It would be a lie to say that I preferred to be solitary. Certainly, these days, I had become attached to more than one individual. Hunters weren’t usually built this way - our lives of immeasurable horror and unpalatable realities drew us to be lone wolves. Too maladjusted to play well with others. That’s where I differed. If you ignored all the other things like eldritch and divine power apparently within me. Perhaps it was this balance that put me higher up the ladder. The dizzying heights a threat - but, oh god, the view.

Amber washed over me as I entered the Lowers once more. The heat barely even bothered me now. Nothing but a warm summer’s day, if you excluded the abhorrent scenery. The nightclub still lay in ruins. Something new to the scene that I had not been expecting was the large demon sitting behind the pile of rubble.

//Visual and… oh wow…

At least forty feet tall and just as wide, the demon was a mound of thick green skin. Bulbous and weighty, with no legs to be seen. It had two long arms - almost excessively so - that it was currently employing to grab large chunks of debris and ply them into its wide maw. Two eyes of pale yellow, black slits down the center turned slowly to observe me.

As Wight filtered in beside me, I picked out maybe a dozen or so figures clambering through the fallen building, sifting and arranging things found within.

“Hey, big guy.” I put my hand over my eyes - unnecessarily, given my hat did that job. “Looking for a weapon. Mind if I nosey around?”

The demon leaned a little closer and then sat back up straight and gestured towards the figures milling around. He seemed content enough to continue his meal and saw me as no threat.

//Audio fine. Sixteen smaller demons ahead.

I walked over to the rubble with my patron close behind. The demons sorting through everything were some other type I hadn’t met before. They were slim and a pale gray all over, as if they were wearing a bodysuit. Even the short horns atop their bald heads were the same color. Their eyes were plain white orbs that sat above mouths that were… I squinted my eyes… sewn shut?

[These demons are quite passive.]

I whistled and gestured for a small group of three of them to come over. They stood a good foot taller than me, and as they approached, I could see my assumption about their mouths seemed to be correct.

“Hey, uh - the big one said I could borrow your help for a second…” They glared at me impassively. “I’m looking for a weapon for my friend here, if you’ve seen any in the ruins there?”

[A dagger or small sword would be preferable.]

“Magic or, I guess, enchanted, too?” The words felt weird coming out of my mouth. As weird as things were, I started to wonder if those were things you could actually get on weapons or if I had been living in fantasy land too long.

They nodded and scurried off, spreading out to some of the piles they had all started arranging. I watched over at the side as one of them flinched away from the larger demon as he raised a fist, unhappy with some offering.

“Like to stick with the shorter blade, huh?”

[I feel it is more fitting for my current stature.]

The word ‘current’ seemed ominous, but I decided to let it slip for now. I wasn’t keen for him to get into any more trouble than he needed to be, but a little support and sneaky assistance would be nice.

A few minutes later, the group of three returned. It looked like they had found several, but had opted to present the one they thought would be most fitting first. This was only my assumption, as I had watched them create a small pile of their findings before they democratically decided on the most prized weapon to show us. An interesting quirk.

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I was not an expert on smaller blades, but it resembled a dirk. The blade was obsidian black, and it had a thin strip of bright crimson running up the flat sides. Dark gray leather wrapped the handle, the base of which was engraved with the letter W.

“Huh, fitting. What do you think?”

[I like this weapon, Eric.]

Slowly, I removed the dagger from their grip and gave them a bow. “Uh, do I need to exchange anything?”

Just as soon as I had asked, they had already scurried off to continue their master’s bidding. I passed the weapon to Wight, and he jabbed at the air with it.

[Neat.]

A smile crossed my face despite the absurdity. He couldn’t even carry it when transferring into mist form or through planes - but it made him happy and gave him a bit more purpose when we were in the thick of it. His short bird arms weren’t made for combat, but his enthusiasm couldn’t be denied.

//Eric? Come in.

“Reporting. You want us to kill the dog things now?”

//Negative. Quest has been replaced. New Intel coming in now.

I raised an eyebrow at my patron. I wasn't even sure I would be able to feign disappointment that I wouldn’t be getting my legs chewed off. “We should head back.”

With a sigh, I looked around the nightclub once again. In one swift motion, I withdrew the revolver.

The red beam of light, one foot wide, cored through the head of the bloated demon. Chunks of skull and brains splattered on the overheated rock below, and I holstered the revolver.

Wight handed me the blade, and a few seconds later, I was walking back into the basement.

“Ah, they have a change of heart?” I clucked my tongue and waited for Wight to catch up.

“Not exactly.” Rodney shook his head, and his brow was furrowed, staring at his screens.

[That wasn’t all demons, Eric.]

I turned to grin at my patron. “There’s a little more nuance to the statement, isn’t there?”

[So it seems.]

“Right.” Rodney scratched at his hair. “So… it’s a rescue mission; two Hunters were out on a Quest against pigmen-“

“That’s two red flags already,” I groaned.

“One Hunter dead, one is injured.”

“Against pigmen? Why are they sending me to wipe the noses of-“

“Because.” the Blank sighed. “A gang calling themselves Redd Death interrupted, and there’s a whole gang war going on now that the Hunters were caught in the middle of.”

I ran my tongue across my teeth. Some of that sounded vaguely familiar, but I didn’t see how it was particularly my problem to fix. “They can’t just return?”

“Apparently not. I’m not sure what their original Quest was - I assume assassination or culling.” Rodney rubbed his chin. “They have said that it is a matter of urgency. Underlined and bold.”

When they started using fancy text identifiers, you knew they meant business. If anything, it was proof that not all Hunters were cut out for the Lowers life. I had never had a rescue mission assigned to me - even at my worst. It was probable that half the reason they had failed was because they had sent two together.

“Did one of the Hunters kill the other?” I raised my eyebrows to Wight.

[A reasonable assumption.]

“They didn’t specify. Let me sort the portal out - the sooner you can get in there, the sooner they’ll stop messaging me over and over. I want to make a good impression for my meeting later.” He shot a quick glare at me that was more borne of panic than annoyance.

“Of course, we will do our best.” It was the least we could do for the Blank. “It’s possible they will be watching us, Wight. You want to go in subtle? Might be an idea not to be so overt.”

[I know what you mean. For this Quest, I shall inhabit the revolver.]

If I didn’t know any better, I would have said he looked glum after the decision. In fact, I did know better - and he definitely was looking forward to a bit of Redd & Wight duo time. Hopefully, the rescue would be a brief jaunt to hand-hold the low-level Hunter, and after a quick fix and a few dead piggies, we’d be back for another Quest.

Even if Rodney had to leave, I had been considering doing some solo stuff with Wight. A danger, for sure, but he himself had said that I needed to focus on growing my own power. If we had survived the Mantid Hive and the Sea with the loose shoebox full of abilities previously, then the hardened and ever-evolving pair of us should be able to really draw a thick red line throughout the Hells.

Rodney stood and brushed his knees off. “Well, just give it a couple of seconds to configure, and it’s all yours.” He returned to his chair to get his technology set back up.

“Any other information? How close will I be going in?”

He sucked on his teeth and tapped through a few options on his viewer. “You’ll not be right on them. As I know you love pigmen, you’ll be happy to learn that the drop point is on their side of the conflict.”

“Great.” I rolled my eyes. “So it’s a search and rescue.”

“They’re a Hunter.” Rodney grinned. “How hard can they be to find?”

I caught Wight nodding in agreement to my side. They weren’t wrong, but it still stunk of something even worse than whatever the pigmen could brew up. Secretly, I was a little pleased that my gang had been wreaking havoc, although the Org would have an even dimmer view of my little pet project now.

“Ready then, Wight?”

[I was birthed unto existence already prepared.]

Great, then. As the portal spooled up and shimmered into a stable form, I sheathed the dagger and withdrew my revolver.

Time to save a Hunter.