“What is this? A mockery?” The Ir looks me over in my cat form.

I shake my head, try to speak, and let out a little meow instead. I sigh.

“Can’t talk?”

I shake my head again, and head off; scrambling up the side of a nearby tree, and running along from branch to branch, making my way in the direction of the outpost. We reach the edge of the forest in no time, Nyt keeping up with my speed and agility quite impressively. The Ir’s eyes glowed a light yellow whenever we passed through the thickest shadows. I wonder if mine did the same in this form.

We reach the edge of the woods quickly and quietly. The watchtower that I had destroyed had once watched over this area, but now there was nothing but smoldering wreckage, so there was no worry of getting caught as we darted across the clearing and to the edge of the wall. We scramble up it like the trees and slip in between two of the wattle-and-daub constructs. The pen that they keep the humans in, is somewhere in the middle of the outpost. How would I make sure that they stay safe?

“There’s a building, near the edge of the river.” The Ir says, “It’s pretty holdable. If we could free your hue-mans from their cage, and bring them there we could probably keep them safe while we wreak havoc.”

Were Ir psychic? I nod and glance to the edge of the alleyway.

“I’ll lead. It’s my old office, after all.”

With that, the Ir takes the lead. Just as it reached the end of the alley, and just about to crest into the lighted town center, a ratman comes walking by. As if acting on extinct, the Ir reaches out in a pinkish blur, and the ratman is thrown into the alleyway as it gurgles on its own blood. Several deep claw marks rake across the creature’s throat. The Ir says nothing as it pulls its blood claws back into its hands. It tilts its head in the direction we were to go, and sets off, I follow.

There aren’t many ratmen and dogmen out at this hour, save for a few guards patrolling the streets, and keeping an eye on the prisoners. We stick to the shadows; keeping out of the middle of the walkways so that we weren’t spotted by the few loitering creatures there were; leaving the safety of the tight alleyways in between the wattle-and-daub a-frame constructs only to dart between the streets bisecting the clusters.

I look at the stern-faced Ir, as it presses its body close to the walls as we pass through another of the tight alleyways. How many of its people once lived here? There was room enough for hundreds of them, yet they were reduced to only a handful. Were these the last of the Efrans not loyal to Roki? I have to make sure they make it out of here. Maybe once this is all over, they can return and bring their gods back, if such a thing were possible.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

As we near the canal the tightly packed buildings begin to spread apart.

“We’re almost there.” The Ir says. “There, see?”

At the very edge of the canal was a large, two-story building that could sit in the footprints of two of the houses here. The flicker of flame could be seen coming from the window in the very middle of the top. Nyt sticks its head out and glances around.

“Hold up...” The Ir pulls her head back in, counts to ten, and looks out once more. “Okay, come on.”

She takes off in a dead sprint, that I couldn’t even keep up with. By the time I reach the house, she was already scaling up the walls, and jumping in through the window, and my chest is already heaving, and my breath is painful. Fuck it. I find the front door, turn back into my normal form, and burst through the front.

Three dogmen, seated around a table playing some sort of game with what I assume are cards and dice illuminated only by a single candle flickering in the middle, turn their heads toward me. Before they could get up, I sprint forward and plant a solid kick on the back of the closest. He crashes forward and slams into the table. I end its life with a stamp on the back of its neck.

The other two stand up, I draw the kris and slam it into the gullet of the next, as the last tries to run for the front door to call out a warning. I draw my wand from my pocket.

“You that bind the all, move for me.”

Its body hurdles forward as the invisible force slams into its back. I rip the blade out of the dogman’s throat and approach the last one trying to push itself up. With a fistful of its hair, I yank its head up and slit its throat. Dark red blood runs freely out of the gash as it chokes and dies. Just as I finish up, Nyt steps down the stairs.

“Ah, finished in here?” She retracts her red-stained claws. “Good. Finished up there as well. There’s something up here I have questions about.”

I grip my wand tighter as the Ir motions for me to follow it up the stairs. It vanishes in the stairwell, and I tap my forehead and utter the incantation for Repel before following after the creature. Just in case, I follow it up.

The stairwell is tight and ends in an abrupt corner. I have to turn my whole body so that I could manage to squeeze through, and I have to constantly duck my head. This place was obviously made with a smaller people in mind. At the very end is a door, already open. Nyt is in there, along with the body of a ratman slumped against a wall, with a long, dripping red streak leading down to where it was now seated.

Nyt looks over a desk with a bunch of papers on top.

“This isn’t anywhere on Efra. Is it Earth?” She says as she taps one of the papers in the middle.

I walk across the room, slide the kris into its sheathe and approach the desk. Under her clawed finger was a map. A map anyone would recognize — a map of the continental US, with eight large circles across it; the Zones that the Chosen were currently working to clear.

“Yes.” I pick it up.

On the top, in bold lettering stamped on the yellowed paper.

Property of the US Marines.