Arguing with Keeva used to be the last thing Cove wanted to do; it had just been replaced. He’d trade a lifetime of verbal war with his wife, flames and all, to escape these three hideous nightmares.

Cove fixated on the... they could be frogs. Maybe... But... well... if you crossed a frog, a really big one, taller than Gath, with an alligator, a very desperate, lonely creature with an angler fish somewhere in its genealogy... yes, it might look like these things.

Essie hammered on his arm. "Uncle Cove... wha... what is that?"

"Spiked ravenger," Cove whispered with a blend of terror and fascinated scientist.

The beasts’ legs flopped like newborn hadrosaurs as they slipped out of their shells, pushed through the unlatched cage door, and onto the floor.

"What's it doing?"

"It just revived after half an eon in hibernation. I imagine it is hungry."

The locked observation room door clicked open. The guard strutted out, scanned the room with hooded eyes, and fixated on the nearest ravenger. The woman licked her lips, stroked her neckline, and began unlacing her outfit.

“Come here, my pretty boys,” said the female guard to the three monsters.

Cove’s jaw dropped. “She cannot be serious… just how much blissfire was in that dart?”

Essie lifted the empty container and read, “5cc purified blissfire extract, plus a whole bunch of things that Aunt Keeva would have trouble saying. Is that a lot?”

Cove gulped and nodded. “Enough for a weekend dorm party.”

"I've never seen frogs this big," Gath said as he maneuvered between Essie and the beast.

The teenager harrumphed and pushed herself between Cove and Gath. She took her first battle pose and asked, "What does it eat?"

Cove motioned the two teenagers back as he said, "Mages."

"Not funny, Uncle Cove."

"I am not laughing," whispered Cove. "Imagine an entire species evolved not to absorb but to hunt animals full of Elystria."

Gath gulped and asked, "Why?"

Cove shook his head. The soldier had the slavering attention of the three frogs as she performed a strip tease. This is going to get ugly fast. Should I try and save her? Should I cover Essie and Gath’s eyes?

Crack! The decision was taken away by the center ravenger as its spiked tail lanced the woman and lifted her off the ground. Not to be outdone, tounges from the right and left monsters whipped around her chest and legs and ripped her in half, splattering her innards from floor to ceiling. The beasts slipped and slid into the mess and fed.

Bile rose in Cove’s mouth.

Essie leaned forward, swaying back and forth as she said, "Can I kick it?"

"I am not sure that would be wise. Gretta, what are these things weaknesses?"

“Stay out of reach. Do ye have anythin’ long and sharp? A spear, maybe?”

A sarcastic comment rose, ready to explode from his mouth, when the snaps and clicks of two collapsible, carbon fiber battle staves interrupted him. His head spun right and left. Essie and her boyfriend glanced up from securing long knives to their combat bō. “Where did you hide those? You are wearing a two-piece swimsuit…”

Essie stretched and swirled her weapon as she said, “Later! You get the middle one.” She danced forward, the bō an impossible blur until a tongue shot at her. The armor liner flickered as the bladed tip slowed, passed through the offensive appendage, and resumed its blinding swirls.

Whip-crack!

“Shite,” said Cove as he thumped to his bum and his head thwacked against the floor, the marble floor. Elystria flowed from Cove into the stone, and a ridge rose under his feet, stopping his rapid progress towards a gaping maw filled with rows of dagger-point teeth. The tongue yanked and tugged at his calves. Cove didn’t move. The… was it a frog? Did amphibians have jaws full of teeth? Who was that woman at the university who specialized in Chordata… Ruth something? She would know.

The spiked ravenger reminded Cove he had better things to consider than dumpy biology professors by cracking the tile next to Cove’s head with its spike tail. “Do frogs have tails?”

“This one does,” the teens answered between breaths.

He dug into his pockets, searching for his Azure wallet, and remembered exchanging his spheres for an assortment of the new coins, which he’d spent getting around town and buying meals at the temple cafeteria. What he found were sealed packages of STDs.

Cove smiled. This was not a typical grin; in fact, he had never used it before. It should have terrified the spiked ravenger. A tidewrath, even a leviathan, would have taken an evasive path to the depths of the deepest canyon on the abyssal plain of the world sea, cuddled between a dozen Kraken lords, and prayed the Stoneshaper wouldn’t follow. It was that kind of smile.

The small vial warmed as Cove pressed Elystria through the glass, past the plastic, and into the phosphorus. A giggle grew into a cackle and then mutated into that weird laugh, the one edging on melodramatic yet so packed with ill intent that the most ardent horror film lover still pees their pants after the third showing. “You have no idea,” said Cove. He flicked the glowing vial past the rows of teeth.

Cove learned two things in quick succession: First, spiked ravengers are not intelligent. Grettaluna had said as much, but her assertion was quickly proven when the hopped-up amphibian swallowed the vial of Elystria-saturated phosphorus. The second tidbit became apparent when the highly reactive metal mixed with the now somewhat panicked frog’s stomach acid.

Cove snickered and put on his teacher's voice. “Can you tell me what happens when you mix phosphorous and hydrochloric acid?”

“Uncle Cove! We’re a little busy. When are you going to do something about your frog?”

“In about five, four, three, two, one—”

A sound, very like a jar of spoiled Eastern fish sauce shattering on the floor, followed by a stench exactly like Eastern fish sauce, filled the lab as the former spiked ravenger simultaneously cooked and exploded, coating the entire lab with overcooked innards.

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“Disgusting,” said Essie as she pulled a chunk of something resembling a steak cooked with an arc welder from her chest and flung it at her frog.

“Brains over brawn,” said Cove as he dusted his hands. “I am going to wash up while you two finish.”

"Uncle Cove," said Essie, "what did you do to yours?"

"I gave it an STD sweetened with a little Elystria."

The grim-faced young teens danced, shifting, staying away from the teeth and tails, the bladed ends of their bō cutting shallow grooves but not penetrating. Essie's armor liner flared and dimmed as she buffed her slight body, bulking her muscles. The Elystria charged blade dug a shallow trench, but no flesh showed, and the beasts appeared more annoyed than injured. The battle dance slowed as the blood lust left the friend's eyes, replaced by confusion.

"Uncle Cove?"

"Yes?"

"Hitting it really hard isn't working."

"Would you like some help?"

"Yes," the pair said.

Two more STDs appeared in Cove's hand. He began charging them as he said, "Turn them towards me one at a time."

Essie whacked her ravenger, motioned to Gath, and hopped over a tail swipe from her beast.

Gath danced, poking at his monster's remaining bulbous eye, prodding it to turn.

Cove dodged a stream of something that sizzled past him and dissolved a long splatter-shaped hole into the marble floor. That sense of panic and glee akin to riding in the first row of a rollercoaster filled him as he said, "Holy brattiraptor pellets! These things shoot acid! I want that gland before we leave."

"Just kill the thing," Gath said.

Cove tossed the STD.

The spiked ravenger chomped the blade from Gath's bō.

"Oh, man," Gath said, "that was my last one."

The small bottle of charged potassium lodged in the creature's nostril. The overcharged metal pulsed and flared as the beast shook its head. The ravenger sniffed and blew, snot shooting from the unplugged nares.

"Hit the STD," said Cove. "It needs to go inside!"

Essie paused, nearly dropping her weapon as she said, "No! Don't! It'll blow—"

Wack!

Ribbit? Ribbit!

BOOM!

Frog brain and shattered skull joined the gore, painting the walls and floor. In the center of the skull, the remaining phosphorus fragments exploded, releasing a pillar of hydrogen-fueled flame and setting off a single fire sprinkler head. Enough warm water to fill a bathtub began to rain down on Cove and Gath. Both winced as bright strobe lights flared to life and the emergency alert system announced, “Fire, fire, fire, floors forty to fifty, report to your evacuation center.”

"Wow...," Gath said as he inspected and washed his bō.

Essie took a hesitant step towards Gath. "Are you okay?" She screamed.

Cove whirled to find Essie's feet braced on the front teeth of her ravenger, its tongue wrapped around her waist, and her bō deflecting the barbed tail.

“Essie!” Gath ripped the STD from Cove’s fist, tore open the package, and ducked under the beast's tail.

The spiked ravenger belched in alarm, and its bulbous eyes bulged even further as they rolled to see what hurt him. Then, they whipped forward to see why his mouth hurt, only to discover that his tongue and prey were missing.

Ribbit?

Pfft!

The frog whimpered, frowned, and began to wail. It tried to lick at the dark ichor pooling under its hindquarters. Still, the remaining meter of its bloody appendage would not reach. It slumped, cast watery eyes at Cove, and whimpered.

“You have got to be kidding,” said Cove to the frog, “There is no way in the nine hells.”

Deep, despondent, crushing fear radiated from the animal.

“I cannot help you…”

Essie’s armor flared. She burst forward, leaping, skimming the ceiling, and lanced her knife tipped bõ through the wounded ravenger’s eye and deep into its skull, snapping the blade. She blew the landing and slid through a pile of entrails before slamming into the wall.

“Essie,” Cove said as he slipped over to his niece, “are you okay?”

“THAT WAS INCREDIBLE,” Essie said with a screaming smile. She bounded to her feet and caught Gath in a spinning embrace.

“It was better than Master Feardorcha’s simulation! And your finishing move! Brilliant!”

“Essie,” said Cove with a cool uncle with a sour face, “did you bring a change of clothes?”

“Yes? Why?”

“I will give you two reasons, and you can guess the third. First, the interface liner for your Azure armor was never intended to be an Elystria battery. Second, you have been using power to stay invisible, and more so during the battle. What happens to your armor as it empties?”

Essie squeaked and checked herself, her hands frantically adjusting her swimsuit and her head on a swivel being drug around by her darting eyes. She sighed. “You made it sound like I was naked!”

“No,” Cove said in a calming tone, “you assumed that’s what I said, but if you keep using power like you have, it won’t be long before you have nothing left. Think Essie. Forget about your armor becoming transparent. What would have happened during that battle if you had drained the liner? Would you have had the energy to keep your muscles buffed, your bō from snapping, and your blade sharp?”

“Maybe?”

“What about the next battle? What if we have to fight floor by floor to get out of the building?”

“Why do that when we can jump off the roof?”

“Essie, do not be flippant; I am trying to teach you something important.”

“Flip-what? Never mind. If we can get to the roof—”

“Essie,” said Cove, his composure fading. He motioned her to the floor-to-ceiling window, waving for her to look outside. “What do you see?” He waited as the teenagers wiped gore from the glass and gazed out.

“Oh,” said Gath.

“Yeah, that’s going to be a problem, said Essie.

“Yes,” said Cove. “Do you understand why you cannot jump?”

“Ah… Uncle Cove, you need to see this.”

“Forty floors up are higher than it sounds—”

“Professor,” Gath said with the first hint of fear today. “Please look.”