‘Terra looks to be having difficulties. I should be able to help her with the Maw and the mushrooms.’ My vision returns to normal. ‘And thou art the best, Sir Mouser. I thank thee.’

I stumble to my feet and move to the door of Byron’s insect RV.

As I open the door, I hear people shushing one another. Hundreds of nervous eyes gaze at me. Around a hundred of them have been furnished with firearms by Hoarse. Sergeant Saxe, Specialist Brooks, and King Zero have already disappeared.

My fingers try to spin Owl’s trinket, only to realize it was lost during Jessica’s attack. I glance at Owl and then wave him, Summer, and Noah to my side.

Hurrying back into the RV, I scribble four notes. I return and pass the first note to Summer.

Summer’s hand shivers as she squints to read the note. “Sorry,” she whispers. “My adrenaline is off the charts, and your handwriting is basically hieroglyphics.”

I roll my eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes; you can do that?”

‘I can now, and I am certain it shall soon become a common sight.’

As bangs echo in the distance, I motion for her to read it.

“R-right!” Clearing her throat, she reads my note aloud, “Our attackers have shown that they are prepared to take our lives, so we must prepare to do the same.”

Summer takes a deep breath and then continues, “Know that I will not condemn anyone that chooses to return to the safety of the Terrace now. I know that I am personally not prepared to do such a thing, but my position is different than thy own. There will be other ways to help in the future that do not bear the same moral burdens.”

“Fairy!” someone shouts. “We’re here, and our families are here. So I believe I speak for everyone when I say, we’re prepared.”

I nod and hand the second note to Summer. “Much of the camp’s main forces are trapped in the center of Sheep Meadow. We are going to assault our attackers from the back and free our own people. We will take the building that sits on the border of Frisbee Hill and Sheep Meadow and use it to drive our attackers away.” Crumbling the note, Summer adds, “For those that don’t know, the building Fairy is referring to is the brick bakery that the Cosmic Atlas set up shop inside. All awakened Pilgrims should be familiar with it.”

Raising the third note, I point at both Noah and Summer and then hand it to Summer. The note reads, “We cannot be certain who is and is not a member of the Pit’s Maw, and we cannot afford to trust anyone that has not demonstrated their loyalty. Therefore, Noah and thee shall be the impromptu leaders. -- Prithee, begin organizing the Pilgrims.”

Summer and Noah flash nervous expressions; they glance at me and nod.

“A-alright, any military veterans or skilled hunters make your way to the front!” Noah shouts.

Summer raises a Paradox Grenade. “And listen close while I explain how to use these things.”

The final note goes to Owl and reads, “It’s not part of thy commission, but if thou couldst take a handful of Pilgrims to rescue Nyle and Ethan, I would be in thy debt.”

Owl skims the note. “It’s certainly in your best interest to protect those two boys, Miss Nightingale. Their competitiveness has gained them both a reputation.” He smiles. “And as a repeat customer, I’m willing to help you for free. Besides, a few of our things are in that stage’s debris, aren’t they?”

I nod and motion for him to turn the note over. The back simply reads, “Apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it. Neither of us expected you to get hit by a truck.”

“This is the last time I’ll say it,” Summer shouts, raising a small white packet. “Open the packet, pour the powder into the hole at the top of the Paradox Grenade. Give it a shake, and wait for the powder to do its work. After thirty to sixty seconds, a sticker on the side of the grenade will turn red, and the grenade will be hot both figuratively and literally. At that point, it’s ready to go. It’ll be both scolding hot and delicate so just chuck it as soon as you can. Everyone got that?”

The Pilgrims nod.

“Then is everyone ready?” Noah asks.

The Pilgrims pull their weapons close.

Summer glances at me. “Fairy, you want to lead the way to start?”.

I nod, gesture for everyone to follow, and commence running toward the base of Frisbee Hill. ‘Earl, prepare nodes 2 and 3 for a heliotrope release.’ The colossus howls in the yonder. It’s difficult to see from Cherry Hill, yet I am confident the howl is closer than before. ‘...And as a last resort, prithee, prepare nodes 1, 5, and 6 for a possible hoary release.’

Earl Interface:

Acknowledged: Nodes 1, 2, and 3 will be available upon the Mistress’s order. Nodes 5 and 6 will require approximately… six minutes. However, this one predicts that the colossus will first attack the fleshies in the museum to the northeast before attempting to advance upon the Tower.

Reaching the edge of Frisbee Hill, I throw myself into the snow. ‘Aye. I thank thee, Earl.’

Earl’s wall vanishes as Summer, Noah, and dozens of others toss themselves onto the ground next to me. Hundreds of other Pilgrims lower themselves behind us.

The bangs of firearms echo overhead. A Pilgrim shuts their eyes, whispering a short Church in Light prayer. “If it is His will, I will bath in the Pale. If it is His will, I shall deliver it. His will shall be carried amidst a light heart, for the Pale absolves both the bather and the deliverer.”

We begin crawling uphill.

Peeking over a snowdrift, we see the blazing mushroom field on the yonder. Frisbee Hill itself lies abandoned, save for a few corpses.

“The Sheep Meadow and Frisbee Hill Pilgrims bolted not long after the fires were set,” Summer whispers, pointing toward some building poking above the trees. “Most have taken shelter in the apartment buildings to the west.”

She pauses when Noah points toward the Cosmic Atlas’s office. Outside is a white ‘RV’ with a row of barred windows that reads, “Correction -- New York City.”

“That’s a Rikers Island prison bus. What do you think they’re using that for?” Noah asks.

On a yellow piece of sticky paper, I scribble, “I do not know, but we should disable any ‘rides’ with a Paradox Grenade when possible.”

Noah nods. “Yeah, sure. Probably a good idea.” Taking the sticky paper, he passes it to the Pilgrims behind him.

I watch the trembling hands of the Pilgrims pass the note about and then write, “And prepare two grenades. I shall go ahead first and incapacitate some of their forces. Follow me when thou hearest the grenade burst.”

The pair glance at one another. Noah removes a Paradox Grenade, and Summer tears open a packet.

“No, Noah or I will go ahead,” Summer says, pouring the packet into a slot at the top of the grenade.

Shaking my head, I write, “I cannot use firearms with any competency. That means I need to be close. I believe I shall be fine, or I would not go.”

Before they may argue, I take the Paradox Grenades and creep ahead. Snow on my gloves sizzles on the grenade’s scolding exterior.

I stay low, crawling behind a stone fifty feet aft of the brick building’s side. [1]

Hearing bangs emanating from the building, I peek out. Near the building’s entrance, several Pit ruffians prime and fire spore canisters onto Sheep Meadow. Through a barred window, I can see more ruffians searching through the Cosmic Atlas’s papers. As for the ‘prison bus,’ it remains unmoving.

The Pit ruffians speak to one another while I watch the trees, observing the wind. ‘I only have one heliotrope cloud left. Should I save it o—’

A stray bullet strikes a canister. Yellow spores spew out, veiling the ruffians.

I stand and run toward the bus.

“Get an epoxy patch out of the bus!” a Pit ruffian yells.

My knees hit the snow.

“I’ll go!” a ruffian answer.

I wiggle beneath the bus.

A blue wall appears.

+1 Fortitude

7 Stat Points Remaining

Achieved Novice Tenebrous Sneak [Grade 10]

Congratulations!

You have earned the “Intermediate Tenebrous Sneak” skill.

Request Skill extension options at the Entity's convenience.

I push the wall away.

A ruffian shuffles by; he’s so close his unlaced shoestring raps the side of my helmet. He takes something stored on the side of the bus.

When he passes by to rejoin his companions, I crawl out and race to the corner of the building.

I hurl the Paradox grenade at the spore canisters. With a bang, it bursts, spraying a mist of Paradox-Arcadia over the ruffians.

“A-ah, wha—” a ruffian shouts.

The Paradox-Arcadia cools; green algae grows.

The ruffians try to remove their damp coats. “We’re under attack,” some scream. “I can’t bend my arms!” others yell.

My boots throw snow as I rush to the window.

Pit ruffians inside dash toward the building’s entrance.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“What happened!?”

“They’re tangled in algae!”

“Someone is near the bus!”

Pilgrims storm over the hilltop as I draw my cattail. Their bullets hum through the air.

“Back inside!” a ruffian yells, rushing to the window. “We’re being ambushed from the northeast!”

The window shatters as the ruffian shoots.

A young Pilgrim is struck; their body tumbles to a calm rest in the snow.

My cattail darts between the broken glass, throwing the ruffian to the floor. I toss the Paradox grenade inside. With a bang, algae strands grow and spread outside.

I recoil as a brick near my head bursts.

“Watch where you’re shooting, moron!” Summer yells at an elderly man.

He shakes his head, stuttering, “S-sorry! I’m really sorry! I didn’t see the Fairy!”

The Pilgrims run over. “Amazing, Fairy!” they say, running to steal the trapped ruffian’s weapons. “You trapped them all with two grenades.”

‘Nay…’ My eyes drift toward the young Pilgrim. His companions pat his cheek, trying to keep him from closing his eyes. I look away. ‘I was too slow.’

Summer marches the elderly man to my front. “What do you think, Fairy?” She furrows her brow, asking, “One of the attackers in disguise, maybe?”

The elderly man’s eyes widen.

I raise my hand while shaking my head. ‘The Pit’s Maw knows that my kiln is my weakness and he shot at my head.’

The elderly man exhales a sigh of relief. “I got shrapnel in my eye sockets when I was a youngster!” He passes his weapon to another man. “I-I’ll look for another way to help!”

Noah whistles and points toward trucks speeding toward us. “They’re comin’ in hot!”

The Pilgrims spread out, both inside and outside the building. I take a position at the back corner of the building.

A hail of bullets beat against the truck’s window. The truck veers, smashing into a tree.

One group of Pilgrims scoff.

“There’s thirty of us to every one of them!”

“Holy shit, we’re kicking their ass!”

“We should’ve done this from the start!”

Summer stomps. “Shut up! There’s more incoming!”

Several more trucks swerve onto Sheep Meadow. Racing toward us, they tear through the middle of the burning Sheep Meadow camp.

“We outnumber them, so, I don’t know, just shoot!” Noah shouts.

While the Pilgrims repel the charge, I observe the wilted foliage.

A truck with a blood-spattered window roars toward us.

“The driver’s down!” a man screams at a woman frozen in the truck’s path.

The man sprints over, shoving the woman out of the way. It rams into him before crashing into a rock. He rolls to a heavy stop. Soft wheezes slip from his lips as Pilgrims rush over to aid him.

“Watch your heads!” Summer yells.

Spore canisters stab into the snow.

The elderly man from before runs toward the canisters. His shoulder creaks as he pitches the canisters back with all the power he can muster.

As the snow itself turns yellow, the Pilgrims panic.

”This is biological warfare!”

“What’re we supposed to do against this!?”

“We need the purple gas!”

I keep watching the foliage.

A Pilgrim sprints by carrying boxes of bullets. “Idiots!” He drops the boxes in the center of a group of Pilgrims reloading firearms. “Just keep shooting!”

Mushrooms sprout on the arc suit. The cattail’s cords spread and nibble at them.

A bullet bores into the wall next to the elderly man. “People like you are all the same!” he screams, hurling more canisters.

The foliage bends inward. ‘Earl, node 3 and 8, free the heliotrope!’

Violet spews from the pair of nodes. A gust of wind catches the heliotrope. As it floats closer, the yellow and purple fog spiral together.

Heliotrope haze overtakes me. The world turns withdrawn; yet, it’s different than the two prior times. This time I have my mind about me.

A nebulous perception of everything that’s happening inside the heliotrope flutters about in my mind. It’s comparable to viewing a map with an added layer of cloudy depth to it.

The heliotrope cloud moves away; the chaotic world returns.

A bullet shatters the prison bus window. Withered mushrooms drop from the arc suit.

Peeking out, I see the heliotrope wafting across the battlefield. Fire spreads to mushroom husks. The Pit ruffians are falling back.

My shoulders loosen.‘Thank the lord.’

There’s a shrill howl to the north.

I peer off into the distance.

Near the Army’s museum, debris falls from the sky. Something explodes. A cloud of heliotrope mist rises skyward.

‘That must be the heliotrope canister Sergeant Saxe, and Specialist Brooks took. If they made it, there must not be ruffians between here and there.’

Glancing at the improving situation over Sheep Meadow, I nod and scribble a note on sticky paper.

“Fairy!” Summer shouts, running over to me. “We’re going to pursue and then move to Miss Galtry’s position! Are you ready?”

Tearing the sticky paper from its pad, I hand it to Summer, spin around, and then run. The sticky paper reads, “There is no need of me here anymore. I am going to search for Lincoln to the northeast. I will be more useful there since I am not proficient with firearms. Prithee, inform Galtry.”

“H-hey!” Summer screams as a snowball smacks into the back of my helmet. “Have some damn sense! That’s around where the spider is!”

I continue running, passing by Cherry Hill and the Terrace. Signs of conflict are prevalent, yet I pass only Pilgrims fleeing toward the Terrace.

“Ayameko, are-are you sure you’re alright?” I overhear a gentle voice ask. “Isn’t that red stuff stuck to you?”

Peeking around the side of a glass tree, I discover the blue-eyed Scarlett helping Ayameko to her feet.

“Yeah, but I mean, it doesn’t hurt or anything...” She rubs her hip. “Walking just feels a little weird.”

Scarlett adjusts a bag on her back. “Well... if you say you’re alright, I really need to get going.”

“I’m not really sure what happened, but I’m fine now.” Ayameko lifts her legs, mimicking a walk. She sighs. “But what about you, Scarlett? Are you going to find Preacher Wainwright?”

“Y-yeah.” Scarlett chuckles and brushes a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “Uhmm, well hey... thanks for being nice to me, Ayameko.”

“Uhm, you don’t have to thank me for that?”

Scarlett smiles. “You’re a good person. That old book you said you liked, you can have it.” With a determined look on her face, she runs in the direction opposite the fleeing crowd. “Take good care of yourself!”

Ayameko watches Scarlett disappear into the white eventide. [2]

I push further toward where I last saw Lincoln, stopping to help any Pilgrims along the way.

While bandaging a weeping woman’s shoulder, I notice a puff of white smoke reflecting the fading light. I glance over to find it coming from behind an oak tree.

The woman stands. “I’m really sorry to keep you, Fairy! T-thank you!” she says, hurrying toward the Tower.

As I approach the source of the white smoke, a chaotic group of Pilgrims race by me, carrying a bloody woman. The woman’s blood-soaked eyes watch me as she passes. Her fingers twitch as she tries to wave at me.

I wave at her and then finish moving around the outside of the oak tree.

Sitting underneath the tree is Lincoln in a ripped and bloodied suit with a cigarette in his mouth. In his hand, he clutches a long needle joined to a tube of elixir.

With shaking hands, he bites his cigarette as he pushes the needle into his breast. His veins glow blue, and his hand steadies. Yanking the needle from his chest, he takes a breath.

Without glancing over, Lincoln asks, “Seen Pierce?”

Men and women in military attire race out of the forest as I approach. “Aye, he’s at Sheep Meadow with Galtry. If all goes well, they should be fine momentarily.”

Lincoln reads my message. He removes a handkerchief and cleans water and blood from his arm’s cogwheels. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be leading the charge?”

“Things have already been set in motion, and regardless, Galtry is more competent than I. She likely had several ways out of her predicament, even without my intervention.”

He nods. “Maybe.” A puff of smoke flows from his nostrils. “Or maybe not.”

Shrieks echo from a few hundred feet away.

“Oh yeah, you seem to be running in the wrong direction,” Lincoln says, knocking the ash from his cigarette. “Are you planning to feed yourself to the spider? Maybe give it a stomachache?”

Three clickers surround Lincoln.

“Y’know, they won’t let Gary talk to me anymore. The Administrator is too worried he might be a bad influence on my Associate.” He tosses his cigarette in the snow with a sigh. “But anyway, what’s the word, totally not Gary?” he asks.

Lincoln listens as the clickers deliver a rhythmic chorus of clicks.

“Good news and bad news. The Pit’s Maw is evacuating, but the Consortium and Army are pulling their forces off the spider.”

“What? Why?” I write.

“The things over forty feet in stature, double the size it was the last time anyone saw it. Thanks to that, our prepared contingency plans that wouldn’t wipe out a buttload of civilians have gone out the window. So, we’re just going to have to let it wander wherever it wants and reassess the situation in the meantime.”

I shake my head, writing, “Nay, it will turn Central Park into its new home!”

He nods and stands. “Maybe, but you’ll just have to learn, adapt, and do your best to keep it from happening again.” His arm’s cogs spin as he opens and closes his hand. “Both people and societies are built on bittersweet hindsight.”

“After all that has transpired, all the death, what shall I tell the Pilgrims!?”

“Didn’t you already tell them to be ready for this sort of thing?” Motioning for me to follow, he begins to lightly run. “But if you want to simplify it for them further, you could tell them, ‘it’s part of dropping off the top of the food chain.’”

As best as I can while running, I scribble, “Where are we going?”

“General Riddick and Consortium management want to do an impromptu conference at the Boathouse. They probably want to arrange a more official meeting someplace else tomorrow.”

Stopping, I shake my head. “Nay! Such frivolous matters are not important to me right now.”

Lincoln stops, reads my message, and sighs. “Frivolous? Keeping in contact is sort of important.”

I motion toward the Pilgrim and Cedar Hill camps. “Aye, but I would rather help the struggling Pilgrims than attend a chit-chat at this moment,” I write.

From behind, I hear Rabbit’s cheer, “Yay, Miss Nightingale! You did it, apparently!”

Looking back, I see Owl, Rabbit, Ethan, and Nyle running toward me. Owl and Rabbit’s complexions are as usual, but Ethan and Nyle are whiter than the snow.

Owl steps to my front and holds out a soot-covered sword. “I found this beneath some ash. It should clean up nicely, but if not bring it back to us.”

I take it in my hand, rubbing some of the soot from its blade. Nodding, I slide it into its sheath, and then write, “I thank thee. It’s irreplaceable to me.”

He chuckles.

“Hey, you two alright?” Lincoln asks, pointing at Ethan and Nyle. “The pair of you look like corpses.”

Ethan and Nyle stare at Lincoln with distant looks.

“W-w-we really did die, y’know!?” Ethan says with a half-opened mouth. “At least I think we did,”

Nyle runs his hand across his throat. “They… they made me eat a jellyfish through a collapsed windpipe.”

“They said that those types of jellyfish were really valuable,” Ethan adds.

“So to pay them back, we’d have to fight them again the next time we ran into each other.”

Ethan nods. “Then they laughed.”

Nyle nods.

Rabbit’s gasps. She removes two cards, giving them to Ethan and Nyle. “I’ve been thinking that this might be a good time to start dabbling in trauma therapy, so come see me!”

Before either of them may respond, a hazy black mouser slips between his legs. ‘Sir Mouser!’

Sir Mouser leaps into my arms.

{You left. What if I was in danger?} I hear Terra ask.

{Sir Mouser was with thee.} I pinch Sir Mouser’s ear. {Thou weret never in any danger.}

Sir Mouser nods as Terra, several dozen of her men, and Pierce walk down a small hill while struggling for air.

“Did you run all the way?” Lincoln asks.

“F-forget that,” Terra says, taking one more big breath of air. “Why is everyone just standing around? I ran because I thought we were going to do something about the spider.”

“No, pretty much the opposite,” Pierce says. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you heard that the Fairy came this way, Miss Galtry.”

Terra frowns. “They’re pulling back then. That’s actually more like what I expected them to do.”

“Miss Nightingale!” yet another voice shouts.

Panting for air, Kenneth runs over to me. “I-I didn’t expect to run into you.”

“Is something wrong? Who are you looking for?” Terra asks him.

Kenneth takes a deep breath. “Yes, that girl, Scarlett, the same girl from the last time this giant spider showed up. She came into the Tower’s Arcade and told us Miss Nightingale required more Paradox Grenades. Mrs. Jäger gave her several, but then we overheard someone say she was heading this way, which was the opposite direction of where we thought Miss Nightingale was.” He rubs the back of his head with a sigh. “...But I guess you are over here? I thought you were at Sheep Meadow.”

Terra and I glance at one another.

There’s a high-pitched howl ahead of us.

The evening light dims as Scarlett’s figure sprints from a thicket. She carries a Paradox grenade in one hand and waves a bright red flare in the air with the other.

A spidery leg dripping in green algae reaches over the treetops.