The roar quaked through the shattered region of the lost city. It hammered at Mickie’s ears like a physical force, triggering some long buried instincts. His hind brain was telling him that whatever it was making that noise, it was trouble, more trouble than he could handle. Ziz had straightened at the sound, peering over the tops of ruined buildings towards the city centre.

  From the ground nearby there came a wailing scream. Mickie glanced down to discover the recently collapsed lost curled up in the fetal position, holding his head as he cried. When the noise eventually faded, it was replaced by another sound. A distant boom, one followed by another, and another.

  ‘We need to go see what’s happening.’

  Mickie said, speaking over the rhythmic thumping. To his surprise, Kalistra did not agree immediately. Instead she hesitated, seeming unwilling to leave the runes they had exposed.

  ‘But, I… this could be important too…’

  Kalistra had once worked with these symbols as something called a Transcriber, and was easily distracted by fancy rune carvings. Even with a giant monster on approach, she was reluctant to turn away. Mickie made a snap decision.

  ‘Alright. You stay here then, I’ll go take a look at what’s happening.’

  He paused, a thought occuring.

  ‘And keep an eye on this one. He might have more to say.’

  Mickie waved to the collapsed lost, then spun on his heel, waving an arm at Ziz.

  ‘Any chance for a lift bud?’

  The primordial gave an affirming squawk, stretching its long neck towards the branded man. He reached up and wrapped an arm around the back of the big bird’s head. Mickie and Miz-Mag were lifted into the air, Ziz depositing the pair just above the beginning of its wings.

  ‘Goodbye Kali.’

  It projected, receiving a distracted wave in response. Kalistra was already squatting before the exposed runes, tracing them with a finger. Ziz took to the air, pumping its wings to gain height as the rhythmic booming grew ever louder.

  Anxious as Mickie was to see what was happening with the lost, he could not help but marvel at the sight below. From above the city appeared more uniform than ever. Every block appeared perfectly square, with an equal number of buildings and green spaces. The only change came from their orientation, shifting the position of the plant life from one corner to another. As they ascended even higher, Mickie began to see a symmetry to it all. The perfectly straight streets divided the city into segments which reflected one another.

  Only the destroyed region stood out, like a tear in an otherwise perfectly folded piece of paper. Mickie had been wondering what could have done that to such a large swathe of the city. Now though, he was convinced he could hear the answer, crashing closer through the pipes below.

  Still some distance from the cavern roof, Ziz reached the city centre and began to circle. Below them, on the open space surrounding the hole, the lost were gathering. They stood together in neat rows, grouped by the roles they performed. Mickie saw the mining lost, still stationary in their rigid lines, the flower gatherers, whose lines had more gaps than even their digging comrades. There were cleaners, maintainers, gardeners, and so many other roles about which Mickie knew nothing. Hundreds of lost, with more streaming in from every street connected to the circular centre.

  The flow of haggard mortals began to lessen around the same time the approaching creature ceased its cacophonous run. The trio in the sky all glanced into the hole with expectation, but nothing was visible. Whatever had been approaching the city, it elected to stay out of sight. Around the hole the last of the lost were settling into their orderly lines.

  They stood like zombies in a military parade, silent, unmoving, and staring at their own feet. Mickie noted that gaps remained in the flower gathering ranks, and he was reminded of the lost who had tripped earlier. The question he had been on the verge of asking then came to him again, alongside its answer.

  If one of the city’s occupants died, what did that mean for the role that they filled? It meant that the job would go unfinished. Ziz twisted in the air, aligning them with the nearby ruined section. Forming a straight line from that area to the city centre, there was a large break in the rows of lost. As if something had damaged their formation just as it had ruined the city.

  From below there came a sudden rumbling, a sound Mickie recognised as the churn of heavy machinery. The trio looked down to find holes opening up on the sides of the massive pipe. Four equidistant panels slid aside, and something began to pour out. It was like liquid metal, only shining with silver light.

  There came another roar from within the pipe’s depths as a heavy scent of iron filled the air. It smelled somewhat like the flower field, just without the sweet hint of cinnamon. The scent clued Mickie into the substance’s origin, making him recall the balls of liquid atop the flowers. Those had been a shifting mix of silver and blue. He was next to certain it was the former liquid now pouring into the open hole.

  Even with the realisation, the quantities involved seemed staggering. Silver ran in a torrent into the pipe, well beyond what was contained within a few flower beads. As the waterfalls slowed, Mickie wondered at how long it had taken the lost to gather that much liquid. From deep within the hole, there came a loud rumble. Not quite the roar from earlier, but a deeper sound, one that carried on until the liquid stopped flowing and the outlets resealed.

  Then, finally, there was silence. Ziz continued to circle as the lost held their broken rows. Cautiously, the branded man reached out a hand and prodded the big bird in its long neck.

  ‘Hey bud, could you take us down?’

  He asked, and pointed to the empty platform at the hole’s edge, one of the only spots that was free of the lost. Ziz grumbled an agreement and dove, nearly blowing over some of the nearby lost as it slowed for landing. Mickie dismounted the first moment he was able, grateful for the chance to stretch out his legs.

  ‘What do you reckon’ they’re standing around for?’

  Miz-Mag asked softly, the little fiend’s voice tense as it examined the rows of haggard humans.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  Mickie muttered in response.

  ‘Seems odd they would take the time off work without reason though.’

  Clap.

  Without warning and in perfect synchronisation, every single lost brought their hands up, and slammed them together. The resulting sound almost hurt Mickie’s ears.

  Clap.

  They did it again, then again. A chorus of claps at increasing speed, but in perfect harmony.

  ‘What is happening!’

  Ziz cried, hunching low and huddling behind Mickie. The young primordial flinch with each piercing slap of the hands. It was so loud it reminded the branded man of a couple concerts he had gone to, though without the shouting. Metal fans could be noisy, and their applause even more so. Mickie started at the thought, glancing out at the orderly crowd. Hundreds of people, clapping together like this.

  ‘They’re applauding!’

  He shouted. As strange as it sounded, that was the only thing which made sense. If the point were to make pure noise, then there would be other ways to do so. Methods more effective than gathering a few thousand people together and having them clap.

  ‘By the blood kid! I think you’re right. They must have appreciated your flying, bird brain.’

  Miz-Mag said, jumping from Mickie’s shoulder to Ziz’s head. The primordial squeaked and sunk lower to the ground.

  ‘Well I do not like it.’

  As if in response, the applause came to a sudden stop. Every pair of hands in the open area parted, and stayed that way. There came a momentary pause, like the breath of silence in which they might have thanked the crowd for coming out. Then without further fanfare, every single one of the lost, including the otherwise stationary digging crew, turned and left for the city.

  The trio watched them go in perplexed silence. The ragged figures did not immediately return to their usual tasks. Instead, from what Mickie could see, they began filing into the identical buildings. The streets gradually emptied until the city appeared entirely vacant of life. It was not a rapid process, giving the trio of observers time to break past their stunned silence.

  ‘Welp, if I wasn’t creeped out before that definitely did the job.’

  Miz-Mag commented dryly.

  ‘Yes, I preferred the quiet ones when they were quiet.’

  Ziz ruffled its feathers and straightened. Mickie placed a consoling hand on the primordial’s neck.

  ‘Yeah, this place just keeps getting weirder. I wonder what all that was for?’

  He meandered over to the large hole, looking into its depths. He now saw that the traces of silver at the bottom were small puddles of the liquid. Ziz joined him, craning its long neck over the edge to give Miz-Mag a look.

  ‘You noticed it was flower juice, right kid?’

  The little demon asked. Mickie nodded.

  ‘Yep. Not sure why they’re dumping it though.’

  ‘And if that's the silver stuff, then what are they doing with the blue bits? Also, how come this stuff stays good? Whenever I poked a flower the colours always died off.’

  Miz-Mag raised some good questions, none of which Mickie had answers to. The branded man turned towards the city, watching the lost as they disappeared inside.

  ‘I think we need to snag one of those processing machines, maybe right before it's emptied into that thing.’

  He nodded towards the platform's lone steel pedestal.

  ‘If we pull one apart maybe Kalistra can see how it works.’

  ‘Hmm, yes, the snake does have her uses on occasion.’

  Miz-Mag snarked, seeming to forget upon whose head it was perched. Ziz, noting the disrespect to its partner, flicked its long neck like a whip. The little demon screamed a curse as it sailed through the air, landing with an oomph in Mickie’s outstretched hand. It wasted no time, getting right to hurling insults.

  ‘Damned overgrown chicken! I’ll pluck you like the bird you are!’

  Expression should have been difficult with a beak, but somehow Ziz managed to smirk at the screeching fiend. Mickie sighed, waiting until Miz-Mag cooled off before placing it on his shoulder.

  ‘If you’re going to insult someone, then at least do it to their face.’

  He said, as the demon sulked. The three of them continued to bicker and watch until all the lost had disappeared from view. It was strange to see the city streets so empty, well lit like it was the place looked like a ghost town. Mickie shook off the eerie feeling and turned to his companions.

  ‘Well, I suppose we should head back and see what Kalistra's up to.’

  They all agreed, but before the branded man could hop atop Ziz, the lights went out. In an instant, the city went from lit up in a facsimile of a sunny day, to pitch black. Mickie’s mind spun for a moment, panic at the sudden loss of sight. From right in front of him there came a panicked screech.

  ‘Ziz? You alright?’

  ‘Cannot see! I cannot see!’

  The avian stuttered the words out in alarm, its control over the air shaky.

  ‘Same here kid. Someone turned out the lights.’

  Miz-Mag had a strong grip on his ear, keeping itself planted in place. Mickie fished out his orb lamp and light spilled onto the steel platform. Even with his improved eyes it seemed weak compared to the illumination from above. Ziz was reared up, glancing about frantically. It saw them and let out a whistling sigh.

  ‘Must be bedtime.’

  Mickie commented as the trio got their bearings. Miz-Mag chuckled nervously from atop his shoulder.

  ‘I’ll say. You’d think they’d leave a night light on or something.’

  ‘Yes, it is too dark. We should go find Kali.’

  Ziz sounded concerned. They only had a single lamp between the four of them, and it was currently in Mickie’s hands. Their gorgon companion was currently stranded without a light.

  ‘Yeah bud, you’re right. We can make more plans once the lights are back on.’

  Before he could mount Ziz however, there came a snuffling rumble. It reminded Mickie of the sound some dogs made when they sniffed and dug at the earth. The trio froze, turning slowly towards the expansive hole beside their steel platform. The noise continued, punctuated by the occasional echoing thud.

  Mickie shared a look with Miz-Mag and Ziz, before turning to the hole. That sound did not have the tinny echo of those before. Whatever had made it was close, potentially even within sight. Mickie found himself stepping slowly towards the platform’s edge, Ziz creeping alongside him. None of them could resist the chance to steal a look.

  They halted before the black expanse, deep enough that even Mickie’s improved eyes could not see the bottom. The branded man leant forward, and held out his circular lamp, shining it straight into the shadowy abyss. Something shifted at the bottom. He saw it move, an absolutely massive shape, nearly as wide as the pipe itself. Its body was a shifting amalgamation of dark shadows, indistinct and unrecognizable.

  The monster moved, and something caught the light of Mickie’s lamp, glinting up at him. A massive pair of bloodshot eyes. Before the branded man could react, there was another set of eyes, then another. A grumbling bellow shook steel beneath their feet, and one of the shadows attached to the monster arced up through the dark. Mickie caught sight of a titanic hand right before it crashed into the side of the pipe.

  The impact shook the world like an earthquake, and the branded man staggered back from the hole to avoid slipping in. There came another bellow, and the cavern quaked anew. Mickie realised with horror, that the sounds were getting closer. The monster was climbing the pipe.

  ‘Time to go!’

  He shouted, crouching low to avoid tripping over. Ziz, wide eyed and panicked, squawked in agreement. The primordial hunched low as it spun, giving Mickie the opportunity to leap atop its long neck. As Ziz ran for the far edge of the platform, flapping its wings, the branded man threw a glance over his shoulder. He was just in time to see a massive arm rise out of the expansive hole.

  ‘By the blood!’

  Miz-Mag screamed as the looming hand fell towards them like toppled redwood. Ziz hit the edge of the platform and leapt into the air, darting right between the tips of two meaty fingers. Mickie caught a glimpse of coarse hair coating a misshapen section of body before they were away, the beast rumbling behind them.

  Ziz beat its wings like a hummingbird, desperately clawing for altitude as the monster pulled itself free. On the primordial’s back, Mickie held his lamp aloft, though there was little they could collide with in the air. It did provide him with enough light to see the outline of the beast however. It emerged from the hole, rising up, and up, and up, until it loomed even above the dark city.

  Mickie saw the glint of eyes tracking him and his companions, bloodshot and full of rage. Arms emerged from the darkness, three, then seven, then thirteen. Too many to count, boiling out from the monster's shadowed body like the tentacles of a sea beast. Ziz flew like its tail was on fire, ducking, weaving and spinning through the massive appendages.

  Mickie and Miz-Mag clung on desperately to the primordial’s back as it maneuvered. The world became a twisting blur of shadowy shapes, and gut wrenching movement. Unable to tell up from down, all the branded man could do was track the monster by its booming footsteps.

  ‘Climb! You need to climb!’

  He screamed at their avian companion.

  ‘Get above its reach!’

  Ziz did not respond, for all Mickie knew that was exactly what it had been doing. He did notice more arms swinging into view however, the jaws of a titanic trap clasing about them. The young primordial became ever more frantic, until finally, they burst into open air. Ziz cawed a victorious screech as it levelled out, and was answered by a roar from below. Mickie could see the arms of the monster reaching into the sky, like a forest of shifting trees. Grasping for prey that was out of reach.

  The monster’s body was a dark outline of sharp edges and lumpen flesh, furious eyes glinting in the faint light. Mickie marvelled at its size, bigger than half the caverns they had passed through on the journey here. So large that even his improved eyes could see it in full, the lamp light was just not strong enough.

  ‘By the blood, bird brain. That was some serious flying.’

  Miz-Mag sounded winded, as if it had been the one who evaded an angry giant.

  ‘We aren’t home safe yet.’

  Mickie said, as the monster growled in frustration and fury. He gave Ziz a pat on the neck.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  ‘See if you can’t set us down on one of the lights.’

  The bird rumbled in acknowledgement and continued to build altitude. Above the branded man could see the outline of the titanic lights that normally illuminated the city. They dangled just beneath the domed ceiling of the cave. If he remembered correctly from his initial observation, each light sloped up to a point on the back, but the base had a suitable lip upon which they could perch.

  As they gained altitude the beast quieted in its rage, no longer roaring up at them. The innumerable arms pulled back to its body, leaving only the occasional glimpse of bloodshot sclera. Ziz landed, scrambling at the sloped side of the light with such force it began to sway from side to side. The primordial's powerful rear legs caught on the lip, providing enough purchase for it to steady.

  Once the rocking had slowed and Ziz was calm, Mickie dismounted. There was about a meter of flat surface between the slope and the open air, plenty in which he could safely huddle. For Ziz however, a meter was a bit of an ask, and the avian set the light shaking another few times before it was settled.

  Eventually Miz-Mag finished cursing the primordial for its final bout of gut wrenching movement, and the trio fell into an uneasy silence. Some distance beneath them the giant monster had returned to just a lumpy outline. They could hear it moving about, echoing booms punctuated by the rending of steel.

  ‘Hey bud.’

  Mickie said, a question coming to him that he should have posed far earlier.

  ‘How’s Kalistra going? She get clear of that thing?

  Ziz shifted its head, a single bronze eye glinting in the lamplight.

  ‘Yes, she is safe. I flew away from her when we ran, and the creature followed.’

  Mickie nodded. He had not been too worried about Kalistra. The gorgon was no fool, and when things had started to go crazy, she had doubtless been watching through her partner’s eyes. There was a slight pressure on the branded man’s shoulder as Miz-Mag jumped free. The little fiend scampered to the light’s edge.

  ‘So that’ll be a new bit of the city the big fella is squashing flat then?’

  Ziz shifted its head to join the demon in looking down.

  ‘Yes.’

  Was all the avian said in response. Mickie sighed and leant back against the big light’s sloped side. His head thudded against the hard metal as he glared up at the thick cord connecting it to the ceiling. The branded man tried to run through the events they had witnessed, attempting to parse some meaning from them.

  Beginning with the synchronised applause, and ending with a monster chasing them through a darkened city. It all seemed so nonsensical. What had they done to attract the beast’s ire? Had it somehow smelt them?

  For that matter, why did the big guy only come into view when the lights were off? It seemed to eat the silvery flower extract, so surely it made sense to come into view when the waterfalls switched on. Mickie spun his orb lamp around in his hand, watching the light play off his fingers, when realisation struck. He called softly to his two companions.

  ‘Hey, you two, get back from the edge.’

  ‘What why? You scared I’m gonna fall off kid?’

  Miz-Mag said, casting him a smug look over its shoulder.

  ‘I used to climb about the Evergaol you know, don’t you remember how we met?’

  ‘Yeah I don’t doubt your monkey-like abilities, but I’m going to turn the lamp off, and not even a monkey can manage without light.’

  He replied dryly.

  ‘Turn off the light? You want me to fall or something?’

  Miz-Mag took a few quick steps away from the edge. Ziz though, seemed less concerned about the drop as it was of the light.

  ‘You want the dark again? Why?’

  ‘Just a thought about the big guy that I want to give a spin.’

  Mickie said, petting the avian on its folded wing.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Miz-Mag muttered. ‘What kinda thought?’

  ‘That it was the lamp which lured the monster out of the pipe.’

  The branded man raised the orb, drawing all eyes to it.

  ‘Even now, the big guy is hanging around nearby. Almost like it's keeping an eye on us.’

  With a flick of the wrist Mickie tossed the ball of light, catching it before dropping his arm back to his side.

  ‘Not only that, but it didn’t even come out into the open until the lights were off. Seems like something that’s worth testing.’

  He finished, raising an eyebrow at his companions. The pair were reluctant, but saw the logic in what he was saying and acquiesced. With a press the light blinked out, plunging the cavern into absolute darkness.

  The reaction from beneath them was instantaneous, the beast making an overlapping chorus of grunts. The sounds of it shuffling about rose for a time, before the creature stopped moving entirely. Mickie might not be able to see his companions, but he could feel them, Miz-Mag perched on his knee and Ziz’s neck against his hand. They were just as tense as he was.

  Absolute silence reigned for a long few minutes. Mickie had begun to wonder if the monster had gone to sleep when it finally shifted. There came the creak of steel and the shifting of something vast. Heavy footsteps thudded through the cave, followed by booming as the monster descended back into the pipe.

  The sounds of its exit gradually faded away until they stopped entirely. About a minute passed before Miz-Mag released a long, tense chuckle.

  ‘Well I’ll be, you were on the money kid.’

  Mickie nodded, then realised no one could see him do so.

  ‘Luckily. Who knows what could have happened if it stuck around until the lights came back on.’

  ‘Yep, that would not have been pretty.’ The demon said. ‘So what’s next then? I’m guessing we won’t be using the lamp again.’

  ‘No, it isn’t worth the risk.’ Mickie replied, rubbing Ziz on the side of the neck. He knew how much the avian disliked the dark. ‘I’m thinking we stay up here for a while, give the big guy a chance to wander off before we make our next move.’

  He finished, settling in to wait. Beside him Ziz shifted, moving its head onto his lap. The branded man scooped Miz-Mag off his knee before the primordial squished the little demon. He dropped the squeaking fiend atop Ziz’s feathers, ignoring the curses thrown his way. In silence the trio waited, ears pricked for any sound of the titanic monster.

  BIG LINE HERE

  Mickie awoke to the drone of an electrical current. The surface upon which he sat felt warm, almost to the point of being outright hot. It took a moment before he figured out why that was concerning. If he could feel the heat, then it must really be toasty. Mickie opened his eyes to find the world had regained its light.

  Ziz was still asleep, head pining the mortal’s legs in place. Shifting around the big bird, he peered at the city below, noting the brand new flattened area right beneath their light. It was even worse than the original region of destruction, like something had punched at the ground with a hydraulic press. Instead of toppled buildings and overgrown gardens, there was a circle of flattened steel. The monster must have gradually compressed everything as it shuffled about beneath them.

  ‘Hey bud, it’s time to get moving.’

  Mickie gave Ziz’s big head a shake, glancing around for Miz-Mag. The fiend was nowhere to be found, likely having retreated to rest. The primordial currently squishing his legs gave a long grumble, opening one eye partly. Then, all at once Ziz was wide awake, turning about and sending their big light swaying.

  ‘Mickie! Lights!’

  ‘Yep, looks like bed time is over.’

  The branded man nodded down to where human figures shuffled about on identical streets. The primordial agreed excitedly, then proclaimed they had to find Kalistra immediately. Mickie was happy to agree, feeling a twinge of vertigo now the city was well lit. The big light had been a good call to escape the monster, but it sure was high up.

  After some gut clenching maneuvering, he managed to jump aboard his avian companion, and they set off. It was a short flight to the original city ruins, from which Ziz swiftly located its partner. Kalistra was standing out in the overgrown garden, almost exactly where they had left her. She seemed unharmed, waving an arm towards them as she smiled broadly.

  Ziz cawed out a loud greeting, coming down between a pair of broken buildings. The primordial hardly waited for Mickie to dismount before it was bounding to the gorgon. Kalistra laughed as her partner wrapped her in its long neck, all while yammering about what they had seen. Mickie grinned at the display, dusting himself off and heading over at a more sedate pace.

  ‘You held up alright then?’

  He asked. Kalistra's smile drooped slightly.

  ‘I did, the creature did not come my way, and I spent the time hiding in one of the buildings.’ She said, rubbing Ziz under the chin. ‘But Mickie, what happened out there?’

  The branded man sighed, stretching out his arms and legs.

  ‘A lot. Tell me what you saw and I’ll run you through the rest.’

  Mickie filled in the gaps between what Kalistra had seen through Ziz, and what they had experienced. Mostly this consisted of an explanation of his thoughts on how the monster reacted to light. The gorgon agreed for the most part, though she did raise some interesting points.

  ‘So, the main lights keep the monster at bay?’

  She asked, and Mickie nodded.

  ‘Yeah, if it hated our little lamp, then it would despise the usual level of illumination. The big guy didn’t even step out into the open until the lights were off.’

  ‘Okay, So why did the lights go out then?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘If the lights were the only thing protecting the city, then why did they go out? You mentioned the lost all went inside, but even if they did so to sleep, I don’t see why the main lights had to be switched off. It seems to be asking for trouble.’

  Kalistra finished, waving a hand at their surroundings to punctuate her point. Mickie thought for a moment, and swiftly realised he did not know.

  ‘Huh, you’re right, it doesn’t make any sense. Unless…’

  He turned an eye on the ruined city, examining broken and bent buildings.

  ‘Unless the point was to let the monster in.’

  The both of them fell silent for a contemplative moment. Mickie found Kalistra’s question had brought forward another of his own. If light was what kept the monster at bay, then why had it not already squished the city flat? They had evidence it had come up before, it was etched into the fractured city around them. So, why did it not leave the pipes every time the lights went out? Just another question for the pile.

  ‘Now that you have updated me, I suppose I should show you what I have found.’

  Kalistra said, disentangling herself from Ziz and leading them towards the overgrown garden. Mickie stopped short the moment he passed the first twisted shrub. Where there had once been a vague outline of red beneath a thin layer of dirt, runes had been uncovered in large swathes. Kalistra had dug up entire sections of the garden, revealing steel hidden beneath the soil.

  Red scrawl covered the metal, small intricate patterns that curved in on eachothers to form twisting lines. It reminded Mickie of the chains which had bound Ziz, but across a far larger area.

  ‘What is all this?’

  He muttered, getting lost in the twists of runic script.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Kalistra said, a note of manic excitement entering her voice. ‘Is that not incredible?.

  ‘Wait what? I thought this was your thing?’

  Mickie started, taken aback by the gorgon’s sudden fervour.

  ‘That it is!’ She exclaimed. ‘I have spent years studying runes; analyzing their meaning and intentions, but this…’

  Kalistra waved a hand at the uncovered etchings.

  ‘This is beyond anything I have seen before. I can read some of the characters, of course, but I cannot even begin to derive the intent behind it all.’

  ‘Well then.’ Mickie said, squatting down to get a better look at the intricate runic patterns. ‘It’s lucky we aren’t short on time.’

  BIG LINE HERE

  Some time later, in the centre of the cavernous city, Mickie, Miz-Mag, Kalistra and Ziz examined what had once been a sturdy steel platform. It, alongside a good portion of nearby buildings, had fallen prey to the big monster’s ascension.

  A foot high stretch flattened metal was all that remained of the previously tall structure, crawling with a number of lost that looked like a repair crew. Mickie was unsure how they were even going to begin fixing something that totaled, and he dreaded to think how long it would take. One thing he was certain of though, was that no platform meant no pedestal, and no pedestal meant no flower extract.

  ‘Mickie.’ Kalistra muttered, her tone a little hollow. ‘Did you not mention that the creature fed upon the silver liquid?’

  ‘I did.’ Mickie said, voice just as empty.

  ‘Right, and we saw that this platform had the sole means by which the lost deposited said liquid.’

  ‘That we did.’ Miz-Mag said dryly. ‘Which is what I’d say this sorry lot is here for.’

  Beside the wreckage of the platform stood a line of haggard mortals, waiting to deliver the contents of their metal backpacks. Occasionally another lost would make its way over and join the queue, waiting for an opportunity to offload its cargo.

  ‘If it cannot eat, will it come up again?’

  Ziz asked, poking at a bent length of metal.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Mickie muttered. ‘Food isn’t a necessity in Hell, but the big guy did seem pretty keen on it.’

  ‘Yes, if the monster enjoys consuming the liquid, it will likely not be pleased to miss a meal. Who knows how it will react.’

  Kalistra said, her serpentine hair shifting in agitation

  ‘Poorly would be my guess.’ Miz-Mag groaned, before giving the side of Mickie’s head a consoling pat. ‘So much for having time on our side, aye kid?’

  Mickie sighed. Nothing could ever truly just go their way.

  ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do but hope meal time is a ways off. Looking at how much of that juice there was, I’d say we have a bit.’

  He said, though a weight had settled in the branded man’s gut. Something about this city, with its hidden runes and lost occupants put him on edge. Mickie turned away from the ruined platform, running his eyes across the empty space around the hole. The lost equipped for mining were back out in their ranks, lines still full of holes. It brought back a realisation Mickie had some time ago, one which he had yet to voice.

  ‘It sucks that the platform’s gone but this city… I think it was failing anyway.’

  His companions all turned towards him.

  ‘What’s that?’ Miz-Mag asked.

  ‘Well, you see those lost over there’ The branded man said, indicating the groups of idle miners. ‘The ones with holes in their ranks.’

  His companions made collective noises of ascent, and Mickie continued.

  ‘Well those gaps didn’t come from nowhere. I think they indicate where a dead lost would normally stand.’

  ‘Makes sense, I guess, don’t know why it’s relevant though.’ Miz-Mag replied.

  ‘It’s relevant because that wasn’t the only group with missing members. When all the lost gathered, there were plenty more holes in the ranks.’

  He waved towards the section of the city from which they had come.

  ‘The ruins, for instance, had entire groups missing. I bet it's the same way over there after last night.’

  Nearby, the newly flattened block stood out distinctly from the other buildings ringing the city center. Unlike the platform nearby, it only had a few repair people poking at the edges. Likely most of those assigned to do the work had perished under the monster’s assault. Mickie wondered if they had felt anything as they had died, or if it had simply been their bodies getting on the same level as their souls. He shook the thought away.

  ‘Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is there were other groups with missing members, and the worst of these.’ He nodded towards the line of flower gatherers. ‘Was them.’

  Kalistra caught on, humming in thought as she examined the idle lost.

  ‘I see. It makes sense, in a way. The tunnels we passed through near the city were safe, but they might not always be that way. Those who venture out would often fail to return.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Mickie said. ‘Which means over time, less and less flower juice is gathered.

  ‘And eventually.’ Kalistra started, having picked up what he was implying. ‘They all would die. The beast would lose its food, and likely rampage through the city.’

  ‘Or.’ Mickie said. ‘Somebody comes along, and accidentally pisses the big guy off, it then takes out a chunk of the city, and impacts the flower gathering capability.’

  ‘A system built to fail.’ The gorgon mused. ‘I can see the how of it, but not the why.’

  ‘Yeah, why would you bother? Setting all this up just to have some big monster tear it all down.’ Miz-Mag muttered.

  ‘That’s what I want to know.’ Mickie said, and started towards the line of lost with machines strapped to their back. It was time to get some answers.

  The branded man felt a little bad about stealing one of the flower collectors from the helpless humans. The man from whom he took it did nothing to resist however, standing still as a statue while they removed the machine from his back. Once the device was gone, its owner promptly turned, and walked away, heading towards somewhere in the city.

  ‘Where is he going?’ Ziz enquired, neck outstretched to watch the man as he wandered off.

  ‘Maybe they have replacements somewhere?’ Kalistra wondered. ‘We can follow another one later and see.’

  The group carried their prize away from the lost, shifting to a free space near the hole’s edge. Mickie handed the machine to Kalistra, and the gorgon got to work looking it over.

  ‘I can feel power, there’s definitely runes on this somewhere.’

  She said, and pressed something on the device’s side. There was a click and the hatch on top slid open, revealing a small chamber. From what they saw in the flower cave, this was the space in which the blue blossoms were deposited. The gorgon continued to look over the machine, but found no further ways to interact with it.

  ‘I imagine it needs to interface with the pedestal to deposit what it has collected.’ She mused.

  ‘Welp, let’s crack it open then.’ Miz-Mag said. ‘Kid, you’re up.’

  Kalistra passed Mickie the device, and the branded man set it down. He held his right hand out and called forth the dark blade. It materialized in his palm, the cruel curve glinting under the bright city light.

  ‘Just shave the top off?’

  He asked the gorgon. She gave him a nod, eyeing his weapon warily. Mickie began to channel power into the blade. It shuddered in his hand, and seemed to whisper in his mind. Deep inside Mickie, something stirred, joining the weapon in its silent chorus.

  The branded man rolled his neck, and pushed the urgings away. The blade’s edge had begun to glow bloody red, enough power flowing to it for what he required. Mickie squatted down, and ever so gently, ran his weapon along the top of the device. It slid through the steel with little resistance, like a scalpel along skin.

  As soon as Mickie had completed his slice through the bag he dismissed his weapon. Something about the curved blade felt different from his gun, and it left him uneasy. The whole group leaned in with bated breath as he pulled away the section of cut steel. A crimson glow emanated out of the machine's interior.

  Runes were inscribed across complicated machinery, pipes snaking in strange directions about two long tanks, like small brass fire hydrants. Kalistra let out a long breath, every strand of her serpentine hair fixated upon the contents.

  ‘Welp, I think we know where they’re stashing the flower juice.’ Miz-Mag said, nodding at the two cylinders. ‘You able to read this one Kali?’

  The gorgon did not respond immediately. She continued to examine the runes within the machine, muttering softly under her breath.

  ‘I… I can read something in this. It is complicated, but not so much as the runes beneath the garden.’

  Kalistra eventually said, turning the device to examine another angle.

  ‘It’s made to extract from the flower, as we saw, but the methodology is strange.’

  She reached in and ran a finger along a tight, curling line of symbols.

  ‘These here, they dictate the functionality. The device takes the liquid without breaking the flower's core.’

  ‘Is that how they stop the liquid from fading?’

  Mickie asked, recalling their own experiments with the flower’s glowing core. That had seen no effect from the substance, only a rapid diminishing when it was exposed to air.

  ‘I suppose, whatever the mechanism in here, it clearly contains the power. Perhaps it has something to do with the separation of the two colours.’

  Kalistra said, pausing in thought for a moment before indicating another component coated in runes.

  ‘Then this part here, I believe it handles said separation.’

  ‘You believe?’

  Miz-Mag asked, jumping onto the machine’s open side.

  ‘Yes, there are some runes here that I am unfamiliar with, but from what I can feel, that is the intent.’ She replied, and moved on to the tanks. ‘And these, well I believe these are rather self explanatory.’

  ‘Is it safe to remove them?’ Mickie asked, eyeing the red glow emanating from within.

  ‘As far as I can see it should be.’ The gorgon replied. ‘The Transcriptions upon the tanks appeared to be focused upon storage rather than processing or defense.’

  ‘Maybe don’t rip the thing out wholesale though.’ Miz-Mag interjected as its partner stepped forward. ‘Just in case.’

  Mickie called forth the dark blade again and channelled power into it. The edge glowed crimson, and he carefully used it to slice into one of the metal tanks. Like water from a hose, pressurised silver liquid sprayed right at him. Mickie’s eyes had enough time to widen, before he caught a dose of the silver substance right in the face.

  ‘Oh, by the blood, kid, you alright?’

  Miz-Mag had leapt clear of the device, watching as the branded man staggered back with a cry. Mickie tasted something strange on his tongue, a tang of iron laced with ice, like licking frozen metal.

  ‘Yeah, I’m all good.’ He said wiping his face clean with his shirt. ‘Almost got some in my damned eye.’

  ‘Any ill effects?’ Kalistra hurried over, leaning in to examine him closely. ‘No pain or nausea?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Mickie muttered, getting the last of the liquid off his face. ‘Just didn’t expect it to come flying out at me is all.’

  The branded man turned towards the gorgon, only to find the world did not stop spinning when he did. Mickie staggered, his knees suddenly going weak. Kalistra caught him by the shoulders, which was the only thing that stopped him from falling outright.

  It was strange, the mortal knew something was wrong, yet he did not mind all that much. In fact, he felt relaxed, more relaxed than he ever had in his life. It was as if, at that moment, he no longer needed or wanted for anything. Mickie could not stop the smile that broke out across his face as he went limp in Kalistra’s arms.

  ‘In all the nine. Kali, something’s wrong. I can feel it through the bond.’ Miz-Mag’s voice sounded distant, as if from another world entirely. ‘Oh, by the blood, it's his soul. It's doing something to his soul.’

  Mickie opened his mouth to reassure the little fiend, yet no sound came out. Talking would take him away from this perfect, simple moment, and the branded man could not make himself speak. Surely they could see he was fine, that for once, he had achieved a semblance of peace.

  ‘Mickie, can you hear me?’

  Kalistra shook him hard. The mortal hardly felt a thing as he rode on a wave of relaxation. He was rapidly losing touch with the world around him. Not falling asleep, per se, but drifting away upon a sea of his own thoughts. As his companions fretted, Mickie slipped into himself, falling deep. He coasted on the waves of his soul, leaning into their ebb and flow as the relaxation pulled him deeper, wrapping a gentle hand about his mind, and pulling him under.