Life was nothing more than a series of choices. Each stacked atop the last and directed the next, shaping the person one became. All of his had led to this moment—barrelling toward the Giant Hunter, Razor’s point aimed at his heart—and changed him in imperceptible ways.

Knowing her had changed him.

He’d allowed himself to be more hopeful, to join in her optimism and cast off the gloom of past mistakes. Running didn’t cross his mind. It wasn’t even an option.

He couldn’t let her die.

With a roar, he entered Levi’s range, swinging with all his might. Their blades met with a colossal clang! Levi’s was shorter than Razor, but double-edged, so when he turned it around and slashed, Jack had to twist in the air. His stomach lurched as the sword whistled past his face. A few beard hairs fluttered to the ground, and he flipped into a back handspring.

Panting, he glared into Levi’s cold eyes. Acid squirted up his throat. A dark, freezing aura seemed to emanate from the Hunter, inflaming the heat spreading through Jack’s limbs. He snarled.

“Jack!” Salia whimpered behind him. “You—”

“Leave this to me,” he said, glancing back and smirking. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her previously downcast expression turned up, though her lips remained tight.

“You’d protect it?” Levi’s features twisted in confusion.

“Damn right,” said Jack, levelling his weapon on him. “Keep your grubby hands away from my girlfriend, you cunt.”

Salia gasped behind him.

“Your girlfriend?” asked Levi, jaw plummeting. “As in your lover? A human and a Giant… just how messed up is that head of yours?”

“Not as much as yours, I bet.”

“Then I can’t convince you to stand aside?”

“Don’t dick around.” He strode forward, his vision tunnelling. “I won’t back down any more than you will.”

“In that case…” With a grim expression, Levi charged.

“Let’s finish this!”

They clashed in a shower of sparks.

***

Lydia watched as they collided, paying keen attention to Levi’s movements. He could change direction at the drop of a hat. Plus, as close to Jack as he was, she doubted she could hit him without affecting Jack. She wasn’t that good at fine control.

She’d allowed them their preamble, but next came the death-match, and she had no interest in being a mere spectator. Her objective fought before her. Neither appeared to have the advantage, but Levi was tricky, and she didn’t need to take risks. She wasn’t about to let her efforts be wasted because Jack had decided time-travellers needed wives.

Ignoring the pang in her midsection, she glanced at the Giant—Salia. Her gaze was locked on the furor ahead of them, her fists clenched to her chest.

The sound of crackling fire and crashing metal overwhelmed the battlefield, acrid smoke drifting up her nostrils. Their shadows played and flickered, almost creating a strobe effect.

There was still no opening. Her shoulders twitched. Though she did want to assist Jack, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to annihilate the Hunter. Every so often, a phantom claw would scratch her lower back, making her wince.

She owed him.

Jack and Levi remained locked together. Each movement was almost too quick to follow, their swords blurring in flurries. When one disengaged, the other pressed, seeking cracks in each other's defences.

Worry chewed her gut. She wracked her brain for a plan, any method she could use to help. It was possible to enhance his movements. But without communication, that would do more harm than good.

Her spine tingled.

She whipped around in time to catch the arrow, right before it impaled her skull. Looking down, she noted the figure of Cunham tens of feet away, glowing in the firelight, reaching into the quiver on his back.

“Curse you!” he yelled, loosing another bolt.

This time, she dived aside, then swooped toward him. He gulped, his eyes widening to dinner plates, and scrambled for more ammunition.

His arms splayed wide as she gripped quintessence. With a sick smile, she alighted, striding toward him. This man was all bark, no bite, and she was delighted to finish what Levi had interrupted.

Manipulating his kinetic energy, she stopped a short distance away. She raised her hand. The palm faced Cunham, who quivered, helpless.

“When my wrist has rotated fully,” she said, “you will be dead.”

He mumbled, words failing to form. This wasn’t by accident—she allowed no movement from his tongue or lips.

Laughter swirled in her stomach, bubbling up her throat.

She broke his neck.

She took her time, savouring the sweet cracking, splintering noise as his head slowly rotated, like he was an owl, or the thing from The Exorcist. True to her word, he was dead by the time she turned her hand. He couldn’t even scream.

Giggling, she looked around, spotting Salia gaping at her with her nose wrinkled.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she said. “He had it coming.”

She switched her attention to Jack.

He was about to die.

***

Each impact rattled his arms, and his breaths were ragged. Levi was too fast. His blows chained together and flowed, like someone controlling him was mashing the exact right buttons, and he had no time for reprieve. No time to reorient or regroup.

He was losing.

Every time he struck, Levi batted it aside. Every advance was met by the shorter man ducking beneath his guard. Every parry felt like more ground lost.

Occasionally, whenever the Hunter found himself between Jack and Salia, he’d turn his back, tensing his legs to spring toward the Giant. Jack stabbed, slashed, and hacked, but never inflicted more than a scratch. He always managed to reposition, but at the rate he was doing damage, Levi would reach her.

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Why couldn’t he protect anything?

As Levi battered Razor with a bedlam of blows, he clenched his jaw, his chest tearing. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t win.

What the Hell could he do?

“His blood,” said Razor as Jack slipped an attack. “It’s so close, but so far.”

I’m trying, alright! Surging forward, he aimed to behead him. Levi ducked, correcting his posture, then thrust up at Jack’s chin.

“You can win.” A discordant calm flowed through him, and his movements became more fluid. “Simply understand who your true opponent is.”

With a panicked huff, he avoided the blade by a hair. I know. I’ve always known. The true enemy isn’t in front…

His eyes alight, Jack unleashed a combo of his own, chaining slashes into stabs into sweeps. Though his stance remained constant, his movements jerked. A note of hesitation crept into Levi’s steps as he dodged.

Nor beside or behind.

Eyeing a counterattack, Levi cleaved at Jack’s neck. He raised Razor and forced it away, before noting the gap in his guard.

The real enemy…

He’d been so focused on defending against Levi’s weapon, he’d naturally become fixated on his own. But Jack Of All Trades had never truly been a swordsman.

The name said it all.

Lies within!

Snapping his knee straight, he kicked Levi’s leg. The Hunter stumbled, and Jack sliced across his chest, forcing a hiss as he staggered back. Deep crimson stained his torn cloak.

“Good. If you want to win, you can’t worry about protecting. Not this time.”

He halted, and it was almost fatal. Levi, noticing his pause, closed the distance in a second and lashed out. Once again, all Jack could do was defend.

What are you—

“Pay attention! I’m not telling you to cast off your reason for fighting—simply trust them to protect themselves, and focus entirely on the battle in front of you.”

A dark thought invaded his mind. Are you sure this isn’t just—

“Don’t. I may be a sword with little in the way of a conscience, but do you truly think I’d do that to you?”

She had a point. Apart from the odd tantrum, she came when called, and hadn’t tried to take over his body once since the Oyster fiasco.

With a deep breath, he nodded, forgetting about Salia and Lydia. In fact, they were probably the reason there had been no more interruptions. He’d let Cunham go, after all.

Jack weaved away, dancing behind Levi. When he turned, Jack kicked dirt in his face.

Sputtering, Levi stumbled back, and Jack took advantage. In a flash, he was upon him, unleashing an assault that battered the man’s shoulders. Levi leaped away. Rising to his knees, he glowered at the approaching Jack.

Then he drew his arm back.

Panic flooded Jack’s throat as the Hunter readied to throw his sword. A move Jack knew all too well to be effective. Maybe blades wouldn’t hurt Giants, but his sleeve was probably full of tricks.

No. He couldn’t focus on that.

The moment his hand emptied, Levi would become defenceless, and Jack could end this once and for all.

Levi launched his weapon at Salia.

Jack launched himself at it, and knocked it from the sky.

“What are you doing?!”

With inhuman grace, Levi skipped up and plucked his sword from the air, plunging it into Jack's shoulder.

He grunted as he hit the grass. The thud jolted his spine, and pain pulsed from his wound. Razor had been right—he’d listened to his instinct, and tried to protect, and it would cost him everything. Hopefully Lydia would fulfil his last request.

Levi clicked his tongue, looming over him. “I missed.” He withdrew the blade, and Jack screamed, feeling the joint rip and pop. “It doesn’t matter; after this, I’ll take care of the Giant.”

Jack sneered, blood trickling out his lips. “And after that? After you’ve killed the big, bad monster, what then?”

“This is the last of my clan’s duties, and I have killed many monsters in my life.” He gazed up at the stars. “Afterwards, I shall live my days in peace.”

“Nah,” said Jack, chuckling sardonically, “I don’t think so, mate. That hatred? It becomes a part of you, this dark brown skid mark you can’t wash out. And it won’t stop. There’ll be another monster, then another, until eventually all that’s left is a pile of corpses and one last beast to slay.” He spat in Levi’s face. “You.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he replied. He raised his sword to plunge into Jack’s chest, glinting dangerously in the firelight.

Frustration ate at his insides. Was this really all he could do? One last speech before the end? He knew death was inevitable, eventually, but not here. Not now.

“You should have listened to me.”

I know. I’m sorry.

“So am I.”

Though it tasted bitter, he resigned himself, and stared up at the blade about to end his life.

Levi disappeared.

A gargantuan hand slapped him away, the sound of screaming growing ever quieter.

Goggling, Jack shrugged, then stood up.

A wall of force sent him flying.

“Do you ever get tired of being the butt-monkey?”

It beats being dead.

“It certainly does.” He sensed a note of relief in her tone.

As he skidded along the grass, a sharp burning sensation pulsed from his forearm.

“My apologies,” called Lydia. “I was aiming for him.”

Snapping to his feet, he glared at her. She floated over, leaving behind the broken body of Witchfinder Major Cunham, his head facing the wrong way.

He bit back his retort, lest he end up like him.

“You’re okay,” said Salia, sidling next to him and crouching. “I’m so glad.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “You swatted him.”

“Yep.”

Something pinched his gut. “But, your dad—”

“I told you, I’ll do anything for you.”

“How sickeningly sweet,” said Lydia, arriving.

Salia looked at her, beaming. “You must be Lydia! Jack told me all about you.”

“Hmm. You’re awfully chipper for somebody who was almost killed a few minutes ago.”

“Everyone’s safe.” She coughed into her fist. “Of course I’m happy. So, this means you’re going home, right?”

“Not yet,” said Jack. “Still no HARDON.”

“I’m sure it’s not for lack of trying,” said Lydia.

Salia snorted. “And here I thought we’d be saying goodbye.” She coughed again, longer this time, as though she was hacking up a hairball.

Jack grinned, relaxation flooding his muscles. He felt completely at ease. “‘Fraid you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lydia sucked her teeth.

“Right,” said Jack, “guess we gotta—Salia, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she said, then immediately proved she wasn’t by hunching over in an earth-shaking coughing fit. She curled up on her side, trembling.

Frantic, Jack rubbernecked for the cause, scanning her before his eyes came to rest on one of her fingers. A thin line scored it, purple spreading from this.

His intestines knotted.

“What happened?” asked Lydia with a concerned expression.

“Blade was poisoned and he nicked her,” said Jack, nudging Salia. “You’ve seen this before, right? How do I save you?”

“You don’t,” she muttered, blood and phlegm flecking her lips.

“No.” Rage filled his belly, threatening to burst it. “There has to be an antidote, there always is. There’s always a way out!”

“Not this time.” She smiled weakly, her eyes twinkling as she regarded him.

“Time means nothing to me. Lydia! Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “He flew too far for me to sense him.”

“Then heal her.”

The colour spread to her wrists, and her breathing became weaker. Sweat poured from every inch of skin.

“What?” said Lydia, stammering.

“Heal her!”

She looked away. “I can’t, I—”

He simmered. “Can’t, or won’t?!”

Sputtering, she gaped at him. His soul was snapping in two, so why the fuck wouldn’t she do something?

“I thought we were friends,” he said, digging his fingernails hard enough to bleed.

“Don’t… be like that,” said Salia. “Please.”

Fixated as he was on the life slowly draining from his love, he didn’t hear the signature grating as the HARDON materialised.

“Is this a bad time?” said Dr. Wen.

Salia spluttered, forcing her pained grimace into a smile. “Thank you, Jack. Because of you, I was able to trust again. I found my hope. As short as it was, I think these have been the best days of my life.”

“No.” He shook his head furiously. “Don’t talk like that.”

“The witch was right, you know.” She chuckled, and it degenerated to another cough. Then, she vomited blood. The stink was pungent, but he didn’t care.

Stroking her hand, which was now rough and lumpy, he said, “Don’t talk. Save your energy.”

Panting, she regained herself. “I lived out my days in happiness, even if there weren’t many of them.

“So please, don’t blame your friend. Don’t blame yourself. Because you climbed into my life, I escaped my cage. I saw such beautiful things. I experienced you. I’m content with that, so forget about me.” With a final movement of her giant finger, she poked his head. “You can finally go back… to the place you call home.”

Her hand flopped down, and she went limp, her eyes becoming dull even as her smile remained.

Moisture filled his eyes. A tumult of emotions swirled in his chest, burning rage at the cruelty of the universe giving way to clawing despair. He recalled the time they'd met, when she hoisted him up by the shirt. Their idyllic time atop the beanstalk. An adventure that had been meant to bring them happiness.

His very soul tore itself to confetti until he felt nothing. He was just empty.

“You moron.” He sobbed, clawing the dirt. “My home is more than just a place!”

“Jack?” called Dr. Wen, his tone uncertain. “I can only carry one, but rest assured, I’ll be back. Just wait two minutes for me, okay? That’s all I ask.”

He said nothing.