They were loud, too loud. The monsters were right behind them, but the party of four had no choice but to keep running. The Madlib had been clear, and the whole party had agreed, but the fact checker couldn’t help but worry she’d pressed too hard. The vortex wall was dangerous, deadly, but it was also the only way out of this nightmare. Two years, two years of living surrounded by monsters and desperation. Even if no one in their party fully remembered those years, they’d pieced enough together to realize they were in a trap. If it was a choice between risking death for a chance at freedom or accepting the inevitable, the party had chosen freedom.

“Behind us!” a voice rang out. The monsters had caught up. They were crows that stood the height of an adult. They were almost entirely featherless except for their faces, spines, and the edge of their wings, where midnight black feathers glittered. The rest of them were a pale, almost albino white, with a tinge of green reminiscent of the vortex the party sprinted toward. The monsters spread out as they exited the ally, their black eyes like empty sockets carried not so much as a glimmer of mercy.

There was no other choice now: face the vortex and hope the stolen firefighter gear protected them, or face the monsters without pity. Some of her friends screamed as they made the choice to dive through the swirling haze surrounding the town. As a fact checker, it was her job to remember the facts, the details. It was her job to know, to understand. Her job to see.

She looked over her shoulder to take in as much information as possible, an unforgivable mistake that led to an inevitable stumble.

It wasn’t just losing sight of the path in front of her that cost the fact checker her footing; it was the sight of the monsters popping out of existence one by one as her party disappeared into the glowing haze wall. The truth sparked in her brain, telling her an impossibly hard truth. These monsters were tied to them, part of them. She’d directed her friends into the vortex, and their pursuers vanished. She wished she could believe it was because they’d escaped whatever nightmare this place was.

Only one of the raptor-like crows remained, and it lowered its head and charged its helpless prey. The fact checker squeezed her eyes shut, praying to all the gods that she wouldn’t be alone when time looped again.

Most of a mile away, the Aisle Wanderers were deciding on their next movement.

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“My Mad Lib skill is off cooldown,” Phoebe said. “But Angie brings up a good point. We were supposed to be testing it, but I’m not sure we got a clear answer.”

“Maybe that’s the point?” Igor suggested. “An uncertain power— the mad lib— when trusted, is born out. So we’re uncertain about the mad lib power, but if we trust it, it’ll work?”

“You are all thinking too hard about this,” Leo said, shaking his head in annoyance, “forget about anything you don’t understand. We’re in the middle of a disaster, and lawless dangers are putting us all at risk. We’re cut off from any armies or national guard, and the police will be trying to help an entire town, so they won’t get to us anytime soon. What’s left? We need to go to them. Oh, and guess what, my ability is telling me to do just that.”

“Got it!” Angie said, slamming the claw release button. “Suck it bitches!” she sing-songed as she reached for her prize.

“Angie...” Phoebe said as new information bubbled up in her brain. The box only contained a voucher.

Leo laughed a moment later, just before Angie scowled and shook the too-light box. While Phoebe found herself remembering the contents of the box, Leo remembered the subverted expectation a bare moment before furious disappointment clouded Angie’s expression.

“Bossman,” Angie growled, glaring at her former supervisor, “Where’s my prize.”

Igor blushed and pointed at a sign on the corner of the claw machine: “Grand Prizes available upon redemption of voucher only, call (313)555-1234 to redeem voucher or visit ClawPrizes.com”

“That’s some bullshit right there,” Angie said, reading the sign. She pulled out her phone and tried calling the number before swearing again. “This voucher better not expire,” she said, summoning her Shadow Bag and depositing the slip. Well, what are we doing? Another mad lib?”