“This isn’t how it was supposed to be, it was supposed to be us fat, bald and useless running Wyatt Family spots in high school gyms in our 70’s. Where do we go now? What do I do knowing I’ll never hear your condescending sarcasm as I am riding high? I miss you so fucking much already. I would do anything just live through our worst moments again, I can’t believe you’re gone. I’m so sorry brother. I’m so sorry.” -Bray Wyatt’s tribute to Brodie Lee-

_____

There was an aroma to spicy food that James always liked. Not specifically the heat itself, though he could already tell that if he sniffed at a bowl of Anesh’s curry from up close it would be eye watering, but instead the way it filled a room. The simple magic of taking plants that evolved a way to keep their consumers away, drying and chopping and brining and grinding them, and then using that defense mechanism as flavor. It was like an aura over the whole apartment that invited you in and wrapped you in warmth, even if James could sense the danger laying underneath the lid of the pot on the stove.

The smoke, and subsequent smoke alarm going off, were less inviting. James blinked back the feeling of overwhelming sensory overload as he and the three people following him walked into the apartment after he’d teleported them to just outside the door.

Auberdeen was giving one of those non-committal howls, the wall of white fur standing perched on the edge of one of the couches and doing her best dog yell into the kitchen. Overhead, Rufus and Ganesh clung to the living room’s light fixture, making their own small panicked sounds as they tried to get the ceiling fan turned on. The haze in the air from something burning and the shrill repeated tone of the smoke detector made everything feel like it had an unreal quality to it. In a straight line down the hall, Sarah was softly knocking on the door to the apartment’s bathroom and calling something through the barrier that James couldn’t hear. And some random woman was sitting on his couch in the stiffest, least comfortable looking posture that could be imagined.

James did a double take as he realized Camille was in his apartment. Or a Camille. He wasn’t sure how to think of them. It didn’t matter, she was sitting on his couch, and he spied her plate armor poking out from around the arm. It wasn’t that James had a huge amount of experience with Camilles of any variety, but seeing one unarmored really felt out of place.

It also wasn’t even close to the most important thing going on.

“Arrush, I think your boyfriend is having a bad time. Can you go help Sarah talk to him?” James asked softly, taking charge of the situation as everyone else filed in behind him in the ten seconds he spent processing the situation. “Alanna, go destroy the smoke alarm.” The order was delivered without aplomb and with a flat aggravation in his voice.

“On it!” She sounded way too cheerful as she slid past him, hands on his shoulders while she moved into the apartment.

James nodded. “I’m gonna go help Anesh. TQ, can you stare at Auberdeen, first normally, then magically, until she stops howling? And then, I dunno, relax. Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you. Your home is pleasant.” TQ lied as he slithered in past the line of shoes by the door.

Arrush had already raced ahead down their apartment’s hall, doing that kind of movement that was clearly in a huge hurry, but trying not to look like running. James saw a grateful look shot his way from Sarah as he nodded back at her, and then turned to slip around the corner of the counter and into his kitchen. “So.” He leaned forward to kiss Anesh on the neck, but hesitated at how stressed his boyfriend looked, and at the hot pan he was holding and trying to find a spot for. “What am I helping with?”

“No, it’s fine. Go sit yourself down.” Anesh tried to protest, but the strain in his voice countermanded his order.

“Uh huh.” James said, slipping his hand into an oven mitt and taking the tray covered in burnt… something… from his boyfriend. With a precise toe and a deft flick of his wrist, he deposited the blackened discs into the garbage can, and then turned to drop the tray in the sink to cool down. “Hey Camille! Do me a favor and open the porch door?” He called to the woman sitting on his couch as he realized the smoke wasn’t fading fast enough. “So, what happened?” He asked Anesh while moving to start cleaning up some of the stuff occupying their too-small counter space.

They needed, James had a sudden thought, a green orb for counter space. Or an orange totem. Or… no, those were pretty much their only options. Kind of weird, he mused, that only the Office ever gave them space warping powers. Not that he wanted to see what the Sewer could come up with; they’d probably get a portal to the centipede dimension or something.

Anesh sighed next to him as calm was slowly restored to the apartment. “Nothing serious. Keeka was helping me and some of the naan became… toast…” A palpable understatement escaped his lips. “And then you showed up.”

“Oh! Well that’s not too bad.”

Anesh agreed easily. “No, it’s actually entirely fine. I’ve even got backup naan, I’m just worried about Keeka and didn’t know what to do with the baking sheet.” He paused briefly, mouth twisting slightly. “And also it’s been a long day. My brain isn’t at full capacity.”

“Where are the rest of you?” James asked.

“We rotated out. One of me is napping, one is in Townton.”

“There are four of you.”

“Oh. Uh.” Anesh looked up at the ceiling, and then shrugged. “I’ll ask myself later. Also Ganesh get off the fan! You and Rufus! You’ll hurt yourselves or others!”

James had been thinking the same thing but felt like it would have been adding to the chaos to open with that. “Okay. So, you good?” He asked as he turned off the sink and dried his hands. “I can help out.”

“Shouldn’t you be exhausted? Go sit.” Anesh told him, more confidently this time, as he stirred the pot of simmering curry.

With a small chuckle, James leaned in to successfully plant that kiss. “You’d think so, but actually, I feel great.” He said. In short order, James filled this Anesh in on what had happened earlier, how he’d had the Underburbs disease he hadn’t known he was carrying finally burned out of him.

Anesh cut to a question that James had also had. “What about Zhu?” He asked. “He can get those too, right? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think so. He… I just kind of thought that he slept a normal amount for a navigator, but maybe…” James looked over at their living room, before realizing that at least one person was watching him, so he kept turning to stare at their refrigerator. The good old reliable appliance wouldn’t judge him for the pained look on his face. “I dunno. But fuck, if arcane diabetes works on infomorphs, maybe insulin will too.”

“That…”

“Hush. Let me dream my improbable dream.” James tried to laugh it off, before he felt Anesh lean against him in a hug.

His boyfriend broke off the warm contact sooner than James would have liked. But, he figured, he probably smelled kinda bad. Like gunpowder and sweat and the slightly burned cinnamon of their newest refugees. Nothing too bad on its own, but James could use a shower, and he said as much out loud to Anesh.

Anesh pushed him lightly out of the kitchen. “Go, go, this’ll be done soon and you can eat something too.”

That sounded pretty nice to James. As he left the kitchen, he awkwardly paused in the little gap between it and the living room, and looked over his guests. “Uh… TQ, feel free to let Auberdeen go and relax or something. You need help up onto a couch, or…?” James trailed off as the camraconda deftly pulled his heavy form up onto the cushions. “Neat. Auberdeen, I’m sure you’re a very good dog, but please don’t howl at the smoke alarm. Rufus…” James stared at the stapler, who was slowly lowering himself down from the ceiling fan to their central table. “Rufus, I don’t know. Hi. How ya doing, buddy?” The stapler gave him a flexed shrug of his pen legs before grabbing back onto the descending chain of paperclips. “Cool. Thanks for trying to help.” James looked at the last person, stiltedly seated at the far edge of his couch.

He didn’t have a clue what to say to Camille. This Camille, even. James had sort of intuited a while back that there were more copies of the sisters, probably something similar to Anesh’s own situation. But the almost casual way she’d informed him that the girl he’d met and almost been friends with was dead, the way this one seemed partially hopeful, partially detached, it felt like James was looking at an abuse victim.

A victim that he was pretty sure could kill him with a dinner plate, and was sitting on his couch.

So he didn’t know what to say to her right now. Instead, he offered her a small smile and nod. Tried to make her feel welcome enough that she could maybe relax. He’d figure out what to say later.

Figuring out what to say to Sarah was comparatively easier, as James passed her in the hall. “Hey bubbly.” He greeted his friend. “What’s up?”

Sarah was leaning against their laundry machine and staring at the door to the hall bathroom, an exhausted look on her face, but she still made an effort to smile at James. “Hey.” She paused like she was trying to think of a nickname for him, but gave up. “It’s easy to forget about them, you know?”

“Wh- oh, the ratroaches?”

“Yeah.” Sarah nodded, a pained sadness pulling her mouth into a line. “Keeka’s been doing so much better, you know? He’s like this little light that’s finally shining through all the crud piled on his life. And then one little thing happens, and…” Sarah shrugged. “You know.”

James clicked his tongue. “I do know. I also have pretty bad anxiety.” He said. “He’s physically okay, though, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I think so. He let Arrush in, and I think that’s helping, but I’m not eavesdropping.” Sarah winked at him.

Deciphering a wink from Sarah was an exercise in mental gymnastics that James wasn’t fully equipped for at the best of times. “I… uh… yeah, okay.” He accepted what she’d said at face value, and looked over at the closed door to their hall bathroom. “Let him know we’ve got extra bread, and no one’s mad, yeah?” James said.

“Because that always helps people having anxiety attacks?” Sarah asked him slyly.

It was the closest James ever felt to being eviscerated by his friend, and he found the words hilarious for some reason. Grinning back at her, he nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. Facts and logic are exactly what someone who’s panicking needs to hear. Try to be really condescending while you say it!”

“Get out of here you rapscallion.” Sarah softly kicked at his shins, her socks sliding off the greave that James still hadn’t taken off.

He was laughing as he pushed open the door to his shared bedroom and headed for his own bathroom. The shower was already running, which he knew must be Alanna having beaten him to it, but James wasn’t too worried. His girlfriend showered fast, and was a mild coward about hot water, so there’d be plenty left for him.

Stripping off the bits of armor that he was still wearing, and piling the assorted magic items on top of the stack Alanna had left on one of their nightstands, James started to feel lighter and lighter. It wasn’t like he couldn’t move when he was covered in the gear, but… he hadn’t really considered how it all added up. Four shield bracers, one of the metal plated greaves strapped on his shin, a glove, a bracelet, an earring, nothing onerous on its own. Just… all the things they’d looted from the last Status Quo, turned into an armory. There wasn’t even that much from other places; most of his magic from the Office or Sewer or Attic was internal.

Except his shirt. He still wasn’t sure what it did, or if JP had just been trying to make him more fashionable. But he added it to the pile, grimacing as he looked down at his own chest and saw all the bruises on his skin.

James might not have gotten shot, or even in much of a fight today. But he was still running around and getting into trouble while he was supposed to be healing from a bunch of older injuries. It had been weeks and he still wasn’t fully recovered from everything that had happened in the Underburb, and it wasn’t like James had been taking it easy since then.

While he was staring at his arms, and trying to remember at what stage bruises turned into those yellow blotches, he noticed a thin layer of orange light starting to rise out of one of his limbs. “Hey Zhu.” James muttered as he stood at the foot of his bed. He didn’t want to sit down, because he felt like any contact with the surface would make the blankets unquestionably dirtier right now. “How’d you sleep?”

“I…” The orange glow solidified around James’ neck and shoulder, “think I was dreaming.”

“Neat.”

“It has never happened before.”

“Okay. Is it… is that bad? Wait, you’ve been in my dreams.” James prompted an explanation.

Zhu shivered, dusty feathers and cornea taking shape. “You have been in the living room when it is rearranged for anime night.” The navigator countered. “This was different. I didn’t like it.”

James looked up, staring at the far wall of his shared room. It wasn’t that far away; the bed he was at the foot of didn’t leave much space for more than walking past, but he still stared at it. He’d been meaning to hang something there for a while, and was pretty sure Anesh wanted it decorated too. He should ask Alanna in a minute. He should also pull himself together, he thought. “You had a nightmare?” He practically whispered to his friend. “What about?”

There was a stirring from the manifested infomorph, and a tightness that James could feel almost radiating. Zhu kept silent for a while, the only noise was of the apartment’s air conditioning doing its job, and the water from the shower in the adjoining bathroom. When he started talking, it came out wrong, words crackling like static on an old radio, short gasps of a dying engine before silence again.

It reminded James of a painfully familiar anxiety. “You don’t-“ he tried to tell Zhu. Tried to say that it was okay to take his time, or to not speak at all. He didn’t get far in that attempt.

“Everything.” Zhu said. “Or, nothing. I was dragging you somewhere, but you were…” his voice dissolved into static again before his feathers rippled and multiplied; like gathering strength or taking a breath maybe. “You’d been dead a long time. But I was taking you places. I think we killed a lot of people, and it never stopped. Just…” he was trembling against James’s exposed skin. “I felt like I had no control.”

“Nightmare.” James muttered.

Zhu fluttered. “Just like yesterday.” He softly added.

James tried to be lighthearted. “To be fair, I’m not dead.” He said. It didn’t come out well. Zhu didn’t react, except to sag against him. James had been trying to bolster his companion, but failed miserably. “Okay, let’s try this again. Still not mad at you, personally, but yeah, there’s gonna be some bad dreams.” He breathed deeply of the cool apartment air, the familiar smell of the bedroom helping put him at ease. “There’s never not going to be bad dreams for us. But that’s all they have to be.”

“I am part dream.” Zhu’s voice sounded on the edge of frantic snapping.

“So am I.” James said. “Maybe not as literally, but still. My dreams are part of me, and yours are part of you, and sometimes they suck. But afterward, I’ll be here for you, okay?” James caught Zhu’s manifested claw in his opposite hand. “Even if you want out of all the danger, if you wanna go live with someone else, if we end up getting pissed at each other or something. I’ll still be here if you need me.” From the adjoining room, the sound of running water cut off, and James glanced at the bathroom door. “Also sounds like I get to trade with Alanna. So unless you want-“

Zhu vanished into his skin, the orange feathers sinking back into him like his body was a pond, though thankfully without any ripples.

The bathroom door opened just as James was halfway into an amused laugh to himself, and Alanna came out drying herself off. “Oy. Move your butt, I need to get to the closet.”

“That closet?” James pointed behind her.

“No, the secret bonus closet.” Alanna slid past him, brushing against him and getting James damp while the two of them deciding to go for a casual kiss at the same moment. “The closet you, specifically, keep forgetting about.”

“Oh yeah! That closet!” James glanced at the door that led to what should be the laundry machine, but instead held Alanna’s dresser. “Weird. Okay, well, I’m gonna shower, and then come join everyone. Let them know I’m not dead.”

Shimmying into a pair of polka dot sweatpants, Alanna flashed him a smile. “Can do. I guess everything’s going fine, if you’re in here and half undressed?”

“Eh.” James shrugged. “I’m sorta out of focus, even if I feel great. So maybe I missed a cue about Auberdeen planning to murder everyone or something. But I think it’s fine.” He stepped through the bathroom door, blowing Alanna another kiss before tripping over her discarded clothes, armor, and apparently backup orbs.

[+1 Skill Rank : Bureaucracy - Indian - Construction Permits]

[Problem Solved : Laundry]

The pile of clothes vanished before James could accidentally pop another blue orb by stepping on it, but that just caused him to stumble forward slightly. He let out a soft yelp, before catching himself, and shaking his head rapidly as he tried to figure out what just happened.

Briefly, once he figured it out, he considered calling through the door to Alanna about it. But while he was still feeling the aftereffects of losing his longest running dungeon disease, he didn’t feel like socializing at the moment. So he let it go, assumed Alanna’s pants were properly washed and folded in the secret closet somewhere, hoped it had jump scared her as petty revenge, and turned on the shower with a smirk.

The hot water of the shower - and there was plenty left for him - hit him like a waterfall. Heat and pressure soothing his skin, and pulling his racing and unfocused thoughts away from the latest batch of horrors he’d thrown himself into.

For just a moment, James felt nothing except warmth, and it was fantastic.

Then he started trying to process everything that had happened to him today, and sort through what he could have done better. Was attacking Status Quo the right call? It was the biggest question on his mind. In retrospect, he could easily say yes. Lots of people had gotten hurt, but no one from the Order had died. They’d barely even scored any kills, technically, even though at least a chunk of Status Quo was dead.

James didn’t actually want to kill anyone. He’d be content removing their ability to do harm and make war. Though he knew that was infeasible, in some cases. There was only so far that mercy went when it came to actual monsters.

The harder thing to process was the knowledge of new pillars. Blitzkrieg, apparently, he’d met before. He took a moment to try to write over the new name on top of the moniker of “Old Gun” that he’d given the creature after they’d first met. It’d be a while before he got it perfect, but it was important, because James was pretty sure their names actually defined them in a worrying way. He wasn’t clear on how, exactly; if it was a literal imposition on reality, or if it was just a strong compulsion. But there was a worrying amount of evidence that they needed to be what they were.

Also the Chain Breaker had name dropped something that translated to, near as James could tell, “Necessary Evil”. Which was, in a word, concerning. Though she also came across as a little unstable, and while James wasn’t convinced it wasn’t all an act, it was hard to deny that she had tried to murder a lot of people to set them free.

People. People like the… he didn’t have any idea what to call them. Chanters, maybe? That was the fragment of an idea that he’d picked up from merging his mind with one of them, the concept for sharing emotion filtered through his human language. They were people, too, though so broken down and neglected that they might never actually have fulfilling lives. But they had eggs. They would have children, who would be raised by the Order; by people who would care, and love them, and try to understand them, and, James swore, never treat them like a bundle of experience points.

He was still experiencing the despair that his ‘conversation’ partner had been living inside of. Still was, probably. James, being unconscious, had missed the worst of the chanter’s screaming projection of emotion, but he had seen how brittle Alanna’s careful expression was back at the farm. Her smiling at him now had felt good, but he knew she was probably going to remember it for a long time. He certainly was.

It was hard to just shrug and shake off that much pain. At least for him. Humans did it all the time; there was no shortage of despair, poverty, hunger, pain, and exploitation in the world. And it was really easy to ignore it when it was far away and abstract. But James had known people personally who had been able to not even need to ignore it, because they just didn’t care. Or though that anyone suffering deserved it for some reason. And he didn’t think even those assholes would be able to hear the field of shelled refugees screaming for the first time in their brutal lives and not feel something.

The hot water was running out as James reached a decision. Maybe, maybe, it was a reckless choice to send the Order in force today. Maybe they should have stood back and done nothing, and played it safe. Maybe, in the future, it wouldn’t pay off, or they wouldn’t be strong enough, or something would go wrong.

But today, they’d saved people. Again. And he’d keep making the choice that let him do that, over and over and over, until he could take everyone in the world and hold them under his banner and give them the future they should have.

Aspirational, maybe. Stupid, possibly. But what was James supposed to do? Sit on all his power and strength and pretend he was better than everyone else, afraid to act in case he lost it all? That seemed like waste. Worse, that seemed like just being an asshole.

He was feeling a lot better, lingering despair or no, as he dried himself off and got dressed. James had made choices, and they’d paid off. Even if the reward was more responsibilities, what of it? He was planning on being responsible for quite a lot. Or at least, finding smarter people than him to be responsible for quite a lot. Apparently Karen had okayed a budget for hiring, and they were looking into getting startup groups for dungeontech engineering, teleportation shipping, and… something else he couldn’t remember without his skulljack to let him access the Order’s internal wiki at a moment’s notice.

So what was one more species that needed the Order’s help. That was what they did. They stole from the dungeons, and used it to help, and sometimes they stole people from the dungeon, and helped them too.

Despite being tempted by quick answers to statistics, and wanting to look up a list of Order casualties so James knew who had gotten hurt and how, he left his skulljack braid in a tangle on the nightstand as he left his room, and headed back out to the living room. Feeling refreshed, and cleaned off of the sweat, dirt, blood, and most of the smell of gunpowder from the day, he strode in to see how things had gone in the half hour he’d been standing under the showerhead.

Things were certainly calmer, now. Auberdeen was sulking under the table, Rufus and Ganesh were helping to stir whatever nuclear curry Anesh was making, and Alanna and Sarah were trying to look like they weren’t cuddling on the second couch. They weren’t trying very hard though.

“-only two days old or so.” Anesh was saying. “So it’s not that bad?”

“Oh.” Arrush said, nodding slowly. “So… the younger someone is when you kill them, the better?”

James stretched, feeling aches in his muscles like a comfortable fire as he leaned on the arm of the larger couche next to TQ’s head. “What’d I miss?”

The camraconda twisted around to look up at James, face only a few inches away as he balanced comfortably on his own coil. “They are arguing about Anesh’s copies.”

“Ah.”

Anesh, meanwhile, had processed what Arrush had said, and tried frantically to backtrack. “Alright, no. No. That’s not… what I meant.” He tried to think of a better reason. “It’s just… there’s backups of my experiences. So it’s not as much of a loss?”

Arrush nodded again, though the ratroach looked like he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to. “So killing someone who has fewer unique experiences is better.” He concluded slowly. “So if you were forced to kill someone, a human baby would be best?” The question came out cautiously, and James realized that he wasn’t the only one watching in horrified fascination as this entire thing blew up in Anesh’s face.

“No!” Anesh crossed his hands in an X. “That would be bad! Because… I don’t know! But don’t do that!”

“Yes, killing is bad.” Arrush agreed. “But less bad to kill a baby. Because they are younger, and aren’t as special. Like your copies. Right?”

“I regret this immensely. James, help!” Anesh demanded of his boyfriend. “Alanna and Sarah are just laughing at me!” They weren’t the only ones, either. Keeka was hiding behind the couch, but James could see the sleeker ratroach smothering his giggles into one of their couch pillows.

James grinned, only faltering for a second as TQ bumped into his arm and leaned into him. “I dunno, I’m learning a lot from this.”

“Please, bloody hell, stop learning from this.” Anesh offered a strained plea. “I just wanted to explain my duplicates!”

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“I thought we’d established that your duplicates were whole people who deserved life, just like everyone else.” Alanna threw out from underneath a curled up Sarah. “Like, they are just you. And I don’t really want you to die? I kinda like you.”

“Our bed would be awkward if you didn’t.” Anesh fired back, getting in a retort in way that was rare for him when it came to their relationship. “If we have to have this chat, I’d say that it’s different because I can consent to being… expendable… and a baby can’t? And consent matters.”

“Oh!” Arrush sighed, and James could see some of the strained muscles on the ratroach relax slightly. “Yes. Consent is good. I’ve been learning about that. That makes sense. Thank you.”

“If I tell you all that food is ready, can this stop?” Anesh begged.

A chorus of hungry voices and one eager woof met him, and he nodded calmly. Giving his creation one last check, and dismissing Rufus and Ganesh from their stirring job, Anesh started to turn the stack of bowls into portions of food that he handed over to James, and from there, to the rest of the room.

After setting a dish in front of TQ and flipping a spoon around to let the camraconda grab it in one of his mechanical arms, James looked past him to the other end of the couch with a frown. “Cam, do you want one? Actually not sure if you eat. Also not sure if you want to be called Cam, or Camille, or…”

The silent woman who was lurking in the corner of the room spoke with a voice that sounded more rote than anything else. “Eating is a requirement, but only for nutrition, not enjoyment.” Though her blank look at James faltered slightly and she looked down a tiny fraction. “It doesn’t matter what you call me anymore.”

“Cam it is then.” James refused to let this get him down. Not now. Not today. He passed the next bowl of curry to her through Arrush, who had stolen the spot in the middle of the couch. She looked at the food in front of her like her danger sense was triggering off it, but did tentatively pick up the slice of flat bread embedded in it, and carefully started nibbling. “Who’s next!” James asked declaratively. Or perhaps as a threat.

Dinner went by without too much conversation. Unless you counted the strained coughs and tortured squeaks as everyone tasted Anesh’s work and realized just how devoted to making his food spicy he was. Alanna and James ate with ravenous appetites, but still felt their tongues and lips starting to sting. Sarah poked at her smaller portion like she was afraid it was going to lunge at her, while the lightly humming motors of TQ’s extra arms cautiously let him sample the new meal.

Camille ate mechanically, her face unmoving. Next to her, Arrush held his bowl close, eschewing the table to keep it near his face and eating spoonfuls at a rapid pace as corrosive tears formed in the corners of his myriad eyes. His boyfriend behind the couch took one bite, gasped out a squeal of alarm, and then held the bowl up over the edge to be removed from his presence, which Arrush did eagerly. Keeka kept the naan though.

Auberdeen had to eat in the kitchen, on the tile, so she didn’t get curry into their carpet. James wasn’t sure if dogs could even experience spiciness, but she seemed to be loving it. Maybe it was the chicken.

“Anesh.” Sarah said as everyone else was halfway through their meals. “I love you.”

“Oh! I know this one!” TQ exclaimed as he scraped his fangs along the large spoon he was using, digital voice unimpeded. “A polite statement before you say something rude.”

Sarah ignored James leaning on the kitchen counter and laughing, and instead focused on Anesh. “But.” She added, and TQ bobbed in satisfaction to himself at having deduced another human mannerism. “This is a personal attack.”

“It’s just curry…”

Arrush came to Anesh’s rescue before Sarah could say anything. “I… like it.” The big ratroach said, multiple shoulders curled forward as he tried to relax on the couch. He’d taken off most of his armor, but hadn’t completely dropped his guard with the new person in the room.

“It hurts!” Keeka said, briefly taking his mouth off the straw that was plunged into a glass of milk James had passed him. “Why do you like it!”

“Oh. I can’t tell.” Arrush said sadly. “I…” he trailed off, and his boyfriend popped up from behind the couch to give him a reassuring hug. Arms enfolding him from behind while Keeka whispered something in his offset ear.

James looked back at Sarah and smiled slightly. “Yeah, I was wondering how bad this would be. I like it, but I’m sure we’re gonna suffer later.” He scraped a last spoonful of the thick gold liquid out of his bowl and finished his dinner. It still burned, but he was becoming numb to it. “Anesh, I also love you, but you’ve gotta remember you’re better at spice tolerance than all of us put together.” He glanced at the end of his couch again. “Except maybe Cam.”

“Hey, the magic isn’t that much.” Anesh protested, folding his arms and offering a weak defense.

“I don’t think this has a lot to do with the magic, and more to do with you using your mom’s secret recipe as a starting point instead of an aspirational goal.” James countered. “But also, it was very good, and thank you.” He sighed as he started collecting dishes, even this simple action feeling good to perform. He’d eaten without getting tired, and it was amazing how good it felt to not have that lingering ailment, even if he hadn’t noticed it that much to begin with.

“So…” Alanna asked after Sarah had exfiltrated from their shared seat and was helping James with dishes. “Are we gonna talk about this?” She pointed over at Camille.

Camille just looked at her, still sitting like she was in her armor. James considered that maybe, given how she’d talked about her sisters, she was in her armor all the time. Maybe literally. And wasn’t that just the most depressing thought. But she’d taken it off here without complaint, as far as he knew.

“I will talk about this.” TQ said, irising his camera lens eye at the outsider in the apartment.

It struck James as kind of amusing that TQ, who had never been here before, felt like a comfortable and familiar part of his home and his life when contrasted with the pale skinned and stony faced woman that none of them knew. The camraconda had gotten the perfect day to visit, really.

Sarah came out of the kitchen along with Anesh, drying off her hands on a dish towel. “I won’t! Auberdeen needs a walk, and that means pretending to be a chaperone!” Auberdeen gave a low and vibrant woof in response. “Because I don’t think animal control would check her student ID. Sadly!”

From behind the couch, Keeka leaned forward to whisper to Arrush, and the bigger ratroach tilted his triangular face toward Sarah. “Can we…?”

“Sure!” She exclaimed without consideration, twirling a magnetized stick in the air next to her thigh with tiny flicks of her hand. Auberdeen stared at the rotating wood with the kind of singular focus that only dogs and excitable children could really bring to the field of pieces of wood. “Anesh?”

“Sleeping. Like you should too. We’re gonna have a long day tomorrow.” Anesh said with a quiet voice. “We’re… this feels odd.” He admitted. “This whole night. We’re sitting here eating and chatting, and there’s people out there who need our help, and people who might try to kill us, and…” He shrugged helplessly.

James slipped behind his boyfriend, placing his hands on Anesh’s shoulders and giving him a firm rub through his shirt. “That’s every day.” James told him. “It’s just a little closer right now.”

“Exactly!”

James laughed briefly. “Okay, well, Nate was still right. We’re useless if we’re exhausted. We’ll do better work when we’re a little recharged, so go sleep, and we’ll talk, and tomorrow, we’ll dive back into everything.” He kissed Anesh’s neck, getting a twitch out of his partner as Anesh twisted away at the ticklish contact. “Go sleep, I’ll clean up later. Thanks for dinner!”

The living room quickly emptied, everyone else giving Anesh varying levels of thanks for the food, depending on their tolerance for feeling their insides burning. After the front door shut, with Arrush and Keeka following the others out into the night to try going on a simple walk, James turned his focus back to the quietest person in the room.

“Okay, Cam.” He said softly, settling in next to Alanna on the other side of the table from his guest. “I’ve got some questions.”

“I will answer what I can.” She said simply. “Interrogation won’t be required.”

James blinked. “I… uh… no, we don’t… do that?” He looked over at Alanna. “I mean, we kinda do that. But we’re not gonna fucking torture you.”

“Oh.” Camille said. And then, with a simple word that broke James’ heart, asked, “Why?”

TQ folded the thin mechanical arms back against his backpack, and coiled on the couch. “Torture is ineffective on humans, practically. Possibly also on many other species as well, we haven’t tested.”

“And won’t, either.” Alanna narrowed her eyes at TQ slightly. “Because…?

“Oh, also because it is wrong.” The camraconda’s digital voice probably sounded more sarcastic than he meant it.

James decided to derail that particular potential argument and push it off to a later date. “No torture, regardless!” He said. “Cam… holy shit, I don’t know what to even start with here.” He slumped back in his seat, staring at the poster on the wall over her head. She seemed… not calm, exactly. Not at ease. But uninvested, almost uncaring, of anything around her. It felt like the opposite of telling someone about magic being real; she knew, James just needed her to tell him. “No, wait. I do. What… what happened to your sister? The one Anesh and I met. The one who told you about us.”

“Oh.” Camille’s eyes shifted downward, and Alanna glanced at James with raised eyebrows as the woman showed a sliver of emotion. “She died.” She said.

They waited. And then, when no details were forthcoming, James asked. “How, though? Why? Was it on purpose, or just…” He spread his hands, not knowing how to ask if someone had been killed by sheer bad luck.

“Conflict with the Chain Breaker has been spilling out for some time now.” Camille said quietly. “She isn’t holding back anymore. But the true forms, the pillars, they have limits that we don’t. Violets and ochres are sent to her operational sites to drain her motivation, and her flexibility.”

James stared at her as the pieces bounced around in his brain, trying to click together. But it was Alanna who spoke up. “You mean you’re sent in to die.” Her voice was horrified. “Because she doesn’t actually believe she’s freeing you.”

“It’s unclear how much belief matters.” Camille replied, still looking at the table and not at them. “Or if it does. Some of the other azures have left notes.”

“Is there only ever one of each color at a time?” James asked.

“Yes. I had thought it was for practical reasons; that our father could only invest so many pieces of his power. But now, with what you said to me about my sister’s… remains… I am less sure.” Camille looked up. “I am not sure of anything.” Her voice cracked.

James felt an urge to reach out to her, but tempered it with cautious suspicion. “Why us?”

“Because the violet told me about you.” She said. “That you let her be heroic. We’re not supposed to be heroic. Our father disapproves. We are weapons, not saviors.”

TQ’s camera eye whirred as he narrowed it to a pinpoint staring at her. “Your father is the Last Line. But you do not mean father like humans mean father.” He stated. Camille turned slightly to look at him, a momentary confusion crossing her eyes as she looked back at James. Like she wasn’t sure what to do in this situation at all, the tiny emote speaking volumes from the otherwise blank woman. TQ continued. “Your sisters are all the same person. Replicated, or cloned, or grown. Did he ever act as a father should?”

Camille couldn’t ignore the direct question, though she still looked uncomfortable with the camraconda. “Yes. Of course. He trained us. Gave us strength. All the things that-“

“Oh, no.” Alanna’s breathy exclamation cut Camille off. “No, girl, that’s not…” She sagged back in her seat, looking with pity at Cam. “That’s… James, help me out here.”

“Lloyd - oh, we call your dad Lloyd - treated you like a weapon. Like you said. And Cam, you’ve gotta know, that’s not normal. That’s not okay. You’re enough of a person that you wanted to be free, you know something is wrong. Don’t you?” James trailed off quietly. “Don’t… don’t you?”

She stared at them, and then blinked abruptly before whipping her head to look out the balcony. “I do.” Her voice was choked. “Of course I do. But what was I supposed to do? Azures always run, and then we die, and then new azures are made.” Camille’s fists clenched against the couch cushions. “I had to try something. But he is still… our father.”

“And a monster.” TQ added simply.

“He keeps the world alive.” Camille said. “They all do. They’re required, or else…” she shuddered, real fear showing through.

James frowned as the words hit him. “Just or else? No specifics?” He asked, and got a shrug in response. “Ominous. I’m filing that under ‘probably bullshit’ for now. I somehow doubt the world needs a Blitzkrieg in it. Especially since… okay, actually, fill something in for me. Are there ever new pillars?”

“Yes.” Cam said with a nod. “Rarely. Replacements, my old sister’s records indicate. And I agree.” She spoke easier when it was a topic she had a firm and emotionless answer to.

Alanna gave James an agreeing nod. “Ah, because Blitzkrieg is new, right?”

“Yeah, they all are, technically. We haven’t heard one in a non-contemporary language. And the language seems to really matter, for some reason. So none of them can actually be that old.” James reasoned, and got no argument. “Look, this doesn’t matter too much, we can get into it later, and we’ll have so many more questions. Right now, there’s just two things that’re important that I want to ask.”

“Ask, then.” Camille invited.

“If I use that little flame from what’s left of your sister, does it link me to Lloyd in any way?” James asked. “Is that power conditional, or dangerous?”

Cam thought about it, before slowly shaking her head. “No…” She answered, though her eyes were narrowed in thought as she did. “Normally he retrieves them. For the next sister in that line. But not this one.”

“I don’t think he can, if we’re holding it.” Alanna mused. “That thing you said about messing with the Chain Breaker by dying to her? It’s probably that. Lloyd isn’t protecting shit by taking power away from people protecting shit. So he can’t just grab it from us without some weird abstract cost.” She shrugged. “Or at least, that’s my guess. You got any insider knowledge?” Alanna cocked an eyebrow at James.

“Why would I…?”

“Because you seem to know how novel magics work far too easily.” TQ told him. “It is actually impressive.” The camraconda tilted his body sideways, facing James at an angle as he talked.

James rolled his eyes. “I know so little, don’t pretend I’m some kind of oracle. But nah, I’m with Alanna on this. Probably.” He set the little pouch with the pale flame in it on the table, but didn’t open it. “I’ll keep that in mind though. Anyway, second question.” James tried to keep his face neutral as he asked. “Cam, what do you want?”

“I don’t understand.” She said instantly.

“You’re running. You found us, maybe by accident, maybe by some weird fate, but you found us. And you’re here, sitting in my apartment, without your armor, eating my boyfriend’s curry and pretending it’s not making you want to cry.” James pointedly did not mention that he himself was kind of a wuss for spicy food and had, in fact, been in immense pain while having dinner. “You’re here, so now, what do you want?”

“I…” Cam stopped, and just stared at him.

After a few seconds, Alanna leaned over and whispered to James. “I’ve never actually seen someone panic this thoroughly before. And that’s impressive because I’ve flirted with you and Anesh.”

James also frowned in concern. “Yeah, TQ, are you…” He glanced sideways at the camraconda, who just gave a weaving shake of his head back. “Okay. Cam, you okay?” He softly asked.

“No.” The answer was curt, to the point, and not what anyone wanted to hear.

“…do you want some time to think?”

“I would.” Camille said, pushing off the couch like she was angry at the concept of soft things. She eyed her armor, but ultimately turned her head away and moved to the patio door, sliding the screen open and stepping out into the night. She didn’t close it behind her, which James assumed was from a lived experience of being utterly impervious to mosquitos. “I will return when I am ready.” She said.

Alanna raised a hand with her index finger extended. “Ah, that’s not the way-“ she stopped talking as Cam placed a hand on the railing and vaulted off their balcony like the motion took no effort at all, dropping out of sight and landing with an audible whump on the barkdust below. “Okay sure.” Alanna stared at the open door, too tired to get up and close it. “Is it just me or is there a weird parallel in us adopting her along with the bugs?”

“I’m calling them chanters in my head.” James said, easily shifting to the new conversation. “Also man, if I could get out of awkward questions by dropping off a balcony, I’d have been doing that for my whole life.” He stood and went over to step out onto the balcony, looking down at their apartment’s parking lot. A familiar sight of cars, including Anesh’s old ride that they hadn’t really used much lately; it was one of those sights that made him feel like he was an outsider for a brief moment. Looking at what was normal for everyone else, and now just not a part of his life. Everyone here had lives, jobs or classes or family that they needed those cars to get to, and James was just teleporting to dungeon sites every day.

He shook it off. Camille was already out of sight, wherever she’d run off to, and they’d just have to hope that she was serious that she’d come back.

As James reentered the apartment, getting away from the night air that was just a bit too cool for him to be comfortable without it crossing the into cold, TQ spoke up. “I know I’m new here.” He stated. “But that was strange, yes?”

“Oh hell yes.” Alanna answered instantly. “Also, buddy?” She addressed James with a concerned look plastered on her face, “We cannot trust anything she said.”

“I don’t think she’s lying to us.” James answered.

Alanna shook her head. “No, she’s probably not. But she’s not sure about fucking anything, and I don’t want us writing up engagement strats for her dad based on stuff her dead predecessors might have written down, you know?” She sighed and leaned back, kicking her feet up on the table at a high angle as she did. “She’ll be back, because the lost lambs you collect like Pokémon always come back, but-“

“Okay that’s hardly fair. Also I thought we agreed Pokemon was creepy.”

“I could be a Pokemon.” TQ stated. “What would I evolve into? A studio rig?”

James stared at his friend. “I… want to let you take control of this conversation, but I also really want to ask what we should actually do about her.” He sighed. “She’s obviously strong, obviously a useful person to have around. But even if she just wants to sit in the basement with Keeka listening to my old Zebrahead albums and sleeping eighteen hours a day, I still think we should help her. I just don’t know if we should be preparing for anyone to come after her.” He frowned, and reached out to the table to grab the little bag he’d set there, opening it up and upending it to spill a pale ball of flame onto the surface, heatless fire continuing to ripple. “Her, or this.”

“Eat it.” TQ suggested. “Now.” The camraconda leaned forward, settling his head on the opposite side of the table, camera eye staring at the loot drop in a way James wasn’t sure how to interpret. “There are two outcomes.” He said simply. “Either it has a downside or it doesn’t, and if it does, the only way to know is to use it, and you would feel guilt and regret making someone else use it. Though I would eat it if you won’t. If the Line wants it back, he has not taken it, so eating it would likely change nothing. If he doesn’t, it doesn’t matter. If it hampers his ability to make new Camilles, good. If not, it doesn’t matter. The worst case is it makes an enemy out of someone who tried to hurt the Order of Endless Rooms already. Which is not a worst case. That is just how things feel all the time. Waiting earns nothing except less time to learn what it does.” TQ continued to stare at the flame. “Also it looks pretty.” He added. “Unrelated.”

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at once.” James raised his eyebrows.

Alanna cleared her throat. “Not that I’m against you getting more abs, but-“

“I do not have abs, don’t lie to people.”

“-but, I thought you didn’t want to be a demigod or anything. I know you’re taking the paladin thing seriously right now, but are you okay with this?”

James looked down at the ball of white flame, matching TQ and Alanna’s stares. He sighed deeply. “I do, though.” He muttered. Alanna glanced at him, and he spoke up. “I do want to be a demigod, or something like it. I just don’t want to be alone. I want to be a ball of magic, hard to kill, full of tricks, with a million perks for day to day life. And I want to be normal.” James gave a sheepish smile as he shrugged. “I’m a little bit ahead of the pack right now, but I expect everyone in the Order to catch up to me. And eventually everyone on Earth. I have no fucking idea how, don’t ask me questions like that. But it’s not the power that bothers me. It’s being the only one with it.”

“Are you going to eat this or not?” TQ asked him pointedly.

James reached out. His hand hovering over the strange new piece of magic. It was really tempting. What was it, exactly? Cam hadn’t said; she’d seemed reluctant to talk about the thing at all. Maybe she didn’t know, exactly. James, for his part, was curious how much of the copied sister’s powers were from this, and how much was from their armor, or maybe from the Last Line Of Defense directly. He was pretty sure if Lloyd was giving them bits of his own power, it wouldn’t look like a dungeon drop.

Which, mixed with what Cam had said, made this really tempting. Power, free and clear. A little extra. What would it contain? Some of their durability? The Chain Breaker had sliced the woman in half, but before that, she’d been walking off bullets like they were rain. One of their senses? The newest Camille had alluded to some kind of fortune sense, and the violet that James had known in Townton had said she had an assault sense. Both of those would be welcome, though this was probably something different. Maybe it would be something entirely unorthodox, something he had no idea about.

Either way, it would be a new addition to his arsenal. He doubted that Lloyd would give his “daughters” anything that wouldn’t make them more effective combatants.

So why was he hesitating?

“So…” Alanna prompted him, interrupting his quiet thoughts.

James just kept staring at the flame. Trying to figure out why it felt wrong. Why he couldn’t articulate that he didn’t want to, as TQ so eloquently put it, ‘eat that’. Because by all rights, he should, right? He was being better about accepting the tools that let him do his job, and his job was occasionally dangerous. But it was also important, to keep people alive and safe and healthy and happy. He was needed, in a way that was maybe a little overdramatic, but did genuinely require him to be prepared for a lot of stuff. Which meant taking opportunities like this. Like this loot drop, this fragment of dungeon power, left behind by one of the more dangerous people that the Order had seen that still counted as “probably human”.

Abruptly, James let his hand fall to the small cloth bag, which he swept over the ball of pale flame. Scooping up the piece of power, he pulled the drawstring, and carefully set it up on the shelf behind the couch.

“So, no then.” TQ commented, watching James curiously.

Alanna ran a hand through her hair, overly sharp fingernails carving apart a tangle she encountered in her bangs. “Do we get to know why?” She sounded a little annoyed at him.

“Camille.” James said softly.

“The one who jumped off our porch, or…?” Alanna sounded like she was gearing up to start an argument with her boyfriend. But then James shook his head at her, and she abruptly felt the sad determination that was rolling off him like a fog.

James covered it with a thin smile. “Her name was Camille.” He said. “And we have a place for her, downstairs.”

“James…” Alanna took a deep breath.

He met her eyes, confidence in his choice coming in strong now. “No.” He said simply. “It doesn’t matter that she might have been our enemy. It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t one of us. The whole point is that everyone deserves life, and we don’t know if the loot drops are a path to reviving people.” James nodded to himself. “We can’t just turn what’s left of her into a resource, just because we didn’t know her. Harvesting organs from enemy combatants isn’t okay, and neither is this.”

TQ hissed at him. “A slight hypocrisy.” He spoke as he got their attention. “You are accepting of using the orbs of dungeon species you kill.” Alanna hummed and tilted her head in agreement, looking to James for an explanation. TQ wasn’t done talking though. “Admittedly different. A camraconda orb wouldn’t have a person to bring back. Most greens, really. And a majority of yellows, though outliers exist. Oh, and killing the majority of the Sewer creations is acceptable. And… hm. No, I rescind my comment.” His hissing stopped and he lowered himself back down.

“I was expecting more pushback there, man.” Alanna sighed. “Come on, help me bully James into eating Cam’s soul or whatever.”

“Absolutely not. Bully him yourself.”

Alanna stretched her arms out. “Alright! So…!” And then she caught sight of the look James was giving her, and decided to stop treating it like a joke. Letting her cocky pose drop, she settled back in her seat. “Nah, you’re right. And I fucking know it.” Alanna admitted. “What’s right for us has to be right for everyone, or we’re screwing up somehow. Stupid ethics. Getting in the way of a good idea.”

“Oh, yeah, because when I think of my incredibly dangerous and sexy girlfriend, the first thing I think of is an utter contempt for ethics.” James rolled his eyes, before glancing at TQ. “Uh, that was…”

“I have been with the Order for enough time to recognize sarcasm. Don’t patronize me.” The camraconda let out a laughing burst of hisses.

Alanna rolled off her chair and back to her feet, reaching over to rustle James’ hair. “Alright, so, no sudden power up tonight. That’s cool.”

“Well, I did step on one of your orbs.” He admitted. “And now know who to bribe to build a skyscraper in Kolkata.”

“That doesn’t count and you know it.” Alanna broke off and stifled a yawn. “Also, Nate was fucking right. I’m exhausted and my everything hurts. I’m gonna sleep. Or maybe just harass Anesh. You two don’t stay up too late!”

James smiled and tried to snipe a kiss from her before she left, but Alanna dodged away laughing, making a game of their affection as she fled the room. “Ah, I’ll get her next time.” He muttered, before glancing at TQ, who was still watching him quietly. “Ah. What’s up?”

“You.” The camraconda said. “You are so casual with everything. How?”

“Does it help if I tell you I’m terrified of everything all the time?” James asked.

“Maybe.” The camraconda weaved back and forth, eventually sliding off the couch to unfold to his full length on the floor in a kind of stretch. “But I have lived in another world, where everything is always afraid. And we eat whatever we can to grow stronger, so we can be what everything is afraid of.”

James gnawed at his lip. He, and the Order in general, knew that Officium Mundi had a kind of ecosystem to it. But what TQ was saying suddenly sounded suspiciously like what James had heard from the ratroaches about the Akashic Sewer. “So you want me to be the biggest fish?” He asked.

“Someone has to be.”

“Eh.” James shrugged it off with a dismissal that was casual to hide his actual worries. “I think you already know that I don’t want to act like that. And you don’t either! Otherwise you would have just gone back, right?” He gave a tentative toothy smile to the camraconda. “I’ll be as strong as I need to be. But I’m not gonna compromise my ideals in preparation for something that may never happen. Not just because I’m worried about the future. Maybe if it’s life or death in the moment, I’ll make a choice I’ll hate. But right now? Right now, I’m full, and warm, and surrounded by friends, and feeling good, and the heartburn from Anesh’s murderous curry hasn’t kicked in yet. And I have the luxury to be the person I want to be.”

TQ started to say something, but the digital voice cut off as the camraconda’s fanged maw cracked open in a strained yawn. A move that made James a little concerned, since he’d never seen one of them yawn before, and also because normally the sounds camracondas vocalized didn’t interfere with their skulljack assisted voices. When TQ slammed his mouth closed, he looked up at James with a wide camera eye. “Tired.” He announced.

James was going to laugh and say something, but suddenly the yawn infected him, and he found himself covering his own gaping mouth as his need for sleep caught up. Feeling the best he’d been in weeks didn’t mean he could stay awake forever without feeling it.

“Yeah, I’m with ya. You wanna stay here tonight?” James asked, and got an enthusiastic nod from TQ’s tightly wound cable head. “Okay.” James let out a long breath. “Sleep, then… shit, I don’t even know.”

There was so much he needed to do tomorrow. Check in on Townton, on the chanters, on whatever Status Quo was doing. On new hiring attempts. On the injuries the Order had taken, on the roster of who was and wasn’t available for the next encounter. Because there would be a next fight. There always was, it seemed.

He’d need to offload his normal tasks onto someone else. Was it Monday now? James wasn’t sure and had left his phone in… somewhere. In the bathroom, probably. He didn’t even know if there was a delve happening.

For someone who made a whole life out of dungeon delving, James felt like he was spending a lot of his time out in normal Earth. Though maybe ‘normal’ was a flagrant lie.

He got TQ set up on the couch, watching the camraconda wrap himself in a blanket like a burrito by rolling in place leaving James with a big grin on his face as he headed to his own bed. And for all that he knew he was going to be overwhelmed, he was out almost the moment his head hit the pillow next to Anesh.

Nate had been right. A short break had been exactly what James needed. He was absolutely certain that, whatever tomorrow brought, he’d be able to face it a lot better after tonight.

He dropped into sleep so deep that he didn’t even notice it when TQ slipped in, still wrapped in a blanket, and laid himself out on the foot of the bed. Or when, getting back from their walk, Sarah snuck in as well to curl up with Alanna on the other side of the bed, Auberdeen trailing after her and making the foot of the bed sag further as the heavy dog scooted up against the camraconda currently pinning James’ feet down. Or when, feeling left out, Keeka inched his way up through the middle of the bed and between the two sleeping Aneshs.

Arrush didn’t actually add himself to the growing attempt to test the mattress’s weight limit. But he did sit with his back against the side of the bed, pulling a blanket Sarah passed him around his shoulders as he leaned his head on the wall by James’ pillow.

Subconsciously, James’ brain informed him that he was probably on fire or something. The night wasn’t that cold, and the body heat of that many people wasn’t something James’ poorly ventilated room was prepared to deal with, green orb effect or not. But he was too tired to do anything about it.

So he just kicked off some of the blankets, wrapped an arm around an Anesh in his sleep, and went back to dreaming about a better tomorrow. A tomorrow where he didn’t have to wake up in six hours to teleport down to Tennessee so he could go back to work.

He wouldn’t get that tomorrow right away. But maybe someday.