Given the size of the ejection port and the grip, the gun fell squarely into the territory of handcannons. Krahe wagered this thing could load the sizable thaumshot projectiles of reapers and have some room leftover, which was strange, because those were the largest-diameter bullets she’d encountered besides those used in ridiculous intimidation pieces. There was a maker’s mark on the receiver’s underside, formed by silver inlay that sharply contrasted against the dark, blued metal. It was the outline of a clawed forearm, strikingly similar to the Wandrei Faust’s core symbol, but clearly based on Favonia’s left arm. Working the slide a few times, Krahe had no issue grasping the action’s mechanics, putting aside the slightly out-of-place sheen she glimpsed inside the chamber and barrel. The rifling seemed strange, with a somewhat aggressive “hills and valleys” profile that sat somewhere between standard cut rifling and polygonal rifling — that is to say, the rifling, too, was an organic shape.

  “Striker-fired, tilting barrel. Recoil-operated, I think. Think there might be an omniphage inside, or something else organic. The only thing that doesn’t really make sense to me is the barrel diameter. Too big even for reapers. My horizons must be too narrow to know what makes this diameter the right one.”

  “Yours uses the standard necked-down six-point-three by twenty-five millimeter cartridges, right? Go on, load one of yours into the chamber.”

  Krahe did as asked, and, conforming to her expectations, the chamber constricted around the bullet. It even went so far as to constrict the barrel to the diameter of the bullet, rather than the cartridge.

  “Impressive, very much so considering how underdeveloped Ashametan’s firearms are due to the system. Guess it’s more fitting to say Audunpoint’s firearms, since I haven’t exactly traveled far. I hope it’s not a disappointment that I can’t say that I’m shocked this is possible, after all I’ve seen,” Krahe admitted. “Omniphage?”

  “Omniphage indeed,” Favonia confirmed with a nod. “So widespread, but so few know what it is.”

  Now that Krahe thought of it, she didn’t know what omniphage was. She knew that in some way her biosuit was similar to omniphage, that omniphage was amorphous, and that it could take on a wide variety of properties, but that was about it. “What is it? Living metal? Slime mold? Amoeba? A swarm of machines too tiny to be seen by the naked eye?” she asked.

  “Yes. All of the above. We don’t know, but we have good guesses,” Favonia said. “Do you want the long version?”

  “Feel free,” Krahe agreed.

  Dragging from her cigar, Favonia began speaking, letting the smoke slowly spill out of her mouth as she did, forming many smaller tendrils that almost resembled writhing tongues of fire. “Some are sapient, some barely react at all, some are truly formless, others form a distinct mass around a core. Some live eating ore in the ground, others exist only as cultures in grafting labs, and others still dwell deep within the Wheel, devouring or capturing intruders. There are, indeed, even fully artificial omniphages composed of minuscule automata, such as those employed in Dregsteam Couplers. Every single one can be considered a soulbeast of a sort, only they have no True Soul, thus they cannot die any more than a mundane fungus can — yes, a fungus can become a soulbeast and thus form a True Soul. Of course, automaton-omniphages merely imitate a natural omniphage’s properties, usually by burning thaumine fuel. If you are sufficiently skilled, sufficiently powerful, you could even take a vat of liquid-metal alloy and simply turn it into an omniphage without any of the complex inbetween steps.”

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  While Favonia spoke, she reached into her hair once more, conjuring a box of dark wood whose lid was also inlaid with her maker's mark, setting it down on the table and opening the lid to show that it contained cleaning and loading supplies, and quite a few spare magazines. Despite the magazines' shape — curved so as to fit inside the equally curved grip — something about the etchings upon their metal told Krahe that they would have no issue holding and feeding any ammunition conceivable.

  Favonia took another drag, then gestured with her cigar at the slab of living iron that was the handcannon.

  “The one within that gun is, mentally, very much on the animal side. It can sit dormant for years without issue, but it wants to be used, because then it can feed and develop, which in turn makes the gun stronger. And… In truth, I would feel remiss if it went unused for much longer than it already has. Thus, I will give it to you — so long as you swear to use it, or failing that, pass it onto another you think worthy just as I have passed it unto you.”

  While Favonia spoke, Krahe took the time to appraise the firearm. Besides Favonia’s silver left hand, there were no markings, no serial number. She didn’t learn much of anything from the system appraisal, as it merely repeated what she already knew. What she did learn was the firearm’s true name - Nu-Vasara.

  “There is wordplay to the name, isn’t there?” Krahe asked.

  “Casus mentioned that you also do this,” Favonia smiled. “Vasara means something that is at once indestructible and unstoppable, but it can also just mean an implement for smashing things. Nu as in new, but it also the first syllable of my left arm's original owner. We do not know his actual name, as he was an Unlettered Saint.”

  Krahe worked the slide again, with the bullet dropping out of the ejection port. A few more racks and a few dry trigger pulls later, she had decided that she liked how the gun felt, with the exception of the grip, shaped to Favonia’s hand as it was. The grip suddenly gave way in her grasp, and its shape shifted to one nearly perfectly suited for her hand.

  “It looks like the decision has been made in your place,” Favonia chuckled. She stubbed out her cigar, tucking it into the roiling-red mass of her hair as she stood up, once more reminding Krahe of just how massive she was. “As I said, we best make full use of what time I do have. We can make our way to the nearest shrine with a seclusion-gym, you can put a few dozen rounds through the Nu-Vasara to get a feel for it, and then you can run yourself ragged trying to make me move in order to dodge one of your attacks. I’ll find out in what areas you lack before Casus finishes scraping the gore from the seams of his skin.”

  Besides the instinctive irritation that she felt at being spoken to in this way, Krahe also felt an uncanny familiarity. In some way, she could almost see Sauer speaking like this, if he had been thirty years younger when she had found him. Krahe also took a long pull of her cigar, stubbed it out, stored it away, and stood up.

  “You decided to do this sooner than you had intended because you can tell I really want to shoot you,” she said, already making her way towards the door.

  “That, and because I’ve decided that you are more interesting than I had anticipated,” the giant banisher added, catching up in a single step. She wrapped one arm around Krahe’s shoulders. “I want to see what you can do just as much as you want to try and break my nose.”

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