Momo’s first response was to run.

She grabbed her clone by the wrist and shot straight back into the tower, pushing past the ghastly, lethargic souls that were splayed across the courtyard. None of them complained as she shoved them aside; their eyes were still sleepy slits, their mouths perpetually open in a neverending yawn. It was as if they were coming back to life in slow motion, sloths forced into costumes of human flesh.

“What was that voice in the sky?” Clone-Mo asked, obviously stressed as they flew into the Dawn’s foyer. The place was empty of necromancers now; it was nearing mid-day, so the nocturnal adepts were fast asleep in their caskets. “Should you be doing the hand signal now? This feels like a three-finger type situation. Or, maybe a four-finger one. The sky doesn’t tend to rip open and start yelling at us in Mallmart.”

Momo didn’t reply as she came upon the treasury. It was the one room locked behind a skeleton key. As she suspected, she was able to use her Nether manipulation skills to unlock it swiftly, as it wasn’t truly a skeleton key, in the same way that those worms she was snacking on weren’t really worms. With a whisk of her fingers, it melted into goo, dripping onto the floor. The giant doors, painted with snakes and koi fish, yawned open.

“Like I’ve been trying so far unsuccessfully to tell you, I brought you here for a reason,” Momo said as she closed the doors tightly behind them. As they clicked into place, all sound died behind them. It was utterly quiet in the treasure chamber, Momo’s voice echoing off the tall cobblestone walls. “And that reason has officially arrived.”

Surrounding them was every kind of expensive trinket imaginable: gold coins, silver statuettes of dragons, polished skulls from various life forms. Momo had only been in here once before, early on in her time in Alois, when Valerica first gifted her Olivia Magelegs’ heirloom. It looked mostly the same, except for one differentiating factor: in the far back of the room was another door, just as big as the one they came through. It had a giant stone bar running across it, so it was locked from the outside. That door definitely wasn’t there before, back on Alois.

If this were very different—and considerably less dire—circumstances, her curiosity would have been consumed by it. Instead, she was spending her precious Mana crafting wings and horns out of Nether. She offered them to her clone, who eyed the offering dejectedly.

“You brought me here to… have someone else to play dress up with?” her clone said, horrified as Momo handed her the wings. They had attached straps for her to sling her arms through. The horns were similarly sewn into a hairband. Despite the accessibility alterations, they were nearly visually identical to Momo’s own, at least from a distance. “That’s really depressing, Momo. You seriously must have no friends.”

“I have friends,” she found herself saying, feeling defensive despite how ridiculously wrong the accusation was. “Look, I need you to be my decoy, okay? Just pretend this is like one of those Mallmart security exercises.”

“Like the one where we pretend someone has a gun, and we’re expected to protect the fifteen dollar yoga pants with our lives?”

“Exactly. Now, listen closely. Here’s how this drill is going to go,” she said calmly, trying to hide her inner panic. She laid her hand on her clone’s shoulder. “Very soon, possibly in the next sixty seconds, a really frightening woman—think of her like a Mallmart Karen—is going to get all up in your business. She’ll probably say some pretty scary things. But this is just a drill. The moment she tries to hurt you, you’ll be flung back to your world. Back to Earth.”

Her clone processed this for a moment, before murmuring, “so you are a space alien.”

“Momo.” Exasperated air spilled from her lips. “Not the time.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. I’ve never done a drill like this one before. What if I don’t know what to say? What if I say the wrong thing? What if we don’t have any sweatshirts in her size?”

“You’ll do okay, I promise. Just buy me some time, alright?”

Something like an earthquake struck the ground, and the tower began to rumble. The floor shook; small stones dislodged from the ceiling and rained down on top of them. Clone-Mo squatted onto the floor and flung her arms protectively over her head, terrified. She started shaking her head definitely back and forth.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I can’t do it, Momo,” she cried. “I’m going to let you down.”

Momo flourished her wings to protect them both, the sharp pebbles bouncing off of black feathers. She got to Momo’s level and wrapped both of her arms around the girl, squeezing tight. It was an unnatural sensation, comforting herself.

“Yes, you can,” she said softly. We both can, she thought.

Thunder rumbled so loudly that it could be heard through the treasury’s deafening doors. Momo looked down at her bracelet—the Catwalk Communicator that had been her essential conduit to Azrael, and which was now leading Sera straight towards her—and undid the latch tying it to her wrist. She reached for her clone’s arm.

“What’s this?” Clone-Mo sniffled. “Some kind of weird alien watch?”

“It’s a present,” Momo said, smiling. “Something to remember this moment by. Keep it safe, okay? Don’t let Luna eat it. It’ll give her indigestion.”

Her twin nodded. With a parting smile, Momo headed for the curious back door.

“Do I have to go back out there for the exercise?” Mall-Mo asked ruefully. “This place is nice. Dark. Cozy. I’d rather stay here.”

“That’s fine,” she replied, heaving the stone bar upwards. She pushed open the door ever-slightly, to survey the outside. To her surprise, it led directly into the forest bordering the Dawn. There was a rugged path of dirt through the trees, and no Sera in sight. “Just remember to use your customer service voice. That’ll drive her crazy.”

“Okay, boss.”

Huddled on the floor, Clone-Mo gave her a small salute. Momo grinned widely.

As the building rumbled again, Momo passed through the door, and shut it firmly behind her.

Then she started running.

She didn’t even crane her neck to check if Sera was on her tail. From the sounds she heard from inside the Dawn, she was sure the woman was already busy ransacking the corridors in search of her, and she’d locate Momo’s twin soon enough.

She sprinted, and the forest enveloped her—a soft caress of pine needles and oak trees. As she neared the replicant area’s boundary, the trees’ once-green leaves began to shimmer black. Plants faded in and out of existence. She ran and ran until she hit a hard, invisible wall, until everything was calm and black, and then she looked upwards towards the sky. She could still see smudges of blue through the treetops.

She couldn’t stay here. That was for certain. She’d exit this bubble and find somewhere safe to free the remaining souls, and then she’d be done with this. Sera’s plan would be dead on arrival.

It was time for one last escape.

She flourished her wings. They tore through leaves, branches, and finally, clouds, until the Dawn was just a speck of cobblestone dust.

—

When she opened her eyes, she was back in the black.

The in-between zone.

And of course, there was her stupid Yaris.

“Stupid Yaris,” she couldn’t help but repeat aloud, addressing the car as if it was an unfortunate rival. “I wish something more useful would spawn here instead.”

“Oh, my my. Seems you’re in luck, then”

A sweet, seductive voice like an ice-cold milkshake echoed from behind her. She whipped her head around, only to be met with the end of a black umbrella. All the muscles in her face went rigid. She recognized that umbrella. It was the valet’s umbrella. Sera’s valet. She stifled the gasp in her throat. Of course. Sera knew better than to leave an exit unguarded.

“I don’t think we’ve actually been acquainted in-person, you and I.”

Momo reached for her rapier. The umbrella shuttered, and a form flickered behind it. All she could see was a face—a slim, gaunt face, protruding from the darkness. It had three eyes: one blue, one red, one yellow, and a thin-lipped, serpentine grin.

“Come on, no screams? No humiliating pleas of mercy?” he said, tossing the umbrella aside. It began floating in space towards her Yaris. “You must recognize me, don’t you? After all, you’re one of my favorite disciples.”

The figure stepped closer, his physical form revealing itself to her [Eye of the Nether Demon]. He was a creature of two distinct halves: on the right side of his body, he had one leg and one arm, of about average human length and width, and was dressed in all white. Conversely, the left portion of his body was completely shrouded in dark rippling smoke.

“I… one of your disciples?” Momo trailed off. A sensation of foreboding crept up her neck. Just who is this guy? “No bells ringing, sorry.”

His grin shuttered into a scowl.

“Fine, then. Courier.” He snapped his fingers in the air. “Why don’t you inform her?”

A piece of parchment flickered into existence in front of her eyes. There was a single line of information written on it.

Deity Warning! You have been visited by Mordecai, God of Thievery and Deception.

Momo all but fainted.

Seeing her pale expression, the man’s grin returned.

“There’s no way,” she stuttered, finding her voice after several light-headed seconds. “I—I heard Sera beating up the valet inside the Viper. Beating you up. The guy with the dark umbrella. There would be no way she’d pummel a literal god like that. You have to be lying.”

“Oh, him?” Mordecai laughed. He raised his hand, and dark magic began to bubble like boiling water in his palm. “Well, the dead man was hardly using his umbrella.”