The dog woke her up. Suzzie didn't want to open her eyes or get up off her bed or go take the mutt on an emergency walk or whatever his problem was, but she kept feeling something wet flick over her nose and, worryingly, heard a low whine.

"What is it?" she asked, sitting up and grumbling all the way. The weight beside her disappeared, and when Suzzie finally went ahead and blinked her eyes open she could see the beagle pawing at the door across the room. She reached for her phone and clicked it on, squinting at the sudden brightness of the screen. "God, it's like four AM, boy... Fine, fine."

Better get this over with before he started barking and woke up the folks. They'd warned her this would happen, but no, she just had to insist. Not like there was anything else to do out here in the middle of nowhere; might as well adopt a puppy, even if she had to be the one to take care of it. Usually it was worth it. Now, not so much.

Suzzie walked over, rubbing her eyes, and when she opened the door her dog dashed right through and down the hall. "Wait up," she mumbled, tiptoeing after him. It was dark, but she knew the way and managed not to step on any of the creaky floorboards. Down the steps was harder, but that's what the handrail was for, and soon enough she found herself at the front door of the house.

The dog pawed at that one too, but Suzzie yawned and slipped on the sandals she had lying around nearby for this exact occasion. Not the first time she'd had to go on a nighttime jaunt.

"Just make it quick," she said, opening the door as quietly as she could. The beagle slipped through the narrow opening and Suzzie huffed before doing the same, turning around to close the door behind her.

Then, the barking started. Suzzie turned her head, surprised, and stepping off the porch she found her dog not squatting atop the dirt outside but instead standing stalwart and facing the cornfield some ways away. Stupidly, she ran over, forgetting to go back in the house and get the shotgun her father kept propped by the fireplace in the living room.

"You see something?" she asked, stopping by the barking beagle and scanning the night. Blue moonlight barely broke through a sheet of clouds overhead, but she could see the field was peaceful enough.

The dog advanced, ears flopping, and Suzzie jogged after him until they reached the fence. Stopping there, she saw the dog bend low and sniff at the ground, as if looking for something in the soil, and that's when she noticed the darkened leaves.

Pulling her phone out, Suzzie shone a light on the bushels of corn, reaching through the fence, and to her horror she saw that for whatever reason their stalks had all turned an ashy purple spotted with black dots. Turning the light back and forth, she noticed all the stalks had taken on this sickly color, all the leaves, and she saw something like roots or thorny vines peeking out like a semi-inundated net all along the ground. "What the hell..."

The dog started whining again, staring up at her with dishplate eyes that would have made her coo if the circumstances weren't so strange. Looking down at him, Suzzie realized this was probably over her head.

"Pop..." Suzzie turned around and ran back to the house, her dog bounding after her. "Pop! Wake up!"

Unbeknownst to her, news had already broken out just fifty miles away at the next farm over. Soon, the whole northeastern United States would wake up with headlines about a "Purple Death" blighting all local agriculture, and the Ranger Corps would mobilize an emergency response to all affected areas.

Unfortunately, too many Rangers were too busy to mount an organized effort—as it turned out, more than a few had been randomly attacked by an assortment of criminals. No one knew just what this plant disease was, nor where it came from. All they'd be able to tell was that its effects grew with each second, and nothing seemed capable of stopping it.

- - - — MKII — - - -

Sitting propped against a thick trunk in the forest, Malcolm could just about see the World Tree peeking from behind the curtain of branches and leaves overhead. It had stopped raining during the last few hours, thankfully, though everything around him was still wet and muddy, and the sky was still dark.

His clothes and his hair sat damply against his skin, and his glasses were thoroughly smudged by a thin, brown film that covered the world in sepia tones. Once he got back home... If he got back home... The shower would be glorious.

A shadow fell beside him, and when he turned Malcolm saw Clover squatting from the corner of his eye. She offered him a lopsided smile.

"Get any sleep?" she asked.

Malcolm shrugged. "Not really."

"I managed, somehow. At least a little."

"I saw. You're not the only one." Malcolm nodded towards Daphne sitting nearby, cross legged in silent meditation. "Doesn't seem all that comfortable, but I guess you have to get what you can."

Clover chuckled. "She's prepping her Trick, actually."

"Huh. She's been doing that for a while."

"We do need any advantage we can get..." Clover paused, and Malcolm could feel her staring at him, looking over his face, the bags in his eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. "This is pretty crazy, huh?"

Malcolm smiled, mostly to try and please her, though it still came out thin-lipped. "Just your standard save-the-world scenario. No biggie."

Clover nudged him with her shoulder. "Not too late to opt-out. All this stuff, you just got sucked into it. You've already helped plenty."

She was right. Malcolm didn't feel personally endangered by the assassination attempt anymore; honestly, it felt so long ago that he might have been able to drop any antagonism that came from it even if he hadn't just been one of many indiscriminate and random targets. But he'd already waited here with her all night, hadn't he?

"Nah," he said. "We're a team, right? If I just left you alone here, no one back home would ever let me hear the end of it. Zelda's already bad enough."

They both laughed at that, though it sounded limp on both their parts. Zelda and the others were probably asleep, completely unaware of everything going on just a six-hour drive away. It was hard to believe all this—the fight with Seig, Red tagging along, breaking out of the World Tree—all of it had happened in under a day.

Malcolm shook his head. No use thinking about that before it really was all over. "Plus, there's that other thing."

Clover frowned, a silent question on her face, but the answer came on its own. "The fire user."

"Yeah," Malcolm said. Four hours had been plenty of time to get the story, at least everything Clover had heard over the years about a day no one ever seemed all that thrilled to talk about. "I know fire Tricks are pretty common, but we ran out of leads years ago at this point. I... I can't imagine Mom would really do what you said. But I need to make sure. Ask around. Find evidence. No stone left unturned and all that."

"Fair enough." Clover smiled at him again, though this one was a lot more exasperated. "I wish you guys would've let me know you were looking for her. I would've told you."

"It's a personal thing. No reason everyone else should get involved."

Clover put a hand on Malcolm's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You're the one who said we're a team. That goes both ways, mister."

Malcolm raised a hand, hesitated, then placed it on hers. He was too tired to pretend she didn't make him feel better. "Thanks. I can't say I ever knew what Mom had going on as a Ranger, but I know she was a good person. I just wish I knew what happened to her..."

Clover squeezed again, then let him go and drew her knees in, hugging them against herself. "For what it's worth, I hope it is just a coincidence. There's been enough surprises today."

Glancing at her, Malcolm figured it'd been a hard time for both of them and the least he could do was try his own hand at this comforting people thing. "I guess you probably fought some friends back there..."

"Not... exactly," Clover said. Then, after a moment of thought, she grimaced. "At least, not any that I recognized in all that mess. It's more than that, though. I just... We're part of the ELD too, y'know? I've been all-in since the start. It's why I got my Ranger license in the first place. I'm proud of the work we've done, and I respected the Council."

Eyes closing, Clover blew out a long breath. "Honestly, I didn't think the ELD was going far enough either. We're just an archive at the end of the day. A bunch of RC pencil pushers. So I get where they're coming from, and god knows how many Greenkin have died over the years because of humans."

Malcolm raised a brow. "Still, you're out here instead of in there."

"Yeah. Because it's bad enough when humans are doing the killing." Clover turned to look at him, and Malcolm saw the way her jaw tightened, set resolutely. "If the Greenkin start doing the same thing, it's not like the RC will take that sitting down, or all the other human Mystics around the planet. The ELD's been a... a partial solution, I guess. It lets Greenkin prove that they're not just a bunch of monsters for Rangers to get rid of. It's not enough to solve the problem, but it's better than nothing, and it's a lot better than basically starting a war. Who's even gonna be left by the time everyone stops fighting?"

Clover shook her head, frowning and drawing forward. "Humans and Greenkin aren't different. We all have to live on this planet together. I just wish I knew how to make everyone see that..."

They both fell silent then, and Malcolm mulled over her words. Clover had always struck him as a big-picture kind of person, though he'd never really gone out of his way to ask about it.

Too busy worrying about my own problems, he thought, and not for the first time Malcolm found that he didn't like himself very much.

Movement. Eyes snapping to it, Malcolm and Clover both saw Daphne hunch over, eyes open for the first time in hours. The woman held herself up against long, deep heaving, sweat streaming down her face, amassing on her chin, falling in a leaky drip.

"Mom?" Clover asked, coming to her feet and making to walk over. "You alright?"

Daphne held up a halting hand. "I'm fine... At my limit, but fine." Looking up, she gave the kids a shaky smile. "Just... don't freak out."

Malcolm was about to ask why they would when the forest rustled and shook. The sound like barking trees didn't come from any particular direction; it came from everywhere. Despite Daphne's warning, Malcolm felt his muscles close up, and soon he was standing like Clover, glancing nervously around. "What's that sound?"

"That..." Daphne slowly got to her feet, and all along the sound—the rumbling—grew louder and louder. "That, Malcolm, is the sound of reinforcements."

- - - — MKII — - - -

Jenny couldn't help the bouncing knee. It got so that the bed she sat on shook enough to irritate Helen, the nymph sitting beside her.

Said nymph leaned close with a scowl, her hair a bouncing bob of purple petals. "You need to calm down," she whispered.

Jenny shook her head. "You don't think I'm trying?" She put her hand on her knees, forcing them to a stop. "I'm gonna throw up..."

A knock on the doorway. Three sharp raps, a long pause, then a fourth. Jenny and Helen looked at each other, and now it was Helen's turn to be nervous, though she did a good job of hiding it behind a terse expression. Jenny glanced at the doorway—covered only by a curtain, as was standard—then at Helen, giving the other nymph a single hesitant nod.

Silently, Helen stood and tiptoed over to the doorway, She leaned against it, one green hand flat against the wooden wall beside it, her other green hand set to pull it open. "Leek?"

"Yeah, can I please come in now?"

Raspy and impatient; that was Leek alright. Helen quickly pulled the curtain open, let the pixie fly in, looked out at the hall, left and right, then came back in and slid the curtain closed.

Jenny looked intently at the chubby pixie as he flew in and settled down beside her. His body barely as large as her head, the weight barely registered on the straw mattress, which was why she'd asked him to be the one to go sneaking around. "How bad is it?"

Hunching over, Leek put his face in both hands and rubbed furiously at his temples. "I can't say everyone in the security force is in on it," he said, sighing. "But it definitely sounds like most of them are."

Helen walked over to the wall across from them, leaning against it with arms crossed. Jenny's room was small, furnished with only the one bed and a small cabinet for her few belongings, so it gave the three plenty of privacy. A few fireflies clumped on the ceiling, casting a muted green glow.

Still, even in this enclosed and dark location, they all leaned in, voices low, routinely glancing at the curtain and expecting someone to walk in at any moment.

"I guess if anyone needed to know it'd be them," Helen muttered. "You know, just in case, well, exactly what happened with the Scouts happened."

"How'd they keep it quiet all this time?" Jenny said. "Even if they didn't tell anyone else, it's still too many to keep a secret like this."

"Probably the guards didn't know either until pretty recently," Leek said, eyes closed and scowling. "It's a long-con, sure, but you only really need the muscle for when things actually start up. And even if something happened to slip, we were all too busy getting ready for Jubilee to notice."

Jenny gave one hoarse chuckle. "Jubilee... It feels so besides the point now."

"Well, what's the move, then?" Helen asked. When Jenny blinked up at her, she glared. "Hey, you're the one who roped us into this. I could be comfy in bed right now, but no, I have to be here... conspiring!"

It's not like I wanted this to happen, Jenny thought, but she couldn't feel too angry at her friend. If Dimple was there, she probably wouldn't be very pleased with him either. Just tell me we're committing a secret genocide and then leave to let me deal with it, thanks a lot.

"Some humans did get away," Jenny said. Her knee started bouncing again, and though Helen sent her a dirty look, Leek—himself sitting right beside her—didn't seem to mind. Too deep in thought himself, probably. "That means the cavalry's coming eventually. Hopefully sooner rather than later. So... Let's be ready for that." She nodded, both to herself and the others. "When the Enforcers come, we'll cooperate. Try to end things as quick as possible."

"We'll need a lot more than just us three to do that," Leek said.

"Yeah." Jenny looked at him, eyes shamelessly pleading. "Sorry to ask, but that means we'll need to depend on you more, Leek. Think you're up for spreading the word?"

"Quietly," Helen added.

Leek glanced between them, scowl deepening, but to his credit, it didn't take very long for him to nod. "Fine. But if I get caught, I'm cursing you both to my grave."

"It won't come to that," Jenny said.

Leek only grunted in response, which despite herself Jenny figured was fair enough. Watching him fly up and slip back out of the room, the nymph sighed in a combined knot of anxiety and relief. She still couldn't really wrap her head around all this, but it was good to know she wasn't alone in it.

I'm doing my part, she thought, hands digging against her mattress. You better appreciate it, Joseph, you bullhead.

... And you better be safe, wherever you are.

- - - — MKII — - - -

Red felt himself falling, gut flopping around in pure disorientation. Then he gasped awake, and in an instant that gasp turned into a groan. For the second time in so many hours, Red woke up in agony. Except it wasn't sharp, and it didn't go away after a few moments. This pain was dull, throbbing all over his body in patches, mostly on his skin.

"God damn," he sighed. "I lost again? This sucks..."

Well, no use moping about it. Red tried sitting up, felt his abdomen and his arms flare up in a soreness caked with bruises, and grunted before powering through, propping himself on his hands. The pain was manageable enough; it was the void in his stomach that was causing him real trouble.

"Ugh... I could eat a cow right now..."

A gas station jerky stick appeared in front of his face. "Here."

"Oh. Thanks." Red took it, ripped the plastic off with pinched fingers, and took a bite. He munched for a bit, teeth grinding against the tough meat, before finally looking over at whoever it was that had handed it to him.

Some cloaked man in sunglasses stared at him, holding a long walking staff in the crook of his elbow. Dimple similarly stared, sitting just a couple feet away. Bessie sat nearby too, though she seemed far more interested in biting at the wet grass.

Then there was Khurang, who sat beside the giant snail, head raised only slightly over crossed paws, maw open in a silent snarl.

Swallowing, Red stared back at them, each in turn. Then, he took a second bite of jerky. " 'Sup, Bull Boy? What're you doing out here?"

Dimple blinked. "I, uh... That's a long story."

"Boo." Red finished the rest of his jerky and liked his fingers for good measure. "Hey, got any more of those? I haven't eaten all day."

"I've got plenty," the cloaked man said. He held up an empty palm, twirled it in the air, and then there was a full bag of jerky strips right there in his hand. It had just popped into existence from one moment to the next, no fanfare, no sound—just suddenly there, as if it always had been. Smirking, the man tossed Red the bag. "Bon appétit."

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Khurang broke out in a low growl, perhaps interested in the bagful of meat, though even this wasn't enough to make the chimera pounce. Red dug in as soon as he caught the jerky, practically ripping the bag open and stuffing whole strips in his mouth.

"Thaths a neath thrick," he said, chewing through his words. Then, after a big gulp, "Who're you, anyway?"

"I'm the guy who saved your life," the man said. "Call me Douglas."

He held out a hand for Red to shake. Unlike the one he'd used to make the jerky appear, this one was noticeably covered by a black leather glove.

The boy took it, felt a solid grip, and it was only then that he noticed the bandages that covered his whole arm. Looking down at them—spotted with mud and blood as they were—Red saw that they ran up his shoulder and down all throughout his torso like an impromptu shirt.

"Woah, I'm like a mummy," Red said, patting himself down and feeling the ache of his injuries. "These things are all sticky..." He raised an arm and sniffed, grimacing. "Man, I need a shower..."

"The blood'll do that," Douglas said. "All those cuts and bruises, you were like a puffed-up raspberry, kid. But it's good to see ya join us in the wakin' world. Your friend here's been worryin' for hours."

Dimple blushed red. "I heard you went to fight Harmony. Honestly, I'm surprised you're not any worse off. They're supposed to be the strongest in the Council."

"Oh, they were strong, alright." Red looked down at his hand, opening and closing it, feeling the strain on each curling finger. "And they had funky powers too. I could barely land a good punch on 'em."

"That's Wind Dance," Dimple said. Red's head tilted in confusion. "Their Art. Or their Trick, I guess you humans call it. My uncle tried to learn it, but he couldn't figure it out."

"Whatever it is, I couldn't beat it." Scowling, Red bit into another mouthful of jerky strips in frustration. "Ish annoying. How'dya beath someone yeh canth etheen thouch?"

Dimple shook his head, downcast. "I don't know," he said, and it was depressing to think of how little headway he'd made in figuring things out himself.

Sticking around for Red's sake had been a good enough excuse, but if he was honest, Dimple was just afraid of what would happen once he went back. Would Jenny have told the others that he helped humans escape? Would it be better to have no one find out, for him to keep quiet and let the RC Enforcers come to kill everyone involved in the Council's plan? Would it be better for that plan to work, killing millions in the process and starting a war?

There didn't seem to be any way to avoid a mistake, and Dimple found himself as frozen as any of Silviamon's victims, locked in place and powerless to do anything about it. Just like always

The only one not dispirited in any way was Douglas, who whistled at their despondent faces. "Gotta say, this Harmony's pretty impressive. I figured they'd be some second-rate egomaniac, but I can't argue the results. A couple more hours like this an' it's pretty much over."

Red snorted. "They are a second-rate egomaniac. You should've heard 'em monologue. Just on and on about taking over the world."

Douglas shrugged, thumbing over at Dimple. "This fella here told me all about it. Pretty ruthless, but Harmony's plan could work, and you ain't second-rate if your plan works."

At this, Dimple drew forward, glaring at them both. "How are you guys this laid-back about it? Millions of innocent people could die!"

Red shrugged, digging back into his snack bag, and Douglas similarly waved off Dimple's concerns.

"Innocent people die every day," the cloaked man said. "And I guess you don't know since you've never peeked outta the forest all your life, but things ain't exactly goin' great out there in the human world anyway." He held out a closed hand, counting with his fingers. "Wealth inequality, climate crisis, nuclear aggression... you name it, we got it. Truth is, this Operation Checkmate wouldn't kick anythin' off that ain't happening already. It'd just be an accelerant. All Harmony's doing is gettin' on the horse and ridin' it while they can. The big danger's the world itself, not some sociopathic fairy."

Each word sent Dimple further and further down his paralyzing tumble. "The world itself..."

Nodding, Douglas held out his naked hand and a lighter appeared. Passing it off to his gloved hand, he then summoned a pipe, one already packed with tobacco.

"The Enlightenment. Colonialism. The Industrial Revolution. There's plenty involved, but taken together we humans call it Demystification," he said, putting the pipe between his lips. "In other words, modern times. Heard you Greenkin call it the Schism."

Those other names he'd rattled off were completely alien, but the Schism? Dimple had heard plenty about that. "You mean the thing that created the Veil."

Pipe lit, Douglas sucked in a lungful of smoke and let it out in a long, thick cloud. "Right-o. With that Veil up, most humans can't even see Mystics anymore, let alone care about 'em, Greenkin included."

"So... we have to end the Schism," Dimple said, head churning. "Bring down the Veil."

"Ha!" Douglas traded the pipe for the lighter between his hands, and the latter disappeared in his naked hand. "Good luck with that. Even if humans found out that Greenkin exist again, they'd keep doin' what they're doin' anyway. The Schism happened because of how humans were already acting, not the other way around."

Douglas tapped the end of his pipe to his temple. "You're invisible 'cuz you don't fit the way they set up the world, see? Nature spirits, monsters, even Magicians like me an' the kid here, we're not scientific. We're nonsense. As long as the world exists like it does now, even if you become visible again, it wouldn't mean anything. They'd just rationalize you away again."

Shaking his head, Douglas sucked on his pipe, talking between breaths. "Or worse... they'd find some way to rationalize you into their world... and you'd just turn into another cog in their machine."

"But... But it's not even just us." Dimple reached over to caress Bessie, and though the snail mewed in delight, it was mostly to try and comfort himself. "If you're right, that world's about to kill a bunch of humans too!"

Douglas breathed out another cloud of smoke. "Yep."

"Don't you care? I mean, you're a human!"

Once again, Douglas waved off his concerns. "Eh, it's not a problem for me. Look." He raised his naked hand and summoned a water bottle. "I've been stockin' up," he said, holding it up with pride. "This hand's set to a bunker with just about anything I'll ever need no matter what happens."

Sending the bottle away, Douglas pointed at Dimple with the end of his pipe. "Kid, in this world the only thing that matters is having stuff, see? Resources. As long as you got resources, you got power, and as long as you got power, you can do whatever you want." He turned the pipe back around and puffed. "Harmony figured that out. Take away the food and humans'll die en masse, probably start up a war an' kill even more of each other 'till eventually there're too few to really do much damage. After that, it's simple enough to try an' take over, right? Even if it doesn't work, it's a better shot than most people get."

Douglas waited for a response, but Dimple was silent and Red was still too busy eating, so he shrugged. "As for me, I can ignore that whole mess as long as I got enough stuff of my own. I'm human, sure, but I don't need other humans. I don't need anybody. I'm a free agent, see? I know about the Schism and the Veil and all those human matters 'cuz learning about it's an interesting way to pass the time, not 'cuz any of it would ever affect me. Whatever happens, I'll turn out fine. No use gettin' involved."

Dimple frowned, looking down. "That's so heartless..."

Douglas shrugged again. "You call it heartless, I call it pragmatic." He leaned forward. "The human world's gonna go crazy no matter what, but hey, you're not a human. And if you really can't stomach what Harmony does, well, what's keeping ya here? I figure if you're a Greenkin you can pretty much take care of yourself anywhere you go."

Here, Douglas reached up to lower his glasses, staring at Dimple directly with piercing blue eyes. "So, you want my advice? Take as much stuff as you can and go hide out somewhere. Some other forest, or a cave or something. Ride out the next few years. It'll be lonely, sure, but you'll be alive and you won't have to get involved, and then if you want you can go find some other community to join. By then all the fighting'll be over and done with."

Part of Dimple recoiled at the very thought, but another part of him instantly knew the only reason he did was that he'd had the exact same idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind, thinking through this whole situation, he'd considered just running away. It disgusted him, but he had. And yet...

"I can't just abandon my life," he decided. "Or the people I care about."

Douglas stared, noting how the minotaur avoided his gaze. Eventually, he scoffed, a smile playing on his face. "Scaredy cat."

A rumble broke out around them in the forest. They all paused, looking around at the sound, though Bessie and Khurang seemed particularly interested.

Dimple lay a calming hand on the giant snail, and Bessie hunched down to rub her head on his chest, slathering it with her mucus. Khurang, on the other hand, stood up and bolted away, disappearing behind the trees in great leaps.

Watching the chimera go, Douglas clicked his tongue. "I was hoping to keep it as a pet..."

Red had listened to the conversation with half an ear, but by now he'd run out of jerky and was starting to get antsy. He balled up the bag and, with a glance at Dimple, decided to stuff it in the pocket of his ragged pants.

"That's about as good a signal as any," he said, standing up and tuning to Douglas. "Thanks for the snack, mister."

Douglas gave him a salute from his seat, but Dimple bolted up himself. "Wh-Where are you going?" the minotaur asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Groaning, Red raised his arms over his head, stretching with fingers interlocked. "Hah... I'm gonna go kick Harmony's ass."

"But..." Dimple raised a hand as if to stop the boy, or to reach for something to keep him upright. "You... You already almost died! Twice! How... I mean, you're not even—" He turned to Douglas without him even meaning to, but once he did the thought presented itself plainly.

You're not even involved.

Rolling his eyes, Red started working out the kinks on his shoulder. "I don't care about all that stuff. You nature guys, humans, the world, whatever. I'm just here to have a good time. Plus, Harmony's whole schtick sorta pisses me off. Pounding their smug face in'll feel so satisfying."

Douglas started chuckling, but Dimple didn't see what was so funny. He stood there gobsmacked even as the rumbling continued and Red stretched down to touch his toes.

"That's way too simpleminded," Dimple said. It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact. People weren't supposed to act this irrationally, this impulsively, this lacking in any reasonable motivation. He stomped over to Red, arms out like he was holding something heavy, maybe the full weight of his disbelief. "You're walking to your death for... for what? For the fun of it?!"

Straightening up, Red looked back at him. "Heh, you think that's nothing? Sorry to disappoint, but I don't have any fancy speeches or big ideas." He grinned, pointing a thumb at himself. "All I wanna do is enjoy myself and make good memories. It doesn't matter what's wrong or right, or even if I die. As long as I live in a way I won't mind remembering, I did it how I needed to. So I'll see every fight to the end, and I'll keep trying 'till there's nothing left in me to give. It's as simple as that."

That stopped Dimple short. He stood right in front of Red, and though he was a couple of inches taller, at that moment it felt like the boy towered over him.

First Alexander, then Douglas, and now Red—a distasteful group if he'd ever met one. They were all crazy to some degree or another, ruthless and hardheaded. And yet...

Shaking his head, Dimple's voice dropped low. "Why... Why did you save me back then? Really?"

"Back... Oh, with the big lion thing?" Red crossed his arms. "Well I didn't want you getting hurt, and it didn't seem like you were gonna do anything."

So, on a whim? He'd be that committed to something he hardly even thought about? "How do you know what you need to do?" Dimple said, nearly whispering it to himself. "How can you be this sure about what you want?"

Red quirked an eyebrow, and for the first time seemed to really look at the minotaur. Dimple could feel the stare even with his own eyes on the ground, and hunched his shoulders, ready to hear it, wishing he could somehow reach up to hide his nonexistent horns.

Then, finally, Dimple heard a sigh. "Don't be stupid," Red said. "Everyone already knows what they wanna do. It says so right here."

A fist bumped lightly against his chest. Dimple watched it happen, felt it settle against his heart, and his mother's voice blew in with the misty wind of the forest.

You'll know, Little Bull. Just remember why we gave you your name, and trust yourself, and you'll know.

"You're living," Red said. "Your heart tells you that you wanna live, and that's always worth something. The only thing that really matters is making the most of it." Dimple raised his head he saw the boy's subdued grin. "So what's it gonna be, Bull Boy? What would make you think it was all worth it even if you die?"

For once, all the shame of what he wasn't and all his worries about the future fell away, and Dimple found to his surprise that the answer came naturally. "I... I want to be like my parents," Dimple said, slowly. But as he spoke, some steel seeped into his voice. "And I need to stop my uncle from doing something he can't ever come back from."

Red's grin widened. "Alright. Then let's make it happen."

Dimple nodded, meeting the smile with a shy one of his own. He still felt terrified, but somehow he didn't feel frozen anymore. The words had been said, and now he couldn't help but know that they were true and right. His heart beat to their rhythm, and with each beat his fear shot him full of energy.

This was something he could at least try. He might fail, but he could try.

Red nodded, pleased, but when he tried to pull his hand back, it remained stuck to Dimple's chest. Frowning, the boy pulled again, and Dimple stumbled a bit.

"The hell..." Red put his other hand on Dimple's shirt, and with something to push back on, he managed to free his closed fist. Looking down at his hand, Red noticed the thin coat of leftover mucus on his knuckles. "Dude, gross."

"That's Bessie's," Dimple said. Sighing, he poked at the layer coating his chest, sticking and unsticking his finger with some trouble. "She ate some of Halcyon's nectar earlier. You know, the big flower? Gigantopods think it's tasty, I guess, but it's really sticky and this is what happens when they digest it. Takes forever to clean off..."

Still frowning, Red leaned over to see Bessie and, more importantly, the trail of mucus she had left in her wake on the way there. It wasn't particularly easy to spot, but once he knew what to look for he saw the wide track of transparent greenish goo covering the dewy grass.

"I think... that I have an idea," Red said, and this time his smile curved mischievously. Improvising might be his go-to, but it was about time he came into one of these battles a step ahead of the competition.

- - - — MKII — - - -

"You look... different," Alexander said.

He meant Harmony, who had strolled down to meet him in the pavilion. It had taken hours to reorganize the guards, care for the injured and wounded, assign shifts, and halfway through it the fairy had finally come down and insisted that they remain mobilized. Could never be too careful, they'd said, and if some humans had gotten away it was only a matter of time before the Enforcers came.

That fairy had done away with their robe, revealing the black scars strung across a body otherwise as pale as Halcyon's great white petals, but that was a sight Alexander had seen plenty over the years.

Less usual was that Harmony's hair and eyes—once a bright yellow—had been dyed a deep blackish purple, one that shone like ink under the bright light of Halcyon's green nectar. None of the few guards around them now had commented on it until now since Harmony hadn't made a big deal of it, but in the calm of settled plans Alexander figured it was something to talk about.

"A side effect of the crown, I suppose," Harmony said, reaching up to tap the ring of thorns wrapped around their head. "It's strange... I can feel it burrowed into my skin, but there is no pain."

"Wouldn't be much of a Talisman if there was," Alexander grunted.

"I would be willing to feel it." Harmony closed their eyes, head tilted up, breathing in. "It's working. Even now I can sense my Spirit spreading, like a net made of a million little roots. Any pain would be worth this."

Alexander didn't really know what to say to that, but thankfully Jahdiel chose that moment to come near. The elf marched up before them and saluted.

"Preparations are ready," Jahdiel said. "Two hundred of us standing watch on the lower levels. Though I'll admit," here, his sharp features strained, "if a whole force of Enforcers really does come, I don't know how long we'd be able to hold out."

Harmony nodded. "I agree, but we do not need to worry about Enforcers just yet. Right now, the only threat comes from those escaped humans."

Jahdiel raised a brow. "Weren't there only four of them?"

"Daphne was one," Harmony said, and at this both Alexander and Jahdiel had to grimace. "We can handle her, but not if we underestimate her powers."

"You really think they'll try to fight us now?" Alexander said, arms crossed.

"Of course. The alternative is to contact the Ranger Corps, and that would take far too long for their victory to be anything other than a pyrrhic one." Harmony inclined their head and turned to walk closer to Halcyon. Wordlessly, the others followed. "At most, they chose one in their number to do so, and the rest will attempt an attack. The task now is to hold out until Operation Checkmate has succeeded. The Ranger Corps is an enemy for another day."

"In that case, wouldn't the best strategy be to... move you?" Harmony's purple gaze settled heavily on him from over their shoulder, and Jahdiel had to gulp down his brief impulse to flinch. "Of course, I don't doubt your strength, Director. But if you're the key to our plans..."

"No offense taken," Harmony said. Then, after a pause, they raised a hand, flexing it. "Do you see this hand? It was broken by that human boy some hours ago."

Alexander examined it, unsure what the point was. "Your Spirit healed it."

"So it did. Except my Spirit has never been strong enough to heal such injuries this quickly." Harmony stopped just a few feet away from Halcyon's stem, looking up at its towering head. Fireflies danced in waves over it, casting the three Greenkin in mingling lights. "This crown... as it sends my Spirit out, it brings me Spirit in return. I activate the thorn seeds, and when those seeds sprout they devour all the Spirit around them. That is how the Talisman works. I only needed to use it to realize it."

Like a parasite, Alexander thought, unbidden. And slowly, the full implications of that became clear to him. "Your Spirit will keep growing," he said, mind blank. If it was like this after only a few hours...

Harmony looked back at him, granting a single, sharp nod. "I cannot even imagine the power I will wield by the end," they said. "Already, I have more Spirit than I ever thought was possible. Looking at Jahdiel now, the fairy noted the way he seemed to silently vibrate with excitement. "Do you see, Jahdiel? I do not need to run. We hold out now while my Spirit blooms, and once the Enforcers do come..."

"It'll be too late to defeat you," Jahdiel said, breathless, and all his furrowed worry dissolved into an ecstatic smile.

Harmony opened their mouth, about to say more, but at that moment one of the satyr guards in the room waved over at them, kneeling with his other hand on the ground. "Councilmen! Director! Report from downstairs! Movement in the forest! Looks like something big is coming!"

At once, Jahdiel's smile narrowed into the same stern frown he'd held before. "I guess that'll be them."

Alexander nodded, and everything about their conversation immediately fell away. His hands tightened against his crossed biceps. "And I am sure that fire user will be there..."

"Have Silviamon there," Harmony said. The fairy turned back to Halcyon, hands behind their back. "I will remain here. If anyone makes it past you all, a closed room like this will be to my advantage."

"With me, you lot!" Alexander bellowed, pointing at the half dozen guards in the room with them. Jahdiel fell in beside him, and together they walked out of the pavilion, leaving Harmony alone to admire the impossibly large flower at its center.

"Come morning," they whispered. "Come morning, and my promise will be fulfilled..."

- - - — MKII — - - -

Rows of blue-clad guards stood before the World Tree's entrance. Spearmen at the front, archers behind, and in front of them all stood Lorcana, newly healed and newly motivated, feathers standing as straight as her back. Her silver lance stood stalwart beside her, tip planted into the mushy ground, and her sharp eagle eyes stared at the rustling forest across the clearing.

Treetops shook to and fro, birds scattered in the night sky with echoing cries, and a constant thump grew closer by the second.

Luckily, most of the Changelings had come out of the previous fight unscathed, standing in a line on her right and left, and the scrapes that the regular security behind them suffered were easy enough to treat. Altogether, it was the single largest show of force she had ever led during her time as Head of Security.

Meaning that failure is not an option, she thought grimly. One embarrassing loss was bad enough, and even if she felt fine enough now the shame of it ached. Still, she felt confident. The only thing she wished for now was—

"Khurang?"

The word left her on its own, because out from the trees came that very same chimera, her partner and friend. At first she felt joy—she thought the beast dead—but the longer she stared the less hard it was to ignore how Khurang seemed to charge at her rather than to her. His eyes, always seething with controlled violence, now seemed entirely wild and unfocused.

And then, the rest came in behind him.

Bears brown and black, wolves and coyotes and foxes, a pair of griffins, deer and elk and a wall of moose, wild boars, a cockatrice and a small wyvern, leopards, winged cats, beavers and chipmunks and squirrels, flocks of falcons and hawks and owls, jackalopes, clouds of beetles and mosquitoes and flying ants, and it didn't stop there.

Masses and masses of creatures, furred backs, gnashing teeth, claws, roars and growls, pincers, talons, flapping wings, it all bore down on the waiting guards, breaking through the trees and charging right through the clearing with uncontrolled momentum.

Among them were the humans. Daphne rode one of the griffins, flying over the crowd of animals and monsters, while Clover and Malcolm held on for dear life atop one of the moose. It was a surreal sight even for the hoofed and furred Greenkin.

Gritting her teeth, Lorcana took up her lance and pointed its tip right at the coming wall of fauna. "Hold! Don't let them through!"

The spearmen drew down their weapons like her. The archers notched their arrows and aimed. The Changelings all clapped their hands and transformed, growing to twice their sizes and snarling right back at the charging animals.

And in a second, contact. An explosion of noise and clawing blood.