The air around Adrian thickened until it felt as if it was the consistency of syrup. It caressed his shoulders, dripping down his skin completely unwilling to listen to his commands like it had in the past. It took every ounce of strength Adrian could muster just to stare at the scar that had torn through the night sky like a knife through a starry blanket. It was not until a molten-hot blow came crashing into his abdomen that Adrian was able to finally look away, just in time to catch the whistling blow of Mavier’s scimitar on the guard of his knife. Still, try as he might, Adrian couldn’t escape the dragging pressure clogging the air. What was once graceful acrobatics, swift knife blows, and sneering taunts was now pressured silence and slowed footwork. It was as if the very air itself was rebelling against his control, crying out towards whatever… thing was tearing the sky.

Off in the distance, a burst of holy magic, desperately small in the face of the unknown horrors, flared into the sky. Adrian immediately recognized the feel of it. Elena. He reflexively scowled. Well, doesn’t look like I’ll be getting backup anytime soon. Seems like she has her own problems to deal with. Adrian flinched as the feel of icy cold metal sliding into his leg threw off his concentration and he jumped backwards with all his might, sparing a glance to check the damage.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

In front of Adrian, Mavier grunted in exertion as he swiftly pressed his advantage, directing flurries of blows towards the now-limping hero as they weaved throughout the road and through houses. It was quickly becoming apparent that Adrian was under some sort of pressure, one much greater than the screaming headache roaring through his own brain. Whereas Adrian’s movements were oddly stilted and stifled, his own felt relatively normal. Well, at least it wasn’t too terribly surprising. Tim had mentioned that the main body of the Rat King stepping into their reality could cause some strange side effects, but they should be mostly limited to the heroes. It was aware enough to distinguish between natives to this dimension, and nasty invasive species that could compete for resources. With that in mind, it was certainly intelligent enough to distinguish between allies and enemies, and Mavier’s ally Tim most certainly was on its good side.

He could only hope that the good side would be as Tim had promised and include his people as well.

Ah well. He thought to himself as his scimitar sliced another chunk of flesh from Adrian. I suppose at this point there isn’t much I can do about it anyways.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The door at the top of the staircase splintered open with one strike of a gauntleted fist. Splinters cut through the air, some even embedding themselves in Tim’s cheek, but all he could do was stare wide-eyed at the torn canvas that was the sky, listening to Him. So much knowledge, so much information, roared through his head, and so many of his own knowledge poured out in return.

Steel boots thudded towards him, but Tim minded it not. Dribbles of liquid crept out of his ears and down his head, but Tim minded it not. Some sort of… yelling filled the room like the buzzing of bees, but Tim still gazed towards the unknowable. Steady streams of hot, viscous liquid worked its way from his eyes to drip down his face and meet its end on the ground, but Tim’s full, undivided attention stood fixed on what was flowing out of the crack in the sky.

Thousands… no, hundreds of thousands… no, millions of rats. Teeming and squirming, but their screeching and chittering was… muted? The rats tumbled out of the tear in a disorganized mess, but as Tim ignored a strangely cold sensation traveling through his skin and through his stomach, he realized what was truly happening.

The rats were clumping together. They were congealing in some sort of central mass, to create a gigantic flood of gnashing rodents, a beautifully vile mockery of the organized layout of Drassington. Tim blinked his eyes, the very action feeling like it took a century to complete, and ignored how his vision seemed to be sinking, for some odd reason. He just had to know what was next.

And Tim was quickly rewarded. The flood of rats clumped even closer together, each rat barely having enough room to move around. His vision sank even lower, so low he could barely see out of the window, but he did not care. It was all coming together. Part of the mass of rats split, forming what seemed to be a… mouth? Yes. A mouth with jaws made out of hundreds of thousands of still-living rats, their squirming giving the appendage an unnerving sense of constant movement. Like a lake of rippling water, or a honeycomb covered in bees. His vision settled, sinking to the ground no more, but the sinking was replaced by a muffled, female voice, a voice so chilled with cold rage, muffled by the warm liquid dripping out of his ears.

The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but he had no interest in looking in the direction of its owner. Instead, he focused his energy on the mass of rats, pushing back the vague feelings of sleepiness that were threatening to invade his mind and make him miss such an important event. The mouth of rats reared up, climbing high in the sky, high enough that it almost looked like they were attempting to tear down the moon. Yet, as soon as Tim began entertaining those notions, the mouth turned downwards, falling towards the area where Mavier was supposed to ambush Adrian. Bit by bit the mouth, and the seemingly endless mass of rats following it picked up speed, its living jaws opening so wide, as if to swallow the very earth itself. Within seconds the mouth escaped his view through the windows. The angry voice sounded out again, only more distant than it was before. Almost like it was someone speaking from the other side of a long pipe, or a tunnel. Tim tried to move his legs, to bring himself closer to the window so he might see what happened next, but…

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My legs won’t move.

Odd.

He looked around, finally noticing why the rats had gone out of sight so quickly. He was laying on the floor with his face towards the window.

I… I don’t remember laying down. Maybe I fell?

Still, even using all his remaining strength Tim found himself unable to even pull himself to a sitting position. Beside him, the strangely familiar voice sighed, almost as if in resignation, and a single strong, cold hand gripped his shoulders to place him against the wall.

How thoughtful.

Tim finally spared a glance towards his unexpected helper. She looked… familiar. Well, as familiar as one can look through the film of what he supposed must be blood that had draped itself over his eyes and most of his face. Another sigh came from the woman and Tim’s vision cleared slightly as she produced a handkerchief and roughly wiped away the warm gunk around his ears and eyes.

Tim’s eyebrows widened as he recognized his visitor.

“Oh hel-“ Tim started, but was interrupted by warm, irony fluid catching in his throat. He coughed, the very motion only serving to make himself feel even more exhausted, and continued.

“Hello Elena,” Tim said mildly.

Crouching at his side, her sword covered in swathes of blood, Elena looked back at Tim with cool rage simmering in her eyes, rage mixed with a touch of her own exhaustion and outrage at Tim’s serene attitude.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Mavier’s head shuddered as, through the corner of his eyes, what looked to be rats began to pour out of the fissure in the sky. Like black snow they fell, increasing in rate and number as they landed out of his sight on the other side of town.

Mavier continued to pressure Adrian even as he watched the rats in his peripheral vision. This truly was turning into an odd night.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Adrian heaved his body out of the way of yet another strike of Mavier’s scimitar, using the momentum of his dodge to crouch on the ground with knifes held at ready, and then launched himself towards the demon. Mavier’s fist soared downwards to stop him, but Adrian pressed himself so low to the ground he felt the cobblestones brush his belly and the strike missed him, allowing for the hero to continue forwards with little resistance. Mavier’s boots entered Adrian’s vision, and he surged from his placement on the ground, knives pointed forwards to leave deep gashes on Mavier’s skin. The guttering and protesting fire covering Mavier’s skin licked the knives, but ultimately gave in, droplets of blood showering Adrian’s head as he forced his creaking bones to contort out of the way of Mavier’s counterattack. A ghost of a smile peered out of Adrian’s face as the curses of the demon hero faded in and out with the scrabbling of rats in the gutters nearby. A cold wind whispered across Adrian’s neck, but he paid it no mind, choosing instead to lung towards Mavier yet again.

At least, until the first rat fell onto his back. Adrian cursed at tried to shake it off, but more and more fell from the sky for each one he threw. Mavier leaped backwards with fear and surprise in his eyes, causing Adrian to look towards the sky.

Only, he couldn’t see it for all the rats. Countless numbers of rats. Adrian tried to emulate Mavier and jump out of the way, but then the rats landed.

The weakly sputtering winds surrounding his body protested at first, but the rats gnawed them into compliance.

His legs tensed to jump, but rats surged towards them and dived through his flesh. Adrian screamed as he felt unimaginable amounts of pain for the first time that he could remember. His leg muscles contracted, pushing him upwards, but like a toad in honey he was pulled down. The screams abruptly cut off as several rats forced themselves through his mouth and down his throat, nipping away at bits of his esophagus as they traveled down towards his stomach. The rats chewing the other way up through his legs hit bone, and continued to crunch their way through the bones and his spasming muscles. Multitudes of rats traveled upwards, tearing through the skin on his thighs and around his stomach until eventually, the rats going down his body and the rats going up his body met in his stomach, their little heads slamming into each other, causing them to worm around in confusion until they reoriented outwards, forcing their way through his stomach lining to tear apart the organs nearby.

All throughout this Adrian was aware, the sheer agony causing his brain to beg to fall into unconsciousness, but his strengthened body and his magic not allowing himself to.

Suddenly, just as the rats began to poke open his eyeballs with their claws to drink the juices inside, the familiar cold of steel pierced through Adrian’s head, and it all faded mercifully to black.

And thus passed Adrian Welment.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tim sleepily stared at Elena from where he leaned against the wall.

“So,” He muttered, causing Elena to flinch, “what now?”

Her blade slammed into the wall beside Tim, but he was much too tired to flinch as she had.

“Call. It. Off.” Elena growled.

Tim snorted with exhausted laughter. “I think it’s a bit late for that.” Ahhh. He just wished Elena would leave so he could get some sleep. Hell, at this rate he might end up taking a little power nap right in front of her, with how little strength he had left.

“Alright,” She answered with rage lacing her voice. She removed her blade from the wall and soon a slight pricking sensation filled Tim’s right hand. “Talk, or I move to the other hand.”

Her voice was slightly blurry, like she was speaking to him underwater. He looked towards his right hand, not even having the energy to raise his eyebrows as he beheld the sword piercing deeply into his right hand.

“Ah.” Tim muttered to himself. “That makes sense. Guess I’ll see them again soon.” He turned his eyes back towards the window, ignoring the hisses of rage from the hero.

It simply didn’t matter anymore now that he knew why he was so tired. And heavens, was he tired.

The shrieks of rats filled his ears, reducing Elena’s repeated questions to a dull buzz in the background. He hoped that the Rat King would honor the fact that Tim was the one that freed a part of him from cruel imprisonment. That it wouldn’t go after his allies. Philbert said it wouldn’t. But, Tim realized, the lump in his pocket was there no more. Besides Elena, he was well and truly alone. He felt distantly sad at that; he quite missed the little rat.

Then Elena’s questions abruptly stopped, and they both gazed out the window as several beams of magnificent light rose out of the government offices like otherworldly pillars.

Tim laughed sadly, softly, not even bothering to keep the lead weights that were his eyelids open anymore.

“Elena,” he said quietly, his own voice sounding distant even to himself, “just… just promise me. That this lot will be better. Please.”

A muffled voice answered him, but he couldn’t tell what she said.

And thus passed Tim Gilrachsson.