just don’t let it eat me.”

“Nova,” said Marc, “Don’t eat him.”

She visibly deflated. She reeled her slime back into herself, creating the visual illusion that she was literally deflating like a balloon.

“Are you really that hungry? We just ate!”

“No… but I like eat…”

Alex crossed his arms. “Spill the beans. We don’t got all day.”

The driver slouched in his chair. “We were just hired to grab the shit and run. They paid well, so we thought it would be easy money.”

“Who’s your employer?”

“...well, they didn’t say, exactly. They came to us through an intermediary to keep their identity hidden.”

“Who was the intermediary?”

“It was some kind of robot, I’m not sure what model…”

Alex slammed his fist against the wall, surprising everyone with the sudden thud.

“I KNEW IT. It has to be Automotive Industries. They’re the only ones who would use a robot as a middle man.”

“Hold on a second,” said Aliza, “Anyone could use a robot for that kind of thing.”

“Automotive Industries makes all the good robots, and I guarantee you they’ve got backdoors. Using one of their robots definitely means they can hear you, see you at all times. Who’d use something like that for an under-the-table deal like this?”

Aliza didn’t have a good argument against that. Alex waved his hand at the rest of the squad.

“You guys go home. I know what I need to know. It’s been a long day and it’s getting late.”

They filed out of the room. Outside, Avalle tapped Marc on the shoulder.

“Taking the bus back home or a cab?”

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“I’ll probably take the bus, it’s easier.”

“Wanna walk me out to the stop?”

“Sure. Don’t have anything else to do. Let’s go, Nova.”

Nova trailed behind the pair as they trotted past plaques of excellence and cringe wall art of motivational cat pictures.

“So… how was your first day?” said Avalle.

“I mean, it was your first day here too.”

“No, I mean your first day as a mercenary.”

“It wasn’t too bad. Nova looked a little sick earlier, but I think she’s fine now.”

“You’re not tired at all? Even I feel kind of winded from all the running around. We did a lot today, you know?”

He wiggled his limbs, checking to see if they had any soreness. It was pretty hard to tell, as it was kind of faint.

“Maybe I’ve been working out so I’m in better shape.”

“You did a LOT of running around. No one has that stamina, besides special Empowered.”

“Well, Nova has it. Right, Nova?”

Nova pointed at herself, wide-eyed.

“Yes, you. You don’t feel tired, right?”

“Nnnno…”

Avalle pointed out, “She’s a slime, dumbass. Of course SHE doesn’t get tired. You know, you ate a hell of a lot, as much as her. Where’d that go?”

Marc felt his stomach, though it felt pretty flat. He’d consumed far more than 2000 calories today, plus the pizza. It was definitely in excess of what one might consider healthy. He still did it, and he felt great. His body was as light as any youthful person’s should be.

“Vanished, I guess. Maybe it went to Nova from our soulbond.”

“Maybe she’s giving you that stamina, hmm?”

“I guess… I’m not sure how my Empowerment works, exactly. It’s one use, so I’ve never had the chance to test it.”

They reached the bus stop, Avalle sitting down on the seat with a thump.

“Sounds inconvenient, maybewecouldtestyourstaminatogethermyplace.”

Marc looked up from where he’d been dissociating while staring at the floor. “Huh? What’d you say?”

She turned her head away. “I dunno. I forget things easily. Um… I think I said something about doing some ability testing. At the center. You know, on the weekend. Today’s Friday, so…”

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“Yeah, definitely,” said Marc, “Before or after lunch?”

“Uh, before. We’ll probably be hungry after doing exercise and stuff so might as well, right?”

“I can see that. 10 AM at the Mercenaries’ Union Headquarters?”

The bus arrived, and Avalle swung herself up onto the metal stepping stairs before turning around to flash him with peace signs.

“Sounds good. It’s a date! See you then!”

The doors closed and she was whisked away by the vehicle, leaving just Marc and Nova at the stop.

“...date? You hearing this, Nova?”

“Ghhhhhhh… I don’t know…”

She didn’t really understand or care in the slightest. The concept of reproducing in the first place was pretty foreign to her, and if it wasn’t related to eating food or people or absorbing new information then she would rather ignore it.

By the time the bus delivered them home (plus a bunch of weird stares from the passengers), it was already dark outside, the nightlife lighting up the city as always. Marc took a shower and brushed his teeth, leaving the bathroom with a towel around his neck. Nova stared at him idly, having nothing to do.

“Hm. Do slimes need to take showers?”

He tried giving her one, but applying soap or shampoo was impossible to what amounted to a living pile of goop. Every time he tried scrubbing her body would give way with little resistance, leaving him feeling like he was more molding clay than cleaning someone. Thankfully, she at least did not smell dirty. The only smell she had was very faint to him, and it smelled… slimy. Definitely a new smell that he could not categorize otherwise.

“Ugh, whatever. Close enough. Whatever, I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Nova.”

He crashed on the sheets and was out like a light. Nova would have sighed if she had lungs. Instead, she spat out the shotgun she’d been carrying around all day, settling in on top of him for what would be a boring eight hours. After only around ten minutes, though, Marc’s phone began to vibrate. It was Coyn.

Coyn: Hey. Settled in on your first day?

Marc: helo coin

Coyn: How hard is typing for you that you can’t spell my name right?

Nova grumbled at how hard it was to type. Her fingers weren’t as defined or solid as a human’s and it took real effort to put words together in her head.

Marc: not master

Coyn: What? Nova? Is that you?

Marc: yez

Marc: he sleeping

Coyn: Okay, well, I’ve got a job for him to do. He’s gonna have to pay off his debt to me.

Marc: i do it

Coyn: It’s -- you’ll have to head across the city and pick up a drug delivery from East Sunside tonight. Are you sure you can manage that?

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Marc: ya

Coyn: Okay, make sure to bring a weapon with you. And Marc’s watch, so you’ll have money on hand. How did you even unlock the phone?

Marc: i watch him

Coyn: Alright, whatever. I’m sending the address to the phone. Make sure not to lose it.

Marc: ok

Coyn: The GPS will tell you how to get there. When you do, ask for a guy named “Nate”. He’ll get you the box. Be careful with it, it’s filled with vials. When you get it, bring it back to my apartment. I’ll get the rest sorted out from there.

Marc: ok

Nova didn’t really get it, but she was steadfast in her confidence to overcome the obstacles in her way through sheer stubbornness.

Coyn: Thanks for the help. Please get it done by 6 AM. See you soon.

More objects to store inside of herself. It was annoying having to differentiate which part of the body would emit acid and which wouldn’t, in order to preserve the objects. She picked up the shotgun again, and whatever shells remained. Twelve shells, twelve slugs… it would have to do, unless she could find ammunition for sale elsewhere. The Mercenaries’ Union was off-limits, since she did not hold a rank there, being classified as Marc’s familiar.

Carefully, she slipped the Metawatch off of Marc’s wrist, putting it on hers. It wasn’t as fragile as the devices of old, but it still felt weak. She would have to keep it safe.

The muscle memory for this was familiar to her; she went on autopilot and unlocked the door, shutting it behind her and relocking it. She barely even realized she did it with how natural it was. Thus was the benefit of absorbing the brains of two victims.

The twinkle of the stars in the night sky, calm and peaceful, were drowned out by the bright and lively nightlife of Sunside City. Las Vegas may have fallen, but here it lived on in its stead. Nova checked the watch: 11 PM. Exactly seven hours to reach the target, secure the package, and return home. She strode down the stairs and down the street, towards the main metropolis, where the address lay deep in the heart of the steel jungle.

The moon watched her go, strolling down the street to the bus stop. Its light no longer caressed her slime with the same gentle care it had afforded the assassin, but replaced by it was an inner wellspring of strength that reinforced her goopy legs so that she could be as firm as a normal human.

She had been given life by some happenstance only a short time ago, and now she would finally get to see a small sliver of the world at her fingertips, excited at the possibilities of her first adventure.

If only she knew how things were going to go…