Zayne was a monster. Her hand hit the button for the elevator doors to close. When the doors did not immediately respond Zayne inadvertently caught the eye of the middle aged woman rushing to catch the lift in time. Did she see me hit the button? Panic bloomed in her chest at the thought of having to share what would be a very awkward elevator ride with the stranger. "Hold that door please." the lady huffed. Zayne froze. What to do? Hold the doors open? Could she be that kind of person? She didn't want to be right now. "Pay it forward" Something inside her growled. As if in answer to the unspoken demand the doors began to shut and Zayne had to suppress a smile as the closing shutters framed a face etched in, not anger, but disbelief. Disbelief that someone's selfishness could be so petty and small. The Something hummed with satisfaction. Zayne felt a spike of elation at having inflicted a fraction of the pain and frustration she felt today on another person. The feeling didn't last.

Doubt began to worm its way into her thoughts as the car descended, the Something already retreating into the darkness behind them leaving Zayne by herself. Traitor. That nameless person was not at fault, not responsible for her problems. The woman assuredly had her own. Unheard and unseen by the majority. That was every person in the majority though, no exceptions. Still, would it have been the end of the world to share air with another of the city's ghosts for a mere thirty seconds?

Yes.

Her stomach churned in revulsion at a self realization. The doors opened with a "ding" to the harshly lit lobby. She hurried past the reception desk and shouldered the glass pane doors open into the street.

By the time she was stomping down the dark, rain-soaked street, shame had completely overcome her. Not just for her weak moral fiber, but at the embarrassment that had so far been the entirety of August 17th, 2436. Another nightmarish day in a long sequence of nightmarish days. She sat down on the curb, uncaring of getting her dress or bottom wet, and pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes. Hiding from the harsh neon lights of the city. Watching her. Exposing her. Alone there on the curb, dejected and underwear wet as the indifferent city continued to ebb and flow around her, was when she broke.

Earlier that day she had awoken to the colors of dusk painting her walls. Shafts of sunlight streamed through her curtains, illuminating specks of dust contentedly swirling about the room. Zayne pulled back the curtains and opened the blinds. Her eyes were unaccustomed to daylight, being a night shift worker, so she had to squint to take in Sector Eleven. The sun was setting behind a blocky, utilitarian, skyline. It reflected off of the gigantic rectangular slab like buildings placed equidistant from one another, uniform in their design. A more chaotic array of buildings filled the cracks in-between. The tallest among them still dwarfed by the immense residence centers. From the center of the sector, the hulks of stones' long shadows still managed to darken Zayne's apartment all the way out in Sawdust. People talk about waking upon the wrong side of the bed, well Zayne sincerely wished she knew what the right side was for future reference. She tilted her head back with a tissue pinched around her nose. Her alarm wasn't set to go off for another half hour, but her body had preempted it with an impromptu nosebleed. She scanned the horizon for the cause. This was the third nosebleed in a week. Wonderful.

Usually her nose would respond negatively to quick changes in humidity and air pressure, and this past week the weather had been anything but consistent. There it is. Far to the west above Sector Ten a stormfront was rushing in. Yes, rushing. As if a titanic beast were blowing it toward the city with gusto. Zayne felt a spike of panic at the thought and checked the notifications on her pad, fearing she missed an Insurgent Call. A breath of relief escaped her lips when she saw no notifications, beyond those of her creditors and upcoming bills. No new notifications. While forcing down her sudden irrational worry, she also managed to stifle her sudden awareness of her own loneliness. It was hard to make friends at the age of twenty-six. Harder still when you were in Zayne's position. No time for self pity today, save that for the weekend, Zayne thought to herself. If the weather wanted to be strange it wasn't her problem.

She awkwardly stepped over a mound of clothes on the floor of her studio apartment and turned the wall mounted screen on with a vocal command. She had to consciously ignore the "gravel" in her voice. A side effect of having just woken up she always told herself. Zayne stumbled into the bathroom to pee. Still wiping the sleep from her eyes, and pants around her ankles, she nearly fell over leaning forward to turn the fan on. With a sigh she settled back onto the toilet and opened the drawer of the cabinet next to Herald. She grabbed a cigarette and a lighter and lit the former with the latter. She took a deep drag, savoring the satisfying burn filling her lungs. Zayne pursed her lips and exhaled the smoke into a thin stream towards the fan. As she mentally prepared herself for the day ahead of her, she half listened to the news on the screen in living space.

"Momentum on the Sector Twelve Expansion Project is continuing to gain speed and the Resilience Land and Energy Management Company have announced they are increasing the starting wage to two hundred and twenty-four credits per hour in an effort now to reach completion of the city expansion ahead of schedule. One insider tells RCS11 News that executives now expect the newest Sector of Resilience City to be ready for population efforts, February of next year. A far cry from the originally proposed late 2438 Green Light Date.", the female anchor said in the uniform cadence of every news host. Zayne took another drag. The anchor continued,

"Montgomery Fields, Director of Resource Acquisition for RLEM, and the chief planning officer for this expansion, attributes the accelerated timeline to the unprecedented reduction in Uber Insurgencies and General Uber Activity." Zayne puffed out another breath of smoke with a pop of her lips.

It was true of course. There hadn't been an Uber Threat, let alone a barrier breach, on this edge of the city for three months now. Rangers had been reporting a trend where the bulk of their numbers were moving far northward. But bulk did not mean all.

"We can attribute this increase in productivity to effective long term strategems by the Warden Logistics and Defense Commission.", a man's accented voice now said. Presumably Fields. He sounds like he's sweating.

"Under the effective leadership of Executor Rand these past five years, our defensive array has become so tight that the monsters are losing resolve. They no longer see the city as a realistic target. I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of the decade Resilience City is putting the finishing touches on a Sector Thirteen". Zayne audibly scoffed, which then turned into a coughing fit. She was clearing the phlegm from her throat in the sink when the woman anchor's voice returned.

"Not everyone is convinced however. Dr. Lent Hardigan, head of Uber behavioral studies at the Seventh Sector Military Academy disagrees, telling RCS11 that just because Uber Insurgencies have sharply decreased recently does not mean that we can assume their absence indefinite. 'We should properly ascertain the true reason for the reduction in events before jumping the gun. This could be anomalous, or part of a long term natural pattern we have not witnessed before, or it could be a red flag for a dramatic shift in behavior.' Dr. Hardigan said in a statement. She continued by stating, "As exceptional a Warden as Executor Rand is, her overall defense strategy does not vary that greatly from her predecessors. I feel it is irresponsible to field so many civilians beyond the barriers of established sectors at once, where they are still theoretically vulnerable. Doubling the rate of employment for this expansion program I find reckless.' The Warden office declined to offer comment at this tim-", Zayne drowned out the voices by turning on the shower, flushing the cigarette down the toilet. The warm water washed away the last threads of sleep tying her down. She eagerly drank in the warm mist flowing in and out of her nose, soothing her nosebleed and her parched throat from the cigarette.

Just as she was beginning to relax her alarm went off. She jumped in the tub, swearing. She almost fell over herself running from the bathroom to find her pad. She breathed out harshly as she pulled her pad from the covers and turned the shrieking bell off. She swore again, taking note of how much water she got onto the carpet via the cold dampness now surrounding her feet. She toweled herself off, brushed the knots out of her long dark hair and put it up in a clip. She then went to the closet for the new dress she bought specifically for today. For the job interview.

She stared at the young woman that stared back at her from the mirror. Could she still call herself a young woman? She had to. For her own sanity. Her life couldn't be over yet. Not before it started. She leaned forward examining her face with an overly critical eye. She couldn't help but be disappointed. The dress fit well, and it looked clean. Simple black with white lapels over also black leggings. But it didn't fit well. She wore the dress but she didn't feel like it belonged to her. Like a curious child trying on their mother's clothes. Zayne winced. Her eyes lingered on her jawline and broad shoulders. Her rough skin that, to her, make-up did not completely hide. She winced again. There was nothing for it. If she decided to ghost the interview now she was sure that she would feel worse about herself than if she had gone. She was so sure due to prior experience. She grabbed her raincoat, her keys, and put on her broad-rimmed hat and left the apartment in a rush before her mind could betray her.

As it turned out, the weather was her problem. It blew violently against her, rain pelting her like pebbles as she struggled up the street towards the transit station, holding her hat tight against her head. The sharp wind bit at her legs, water dripping into her boots. She hoped she could get to the tram before her feet were soaked through. Zayne didn't favor the idea of squelching across Resilience City all night. Her ears were buffeted by the roaring of wind and water. The smacking of water against the leather of her raincoat an accompanying chorus. A flash of white light streaked across her vision, and she had no time to prepare herself for the clap of thunder that followed. It almost brought Zayne to her knees. She felt her bones tremble as it moved through her. When Zayne recovered a moment later she half ran towards the tram stop shelter, a simple three sided construction with roof and bench inside. She collapsed on the bench, panting, feeling her face flush. The six lane road in front of her might as well have been a river. Every street in Resilience was built extra wide. For them to flood like this...It was a mildly shocking realization to her that this was the most intense storm she had ever personally experienced. The south east sectors of the city bordered the coast and Zayne knew those sectors to get hit by hurricanes occasionally, and she couldn't help but wonder how bad those must be if this storm did not qualify as one. "Third gale like this 'un this week.", the other occupant of the shelter said. Zayne jumped in her seat, still having not caught her breath.

"I ain't never no seen nothing like it", the older man said. He wore a flat cap and only had one eye. Why did you have to talk to me? I don't know what to say. Why can't you mind your business? Something, a monster, began to growl inside her. Zayne began to feel very anxious. Was it too late to go back home? The man had paused, clearly waiting for a response or any kind of acknowledgement that he had been heard. Another flash of lightning, and another clap of ungodly thunder. Zayne squeaked in alarm. The man smirked at this with a "heh" and Zayne felt her cheeks flushing again.

"No, nothing not no quite like it. Mark my words, it ain't natural", the man continued, seemingly to have expected her reluctance to engage. Zayne suddenly felt a tinge of sympathy for the stranger. Based on the accent he was probably native to the impoverished neighborhoods far out by the wall. They were a more...rural bunch. Some of the older among them had a shell-shocked glaze in their eyes. As this man did. But bad things happened to young women who engaged in conversation with strange men at public transit stations. Especially when...

At that moment the tram car pulled up, magnetically suspended above its track and Zayne was spared the awkward silence stretching any further. She waited for the several passengers to vacate the transport and for the older man to go first before getting up from the bench. Once the man vacated the tramcar's stairwell, she practically jumped from the shelter to the open door, keen to not get drenched again. The violent noise outside was subdued to a moderate din of water hitting hard against the roof of the carriage. She tried not to be self conscious as her soaked boots squeaked against the floor as she made her way down the warmly lit corridor to a vacant seat.

As the tram pulled away, Zayne's nerves began to swell thinking of the impending interview. The pay wasn't a huge increase, but this job, should she get it, would be life changing. No more kitchen grease. No more overheating in the work place. No more twelve hour days. No more harassment or abuse. No more Jackson. She could work a real job for the first time in her life. Surrounded by professionals, and air conditioning, and a clean workspace. A whole new group of people to present herself to. She might even make friends, she sometimes dared to consider. It wasn't a complicated job. Simple data entry and phone call yielding. A secretary but not really. More like a secretary assistant. A secretary's secretary. Rationally, there was no reason she shouldn't get the job, but humans were not rational people. You aren't a human though, Zayne. You are a monster. Zayne cursed herself for putting this job on a pedestal. She knew there would be other opportunities if she didn't get this one. But she was so tired and she was so desperate. Zayne tried to consciously avoid this train of thought and took out her pad and scrolled through her various feeds of interest.

Pre-C had a new episode out. Zayne was a big fan of the history focused talk-radio program. She enjoyed history in general, as it made her problems feel small in the "grand plan" so to speak. Her interview worries seemed feeble compared to Leonidas facing down the entirety of the Persian Empire. It also gave her perspective on how things had improved, even if maybe too much had stayed the same. So she hit play on the newest episode, about the origins of paper, and let her mind drift off to a place called Egypt, as her eyes watched the neon signs advertising suspicious and scandalous wares fly past the window beyond rivers of torrential rain pouring down the glass.

Zayne had almost missed her stop. Her mind's eye had transformed the world beyond the windows into a backdrop of wide green rivers, fields of the paper reed being worked by stiff backed workers, and white gold pyramids glittering on the horizon. The carriage's audio system announced the wide intersection of Peachtree and 106th, and it took a moment for Zayne to register the artificial voice over her personalized sound bubble. She jolted up with a start, and in her rush nearly fell over when the belt of her jacket got caught in-between the seats. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.", she said to herself out loud, extracting herself from the seat. She rushed to the door, head down to avoid the stares of the other passengers, and hopped off. Fortunately, the storm had spent itself. The last vestiges were now a lazy pitter patter on punctuated by larger amounts of run-off water pouring down in alleyways from buildings above. The entire city was singing with the sounds of flowing water. Zayne imagined this was what being in a rainforest might sound like. Any other day, Zayne might have reveled in it. She had always loved the rain. She loved the scent of it, and the strange energy in the air predicting a rainstorm. The sound of it falling was like a warm blanket to her psyche. It's uniformity overwhelmed the discordant notes of her own thoughts. She walked down the wide street, careful not to look straight up for too long.

Despite living in Resilience her entire life, she could still get struck by bouts of dizziness by looking up at the towering obelisk-like buildings that breached upward from the waves of slanted and ramshackle buildings. Their geometric perfection and scale evoked monuments to order lording over the sloppy mismatched humanity beneath them. Above them all was the Ziggurat. A tower so great in height and scale that it dwarfed the blocky residence centers ten times over. It peaked far above the horizon, more like a mountain than a structure, its upper half often obscured in clouds. Zayne had visited once on a school field trip. She would often recall an embarrassing memory of having to stop the tour for everyone else and have an aide escort her back down before they were halfway up, because she was too scared of the height. Even today she didn't like living in units more than twenty floors up.

Water from somewhere dripped onto her hat. She idly wondered if the run-off water hitting the ground just now was among the first precipitation to hit the rooftops when the stormfront hit. Her feet weren't too soaked, a pleasant surprise. The sun had now retired completely. The night's air was cool, but not cold, feeling nice on her face. Geysers of mist rose from the ground in pockets around her, seeping up from the subterranean levels underneath the street. The scattered city residents passing through them transformed into eerie shadows beneath their folds. Zayne unconsciously pulled her bag tighter against her and started to walk faster. She had an idea of where she was going but typed the address into her pad to follow anyway, just to be sure. She nearly bumped into a man holding a chair on the sidewalk. She ducked around him. He was arguing in what Zayne took to be Portuguese with a thick woman who was holding a table. They were moving furniture out of their ground level unit and onto the sidewalk. Had their home flooded?, Zayne thought to herself, tilting her head back to watch the now shouting couple as she kept walking. As she was getting closer to her destination, a vice seemed to have her heart in a grip. Every step forward that vice tightened, squeezing her chest. Her shoulders felt heavier, like gravity itself was willing her back. She didn't need to look up to feel nauseous. Zayne was there already, stomach doing somersaults. She forced herself to think about something else and settled on these unusual storms.

Her social feeds were literally flooded with people posting pictures of their kitchen islands now surrounded by water, or videos of debris cracking the glass of their apartment windows some thirty stories up, or slow motion videos of lightning spreading across the sky. Wait, that was strange. In two different videos Zayne could swear she could make out a dark shape above the clouds, the same shape. She opened both comment chains on both videos and compared the two. She was not the only one to make the connection. Some posters sardonically suggested a new kaiju here to kill us all, others saying it's just a dense cloud, and others saying it was the silhouette of a secret government weather machine. In the comments there was a link to a third video, which she also watched. As the lightning spread across the screen in three branches in slow motion, in the top right Zayne made out that same dark form twisting. No, not a cloud. "Destination reached" said her pad, and Zayne was back in the real world.

"Can I help you?", the young woman said without looking up. The front office of Seedlings Inc was about exactly what one might imagine. Bright white lights inlaid in the ceiling, five plush chairs arranged around a coffee table, over top a worn grey carpet. It was the kind of room so quiet, you felt obligated to whisper. You could even hear the hum of the lights above. The space struck a perfect balance between modernity and decay. Zayne stood awkwardly, not knowing if she should sit or approach the desk where a young woman was tapping away silently on a pad. Zayne approached the counter with trepidation. "Uh….yes." she tried to compose herself.

"I have an, um, interview with a Mr. Bertram for the administrative assistant position for 7:15." The clerk's eyes darted up, taking Zayne in.

"Name please?"

"Zayne Gladstone"

The clerk pulled up something on her pad, then looked at Zayne again, then back at the pad, Then looked at Zayne a third time; brow furrowed "ID please?"

Zayne pulled out her ID and handed it to the woman, who took it with her left hand. Her right sleeve was tied up in a tasteful knot where her right arm should have been. The woman, Hannah her name tag said, scrutinized the ID and Zayne bit into her own lip as her nerve wavered. Hannah looked back up and Zayne saw what she thought was visible pity flash across the girl's green eyes. Zayne's nervousness turned into irritation. "Please take a seat over there and fill out this legal paperwork", Hannah said, in a tone much softer and more considerate now. Zayne's irritation peaked into anger, but she kept herself together. "I will call you up when Mr. Bertram is ready to see you."

Zayne forced a smile, and a curt "Thank you" before settling into one of the plush chairs, and began filling out the papers.

It wasn't until Zayne had finished with them that she actively took notice of the two other occupants sitting with her. One was a young woman with short blond hair, a white blouse and long legs. Her left leg was crossed over the other and she nursed a cup of coffee with an air of confidence that didn't fit the setting. Her papers lied flat across her lap. The other occupant was a young man with a flat-top cut who came wearing a full, three piece suit. He was hunched over, tapping his right foot furiously against the floor of the 21st floor office. He was wearing sneakers. His papers were gripped into a tube shape between two hands. My competition, Zayne thought. Without staring, Zayne tried to size them up. She was much more worried about the former applicant than the latter. The blonde woman caught Zayne's eye and flashed a smile dripping with condescension. Zayne looked down quickly and made a show of double checking her paperwork. She held her own papers rigidly straight in front her, elbows on her thighs.

Despite running a company that booked educational entertainment events for public schools and community events, Mr. Bertram did not seem the child friendly type as he bustled into the office from the same door Zayne had entered from. Stern of face and red cheeked, he speared his umbrella into the bin like he was harpooning a whale. He went over to the front desk and spoke hushedly with the receptionist, presumably processing his schedule for the rest of the day. Zayne made out the receptionist gesture towards the three of them in the waiting room, and the squat man nodded. He twisted, taking in the applicants for the first time. His eyes lingered on Zayne's face and she could make out the slightest curling of his upper lip before he turned away and strode beyond the desk, vanishing around the corner. Zayne's heart sank. She began to have the feeling the rest of this meeting had been telegraphed for her. She wouldn't break yet though. She could not.

After ten minutes, Hannah's pad chimed, and Zayne watched her eyes lingered on the pad. Hannah looked up and flashed Zayne a quick look before calling out the name "Dwayne?" The boy in the suit, Dwayne, jumped up and rocked back and forth on his heels, palming his fist over and over. Hannah paused, "Uhm, Mr. Bertram will see you now." "Yes he will.", Dwayne responded and without further comment Dwayne marched with purpose past the desk and around the corner. Zayne was sure that the expressions of befuddlement on Hannah's and the blonde's face mirrored her own. The next twenty minutes went by in silence. Zayne idled on her phone, supressing her mounting dread by watching a video of WLD scientists dissecting a giant heart on a table. Another woman appeared from around the corner of the receptionists desk and had a hushed conversation with Hannah. The two laughed at something and Zayne was suddenly struck with a visceral memory of waiting in the principal's office at grade school. A classroom aide was conversing with the secretary about something that amused the two of them, blissfully unaware that as they joked, the principal was currently on the phone with Zayne's father, having a conversation that, to Zayne, would assuredly ruin her life. The division between worlds had never seemed so stark and surreal.

Dwayne came back around the corner, stifling a smile. Must have gone well for him, Zayne thought only with a little bitterness. Or at least he thinks it did, the monster answered. Without even a glance to anyone else he left the office, the door loudly clicking behind him. After another few minutes Hannah called for "Christine?" and the blonde woman stood and gracefully made her way to the back office area. Zayne's chest tightened as she was left alone in the room. She took a page from Dwayne's book and began nervously tapping her foot against the floor. Was it her imagination or did Hannah keep shooting glances at her? A longer time had passed than Dwayne's interview, and Zayne had run out of morbid videos to watch. An alert pinged upfront and Zayne could see the receptionists face tighten. Hannah stared at her pad for another few seconds and silently mouthed a "What the Fuck?", and sighed.

"Zayne?" she called. On shaky legs Zayne approached the counter. Hannah had a pained smile on her face and Zayne could make out that same pity she had seen before in her eyes. "I'm sorry, but the position has just been filled and it looks like your services are no longer required.", Hannah flinched at her own words. Zayne couldn't move.

"Say again?", Zayne said, struggling to process.

"The, uhm, position has been filled and we no longer require your services." A typhoon was raging inside Zayne's brain, making her own thoughts a twisting mass. The monster was clawing at the inside of her skull trying to break free. She leaned forward on the desk for support. "M-Ma'am?",

Zayne didn't hear the other young woman say. At least other businesses actually let me have my interview. Actually speak for myself.

"H-how does he know the position has been filled if he hasn't interviewed all the applicants?", Zayne said, her jaw tight. Hannah hesitated, visibly uncomfortable.

"Mr. Bertram is, err, confident that no other applicants will...uh...have the same qualit- No, uh. ability as the new hiree he has chosen."

"How can he be so confident when he hasn't given me an interview? I might be better qualified for the job.", Zayne seethed, losing control of her tone.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am, he was quite insistent.", Hannah said, the pity now replaced with fear. What should Zayne do? Shout and demand an interview? Wail about how unprofessional this was? The monster screaming for her to, but what would be the point? She wasn't getting the job either way now. Making a scene would just embarrass her more than she already was. Zayne slammed the papers down on the desk causing Hannah to jump backwards. Zayne, trembling with fury stormed out of the office towards the elevator. Zayne would never know how awful Hannah the receptionist felt, who was wiping her eyes behind her desk and pulling up a classifieds page on her pad, searching for a new job herself.

Crying on the curb, Zayne was spiraling down into darkness. Images of her coworkers sneering, the tired looks on her parents faces, an empty notifications box, a hypodermic needle on the bathroom sink. Zayne whimpered. Her own bloody fist, a condescending doctor, filthy insults leveled against her on imageboards, a bloodied face razor, staring down at the city street from a rooftop edge, the pitying look of an office secretary. Zayne gasped. Feelings now accompanied the pictures. Feeling her ribs crack as they were kicked in, the burning in her lungs of cigarette smoke, the panic of being locked in a dark place, shame following a rushed orgasm, the feeling of powerful hands squeezing her throat; pierced by the look of disgust and betrayal in their owner's face. She felt the ever present exhaustion, now more heightened than ever. Abandoning decorum, Zayne curled into a ball on the wet concrete, her dress now ruined.

Was this her identity now? Constant insecurity and fear? And the rage, the fury, the all consuming hatred. The monster hummed. Hatred at those who feared her, hatred at those who dismissed her, hatred at those who pitied her, and hatred at herself. She needed to think back. Think back to a time when she didn't abhor every aspect of Zayne Gladstone. Was there a time? Who was that person and could she be them? A memory of cheering for Dynastinae with her father, watching the Warden suplex Goblin Shark onto a radio tower, broadcast live to the family wallscreen. Zayne used to want to be like her. Not a Warden of course, but strong and bold and beautiful. And fearless. She ended up choosing the Warden as her role model for her fourth grade writing assignment. She remembered a child who would collect old physical books about Pre-Collapse history and hide under the covers at night, using her pad's light to read about the horrors of the Donner Party or the adventurous voyages of the HMS Beagle. She would try to adapt those stories for fantasy table-top adventures she would play with the friends she was so sure she would eventually get. Zayne would even project a grid on her bedroom floor and use snap-blocks to map out dungeons. She remembered playing at the family's piano, wishing she had the mind to read music or the hand to eye coordination to play. Someone sat down next to her at the instrument and took her small hand in theirs. But...no. Even back then during those simpler times, something wasn't right. There was a disconnect. A smog of darkness overcame the images and snuffed them out. Zayne the Monster did not have a personality. She was defined by her struggle. Her pain. Her anxiety. That was all that was left of her.

The breeze abruptly changed direction, announced by a bouncing tin can suddenly reversing its direction. It skidded right past Zayne's prone head. She couldn't be bothered. She was out to lunch. The breeze became a wind, snapping a nearby flag straight from its pole. The dual hands insignia of the Sector Eleven flag reached upward, now completely uncreased, cradling a budding plant. Zayne's hat was tossed far up into the air, leaving her hair to whip wildly about her face.

Zayne's pad started vibrating. She had set it on silent for the interview she didn't get to have. She was oblivious to the few pedestrians out at this hour now rushing to get indoors or underground. People got out of their vehicles and abandoned them in the middle of the parkway. No attention was paid to the strange crying woman curled into a ball on the sidewalk. Thunder rumbled. The wind became a gust, blasting litter down the street. An awareness that something wasn't quite right brushed against the back of Zayne's mind, but she wasn't ready to confront reality yet.

Reality confronted her when she heard a metallic scraping so loud it roused her from her near catatonic state. She looked up just in time to see an overpass sign scraping against asphalt, being propelled towards Zayne by the wind at a terrifying speed. She rolled out of the way just in time, the light steel plowing through the spot Zayne's head had just been. That could have killed her. Maybe it would have been better if it had. The monster growled at that. It did not like those kinds of thoughts. The flag tore itself free from its pole and flew up towards the dark ceiling of the sky. For the first time Zayne was fully cognizant of how strong the wind was. She wanted to stand but she was worried about being blown over. An image crossed her mind of her body being rolled down the street like a ragdoll, smacking into everything. She looked up at the sky to see it was completely overcast, no stars at all. Light pollution illuminated clouds moving extremely fast. This is so strange. Is it another one of those freak storms? Twice in one day? As if on cue, Zayne was buffeted by a sheet of near horizontal, ice-cold rain.

The shock of it knocked the wind out of her. Between the freezing pellets of water stabbing at her skin and the roar of the whorl around her, Zayne's mind was left reeling from sensory overload. Need shelter, the monster shouted, trying to dispel the daze Zayne was in. Need. Shelter. Zayne came back to herself, and struggling against the wind and rain, got to her feet. The storm was blinding. She raised her arms against the blast of water, but it did nothing to help. Zayne almost fell back down as she twisted to angle her back against the wind. There is something…about this. Something about the...storm, Zayne thought to herself. She couldn't see well at all but did know which side of her the buildings were on. She began to hobble in that direction, wincing in discomfort as soaked fabric chafed her legs. "Mark my words, it ain't natural.", she had heard the one-eyed man say. As she shambled towards the buildings shivering, her mind conjured images of a shadow twisting in the clouds. She was piecing it together, slowly yes, but the gears were spinning. She was on the cusp of figuring it out.

The rain began to lessen as suddenly as it began, and the wind lost some of its fury. Zayne could now see above her and around the vacant parkway. Zayne pulled out her pad but dropped it with a "FUCK", as the deafening Insurgency Sirens began to wail. Her hands shot up to cover her ears. Mammoth amber colored flood lights burst to life sequentially running down both sides of the street. All other lights went out. Flinching against the sound, she bent down to grab her pad. Wiping the screen, she clicked it awake and had her worst fears confirmed. WARNING, the pad said in blocky golden letters, AN UBER insurgency is imminent. UBER is Threat Level Six, Manticore Class, Designation: Whiplash. A Take Shelter order is in effect for Sectors 10, 11, and the Urban Development Zone. Priority notice for the avenues of Gingko, Poplar, Birch, Peachtree, and routes 100 to 104. Please do not leave shelter until the All Clear Sign is sounded.

Zayne heard the sound of immense metal gears twisting and squeaking. She looked up just in time to see the steel impact shutters roll down the facades of each building in unison. "Shit, shit." She made a mad dash towards the buildings, it didn't matter which. "Hold the blast door! Please!", Zayne shouted desperately. She was too late, reaching a storefront just in time to see the looks of bewilderment on the occupants' faces as the impact shutters slammed down over them. Zayne pounded on the cold steel with her fists. It wasn't accommodating. She turned back towards the street, her hand to her forehead. "Shit, SHIT!". Zayne began hyperventilating.

Her feet now thoroughly water logged, she ran through puddles to the center of the street. Her head turned back and forth wildly, looking for an out, an escape. An alley maybe? No, she wouldn't want to be in-between two buildings if one of them did collapse, despite the impact shutters. There was a ground level yellow glow at the far end of the parkway. A beacon in the mist. The subway! The subway didn't have impact shutters, so would still be open. If Zayne could reach that she would probably be safe. She leaned down to take off her socks and boots. She could run faster that way, she just hoped there wouldn't be any broken glass on the ground.

As Zayne began yanking off her left boot she felt a sudden gust of wind from behind, followed by a quick tremor in the ground. A lump formed in Zayne's throat. The wind of the storm was now accompanied by a much deeper sound. The sound of air being exchanged. Like through a pair of great lungs. Zayne herself was breathless.. She slowly stood up straight and turned around, only one boot on. Before her was a great cloud of mist. All she could make out was the glow of the floodlights above and beyond. Zayne's breath returned in deep gasps. She could hear her own heartbeat, blood pounding in her ears. Lightning flashed, highlighting the silhouette of a mastodontal dark form in the fog. The quick outline gave the impression of a thing ten stories tall, if not more. Zayne wasn't exactly sure what the actual measurement of a story was, but it didn't matter. The thing was colossal. By the time the thunder sounded, Zayne was back down on the ground staring back up at the wall of mist with terror, whimpering like a child.

"I'm going to die. I'm going to die now.", her voice cracked.

When committing acts of self harm there was always a large part of Zayne's psyche that contemplated what sort of release death could be. Viewing death in that was very detached. Abstract. Warm urine ran down her legs. She had viewed her own death as a tragic end to a dramatic play. The audience would applaud and leave the theater contemplative of their own lives and how their actions affected others. Raw, hot, animalistic fear had flayed her ego to shreds. The thing, Whiplash, took a step forward on a huge folded wing. The light reflecting from the water running off of its skin gave the impression of a leathery texture. People were so confident in the trajectory of their lives, planning vacations or events months, sometimes years, ahead of the present; ignoring the chaos inherent in living. All of their grand plans could be ruined by a surprise rain shower. Or sudden death by kaiju. The beast's head descended from the fog. Its head was carapaced, its mouth a mess of mandibles. They clicked loudly as they scraped against one another. How many people who are fans of a film or book series contemplate that they will not live to see the end of what they follow? If the next volume comes out in three years, one just assumes that they will be there to consume it. So strange at this moment to be regretful over missing next week's episode of Pre-C. The Kaiju had six brilliant pearlescent eyes, three on each side of its face. Two sets of smaller eyes near the "snout" and a set of huge eyes near the back of the head that were the size of car doors. It leaned down, cocking its head to inspect Zayne. She could see herself reflected in one of the huge eyes.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Here she was, on the ground, in a puddle of her own piss, looking like a skeleton. Her hair was matted against her forehead from the rain, her suffering dress was pulled tight around her body by water showing that she did, in fact, have a bust. This isn't the worst I've looked to be honest. Odd that now she was so concerned with self preservation, when less than a half hour ago she was ready to give up living. Because of what? A job interview? It suddenly felt so...small. Inconsequential. True mortal peril was very sobering.

The creature unfolded the mandibles in its mouth and screamed. The sudden wave of sound smacked her skull against the pavement. Zayne shouted as webs of white hot pain spread across her head, a wind chime against the kaiju's hurricane of noise. Vehicle windows and streetlights shattered. Zayne could see colors beneath her squeezed shut eyelids. Were those blood vessels breaking? She could feel the horrible sound moving through her bones. She felt the creature's hot breath blow over her. It had the sickening smell of ammonia. The vibrations faded out, leaving a loud ringing in her ears. Zayne turned to her side and vomited.

Staring at her own sick, Zayne accepted that this was the end now. She wasn't okay with that but what can you do?, her mind said. She was aware of Whiplash moving to inches from her face as she fumbled with her bag. She could feel the displacement of the air and ammonia stench was so strong. Hands trembling, Zayne lit a cigarette and welcomed that familiar burn in her chest for one last time. She closed her eyes. She closed her eyes and she waited. Why am I still waiting?, she thought. Shouldn't she be in the process of being torn apart by chitinous mandibles? She dared a peak. Zayne opened one eye slightly and saw the creature's huge head rising back up from the ground. It was now staring straight down the parkway. Is it uninterested in me? Can I sneak away? Zayne controlled her breathing and forced herself to look away from the monster. She slowly pressed her hand down and squeaked loudly in pain as a shard of glass cut her palm. Whiplash let out a growl, which sounded like huge stones being grinded in its stomach.

"Fucking dammit!", Zayne said.

But it wasn't staring at her. Its gaze was still locked down the street. Zayne clenched her bleeding fist and took the opportunity to put the boot back on as inconspicuously as she could manage. If the creature would allow it she would walk over and hide in an alley and wait for it to move on. It wasn't rampaging. Was it ill? No. The monster seemed to be waiting for something.

A huge gust of wind blasted backward from up ahead. Stepping out from the mist at that far end of the street was a God. The titanic figure may as well have been. She towered above the city street. Her form was the epitome of athleticism, as though she was sculpted from marble. Skin a gleaming bronze with silver banded highlights, Dynastinae looked as though she had stepped down from Mount Olympus itself. The metallic sheen of her skin glistened in the rain. Her body didn't betray characteristics of sex, but that long horn protruding from her forehead like a beetle's? The mane of golden hair flowing from behind her helmeted head? The glowing cerulean blue eyes of her mask? Warden Dynastinae was unmistakable. Iconic. Beautiful. Zayne's breath caught in her throat, her mouth agape. She was starstruck. Dynastinae leaned low into that classic grappling stance that Zayne had seen so many times on the feeds. This is a really bad place to be standing, idiot, her own internal monster whispered. Whiplash bellowed in challenge, forcing Zayne to cover her ears again. Dynastinae pounded her chest with a fist and shouted back. Her voice was distorted and overlapped itself.

Whiplash, on all fours, charged. A folded wing passed over Zayne's head and she leapt out of the way of its back foot. The titans collided in a Shockwave. Dynastinae had grabbed the creature's throat, holding back its madly snapping jaws. Whiplash had wrapped its wings around the Warden's back, digging its claws in, trying to force Dynastinae to the ground. With her left hand, Dynastinae grabbed in-between the kaiju's back legs. Digging her feet in, she used the leverage to lift the creature up over her head and slam it onto the ground behind her. Zayne knew the fight would be short if the Warden could keep her advantage. Dynastinae was a grappler and relied on close quarters combat. This position favored her strengths. The Warden piledrived down onto Whiplash's back before it could recover. Zayne, you need to run. Now! In her defense it was hard not to stare. She had never seen this sort of thing in person. She came back to the moment and bolted towards one of the side streets. An alley was her only option now. Whiplash's extremely long tail was now visible. It whipped right over her with a whoosh and slammed into the wall of buildings, denting the impact shutters. Zayne raised her arms to protect her face from any debris, but was blasted backwards by the displaced air from the collision. She lowered her arms and saw that the creature's tail looked like giant chords of thick rope entwined together. The tail extracted itself and coiled back. It wrapped around Dynastinae's ankles as she was trying to put the kaiju in a chokehold. In a single movement Whiplash tightened its tail and pulled, Dynastinae fell backwards, the monster released its tail then stretched it high in the air with lightning speed, and then slammed it down onto the Warden.

The force of the impact cracked the street. It sent benches, recycling bins, and cars up several feet from the ground. Zayne too. She fell right on her tailbone. Arrested with shock, all she could was lie there letting the rain wash her face. She heard the whirring blades of VTOL helicopters. In a daze she opened her eyes to see one flying directly overhead. She turned and saw several more shining flood lights on the battle. Could I get their attention and get airlifted out of here? It was a slim chance but it was something. She moved to get on her feet. Her head hurt. Her butt hurt. Zayne steeled herself and began shouting and waving at the choppers, not bothering to moderate her octave. Movement stirred in the impact site. Zayne was not surprised. Dynastinae had taken harder hits than that. Ten years ago maybe. She's getting older. Wardens and Rangers didn't age like normal people, sure, but that didn't mean they didn't age at all…No. She would be fine. She was Dynastinae.

And so it was that Zayne's heart began to swell when she saw the Warden rise from the crater her body left. Whiplash turned, chattering in what Zayne took for surprise. Dynastinae was gripping the monster's tail now. "HERACLES TOSS!", Dynastinae roared. Before Whiplash could react, the Warden threw it high into the air. Dynastinae crouched and then leaped into the air after it, punching it squarely in its center of mass. Dynastinae's momentum carried her higher than the kaiju. Zayne actually cheered. The classic follow up to this move was to kick downward with both feet, slamming the Uber into the ground. Whiplash did not give her the chance. It recovered from the punch with a midair twist with its wings. As Dynastinae came downward, Whiplash crashed into her side. It dug the talons of its back two feet into Dynastinae's chest. The Warden punched it right on the chin, punctuated by a spray of purple ichor. Whiplash folded its wings and smashed Dynastinae back into the ground. Oh no, Zayne thought, suddenly paralyzed. This one was cunning. What would happen if Dynastinae lost? Whiplash began raking its claws over the titans arms, now crossed in defense.

"BEETLE BARRAGE", Dynastinae bellowed. A blinding flash of light followed. Whiplash recoiled from the light. Where there were hands before, Dynastinae's arms now ended with large, blunt, gauntlet-like appendages. No fingers, but there was a short sharp spike on each "glove". A squirt of purple erupted from Whiplash's chest. Followed by another, and another, and soon hundreds. Whiplash's chest began to cave inward as it was being pushed back up and off of Dynastinae. Zayne knew what was happening. One of Dynastinae's signature techniques. The Warden's arms were a blur. Punching hundreds of times in rapid succession. The hits moving so fast the eye could not register them. Her arms stopped with a snap. She landed another punch on the face and followed up by slamming Whiplash into a building. She had Whiplash pinned with her elbow to its throat. Zayne gaped in awe, her efforts to be rescued now completely forgotten. Here comes the killing blow. Whiplash's tail then unraveled. One thick tail became six thin whips, flowing in the air like strands of hair. Each whip was tipped with a razor sharp sickle. Dynastinae hadn't noticed. The six whips shot up in unison. Dynastinae was pulling her fist back for the final hit. "Look out!", Zayne screamed at the top of her lungs. The Warden tilted her head and then vanished in a blink just in time to avoid the sickle tipped tendrils that pierced into the wall above Whiplash's head.

Dynastinae reappeared on the far side of the parkway again. She kept herself in a ready stance, sizing up the condition of her opponent. Whiplash growled pushing himself off of the shuttered tower he had been hit against. His chest was expanding. Zayne could hear the bones snapping back into place as its organs regrew. Zayne felt a new wave of dread smother her. The tendrils were twisting and dancing around its body. The air filled with the sound of explosive cracking. They shot towards Dynastinae, snapping straight. She dodged left, and all the tendrils angled left. Sharply. The kaiju had flawless control over each tail, down to the mildest course correction. Dynastinae, her hands transforming back to normal, picked up the displaced overpass sign and used it to slam the blades away like it was a buckler. Whiplash screeched. The whips bounced off the surface of a building right back at Dynastinae. For what felt like minutes this dance continued. The taips flashing around at impossible angles, Dynastinae dodging and blocking with the steel sign. Dynastinae suddenly hesitated. She dodged again at that second. When the whips course corrected she swept up with her left forearm, catching the chords, letting them wrap around. In a swift motion, her shield hand slammed down, severing the ends off with the signs edge. Whiplash screamed in pain. Zayne wondered if her hearing would be permanently damaged after today.

Dynastinae bolted forward and backhanded Whiplash's face with the sign. Purple sprayed all across the building like a fountain. Its head fell down to ground level. Dynastinae raised her foot for a glorified curbstomp when the building adjacent to her was cut in half. Whiplash propelled himself away, leaving the Warden to be crushed by the office building. Zayne, blinked, dumbfounded. Buildings didn't just fall. Not these days. The structures were designed to deal with extreme stress. The only times she had heard about skyscrapers collapsing was from Threat Level Eight or higher Insurgencies. Which were rare in this city. Only two in Zayne's lifetime, and not her sector. And this was supposedly a Threat Level Six. Higher than the normal Level Fours, sure, but how could it be doing this? The answer came in the form of a light coming from the roadside. The monster's long tails were now glowing. They were now the color of molten metal. Fire was spreading around them where they laid. The light then shifted to a white blue hue, giving the impression of even greater heat. One of the tails freed itself from the wreckage of the sliced building. External Extra-Planar Energy Projection. This was really bad. Zayne knew of only three other Ubers on the continent that could do it. Zayne fell to her knees. 'Bad' was an understatement. Shelter wasn't even an option anymore. The entire sector might be doomed, and all the people in it. The building that had collapsed...how many people were in there? How many now dead? Zayne felt like she was going to throw up again.

"UNICORN BEAM!" Dynastinae had emerged from the rubble and fired a tight beam of concentrated purple energy from the tip of her horn. The air sang with its energy. The projectile beam sliced upward, cutting one of Whiplash's wings free from its body like a hot knife through butter. Dynastinae terminated the beam as it clipped through the top floor of a distant building. Whiplash chattered and howled, writhing on the ground. Zayne had never seen a Warden weapon of last resort be used. It was too destructive to be used safely in populated areas. The glowing tendrils exploded to life. Thrashing about wildly leaving deep scores on the surrounding buildings. One tail went right through one of the helicopters. Another chopper had its rotor clipped and it came down crashing into a building face not three hundred yards from where Zayne was standing. Close enough for the heat of the blast to kiss her skin. The helicopter rotor rocketed backwards past Zayne into the building behind her with such force that it punctured the steel shutter. The constant flashing of lights gave the impression of the world's deadliest rave. Then one of the wild tendrils sliced clean through the office building Zayne just had her not-interview in. The top half of the building began to slide. It was going to fall right on top of Zayne. Dynastinae leapt into action. She jumped in front of Zayne and caught the building.

Zayne was, Zayne was, well Zayne didn't even know. What are you supposed to feel watching a glorious, bronze, thirty story tall Olympian holding up a skyscraper directly over top of you. Terror? Awe? Elation? It was like seeing Atlas bear the load of all the stars in the sky. There was no word to convey these feelings. A Warden, Dynastinae, her childhood hero, was rescuing her. Maybe not her specifically, but it didn't really matter. Zayne could see her lithe muscles tighten under the weight. She could hear the titan's calm, but heavy breaths. Zayne could reach out right now and touch the Dynastinae's heel! Not in her wildest childhood fantasies could she imagine such a sight. If only Erica were still here, she would never believe it.

Dynastinae growled under the pressure, as she gently brought the top half of the building down to a rest in the ground. She clapped debris from her hands and rolled her shoulder. She turned sharply and looked straight down at Zayne. It looked like she was about to say something, but was interrupted by a glowing tendril wrapping around her leg. It dug into her skin, and Zayne could smell the metallic flesh burning and hear it sizzle. Dynastinae screamed in pain. She fell to one knee gasping. Less than a foot separated Zayne from her huge head. The coil around the Warden's leg tightened and pinched the leg off. It severed right below the knee. Dynastinae's mouth fell open, no scream escaped her mouth this time. She was gasping for air in shock, the pain too overwhelming to express. Zayne heard a blood curdling shriek. Her and Dynastinae turned to see Whiplash awkwardly bound towards them on one wing, shaking the ground. It pounced off the motorway towards them using its hind legs. Its talons glinted in the amber floodlights. Dynastinae swept a hand sideways and grabbed Zayne. She held her close to her breast as Whiplash landed right on top of her back. The roadway immediately around them cracked and collapsed underneath them. The three of them plummeted downwards. Zayne, reeling from whiplash and held tight in Dynastinae's hand, felt very faint. She was only vaguely aware she was falling when her vision went black.

Water was pouring on Zayne's face. She was in darkness, swimming through a torrent of thoughts and warped images. She saw herself weeping into her sister's lap. She saw herself in the third person rushing out of some office. She was sitting by a sunbaked riverside pressing reed pulp into paper. The sky darkened above her. Violent cracking echoed across the landscape. She ran. The mud had begun taking hold of her feet. With each step she sank further and further down. The mud was to her waist. She began to panic. The mud now covered her shoulders. Each frantic thrash sucked her down further. The mud was now entering her mouth. Through tears she saw a bronze hand reaching towards her. It was attached to a shining figure, like lightning made manifest into human form.

Zayne woke with a start, coughing violently. She coughed up water until her chest hurt, or did her chest hurt already. She winced in pain. Zayne was in a sorry state. Her neck and lower jaw were tight. Her tush still smarted from landing on her tailbone earlier as well. She tried to push herself up and almost fell again when a sharp pain stabbed at her left shoulder. My collar bone is broken. Zayne moaned. How did this all happen? There was a big thing that had happened. She was trapped outside in a storm and...and an Uber appeared. A Warden came to fight it…yes. The memories came back like a flood. Dynastinae had grabbed her in her hand, presumably breaking her collar bone and maybe a few ribs by the feel of it. Then they fell through the ground…but to where? Where was she? She took in her surroundings. She tested her weight on both legs to see if there was any damage. They were sore and scraped, but nothing seemed broken, so Zayne began to investigate. It was dark, but not pitch. A musty stench permeated the air. Zayne was in some kind of rubble? Her hand ran along a wall of cold, cracked concrete. She flinched as her cut on her palm grazed the surface. No, this wasn't merely rubble. This was a ruin. It was very humid. The dark place was alive with the sounds of water leaking down from high above. She rounded the edge of the wall and was taken aback by the sight of a huge cavern. Her mouth fell open. It was the largest indoor space she had ever seen. The entirety of Sector Eleven could comfortably fit inside it, maybe Sector Ten as well. Peaking through the stone floor of the incredible space were dozens, no hundreds of buildings. Some were broken in half or leaning crooked. Others were ripped apart clear to their foundation. Still some were standing straight and tall, resolute, like their rocky tomb was a temporary inconvenience. They waited in silence for their inhabitants to return, eager to not disappoint. This is the old city. Austin.

Bright light shined down from a huge hole in the cavern's ceiling right above her. It was thousands of feet up. She could vaguely make out the whirring of helicopter blades. We must have fallen clear through the subway. A deluge of water poured in from the edges of the gap. Her foot hit something. Something softer than it should be. A human body. Zayne covered her mouth with the back of her hand. She began to sob. She had never seen a dead body before, outside of-You don't have time for this, you need to move, the monster said. She gingerly walked around the corpse. There were more bodies littering the ground. Dark blobs in too dark puddles. One of the bodies had a familiar flat top hair cut. Zayne's throat tightened. She stumbled forward and crouched down. Dwayne stared up at the hole with lifeless eyes.

"Oh...oh...Dwayne…", Zayne whispered. She leaned forward and touched the sleeve of his arm. His body was cold. Look for a pad, you need one. Zayne started. She felt for the pockets of her dress. Her pad was gone. Zayne cursed. She must have lost it in all the chaos. She reflected. Zayne could easily have been one of these corpses. She must have avoided certain death four or five times. Why was it her looking down on Dwayne's body and not the other way around? She deserved it. STOP IT, the monster roared. Pad. NOW! Zayne wrestled herself back to reality. She lifted his side to get at his back pockets. The back of his head lifted off of the piece of rebar impaling the back of it, leaving a chunk of wet brains behind. A wave of nausea hit her like a tramcar. Zayne dropped the body and recoiled in horror, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. Her scream was cut off when a hand wrapped around her mouth.

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"Shhh! Shhh! It's okay. It's okay hun. You're okay.", a female voice hissed. Zayne struggled against the strong arms binding her. She kicked out her legs, breathing sharply. "Calm down now hun, calm down." It was the pain of her shoulder and ribs that slowed her down before the strange voice did. When her legs stopped kicking and her breathing slowed, the arms finally eased up. The stranger released her and Zayne turned to ask "Who are-"

"We're not alone.", the woman interrupted with a whisper. She pointed at a far wall. A large shadow moved across it, belying its larger owner moving around the corner. Zayne heard the sound of chitin scraping against concrete. The ledge they were on shook as it passed by. Crumbs of granite fell on them from above.

"The kaiju? It's not dead?", Zayne asked.

"Despite my best efforts, no he is not. I have never witnessed an Uber so relentless.", the woman said. "And those weapons?", she continued, "Threat Level Six my tight ass. WLD should have sent in a three-man team for this." she said, clearly incensed. "I don't know who dropped the ball, but this bullshit intel just cost us dozens, maybe hundreds of lives.", she spat.

Wearing a white combat uniform stained with dirt, the woman looked to be in her prime. She had a sharp face and piercing gray eyes. Her short golden hair would be gorgeous, had it not been for the pebbles and grime mixed into the now drenched locks. She could have been Zayne's age, but the creases of her forehead and around the corners of her lips betrayed her. And those eyes. Those intense eyes belonged to a woman well beyond her visible age. They looked so tired.

"Y-you're Dynastinae!", Zayne stuttered.

"Carol please, Carol Jessup."

Zayne didn't respond, and just sat gawking, mouthing wordlessly. After a few seconds Dynastinae, no, Carol raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have a head wound, sweetie?", Carol asked.

Zayne just said the first thing she thought. "I-I wrote a paper on you in fourth grade."

Carol chuckled, her eyes softening. "Well I hope it was good."

"I got a B+." Zayne answered.

"Are you going to be able to walk, B+?"

"Yes, I can walk."

"Good, then you can help me.", Carol said with a sigh.

"Help...you?", Zayne froze and looked down to see Carol kneeling on one leg, supporting herself with her arms. Zayne's stomach dropped.

"Oh...oh my God, I am so sorry.", Zayne stammered. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't been there to do distract you then-

"It's my own damn fault for not being more aware of my surroundings.", Carol cut off with audible exasperation. "And that was the second time I slipped up in the fight, I'll remind you. The first time you saved my life by calling out the tail things, so don't worry about it." Zayne paled. "I saved you?"

"That was you who shouted right?" Zayne nodded.

"Then yes, you did. You are now part of a very exclusive club. I can count on one hand the folks who have saved my bacon. And one of them is my divorce lawyer. Besides, it will grow back."

Zayne looked down at her soiled dress, still feeling guilty. "B-but you can't fight.", Zayne whispered. Carol shrugged in response.

"Do you have a name, B+?", Carol asked, holding out her hand. Zayne felt her cheeks go red. "It's Z-Zayne. Zayne Gladstone." She reached out and took Carol's hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Zayne Gladstone." The Warden wrinkled her nose."You smell like piss, Zayne."

"I...I've had a bad day."

It occurred to Zayne that the last time she had put so much effort into sneaking was when she was a child, creeping into the kitchen passed her bedtime for a cookie while her parents watched the feeds in the neighboring room. However, back then stakes hadn't been quite life or death. The Uber, Whiplash, had passed under and behind the concrete shelf of rubble Dynastinae, or Carol rather, and Zayne had found themselves on several times now. Even now with the creature relatively far away, the acoustics of the chamber made the sounds of its ragged, labored breathing clear might as well have been a foghorn. Zayne was super aware of every scuff her feet made against cement, and every piece of glass or litter she nudged out of her path. Every time it happened she would pause, waiting for the faint blue glow of the kaiju's vine-like tails to appear at the edges of her vision. Foretelling her doom. Crutch, Zayne. Find a crutch.

Ubers Threat Level Eight and above, or Arch Monsters more colloquially, were sophisticated entities. They had seemingly developed, over the course of very long lives, a degree of intelligence. At least according to the few official verified accounts of physical encounters with the beings outside the walls of the great cities. They had invaded before and wrought incalculable destruction in their wake, but that was actually rare. They were far more inclined to keep to themselves, or clash against each other in cataclysmic territory disputes, or just nap for decades at a time. Others still had motives completely alien and inscrutable to human or Warden minds. Kesca for example, one of the five kaiju Zayne knew to be capable of projecting its internal energy offensively, just floated high in the stratosphere. It's serpentine coils drifted dormant in a shroud of ice crystals. From its vantage point it could launch a devastating energy attack on any of the three great cities left on Earth, but it didn't. It hadn't stirred in probably a century, and WLD was seemingly more than fine with not provoking it. There was a reason only three cities were left on the planet after all. Zayne had a lot of gaps in her kaiju knowledge; She had never fallen in with Ubercell or BRodan communities on the web or made a habit of watching UbTubers. Still she was quite sure no kaiju had ever acted like this before, particularly a sub-eight. Whiplash was hunting an individual. Rather than rampage, search for food, or expand territory, it had come with the express purpose of hunting Dynastinae. Zayne hugged herself with her functioning arm. The idea was chilling. But the more Zayne thought about it, the more she was sure of it. It hid in the storm patterns to get past the conventional barrier defenses and detection systems, and then waited for Dynastinae to arrive. Even now, mortally wounded for certain, it relentlessly searched for its mark. Carol had come to the same conclusion. As to why, the Warden had no idea. Was it only after the sector's Warden or Carol specifically? The idea of an Uber capable of targeting an individual person made her skin crawl.

Finding a suitable crutch in this environment was a tall order. Any wood she came across was more rot than fiber. She needed a rod of metal roughly five and half feet tall, and for it to be capable of bearing Carol's weight without injuring her armpit. She stepped around a large leak trickling in from a crack in the ceiling above. Zayne didn't know if that was possible, but it wasn't like they could just wait there for Whiplash to find and kill them. A faint blue light lengthened the shadows around her. Zayne crouched down. Her own fingernails dug into the skin of her arm. Her entire body tensed and she prayed desperately that the blown out structure she was in concealed her. The footfalls moved right on. Zayne sighed in relief. The passing blue light reflected off of a piece of metal half hidden under a collapsed ceiling. Zayne crab walked over to inspect, too nervous to stand back up quite yet. Hmm… now this could work.

It took ten minutes to navigate back to where Carol was laying. She had to pause every few minutes and wait with baited breath for Whiplash to pass by. Upon arrival, Zayne was surprised to find the Warden shooting up. Carol's belt was tied tight around her right arm and several spent needles discarded on the ground.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Relax kid," she said in the cadence of someone doing nothing more unusual than tying their shoes. "These shots are a chemical compound that binds with the Extra-Planar energy my white blood cells produce and stimulate my healing beyond their usual speed." If you cut a Warden you could see the wound close in seconds, so the extent of Carol's damage must have been significant.

"Should you be taking so many at once?"

"No."

Zayne was about to argue, but her words died in her throat. Who was she to admonish a star Warden who had made a thirty-one year career out of fighting giant monsters? Zayne worked in a kitchen, and had quite a lot of experience doing other things to her own body that you weren't 'supposed' to do. The struggle on whether or not to say something must have been clear on Zayne's face because Carol expanded.

"In the fall I maybe broke my back just a little bit, and pulverized my liver and some other important inside parts." Carol felt her around own abdomen. "These injections", she gestured to the needles on the ground, "are for those, and I think they are knit up nice and tight now. The harder part comes next." She said with a sigh. "Did you find me a leg anywhere?" Zayne shook her head, "No ma'am, but I did find this.", she said, showing Carol the yellow wagon she was tugging with her good arm. Carol raised both her eyebrows this time.

"Okay, first of all honey, do not call me ma'am. You are not subordinate to me, let alone in any chain of command. You are a civilian, and I am a civil servant. Plus I really hate being called 'ma'am'." Carol breathed, "Second thing, setting aside the indignity of being towed in a wagon like a child, what happens if we encounter terrain we cannot move the wagon over?" Zayne hadn't considered this and thought for a moment.

"Well, if we had a crutch for you wouldn't we potentially run into the same problems?"

"I suppose that is a point."

Another thought occurred to Zayne. "Besides, with your body loaded full of that healing stimulant, can't we, like, I don't know...throw yourself over or down something and your body will just heal?" Carol didn't respond and just glared at Zayne. Zayne was beginning to feel really, really stupid when Carol's face suddenly split into a wide grin. Zayne had not meant what she said to be a joke, but she felt a tinge of warmth seeing the smile. For the first time that day, Zayne smiled too.

Pulling on the wagon with one arm was awkward before when it was empty. Now, it being burdened with the full weight of a person, it might be the most difficult task she'd ever undertaken. "Either this or mozzarella sticks.", she muttered through gritted teeth. Her muscles and joints were screaming and every inhalation was a sharp pain. The 'path' they were taking lead them down off the shelf and away from the city through a narrow corridor made up of mounds of debris. Presumably what used to be a road. Wood structures that had long rotted away into refuse lined both sides. The most annoying part of the trek was getting the wagon down from up high. Zayne's hypothetical was proven accurate when without any recourse she was forced to push the wagon off the edge. It hit the ground with a clang, and Carol ended up sprawled in the dirt. Her breath caught, waiting to see if their transgression had been notice. No noticeable reaction. A cascade of apologies followed from Zayne in a hushed voice. Carol dismissed her with a sharp wave of her hand. Her extra-naturally enforced body hadn't even taken damage. She assured Zayne was performing exceptionally well given the circumstances.

"What was that, hun?", Carol asked. Zayne's face flushed again for what must have been the thirtieth time that day.

"What was what?", Zayne replied.

"What you said just now."

"O-oh", she stuttered, feeling embarrassed. "It was nothing."

"Tell me anyway, after you take a left up a head."

Zayne took the left gently, careful not to scrape the wagon against a wall.

"I-I was saying that I don't know which is more difficult, pulling this wagon right now or", she hesitated, "doing mozzarella sticks."

"Mozzarella sticks?" Carol queried.

"Yes."

"Sweetie, are you sure you don't have a head wound?", the Warden asked, her question full of concern.

"I'm actually not sure, but I do know what I said."

Carol didn't respond for a moment. Zayne was suddenly viscerally aware of how thirsty she was. Her throat was parched.

"I'm afraid I don't follow.", Carol said.

Zayne exhaled. She turned around to face Carol while she pulled the wagon.

"The mozzarella sticks you order at a chain restaurant are usually pre-made frozen sticks taken out of a box. But do you know how they are made fresh?" Carol shook her head. Why would the Standing Warden of Sector Eleven know how to make mozzarella sticks, dumbass?, the monster inside said. Zayne had a hard time imagining Carol Jessup, wearing her WLD Standard, at a bar casually eating finger-food appetizers.

"Have…have you ever had mozzarella sticks?", Zayne asked. Carol rolled her eyes.

"Yes Zayne, I have had mozzarella sticks. I have microwaveable ones in my freezer. It's not like whenever we aren't fighting monsters or having ass numbing meetings we get thrown into a closet afterwards.", Carol said. Zayne grimaced. It had been an absurd question.

"I just thought that-", but Carol cut her off, "That we are above normal humans, right? Gods among men? Righteous and pious? That sort of thing?" Zayne reluctantly nodded. Carol sighed, "I suppose I can't blame you. WLD works very hard to promote that image. They carefully curate our public appearances, denying any unscripted interviews. And then they sell our likenesses on toys and lunchboxes so children have perfect, ideal role models to write fourth grade papers on." Zayne cringed. The Warden sounded so bitter. Zayne hoped she hadn't accidentally patronized her earlier. Carol must have noticed Zayne's discomfort because her next words were softer. "I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes my superiors also forget that we are normal people." she looked down. "I shouldn't be telling you this but Carol Jessup isn't even my real name. That's one of the first things they take from you. You get a whole separate set of identification papers. When you go grocery shopping or out to eat they expect you to use your 'real' ID so the public never sees the 'real' you." Zayne did not know this. Though she did suppose it made sense. If a Warden got caught doing something illegal, then it couldn't be traced back to WLD. Their hands would always be clean and they could perpetuate the perfectionist image Carol so clearly disdained. "Sorry to disappoint you hun, but rest assured I drink, fuck, and shit like everybody else." It went quiet. Zayne was more than a little shocked by Dynastinae's bluntness. And vulgarity. But that shock only reinforced Carol's point. Zayne considered asking the Warden's real name but thought better of it. A loud roar heralded the sound of tumbling stone. It sounded like Whiplash had tipped over a ruin a ways back, and Zayne could see a huge cloud of dust rising in the air from there they had been only minutes before. Her eyes widened and her breath caught.

"Mozzarella sticks.", Carol said, drawing Zayne's attention back. She realized she had stopped pulling the wagon.

"H-huh?"

"Before I went on a rude rant, you were going to tell me how you make them.", Carol responded without any trace of worry in her voice. "Also please continue pulling this thing before we get eaten.", she followed up. "We're almost there hun, just relax and focus on me."

"Oh...okay...right." Zayne continued tugging. Carol nodded patiently, encouraging Zayne to go on.

"Well, uhm, first you have to cut down logs of cheese into stick shapes. Each log yields about a hundred or so sticks. Usually you do six logs at once." Carol pointed left and Zayne steered the wagon left. The volume of the activity behind them was only increasing. Whiplash was losing patience, or blood, its breaths came increasingly more frantic. Carol calmly gestured Zayne to continue, looking thoroughly serene. "You then coat all of sticks with flour by hand. You, erm, make up an eggsoak, which is uh, ten beat eggs and a third of a gallon of milk. Then you have to dip each individual stick in the eggsoak and then drop them in breadcrumbs and make sure its coated evenly." Carol put a hand to her chin, thoughtful.

"That sounds tedious but doable."

"We aren't done." The crashing was getting louder. Closer. "You then have to flour all of the sticks you just breaded again. You make a new eggsoak, and swap out the breadcrumbs. You now have to soak each individual stick and bread them a second time."

"Why do you have to do it a second time?", Carol asked, listening intently like there was nothing unusual or distressing about their situation at all.

"Because if the breadcrumb coating isn't thick and even then the cheese leaks out when you deep fry them." Zayne continued, pulling on the wagon faster subconsciously. She was really sweating now. Carol's calm demeanor was a lifeline against an incoming tsunami of anxiety and panic. "When that's done, you have to lay them all out on a series of sheet trays so they aren't touching one another and freeze them overnight. In the morning," she groaned with effort, "you have to portion them out into a serving of four and bag them. And that's it, you are done in about six hours. All by yourself." Anger swelled up in her unexpectedly. "Even though just one other person helping could cut that time in half", she finished, not bothering to filter the irritation out of her voice. The ground was now shaking, slightly bouncing the wagon up and down. The faint scent of ammonia passed under her nose.

"And how many times a week do you have to do this, Zayne?", she asked, directing her driver around a corner.

"Three times a week. Every week. For six", she yanked the wagon over a slab of uneven terrain, "years.", she hissed out. Carol smiled.

"Yes, I can see how a change of pace might be refreshing." Whiplash's enormous head crested the wall. Ichor spilled from its ruined mouth, splattering down the side, painting it violet. Not even acknowledging the beast Carol continued on, "Though I personally wouldn't have chosen something so dramatic as this."

Zayne dropped the handle of the wagon and backed away as the mountain of chitin and muscled turned to look at them with its huge pearlescent eyes, of which now only three still seemed functional. Two eyes were crushed like great grapes, a third had turned a milky mauve. Threads of steam were faintly rising from the bleeding cracks in its carapace. The anger that had energized her a moment ago dissipated in an instant, leaving her drained. "D-Dynastinae...what...what do we do?", Zayne said, quaking in her boots. "We don't need to do anything," Carol said, brushing dirt off of her uniform. "We are exactly where we need to be." She paused, and then, "also please call me Carol." Whiplash roared. A drop of warm purple flecked onto Zayne's nose. She was hit again with that sickening ammonia smell. The roar was not so loud as before. It could have been the creature weakening, or its broken face, but Zayne was given the distinct impression of…anguish in its voice. She hazarded a glance behind her but what she saw forced her to turn fully around, completely gobsmacked.

Zayne had heard before that during times of crisis time tends to slow down. In fact she had experienced this phenomenon herself. Still, with all that she had experienced today, it was difficult to believe that the sum of it all had occurred only within the past two hours. Then again, she did not know how long she lost consciousness for after the fall. But from Zayne's perspective in the last couple of hours she had witnessed two freak storms, bombed a job interview, cried in the gutter in the fetal position, got locked outside during an Uber Insurgency, had been stared down by a kaiju, witnessed her childhood hero fight said kaiju, saw energy attacks slice buildings apart, had nearly been crushed by one of those buildings, had fallen underground into the ruins of a forgotten city, was now on a first name basis with The Sector Eleven Warden, and had almost died probably five times. Do not forget the ones who did, Zayne. Dwayne's brains on a piece of rebar. Zayne's gut clenched. All of these sounds and images still had not prepared her for the astonishment she felt now, looking up at the roof of the mouth of a vast skull. Vast was not an empty superlative. The skull was potentially equal in size to a smaller office building. Whiplash, scraping at the rubble outside, whined and chattered with frustration. Whiplash itself could have fit inside this the maw.

The monster who had destroyed the world had many names. The Emperor Monster or Beast, King of Strife or Strife King, Monster Zero or X, Ultima, and, for some people during the collapse, God. The Strife King was not God. The corpse surrounding Zayne and Carol was proof of that. However, staring at the tree-trunk sized crystal teeth in every direction, she couldn't blame the old civilizations that thought he was. Even after centuries, the skeleton still emitted a faint white glow from the core of each bone. If you watched for long enough the light seemed to alternate in color. Extra-Planar Energy. The atmosphere in the skull felt dense somehow as if the energy decaying from the bones burdened the air around them. Strife King. His arrival cracked a continent in half. He had lifted the edge of a tectonic plate with his shoulders and tilted it off his back. With a single shout he could level a village. His destructive heat ray sliced entire city skylines in twain. His footsteps left lakes behind him. His scream could be heard half the world away. His blood was as hot as molten lead. Strife King, who was finally defeated whenthe Star Wardens came, had scarred the moon itself in his final struggle. This was where he fell, after the Five Year Waste. No matter who you were or where you were raised, you would be inundated with stories of the behemoth's exploits from a very early age. They drilled it in across four whole years of Social Studies at Zayne's school. They made more films about that period of time than they did the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Zayne couldn't help but be aware that Strife King had died within the city limits of where Resilience stood today, but she had no idea that it was within her own sector. The stories had never been that specific. She had certainly never paid any mind to whether or not his body was still lying around somewhere

"Pretty cool, huh?" said Carol from the ground. She was propped up into a sitting position, her back against an automobile sized tooth jutting from the earth. Whiplash snorted outside, tossing its head like a horse. It hadn't advanced any closer from where his head initially appeared. It moaned weakly. Purple pooled under its head.

"It's not healing itself?" Zayne asked.

"He's expending the bulk of his energy on his bull-whips there", Carol gestured at the blue glow emanating from behind the mound. "He turns off the light show and starts healing, I'd bet a Washington Dollar he wouldn't have enough in his stores to get 'em going again,"

"Why isn't it trying to get at us?", Zayne asked, failing to keep the crack out of her voice.

"This.", she said nonchalantly, rapping her knuckles on the crystalline tooth.

"Why?", Zayne looked around to see if she missed something obvious. "He is very dead."

"They call this one the Emperor Monster for a reason.", Carol replied. "All other kaiju are, or were, subservient to him. Some scholars believe he was the progenitor of all Ubers on Earth today. He was the first humanity had encountered.", she rested her head against the tooth as though she were savoring the glow, "I personally don't agree with that theory.", Carol waved a hand in derision, "Regardless, he was the most powerful Uber humanity has on record." Something about that statement itched uncomfortably in Zayne's mind. She specified humanity, her personal brain monster told her. Carol pulled a flask from inside her coat and took a long swig. She proffered it to Zayne, who took it gratefully if not a little too eagerly. She took a deep gulp and immediately started coughing, ready to wretch. Her throat was on fire.

"This is vodka!", she exclaimed, wiping her mouth, and handing the flask back.

"Each Uber has its own unique energy signature, and they can detect this energy signature and identify each other using it, like a fingerprint.", she continued as though nothing at all unusual had happened. "Extra-Planar isotopes inside of these bones are slowly decaying, releasing their stored energy. The dim glow we see now is that energy ionizing the air. Even after centuries, the energy in these bones is noticeable, along with the energy signature that is still intact." Zayne's eyes widened.

"So that kaiju thinks this skeleton is still alive?" Carol smirked at that.

"No, this boy is not that dumb, hun.", she nodded at her leg stump where pink raw skin had grown over the cauterized edge. "I took a gamble that he was smart enough to be cautious. The skeleton has given him pause and makes him uncomfortable on an instinctual level, if I were to guess." Carol looked thoughtful. "Or maybe there is something oppressive about the ambient energy to his senses. Fuck it, he might just be showing the corpse reverence. I don't know." She sighed. "All that matters is the bones made him pause, and until he overcomes his trepidation we have time."

"Time for what?", Zayne questioned.

"To wait for back-up to rescue us."

Zayne didn't like the sound of that, but she didn't like the idea of moving anymore either. Zayne slumped down next to Carol against the tooth. Carol reached into the pocket of the small pack around her waist and pulled out more needle capsules rolled up in a black silicon sheet.

"And barring that," Carol said, eyeing the agitated Kaiju now stomping his rubble pile with his remaining wing, "we grow my leg back."

Carol was certainly onto something about an 'oppressive energy'. Zayne was beginning to feel claustrophobic. It felt like the air was pushing in on her. When she moved her hands she felt resistance in the air. Like wind was blowing against her skin, or they were moving through bathwater. She shuddered.

"Why did the powers that be leave the body here?" Zayne asked.

"Too big to move." Carol said flatly. "WLD removed the organic bits for study and siphoned off the bulk of the leftover energy, then buried it."

"Strange they built the sectors to reach towards the same direction of his grave.", Zayne thought out loud.

"Happy accident, that. Soil around the corpse was enriched by the groundwater which absorbed the decaying energy. Made for good farmland."

"How did you find this place, Carol?" Zayne asked, wanting to continue the distraction; although she was genuinely curious. Carol's eyes were focused on her fourth leg injection.

"I smelled it out with my alien superpowers." she responded, thoroughly nonplussed. Zayne gave her a sideways look.

"It's the truth," Carol said, "I literally cannot explain it better."

"How can you be so casual?"

"About what?"

"About our situation! About being a Warden!" Zayne said, angrier than she intended. "I understand that you get to be a normal person too, you've made that clear." Carol locked eyes with her and gave her a pensive stare. "But shouldn't you be taking this very much a Warden situation more seriously? Military discipline and composure, and all that? Maybe not drinking on the job?"

"Have I given any indication that I am losing my composure, Zayne?", Carol said flatly.

Zayne considered this. Carol injected another needle into her stump, not breaking eye contact.

"I-No…", Zayne said, feeling very small. She folded back in on herself. What was that ringing inside of her head? Carol exhaled a long breath. "Do you want me to say that I'm doing it for you, sweetie? 'I'm putting up a strong front and acting relaxed to put you at ease so you don't panic. So that I instill confidence'", she said with mock bravado. "Maybe any other day I would answer that question, or if you were a child, but any other day I haven't had my fucking leg cut off." she hissed. Zayne recoiled immediately, thrown off by the sudden outburst. Her mind dredged up a particularly sharp memory. She unconsciously braced herself for the slap. She helped you, Zayne. Stop it. The ringing increased in volume, like a coin spun on a table steadily moving closer to her. A warm hand gently grasped her wrist and slowly pulled her back to the present. She calmly twisted her arm out of the grip.

"Well there went my composure." Carol sighed. "That was…unprofessional of me. I'm sorry." She paused and chucked an empty needle at the other row of teeth lining the opposite side of the jaw. It landed with a *clink* in the center. Carol frowned and threw a second one with a bit of strength behind it. The needle shot straight into a tooth on the other side and exploded into micro-pieces of plastic shrapnel. Carol spoke again, "I don't know why I'm feeling so honest today, but I...I just cannot feel fear anymore." Now it was Zayne's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Like, nothing phases you anymore or-?" Carol interrupted, "I am physically incapable of experiencing the feeling of fright. I haven't felt scared or terrified by anything or any scenario for years now. It's making me a shitty Warden." Zayne was about to argue that, but Carol dismissed her with a wave of her hand, "It's true Zayne. I'm still in my 'prime', but my lack of self preservation had me making rookie mistakes." Carol shook her head, "and now I am ravaging my body with permanent planar scarring by artificially accelerating my healing." Zayne gaped at her.

"That's really bad I assume?", Zayne asked.

"Yes it is. Every Warden or Ranger develops planar scarring over the course of their careers," she stopped, looking thoughtful, "eh, I guess they are more like fractures…anyway, usually these don't amount to much more than aches and pains late into old age. Near the hundo-eighties I reckon." It was common knowledge that getting sent up the High Lift significantly increased lifespan, but as a history buff, it was very difficult for Zayne to reason out living so long and witnessing a couple centuries worth of change. It was the only aspect of being a Warden she envied if she was honest. "I'm forty-nine, don't tell anyone hun," Carol said with a smile. "The amount of scarring this 'healing' is going to cause me is going to end my career inside ten years." The smile settled into a very grim expression. "And it's not the first time I've done it either." That hung in the air for almost a full minute.

"What will happen to you?" Zayne asked.

"My body will become ravaged by episodes of intensely painful muscle spasms without notice. My blood will not flow where it is supposed to sometimes. That blood will become toxic with excess Extra-Planar energy my body now cannot properly filter out. I will need regular treatments to manage the ailment, as there is no way to reverse the damage I have done to myself. I will suffer the condition for the rest of my extended life." She chuckled at the irony. "It doesn't even have the decency to kill you."

Zayne stared at her boots and the last pathetic tatters of her dress. The boots were crusted over with mud, crumbs of concrete, and blood. She wiggled her toes as her feet were falling asleep. She would throw these socks away when she got home. Funny how she still assumed she was ever going home again. More funny that she was thinking about socks. She tested her shoulder and gasped. Yep, still broken. That ringing increased in volume again. She shook her head back and forth and the sound retreated a bit. Maybe she did have a head wound, or maybe her hearing was truly damaged and this was the inevitable tinnitus catching up to her. Whiplash was hissed outside the crystal skull. It was distorted by a deep gurgle. Zayne watched the Kaiju as it cautiously sniffed at the tip of one of Strife King's immense forward facing horns. Zayne couldn't help but feel a little relieved, and felt guilty for doing so. There was just something so comforting about a literal superhero that the entire sector idolized, as beautiful as she was powerful, having to face very human problems. Those problems involve a chronic illness that will make it impossible to do everyday things that you take for granted. And there was that same feeling of shame she felt earlier that day from not holding the elevator. The air pressure in the maw seemed to increase more and Zayne felt goosebumps emerge all over her body. She shook her head again. Her thoughts were getting cloudy like during one of her anxiety episodes and couldn't focus. That ringing. She needed a hospital. She looked for a rope to pull in order to center itself.

"H-how long until your leg grows back?" Zayne asked, trying for the normal casual air people typically used when referring to their amputated limbs regenerating.

"My body right now is struggling to accept the insane amounts of energy at once. Jt would ignore a trickle but not a flood. I could use my Unicorn Beam as a release valve, but I'm holding it all in. I'm probably running the equivalent of a high fever for a normal human right now. My birth body-" Carol looked away, and turned red. Zayne chose to pretend she hadn't noticed the language slip-up. "My human body defenses will soon be overcome and give way, and a new leg will burst into existence." She cleared her throat. "It will be...very, very uncomfortable for me. I may need something to bite down on."

Whiplash had now crawled over the rubble completely. He kept his head low and was pacing nnervously back and forth outside the jaw. It was mildly amusing to see what before seemed like such an enormous mass framed in-between two large sets of teeth. The creature cracked its glowing whips in visible displeasure at its situation. The sound bounced off of the walls of the cavern for almost thirty full seconds. *Crrraack* By the armpits, Zayne dragged Carol towards the back of the head towards where the godbeast's throat used to be. She couldn't help but imagine what this huge space would look like fully fleshed. What would stepping on a giant tongue feel like? This wasn't helping her current state of mind. The ringing in her head's volume was turned up steeply. She dropped Carol and squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her head. The pressure of the air now seemed to physically push her down to the ground. A hand slick with sweat took her own. "Hun, hun what's wrong? What's happening?" Carol's hand felt hot, like she was burning just under the skin. The ringing subsided from constant to increasing and lowering in volume.

"I think I-I maybe do have a head wound." Zayne said. "I hear a loud ringing, or a bell. I don't know. The air feels...tight? Like leggings but all over my body?" The monster inside her roared and drowned out the incessant buzzing. Her mind began to un-fog, giving her a temporary reprieve. She opened her eyes to see Carol's face hovering over her own. The Warden's face was stony, eyes full of concern. Sweat dripped off of her forehead.

"We'll be out of here soon hun, don't worry. Flashbang should be here any minute now. My suit beacon is activated. They will find us." Zayne wiped blood pouring from her nose. She laughed.

"What's so funny?", Carol asked.

"It's just that a nosebleed is how my day started. One woke me up." *Crack* *Crack*, Whiplash said with two twists of his tails. The cavernous jaws were briefly illuminated by blue light. The thing was gurgling again.

"It's just nice to have your day neatly bookended, you know? Symmetry." Carol's jaw slacked at that, and looked even more worried. Is worry a type of fear though?

"How about you? How is your….situation?" Zayne asked in an effort to reassure the Warden that she had a firm grip on her faculties still. Carol furrowed her brow.

"I'm starting to feel the burning. It…It is a bit more severe than last time." *Crack* *Crack*

Carol keeled over to Zayne's side. She was twitching on the ground. The skin at her stump was bubbling. Zayne grabbed Carol's hand, who responded in turn by gripping it like a vice. Zayne squeaked as one of her fingers broke. Tears welled in her eyes, but she said nothing. Just one more pain. If anything it focused her away from the battle with the ringing inside her head. *Crack* and then *Crack*. Carol was holding onto Zayne's arm like a boa constrictor. Even in her human form she is so strong. Zayne could see veins in Carol's neck bulge as she grinded her teeth. A growl rumbled in her throat.

"That young man you found…" Carol gasped. Zayne was startled, amazed that the Warden could speak. "Were you two close?" Zayne hadn't the faintest idea of who she was ref-

Brains on a stick, the monster interjected. "Oh, you mean D-Dwayne?" Zayne said, a weight growing on her chest. *Crack*

"THAT'S REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING YOU KNOW!", Carol bellowed at the kaiju. The Warden bit into her lip. Zayne could see a single drop of bronze blood slide down her chin. "Uh-uhm...No, we weren't close. I only met him today, well not even officially." Carol strengthened her hold on Zayne's hand, much to Zayne's chagrin, but she took it as an invitation to continue. "We were applying for the same job. We only waited for interviews in the same room." Zayne thought about the energetic kid bouncing on his heels. A mixture of nervousness and enthusiasm, but so bright. Then she saw the puncture in his skull, reducing him to an empty lump of meat. The light inside extinguished.

"Dwayne made an impression. He had just seemed…" Zayne wheezed, "so...vibrant.", she sobbed, back of her hand to her mouth. *Crack* *Crack* Carol squeezed her hand again.

"You said you had a bad day earlier," she grunted between clenched teeth, "I take it that the interview didn't go well." Zayne managed a dry chuckle.

"I didn't get my interview" *Crack* "the boss refused to see me."

"Why." Carol didn't ask the word, so much as drop it like a boulder between sharp breaths.

"Because, well…" tears were flowing freely down her nose. The ringing was preparing for another assault. *Crack* *Crack* "because I'm a monster." Zayne whispered.

"Tell. Me." Carol grunted. Her face was an unnatural bronze color under the skin. A vein in her forehead was close to bursting. Before Zayne could catch herself she was already recounting her whole day to the Warden. The nosebleed, the storms, the new dress she bought for the interview, the anxiety. Zayne could almost see herself in the third person telling Carol all of these things. She was bewildered at herself. And terrified. In her mind's eye she wasn't kneeling next to just Carol, an idealized image of Dynastinae, human sized, but still glorious. Then Dynastinae transformed into...someone else. A face she missed dearly. A face she could confide anything and everything to. Once the words had started coming out it was impossible to stop them. Their momentum just grew. Zayne told her about the bus ride, the build-up to the not-interview, the nasty look on Bertram's face. Don't stop. Zayne told Carol about crying in the gutter, about pissing herself, about vomiting in the street, and about her acceptance of death. And Zayne re-lived all of it, seeing the events from outside her own body. Zayne didn't stop there, she was an avalanche. She told Carol about her insecurities towards her body and personality. She told her about the fear clawing at the inside of her ribcage every single day. She told Carol about the guilt and shame associated with her family. She told her about the isolation. She even told the Warden about not holding the elevator for the stranger and how good it made her feel in the moment.

Carol didn't interrupt or comment or admonish. She just listened. Zayne wasn't sure if that was just the pain of her body being twisted by an overabundance of transdimensional energy burning all of her blood vessels at once, or if it was Carol just being polite. Either way, as the Warden gripped her hand way too hard, Zayne was grateful. It didn't make anything feel better, but saying it all out loud solidified it in the past. Zayne was no longer living in those moments; they were now history. History has consequences, but now, for the moment at least, she could grapple with it more objectively.

Zayne was beginning to tell Carol about her job and, by extension, Jackson when the screaming started. If Zayne didn't know any better, she would never have believed such a noise was human. Then again, Carol wasn't entirely human. Even Whiplash paused in its pacing at the sound. Zayne's hands hovered over her twisting and tossing body, unsure what to do or if she should be doing anything. She tore off a large piece of her raincoat by rubbing it against the serrated edge of a crystal tooth. The folded the piece over a couple times. She hesitantly grabbed the lower half of Carol's face, ignoring the pain from her broken pinky, and held it in place. She put the piece of leather up to Carol's mouth and told her to bite down. Carol did not need to be asked twice. The makeshift gag muffled the screaming to just barely tolerable. Zayne backed away to not get hit in the face by a rogue super strength enforced limb. The skin on her stump was boiling violently, and then popped. Zayne got some bronze blood on her face. A latticework of bronze was emerging rapidly from where Carol's leg used to be. It crystallized into bones. Thick liquid chords of bronze erupted next, binding around the bronze crystal formation like muscle. Carol's shrieking rose to a new pitch. Shining skin leaked from beneath the muscular folds and spread across the calf and over the knee. The skin spread up the thigh, and then down and around a fresh new foot. Toenails bubbled to the surface of the toes like wood in water. Finally the metallic skin faded and was replaced by a very human skin texture. Does she have to shave?

The screaming started to transition into growling, then moaning, dying off with some soft whimpering. Carol was gasping for breath in the dirt. She spit out the gag, which was bitten clean through. She was soaking with sweat. "I...blacked out...at some point...during the screaming." She grabbed at her body, as if to make sure nothing was missing. Her hand slowly brushed against the skin on her brand new leg and Zayne saw Carol shudder in relief. "Was...it...bad...on...your...end?," the Warden panted. Zayne began to nod, thinking of her now black and blue finger, then thought better of it and shook her head. Carol grinned. She began to stand up and Zayne rushed over to assist her. Carol held up her hand to stop her, which she did. Carol tested her weight on the new leg several times with a few lunges. She then raised her entire leg almost completely straight up from the thigh and slammed it down. The impact left a small crater in the ground. Zayne felt a thrill in her similar to when she first saw Dynastinae appear on the parkway above. Carol then lifted her foot again and did a spinning kick into one the Strife King's teeth. The top of the tooth broke off from above the point where the kick had landed. Smaller shards of crystal bone littered the ground. Carol's face split into a wide grin. From outside, either Whiplash could sense the dynamics change, or he was incensed at Carol desecrating Strife King's body, because all they heard was *Crack* *Crack* *Crack* *Crack* in quick succession. Carol bent down and picked up one of the larger pieces of bone shard. "Here, a memento for a bad day," Carol tossed the shard to Zayne. "Your own little piece of the Emperor Monster", she smirked. Zayne reached out to catch the crystal. The moment her fist closed around the piece, her brain exploded with the terrible ringing. She thought it was loud before, but she would now cut off her right hand if it meant returning to that relative paradise. Zayne collapsed. Her body convulsed wildly. She felt warm blood leaking from her nose. Gentle hands cradled her head. Over the ringing she could faintly hear Carol's voice, as though it were down a long hallway. "Zayne!? Zayne! What's happening to you? Stay with me baby, stay with me."

Zayne's awareness was sinking. Shadows were overcoming the corners of her vision.

"D-Dynastinae…" was all she could manage to mutter. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and then Zayne Gladstone died.

Death was stranger than Zayne had imagined. She had once had a dream where she died. She had been a passenger on an airbus. The destination wasn't important. The pilot told the passengers that he had decided that the most reasonable way to avoid the turbulence ahead was to crash the airbus into the ground. Zayne recalled being upset at the decision but she had understood it in that strange dream logic sort of way. It was only seconds before the crash that Zayne came to her senses and realized that the pilot was going to kill all of them. One flash of light and heat later Zayne found herself on an abandoned craft. The carriage was completely vacant. The stillness was tangible, as if she were frozen in time. She snapped her fingers but there was no sound. In a way she was frozen in time. The meta-knowledge only dreams could give a person informed her of the situation. The force of the collision had knocked her consciousness out of sync with her body, and it needed time to catch up with her dead body. Sure enough, time slowly began to tick forward and she could see terrain passing the windows. She ran towards the back of the carriage in vain, but once again was greeted with light and heat. Then she was in a pitch black void. She could feel all of her memories and experiences trailing behind her like streamers. She was acutely aware of the streamers being absorbed into the darkness. As they did she could feel herself forget. Not in any physical sense but feel in the way you feel things within the knot at the center of your brain. Soon all she was left with was that knot and a dead name. The knot was acutely aware that it would be alone in the cold black until the end of all things. The memory of that dream still haunted her sometimes late at night.

Blessedly, this was not that. Zayne wasn't sure this death was any better though, it was too early to tell. The darkness was there, yes, but it wasn't blackness. It was the color of the night sky, faintly tinged purple by atmosphere. Or maybe the deep ocean where light tangled with the shadows of the abyss. She raised her hands to her face. She could see them. There wasn't any source of light though. But there her hands were, an unbroken pinky included. That seemed about right. Why would your expelled soul have physical injuries?

Perhaps the ocean was a more apt comparison, because Zayne was floating. She stretched out her naked arms and felt them move through fluid. No broken collar bone either. The liquid around wasn't hot or cold. it was just...neutral she supposed.. She panicked and gasped when realizing air was a thing that humans needed. No bubbles came from her mouth, but fluid came rushing in. She braced herself for her lungs to burn in a very different way than she was used to. The sensation of having the fluid fill her lungs was...relief. Strange to feel a positive emotion post mortem. She let her body relax and drifted in the liquid. She naturally took to breathing the fluid, surprisingly. It felt very different from conventional breathing, yes, but each breath was more satisfying. Like if every time she took a breath of oxygen she could consciously feel the blood oxygenating every individual part of her body as it happened. So far this wasn't too bad. But is there anywhere for me to go? The thought did not come from inside her head but instead vibrated in the liquid around her. Zayne decided to just roll with it. At least that proved she could hear things in this place.

She had no sense of up or down inside this liquid space. Human bodies, Zayne knew, were naturally buoyant. She did not feel herself rising however, nor was she sinking. Zayne picked a random direction and just started swimming. Pleasing to know that swimming worked. With no point of reference to see, she couldn't determine if she was making any kind of progress but it was something. Before long she had heard a familiar tone. She stopped in place. It was actually very familiar and Zayne was frustrated she couldn't place it. The tone unfolded into distinct rhythms, rising and lowering in pitch. Realization struck her like one of Whiplash's tails. It's that infernal ringing from inside my head! the water around Zayne vibrated at her. It was so bizarre. She felt like she knew each upcoming note before it rang but at the same time it was as if she were hearing the song for the first time.

And it was a song.

Nothing like the mind splitting buzz or whine from before. This melody was both resplendent and subtle. Somehow it struck a perfect balance between being hopeful and melancholic. The awful noise from pre-death flowered into rose and Zayne wanted to wrap herself up in its petals. She began humming to the song and as she snapped in sync with the rhythm the impression of molten gold ribbons danced before her. No, it was more than an impression, she could perceive the golden lines dancing and twisting around each other. But it wasn't quite sight either. Something in-between. Zayne considered the conundrum, trying to find some hook or ledge to latch on to that would help her comprehend. The liquid around her began to vibrate as she tried to parse out the Gordian's knot of perception. In the end she realized she didn't care and tossed the problem away. She just kept humming along with the music and bathing in the warmth that the impressions of gold radiated through the fluid. As the music grew louder she felt her chest balloon in both elation and anticipation, though she had no clue as to what she was anticipating. This wasn't just a song, was a symphony comprised of a thousand shifting parts. Zayne, still humming, was one of them now. It occurred to her that in this moment she felt better than she had in, what? A decade? She could get used to being dead. The music stopped and then the eye opened.

Zayne had seen a lot of big things that day. So many big things she was running out superlatives to describe their extraordinary enormity. Simply put, the pale orange eye was rather large. All of the very big things Zayne had seen today could fit inside the shine on its pupil. She still didn't know where light was coming from down here. All of Resilience City could fit right into the pupil. The pupil itself stretched horizontally like that of a frog. Looking at the eye, Zayne imagined that this was what Earth looked like from atop High Lift. Or maybe even from Nibiru itself. If Zayne were alive, she might perseverate about how from that perspective she would be very high up. But she was dead, and it was fine. The eyeball was so very much huge that Zayne couldn't visibly tell if it was actually focused on her. She was a grain of sand to his eye lens. She could perceive that it was though. In the same way she could perceive the dancing golden bands without them being in front of her face. If the creature blinked right now would the displacement of liquid force her backward a million miles? The entire "ocean" around her vibrated around her in a deep bass sound. It stopped and then vibrated twice more in succession. It was the owner of the eyeballs voice. If she could describe it to another person she might compare it to a deep whale call distorted through a subwoofer. It was a shame that Goblin Shark almost ate most of the whales left on Earth. Good that Dynastinae killed him. Dynastinae...Zayne hoped she would be alright. But now that Zayne was dead she guessed that meant Carol had sacrificed the rest of her life to disability for no reason. This made her feel very sad.

The deep sound came again three more times, louder this time. It wasn't sound so much as raw, unrestrained, naked power. She could feel the vibrations resonate in the nuclei of every individual cell in her body. If the entity altered its pitch in any direction, the soundwaves would pull Zayne apart molecule by molecule. That was the second thing on display here. Not just power, but the fine control of that power down the most minute level. She could sense the thing regulating every variance in the tune as they occurred. It would be very intimidating if Zayne weren't dead. Careful Zayne, God can still hurt you if you are dead, vibrated around her head. Oh right, no private thoughts here. Shit, she thought at herself. But her monster had succinctly acknowledged the so very much extremely large elephant in the room, albeit unintentionally.

Are you God? Zayne thought at the Being. Loudly she hoped, and was pleased when the vibrations of the thought intensified. The eye thing made no response. She heard other noises now. They sounded like massive steel beams being bent, the creaks being magnified by a factor of one hundred.

Oh.

It was the rest of the Entity's body shifting beneath her in the inky darkness. Or around her, rather. It would be silly if the thing was just a disembodied eye floating in fluidic space. Duh.

Zayne was getting the distinct impression that the thing wasn't coming down to converse with her on anything approaching her level. Was that actually an organic impression she had formed on her own or had the Being communicated that to her somehow?

Is there something you need from me? Are you judging or weighing my sins or something? She thought at the Thing. No response. Zayne wasn't annoyed or frustrated, she was just curious.

Can I do something for you? The Entity's eye shimmered. Zayne looked deep into the black of the pupil and saw a tapestry of golden stars. An entire cosmos within the disc of an eye. One of the stars flared brighter and shot towards Zayne. It pierced right through her sternum. Zayne felt nothing but shock at first. Then...something was replaced. Nothing like her kidneys or liver. There wasn't any pain. She was just keenly cognizant that something was different. Not wrong, just different. Something was exchanged deep within the marrow of her bones. Deeper still inside of her cellular walls. A seed was planted in that place. What was pulled out manifested in Zayne's perception as several lines of the same four golden letters repeating in an inscrutable pattern.

The letters T, A, G, and C.

There was something important about those specific letters in the context of a living thing. Which Zayne of course was no longer, right? She could half remember from high-school. They represented something instrumental in regards to your body make up. She must know otherwise they would not have manifested in a form she could perceive. DNA? the monster offered helpfully. Zayne suddenly wasn't feeling so great and carefree. The letters began to dissolve away in the fluid and she desperately reached for them. There had never been anything tangible there to begin with. Wait. No! I want that back! Please! she pleaded with the Entity. The last of the golden letters began dissolving and Zayne perceived a dramatic *sizzle* noise as the last corner was eaten up by the fluidic space. 'Different' was suddenly very, very bad.

The eye shut as suddenly as it had opened. Zayne was not knocked back a million miles backwards, but right now she didn't really care. What did you do to me!? the vibrations boomed around her. Come back! I'm not really dead am I!? Reverse whatever the fuck you did! Zayne was given three very distinct impressions at once. One of interminable bemusement. A second that implied that this particular audience was over. And a third that implied...despair of all things. An endless sea of mourning made liquid as dark as the night sky. Grief so intense and profound it transformed into matter. And that matter became a shroud to hide from the predatory light that had consumed their children. Such pain.

Hm. Well I got nothing. her monster thought at her. And then that pain became real for Zayne. Electricity arced between her limbs and her entire body shuddered in agony. She could see her legs begin to dissolve in the fluid much like the letters from before. Zayne was suddenly alive again. It was very loud where she was, and she was still in agony.

Carol was pressing down on Zayne's chest with both hands. Sparks of static energy flickered around them. Paralyzed by pain she let out a soft moan and the active electrocution stopped. The echoes of pain still shot up and down her nerve endings but it was gradually subsiding. What was all that loud crashing and scraping? And why was it so dark? *Crack* Oh right, that one. It sounded like Whiplash had gone completely wild and was now tearing the skeleton apart,

"Oh my God, hun." Carol exclaimed. She cupped Zayne's face. "I thought I lost you. Your heart stopped and I had to improv defib you." That sounded very risky to Zayne, but given the circumstances it seemed was the only option. Other than leaving Zayne dead of course. It was actually kind of nice where I just was actually? Wasn't it? she thought. She couldn't retrieve the details yet, but a pang of longing pulled at her that was completely novel. Fragments of the strange dream she had just had whirled around in her mind, like puzzle pieces in a windstorm. She was able to catch some and piece them together but…

Carol pried one of Zayne's eyes open with two fingers. "What do you see, Zayne?"

"Two fingers." she responded. Carol moved the fingers to every corner of her field of view. "Do you hear anything hun, inside your head that is?" Zayne, to her shock, heard nothing at all. Just her own turbulent thoughts, un-harrassed.

"No. It's quiet now." Zayne croaked. "Why is it dark now? What have I missed?" Carol had taken her scarred wrist and was feeling her pulse. The Warden's eyes widened as they traced the outline of the jagged scar stretching from Zayne's wrist to the crook of her arm. An awkward moment passed where neither said anything. Zayne was too exhausted to feel anymore embarrassed, but still she carefully tugged her arm free of the woman's grasp.

"A-After you passed out", Carol said, visibly uncomfortable "the skeleton's residual energy decided to all vanish and the bone glow winked out. Not dissipated, but vanished. Like a light switch. Here one second then gone the next. That should not be possible. Carol rubbed at her own eyes. "I think I might have fucked something up when I cracked the tooth. Maybe." Zayne sat up against what she took to be the underside of a giant vertebrae. Hard to tell in the dim light. No, wait...The picture was becoming clearer, like the brightness was turned up on a wall screen. Definitely a vertebrae. The air did feel much less suffocating than before. The sound of scraping and crashing increased, along with some very wet snarls. "The instant the energy disappeared and the glow went out Whiplash charged the skull. I booked it and shoulder carried you deeper in before he could squeeze in between the jaws. Now he's tearing the place apart." Zayne heard a large chunk of something break against another something. No more reservations about the skeleton at all apparently. Carol smiled. "It's okay though. Now that you are awake everything is going to be peachy. You are safe now, Zayne." Zayne looked around at the quaking subterranean skeleton, which oddly enough did not seem so vast as before. Huh.

"What makes you say we are safe?" Zayne asked, as cracks formed in the ground.

"Because I have my leg back. Now I'm going to go kill that fucking thing." Carol's smile widened and Zayne saw savage determination in the Warden's eyes. "And I'm going to make it very, very messy."

"Shouldn't we just wait for back up?" Zayne asked breathlessly.

"No." Carol cracked her neck. "Flashbulb is probably topside by now, but by the time he finds us Whiplash will have first."

"B-but the energy whips...they'll slice through you again." Zayne responded desperately. She was looking for any excuse for the Warden to stay and not leave her alone down here. *Crack* *Crack* "I have a plan for that, hun." Zayne cocked her head. Carol went on,

"Do you remember up above when you shouted that warning to me and it seemed like I popped out of existence for a moment?" Zayne nodded her head. "You were just looking at the wrong place. Before I disappeared I made a subtle movement to the left. Mid fidget I reverted to human size and let the momentum from my maximized form throw me that direction." Zayne had never seen a Warden transform mid fight before. It was actually really clever

"That's...so cool." Zayne whispered and looked down, suddenly feeling embarrassed again. Carol laughed. "Wow, good to know I can still be hip with the kids. I was worried about my merch sales stagnating for being out of fashion."

"Why doesn't every Warden utilize form shifting in a fight?", Zayne asked, looking up. Carol's face abruptly darkened. *Crack*

"Because form shifting is stressful on the body. Almost all conventional planar scarring Wardens receive over their careers are from form shifting. Doing it a lot in combat is an expressway to sitting behind desks for the rest of your very long career", she said while stretching her shoulders back.

Zayne reached for Carol's hand. "Please don't do it," she said, blinking away more tears. "All the stimulants you just took...you will ruin yourself. Use the Unicorn Beam" *Crack* Their shelter was illuminated with a pale blue light from the other side of the bone. Carol stood. "I can't fire that down here and risk sinking a building from up above." She sighed. "We are out of time Zayne." Zayne looked down again.

"I don't want you to do this for me." she sobbed.

"I'm not doing it just for you, hun. I've been thinking for months now that it might be time for me to hang up the saddle. Take it easy for a while," Her face was calm, resigned to whatever was about to happen. But what about the pain? Zayne didn't say. Carol's body shifted to bronze, her hair growing out into the mane from before. Her clothes vanished, replaced by glittering skin and an Olympian figure. A beetle's horn formed from her scalp, crowning her. Carol became a god again. Or goddess, more accurately. These forms only vaguely suggested gender. Claws raked against the topside of the bone. It sounded like silverware scraping a dinner plate.

"You're lucky, hun." Dynastinae said, ruffling Zayne's hair. Her voice was now layered over top of itself in that strange, alien way. "You get to see my retirement bout. I'll give you front row seats."

Dynastinae became giant-sized and lifted the entire backbone up off the ground. Zayne tucked her face into her elbow as dust erupted everywhere. Whiplash slid off of the bone and hit the ground thrashing in surprise. Dynastinae dropped the crystal bone on him and it cracked in half. Coughing, and then smarting at her own tender ribs, Zayne realized she was still gripping the shard Carol tossed her earlier tight in her fist. She felt the hard edge digging into her skin, but tension had fully seized her and she just could not relax her grip as she watched Dynastinae fight. Whiplash reeled on the ground. He swept his tails around across the ground, going for the Warden's ankles. She jumped and the tendrils whooshed under like a skip-rope. It had left one tendril right underneath her though and shot it up as Dynastinae was coming down.

"No!" Zayne shouted. Dynastinae pivoted mid-air just in time to avoid vivisection, but the whip scored a grazing blow on her shoulder. Dynastinae landed with a grunt, holding her shoulder. Whiplash launched himself from the ground into the Warden. Dynastinae folded onto her back as the kaiju bit into her throat with what was left of her mouth. It was drooling ichor all over her.

"Please...no." Zayne said to no one. Bands of fear tightened around her. She was shaking uncontrollably with anxiety and adrenaline. She managed to lay herself on her side and curled into a ball. Like before on the curb. She was out of tears now. She began to pray. She didn't know to whom. Maybe that big eye thing she suddenly remembered from her dream. Was he nice? She couldn't recall right now.

Dynastinae kicked upwards with both feet. Whiplash rolled backward. Dynastinae rose up, bronze blood now mixing with purple, resembling the sheen of an oil slick. The Warden wiped the blood off her, spraying it in Whiplash's face. In that moment of the kaiju's disorientation, Dynastinae did a spinning kick, bowling Whiplash over. The tails all exploded to life. They shot forward at Dynastinae from every angle. There was a loud popping noise. The tails passed through empty air. Whiplash grumbled in confusion. Then Dynastinae appeared underneath him, piercing his chest with her horn. The beast started squawking frantically. Why is it so determined to kill her? Zayne thought. Its half dead, and in horrible pain. What could possibly be driving it? Has it gone insane?

The tendrils were suddenly everywhere at once. Zayne couldn't even make out individual strands. The light was almost beautiful. Dynastinae had already vanished though with another *pop*. She reappeared above Whiplash's head for a pile driver, but disappeared again. The world became a battlefield of sound. A war between the cracks of the kaiju's whips, and the pops of air rushing in to fill a space a Warden once filled. She felt every one in her chest. Dynastinae was a dancer in the sphere of whipping lights. She kept vanishing and reappearing less than seconds apart, trying to get close enough to land a blow. She would reappear in a stunning twist, or disappear with a split second back flip. This wasn't a fight, it was ballet. Dynastinae was an artist as she weaved around the spinning lights. And this is to be her final performance, Zayne thought, feeling her energy sap again. Still she watched. Dynastinae may have been an artist, but no artist is flawless. As she kept reappearing, Zayne could see more and more angry burns from where Whiplash had just grazed her. It broke up the flawless, gleaming, bronze skin with ghastly patches of angry red. She's at her limit. She needs to win soon. And then the fight was over.

Simultaneously all the lit tails went out and collapsed. Whiplash's body crumpled to the ground in a cloud of dust. It happened so quickly that Zayne didn't fully register what had happened. There Dynastinae stood. Her statuesque form was covered in violet gore and vicious burns. But she stood anyway, tall and proud like a beacon, breathing heavily. Zayne's heart swelled. She won! Zayne thought But how? Dynastinae was standing where Whiplash's head used to be. It clicked immediately, and she marveled at the boldness. The Warden had minimized herself while moving in the direction of the creature's mouth and the maximized her size from within Whiplash's throat. Her eyes widened. That takedown would be world famous, the stuff of legends even, had anyone else been around to see it. Zayne exalted in the fact that she had been privileged to witness this. Zayne wanted to shout and cheer, but she was just now very aware of how tired she was. The adrenaline fueling, which had been pumping constantly all night, was taking its toll. "Yay, you did it!", Zayne managed to say weakly. She offered a clap but winced when she touched her broken finger.

"I...didn't...get the chance...to shout out...the special...move name." Carol said, through labored breaths. Her voice filled the entire cavern in her giant form."You know...for the...toy licensers…"

"What were you going to name it?", Zayne asked, eyes growing heavy.

"Scarab...Swarm."

Zayne started to laugh, even though she was unsure if Dynastinae was making a joke or not. Zayne laid back down, and fidgeted with the dim crystal shard. Her head resting on the hard ground, she fell asleep.